#we both need some good food to just appear rn

[satoruxx]

i feel the same way about Mexican food Omg…there’s no good Mexican places around and I want some birria tacos just once!! Atp I’m gonna try and make them myself 😭

SUMMER STOP OMG i love mexican food it always hits so good 😭

like i could fr demolish a good quesadilla rn !! i’m telling you the lack of flavorful food is actually getting to me i hate campus food sm 💔

but omg you should!!! if i had the talent and ingredients to make myself indian food i would do it in a heartbeat but unfortunately i’m not gifted like that :(

IF YOU DO MAKE IT LMK HOW IT TURNS OUT BC MY GOD IT SOUNDS SO GOOD !!!

[sarahowritesostucky]

Ignore it if you're uncomfortable💕

Reader catching Steve eating um... "meat" or put suspicion on foods he cook cuz it's a little different from usual meat😔

Idk choose one or maybe both or maybe none

ANYTHING FOR STEVE KAMP I'M EVAPORATING RN

This will be a story told in infrequent, anachronistic snippets, as I love the story idea but don't really want to commit to another WIP. I hope you enjoy!

📖"Amuse Bouche"

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Reader

Tags: cannibalism, held hostage, basement wife, captor/captive, dark Steve

Summary: Amuse-Bouche (/əˌmuːzˈbuːʃ/; French; N.) : to delight the mouth.

You feel your ears buzzing as you sit across the island, frozen in place. The soft sounds of Steve's knife against the cutting board drumming in your ears inordinately loud, warring with the drum of your own thundering pulse. You lick your lips nervously, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything.

"Everything okay, Hon?"

You blink, startled out of your thoughts and surprised to find Steve staring at you from where he's working, his eyes boring into you, rather than the raw meat under his hand, the chef's knife in the other. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, and you're sure he can hear it, can tell exactly what you're thinking.

What are you thinking?

"Y-yeah," you stammer, forcing a smile. Oh god, he can tell. He knows what you're -

"Good." His smile is sweet and honest, unsuspecting, and he goes back to his work on the cutting board. You swallow, your mouth horribly dry. "Just hungry, huh?" Steve smirks down at his bloodied hands. "Really worked up an appetite this afternoon."

You chuckle nervously, shifting in place on the barstool. "Haha, yep. Yeah."

"Mm. Well I know how to fix that," he says. Eyes still on the meat.

You look down nervously to it again, and away again before he can catch you looking and see the thoughts going through your head. You avert your gaze around the kitchen. - the beautiful kitchen.

It'd seemed like such an easy mark. Middle of nowhere, no visible security. Single occupant who went away for hours at a time. It'd been easy to case. You'd thought you'd make out good on this one. Just one more job. A little more money to get you in a good spot. Then you'd go straight.

It hadn't worked out that way.

The links on your cuff make a quiet sound as you shift. You reach for your wine glass and take a big sip. It slides over your tongue in a burst of flavors: fruity and lush, decadent yet light. It's red wine, a Beaujolais, your favorite. Steve always pours it for you before dinner, and you always drink it as you watch him cook.

Lately you've been drinking it faster.

Your eyes are back on the bloody cutting board when Steve's amused voice jars you back to attention,

"Need another pour already?"

Your eyes jerk up to him in fright, and it must show on your face, because he sobers. "Hon? What is it?"

You fake another smile - something you've gotten quite good at, ever since you woke up one day in a carpeted cell. "Nothing," you assure him, batting your eyelashes and drinking the last few sips from your glass. You set it back down on the counter. "I think I would like some more, please."

Steve squints at you briefly, concerned, or maybe suspicious, but your smile seems to do the trick and he sighs good naturedly. "Okay, why not?" He sets the knife down on the cutting board and turns his back to you, going to the sink to rinse his hands. "I'm chilling a white for the main, and I thought we could have that honey wine with dessert."

"Oh." You can't keep your eyes off the cutting board - on the carefully trimmed hunks of meat that don't taste like anything you've ever had before ... and on the knife. "That sounds nice."

Steve chuckles. "My little woman loves her dessert wines."

You could reach it. It's within reach. If you just leant across the counter, you'd be able to -

Steve 's hand appears in your field of vision and you flinch. He's reaching to take your empty glass. He eyes you knowingly as he pours from the bottle of Beaujolais. You expect him to say something, but he just finishes pouring and slides the glass back across the countertop to you. "There you go," he says, staring at you.

You lick your lips and swallow heavily, feeling caught. He knows. "Thank you, Steve," you whisper.

The edge of his mouth twitches up. "You're welcome, Little thief."

Your guts churn at the words he's somehow turned into a term of endearment. Steve's no fool. He knew you'd look. He put the knife within reach to test you, and you've failed the test. Internally you sigh, and you meekly sip your wine. You've got a long time to go before you'll be able to get the better of him.

"What's for dinner?" you ask, resigned, eyes back on the mystery meat.

"Rosemary."

"What?" You look up at him, catching the tail end of something indecipherable in his eyes. "Rosemary?" you ask, heart beating faster.

"Mm." He nods and goes to pull something out of the fridge. He returns with a bundle of green herbs. Your shoulders slump. Oh. rosemary. Right. "I'm cooking it sous vide with herbs," he says, and starts plucking the needles off the stalk. "Rosemary, Thyme, bit of sage."

You nod vacantly, thinking of the Francisco Goya that Steve has hanging in the hallway: Saturn Devouring His Son. You used to appreciate his quirky taste in art, had planned to get rich off it. But now you're starting to suspect there's something else to it.

Still, you know it'll infuriate Steve if you refuse to eat the food he's prepared for you, so you focus on sipping your wine steadily, hoping to maybe get another pour in before the meal.

You don't ask what it is that he's cooking sous vide. But deep down, you think you know.

This has been a fill for: @badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square O4: Kidnapping

Masterlist

[literallygeeway]

intro post!!

name: just call me caleb

age: dont wanna disclose but i am a minor so please dont be weird!!

pronouns: he/they idk

gender: kind of just unlabeled rn it hurts my head too much to think about

sexuality: also unlabeled. i kind of just like anyone in any way it doesnt really matter idk (but i have a beautiful beautiful gf :3)

favourite artist: my chemical romance!!!

other favourite artists: bikini kill, mommy long legs, mitski, bratmobile, cat valley, hell baby, dazey and the scouts, wet leg, skinny girl diet, the muslims, voodoo church, crass, chumbawamba, panic! at the disco (specifically afycso)

other artists i just generally like (yes i love music): sonic youth, le tigre, the julie ruin, pierce the veil, x-ray spex, pleasure venom, olivia jean, necromancy, catholic spit, picture me broken

hobbies: music (i can play bass, guitar, drums and piano), writing, photography, filmmaking, cinematography, drawing, making bracelets (though i need to do it more often)

some other stuff i like also includes: heathers the musical (off broadway) (its the only musical i really like), studio ghibli, the sims 4, omori, undertale, deltarune, stardew valley, ddlc, mouthwashing, doctor who, the umbrella academy, arcane, the owl house, bojack horseman, adventure time and scott pilgrim (the tv show, movie and game - i havent read the graphic novel but want to)

more stuff under the cut - dni, fun facts and some more stuff :3

fun facts!!!

my favourite colour is dark red

my favourite food is sushi

im learning japanese and french

my favourite movies are parasite, everything everywhere all at once and isle of dogs!! my favourite tv shows are i am not okay with this and the end of the f***ing world

i love wes anderson movies!!

i had two fish called flamey and sir bubbles the fishington when i was younger but they both died so i flushed them down the toilet

i collect bottles and cans (mainly ramune bottles and like three cool cans but still), funko pops (i have two gerard way funko pops - the black parade with the facepaint and revenge red tie) and vinyls (mcr, mitski, bikini kill, the muslims and wet leg)

dni!!!

basic dni like homophobic, transphobic, ableist, racist, pro-isreal, islamophobic, etc

mcr haters!! /hj

shipping irl people unless its a joke

transmeds and terfs

people who think trans men cant present femininely and trans women cant present masculinely (im a trans-ish guy who wears skirts sometimes so suck my toe)

people who unironically think gerard way is a trans woman... guys he's said they use he/they pronouns and if he was a trans woman he would probably say something!!

please interact!!

mcr fans

riot grrrl fans (not problematic)

alternative people!!! (emo, punk, goth, scene, decora, etc)

just cool people in general :3

other stuff:

no need to use tonetags with me, dont worry about it

i use !!! and :3 and stuff like that a lot, and i also swear more than the average human should

im alternative but dont have a specific label as i dress in a mix of ways and listen to many different genres of music :3

on here i'm mainly gonna post about mcr, so if you dont like them you probably wont like most of the stuff i post :<

i will probably edit this as i think of more stuff to add and as my interests change but yeah <3

pinterest: literallygeeway

instagram: killj0ysneverd1e (i only use it to look at mikey way and frank iero's stories)

fav user: @darkermylovex (go follow her rn she is awesome!!)

I DID NOT MAKE THE PNG THAT APPEARED EARLIER!!

current song obsessions:

okay thats all, have a great day, bye bye :3!!!!

[achillescomehome]

[picture id descriptors at end of post]

okay these commenters just... get it. not to say my other commenters don't, but i adore when people pick up on the subtle hints i drop when the gods' perspectives pop up that they're in a human-like form, but it's a mask and will always be a mask. okay, so maybe it's not always subtle, but i don't like actually defining exactly what they are. whatever i can come up won't be fitting or as good as whatever each reader's mind comes up with personally. like, sure, i can strip them of their mortal personas (which... is what it is. personas. facades. masks.) but it's up to my readers to fill in those gaps. is it a fully defined, enraged, otherworldly being? is it nothing but a black blob of teeth and eyes and pure hunger? who knows.

and i love, love, love what bakedbean15 pointed out: what poseidon and co. are doing is morally ambiguous. that's exactly what i was hoping to convey: that poseidon and triton and amphitrite can make all the jokes they want, tease percy until he leaves the room and play as many card games as possible, but they will never fully be understandable. nor will their morals align with humans. they are gods and at the end of the day they will act as such, and if that means all but feasting on gabe's pain for their own benefit and pleasure more than for percy's sake, then so be it.

another layer i love people picking up on is that they're not just gods, they're gods of the sea. they're part of the sea itself, and that's a whole new realm of morally ambiguous. who tells the sea what she can and cannot do? no one. the sea does not answer to the sky or to the earth. in fact, both can be seen answering to her.

anyway, i wanted to giggle and kick my feet about some of my fav comments

______

[picture id descriptors]

[Picture ID: Archive of Our Own comment from frostd0nuts on Chapter 7: “"For kindness was not natural to gods; it was a learned habit." and now we have an additional layer of insight into just how precious percy is to poseidon, as well as amphitrite and triton. once you've endeared yourself to the gods, they will love ferociously...and to protect, deal pain in equal ferocity.”]

[Picture ID: Archive of Our Own comment from Livon_Saffron on Chapter 7: “This was beautiful and I am satisfied so much like being so hungry and suddenly your most delicious juicy filling food appears in front of you. I loved the part of Amphitrite raging. And especially as you stripped the gods of their mortal personas, to show their ugly beautiful chilling true divinity. That mortal were learned, but their true essence never went away, it just slept like a chained monster. Also my fav torture part was her ripping his throat out.”]

[Picture ID: Archive of Our Own comment from annievvv7 on Chapter 7: “Oh, you so brilliantly described the ancient Gods nature. They are so powerful forces of nature that are nearly incomprehensible to us mortals. Gods are the souls of those powerful natural forces/concepts that we cannot explain or understand. Their nature is destructive and I think our ancestors who had lived closer to nature they understood these forces better. They knew they need to appease these powerful beings with sacrefices to not be destroyed by them. I had chills down on my back reading your descriptions of the ancient spirits of the Gods. Thank you for the update. I love Amphitrite so much, she loves Percy as her own I hope we will see her being friends with Sally. As she admires her for her persevearence. Hehe one of my secret concept is a polyamorous relationship developing between Poseidon Amphitrite and Sally.”]

[Picture ID: Archive of Our Own comment from bakedbean15 on Chapter 5: “OKAY I LOVE THIS FIC AND I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT IT SO BUCKLE UP BECAUSE IM ABT TO WRITE A FRICKIN ESSAY

first of all, love the epic references, and i am absolutely obsessed with ruthlessness rn, and also the bit abt the birkenstock made me wheeze 🫠

there are two main things i love about this fic. firstly, the personification of the sea. its so poetic and beautiful and it really has such a huge impact whenever it's brought up. i love it so so so much. second, the fact that poseidon is very much so behaving like a god. he's nice to percy, sure, but he has absolutely no mercy for gabe. even just killing him isnt enough for poseidon, and i think i think it brings up some big questions. and not to spoil the fun here, because i know we all love to see gabe getting a taste of his own medicine, but is what poseidon is doing truly right? of course, gabe is a monster, but hypothetically, real person smelly gabe, was in fact also a person, with his own traumas and fears and things that made him the way he is. it's no excuse, but I wouldn't say hes inherently evil. (dont misread me here, the stuff he did was WRONG AND MESSED UP) and the bit about keeping the whole torturing gabe thing from percy just proves that this isnt for percy, poseidon, triton, and soon amphitrite, are doing this for themselves. which is morally ambiguous and very on brand for greek gods.

sorry for writing the longest comment ever, im excited for the next chapter 😭😭”]

[cloudypinkblink]

got two for you

what is their love language? (aka how they like to show affection to eachother)

first date headcanon? (i think we know who of those two is going to be extra in a first date)

You get doodles for the first one rn teehee (sorry im dead w/ new job lmaoo)

Here is little doodle as is my custom teehee; the list is their Love Language they display. I feel they're both very caring towards each other in their own ways, but this kinda just leads to both of them leaning heavily into acts of service as their top one. I feel Masaru is more nurturing in that mother duck fashion- I feel his mom was more influential in how he cares and what sends little alarm bells. He does do his best to try and ease Touma's work load... not that it always works. Masaru, like his mom, also tends to gift food and snack. He makes more things, but it took awhile until he admitted he was the one making Touma's snacks because he was just embarassed. (Did not help when Chika called him a housewife). Despite the rough or frank way Masaru speaks, he is very open and honest and comfortable expressing that he likes Touma, thinks highly of him, or thinks he does something well. You'd think he'd be more awkward but he learned from his mother that a real man is still capable of being honest about his feelings, because that's how his dad was. (Masaru is just shit at expressing when he feels bad in any way) He definitely enjoys sitting with Touma and hanging out with him, but he doesn't "need" it as much. He is also physically affectionate, but he's a bit more shy and reserved with the more cuddling acts. Touma's acts of service stems from his more clinical eye; noticing when he's unwell or injured, and checking on him after Digimon Fights or even when Masaru gets into fights with people. He will always patch his injuries, even as he scolds him. Touma also tries to help masaru with his harder work load, and help him study. It can be kinda hard, as Touma is a little too smart for Masaru to even get it. Touma leans into Physical touch quite a bit- the small stuff like holding hands or leaning against each other. It feels good and nice to have someone so warm and comforting beside him who wants him there. Touma is definitely the touchier of the two, but while Masaru can get a little flustered, still not used to it, he's also okay with the little stuff. Adding onto that, he also greatly appreciates just spending time with Masaru- he's definitely the type to really want to allocate and plan time with Masaru- which doesn't mesh well with Masaru's more laid back and casual attitude, but they're working on it! It helps they work together. Touma loves planning dates, but the compromise is he doesn't go too overboard. (Masaru hasn't forgotten the chaos that was Chika's birthday.) Touma is a little awkward with Words of Affirmation- both receiving and giving- and can sometimes put his own foot in his mouth. This being said, I think both of them are equally shy when it comes to more intimate tihngs. While I know some 14 year olds are perfectly fine with it, I feel like these two are just

Also, for their first date, I feel like they would be that duo who kept having interruptions and hijinks and it was stupid, but they ended up just at a little ramen stand and laughed and walked with each other. It was sweet, casual, and relaxing and took them into the late hours and ended with a sleepover where they didn't even make it to Masaru's room and just feel asleep as a miss in his living room. Also they had argued about it because Masaru made Touma rewrite his plans to tone it down because he said we are NOT doing that calm down!!! I think they are very casual boyfriends; easily the kind where many people don't know they're dating because their deeper affections are more private, and they just appear like two close guy friends to da rest of the world- even though they are fairly open abt it. (Touma does NOT want to tell his family tho and masaru respects that bc he wants to PUNCH his family and Touma also does not want that.) Reminder these are my personal headcanons; I would love more asks about them and to be able to discuss them further!!

[majickth]

(Trying not to spoil anything rn fr)

THE MISSING SCIENTIST IS MUMBO AND HE WAS THE FIRST MISSING PERSON GRIAN HAD FOUND, OR HES THE NEWEST BRANCH OF MISSING PEOPLE AND THE BOOGEYMAN COULD BE SCAR OR CUB (BOOGEYMAN THE VICTIMS WERE CONVINCED OF BEING HUNTED BY) IN SOME WAY BECAUSE SCARS MENTIONED AS TOURIST TRAP (AND, MIGHT I SAY THAT HIM BEING MENTIONED IS IMPORTANT BECAUSE TO HE MENTIONED IN THE BLURB/SUMMARY THING YO NEED TO BE IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT) AND IN GRAVITY FALLS WHICH YOU SAID THIS AU WAS INFLUENCED BY AND JUST MANY REAL WORLD STORES GIFT SHOPS ARE TOURIST TRAPS AND SCARS THE OWNER OF IT AND CUB VISITS THE SCARLAND REGULARLY + JUST BEING HIS CLOSE FRIEND A LOT AND ON HIS CHARACTER SHEET ITS SHOWN HE CHANGED APPEARANCES OFTEN AND THAT SHOWS THAT HE IS AT LEAST SOMEWHAT INVOLVED WITH SOME SORT OF MAGIC

Mumbos the missing scientist because there’s a photo of him crossed out in Take a

Picture, in the most recent art he wasn’t there “because of lore smile”, and there’s a missing scientist and come on be honest with me here. There’s. That’s. Enough evidence. That’s enough proof and if you guys don’t see it that’s not on me. Possibly, Cub and Scar had to ‘make him take a small vacation’, let’s say, because he was investigating the Fungi that follows Cub, because it’s very clear we have no idea what that weird lab was researching. It’s been basically stated word for word “but what were they [the lab] researching?” Multiple times.

We know Grian and Pearl both have character sheets and they’re obviously both important and you know who else have character sheets? YEAH. That's right. CUB AND SCAR.

On Scars character sheet there are images of a burning car (mysterious backstory?) and missing papers (multiple missing PEOPLES papers…like Grian’s CASE with multiple MISSING PEOPLE which the police ABANDONED) and a train in the woods, and in text it’s written “occasionally invites tourists on private tour, there is no private tour, good friends with cub” “has endless pit in backyard (haha boatem hole), wanted in 38 states, 5 countries, +1 micronation” (the reason those are in different quotation marks is because I have no idea whether that’s something or just reference and sillies)l and in Take a Picture, there’s a photo of someone with kind of Scars haircut with an X over it (do I know what this means? Not a clue, and am I grasping at straws here? Some might say so but hey here we are anyway and I WILL figure it out)

On Cubs character sheet there are images of strange crystal, mask, food on a plate that me personally sees as vaguely resembling an actual heart because of veins and some red liquid thing that’s hopefully sauce, fungi on a tree (that would be strange if he was boogeyman because that wasn’t mentioned but also we’re barely skimming the top of Grian’s past from the what I see right now, so that could just be not there rn.), and TATTERED WINGS. Also! In Take a Picture, there’s someone something in the woods with glasses, and tell me a wild guess of who has monster evil undertones, glasses, and a photo of something that “marks they’ve been there” on a tree? Well my friends, that would be, the one and only, no other, than CUB.

On top of this, in Scar (doodles), it says, and I quote, “…when he tells you there’s something in the woods, you can’t help but believe him.” Now let’s look back on what we’ve learned. Scar invites tourists on private tours that don’t exist, Cub is a monster (in the [little] woods) who may or may not eat people, Scar and Cub are good friends, Scar is a criminal that is involved (if not the cause of) multiple missing people things, nobody really knows anything about them, and they’re no doubt very important to the story.

And fellas, fellows, and fells, I rest my case and bid you all, adieu!

:] i like the way you think

[derangedthots]

I'm really curious about your writing process and everything ctf, got a million questions but most of them you probably can't answer because spoilers 😅.

If that's OK, I wanted to ask some more general, behind-the-scenes things? (if not just ignore them)

Like, who out of the truly secondary (as in, they don't appear that much/aren't that central to the plot) characters you like/enjoy writing the most/least and why?, what scenes came easily vs which ones were a pain to get just right? , is there anything/anyone that's been flying under readers' radars but will be "a surprise tool for later"? , when it comes to reader reaction, is there anything in particular you didn't expect or that you thought may happen but didn't?

And finally, when writing about the Tullys (Kermit, Elmo, Oscar, Grover...), have you ever been overcome by the mental image and ensuing hilarity of everyone else as human and them as Muppets? (I had the realization midscene and got the giggles BAD 🤔😲😳🤭😂)

hi darling🥰💕

i'm always getting such fantastic questions from you guys and don't worry, i can actually answer all of these ones haha

out of the truly secondary characters, it's hard to choose a fav when it comes to writing them. it's good that you narrowed down which ones you meant by secondary bc i love almost all of my ocs but it just so happens a lot of them also reoccur and play important parts LOL. if i had to choose someone tho...maybe matilda? she just gives such matronly but no-nonsense vibes and i have nothing but respect for that personality type. not to mention, i feel like with any building/home/estate, the kitchens are always one of the places where everybody knows something. it's where the food gets made which already gives very "this is the heart of the place" vibes but also lots of ppl pass through there, which means there is always tea (both literally and metaphorically). matilda's fun to write bc she's aptly positioned to receive a lot of information, while also being highly responsible and respected for her job (srsly never EVER mess with the cooking staff anywhere), and idk i just like that abt her lol. i realize i haven't written much of her yet but hopefully that'll change soon. also who knows, my answer for fav secondary character to write might very well change as we go along (i did say this was a difficult choice haha)😅🤷🏻‍♀️

as for least favorite? bors. it's bors. no real spoilers but yeah, you'll find out why

what scenes came easily? is it bad if i say none😭 i think almost every scene i've written has been jam-packed with detail/characterization which means very little relaxation while writing for me lol. oh actually, on second thought, i think any scene with vermax? just bc he never actually says anything and his interactions with jace are all pretty straightforward. LMAO that's not a v interesting answer but it's the best one i have for you rn😂😂

as for what scenes were the hardest/took the most pains to get just right, i'd have to say the really emotional ones just bc whew - jace's emotions are really quite heavy and i want to convey how he processes (or doesn't process) them as authentically as possible. his scene with daemon in the dragonpit took me forever and i was constantly switching back and forth btwn writing that scene and other ones bc i needed the brain break

weirdly enough, i'd say any scenes between jacemond themselves are both easier and more difficult? they're in a weird liminal space. on one hand, they flow quickly bc i love writing them, they ARE our romantic leads after all lol, the origin and main impetus for why i'm writing the story (besides fixing what hotd broke), but also their scenes together are always charged so i have to do a lot of thinking while i'm working on them

my only advice for now regarding something that's been flying under the readers' radars but will become a special little mousekatool (god how american of me) for later in the story is:

just like jace, you should keep your eyes open and pay attention to the shadows👥

if we're going off what i've read in the comments/seen in my asks, i will admit i was surprised no one mentioned jace's relationship to rhaenys in terms of how he learned to braid from her. then again, i'm just very soft abt the idea of baby jace getting his little fingies caught in her hair and then jace practicing on his siblings+parents after they moved to dragonstone. but honestly i'm just endlessly thankful for all the responses and continued interest regardless🥹💕💕

the tullys tho. omg the tullys. i'm so glad you brought this up bc i absolutely had to hold back my laughter while writing their scenes i'm sorry but george is a comedian for naming them after muppets😭😭 i know he ran out of ideas for names but sir? the muppets? really? i'm over here trying to picture two charming young men with red hair for kermit and oscar and instead have to physically fight back images of a stuffed green frog puppet and a green whatever-oscar-is in a trashcan💀 little benjicott blackwood sparring with two muppets i'm wheezing babes😂😭

[jaanusbooktalk]

Café con Lychee by Emery Lee - Book Review

6/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️

TW: homophobia, racism, cultural appropriation, fear of being outed, toxic friendships, bullying

(TWs are ranked in order of severity, please take them seriously!)

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while! I just started senior year and everything’s been moving kinda fast, but I have gotten the chance to read a lot!

Most recently, I’ve read:

On a Sunbeam (graphic novel by Tillie Walden)

Rainbow in the Dark by Sean McGinty

Fifteen Hundred Miles from the Sun by Jonny Garza Villa

Love from A to Z by S.K. Ali

Lobizona by Romina Garber

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

My So-Called Bollywood Life by Nisha Sharma

I’m currently reading Crying in H-Mart by Michelle Zauner 🍜

^me and my college applications rn😭

Summary:

“Sometimes bitter rivalries can brew something sweet.

Theo Mori wants to escape. Leaving Vermont for college means getting away from working at his parents’ Asian American café and dealing with their archrivals’ hopeless son Gabi who’s lost the soccer team more games than Theo can count.

Gabi Moreno is miserably stuck in the closet. Forced to play soccer to hide his love for dance and iced out by Theo, the only openly gay guy at school, Gabi’s only reprieve is his parents’ Puerto Rican bakery and his plans to take over after graduation.

But the town’s new fusion café changes everything. Between the Mori’s struggling shop and the Moreno’s plan to sell their bakery in the face of the competition, both boys find their dreams in jeopardy. Then Theo has an idea—sell photo-worthy food covertly at school to offset their losses. When he sprains his wrist and Gabi gets roped in to help, they realize they need to work together to save their parents’ shops but will the new feelings rising between them be enough to send their future plans up in smoke?”

Representation:

This will be an own voices review since I’m coming from an Asian American & queer perspective, but we are not a monolith and not everyone will agree with my interpretation.

To be honest, I had really high expectations for this book. It had been in my TBR ever since I heard it was coming out, and I was super excited to read about two queer PoC falling in love (not to mention the enemies to lovers and food!!) but it ended up falling short in a lot of ways.

For representation, Theo Mori is Japanese and Chinese (if I remember correctly) and Gabi Moreno is Puerto Rican. While Theo is gay and out, Gabi is very much in the closet and struggles with his father’s machismo expectations.

I will say that while this is the author’s own experience growing up in these cultures, the book’s impact depended on the readers. For white readers, the book would appear to reinforce negative stereotypes like Asian parents pushing for perfect grades, and Latinx parents being machismo and sexist.

It’s one of those things that for Asian kids, we know that sometimes our parents can be strict, but it’s not something that applies to all Asian parents. I would have liked to see some of those stereotypes challenged in this book instead of reinforced.

That being said, the book did a really good job of showing the struggles of being in the closet, especially with a homophobic family.

What I Liked:

I liked the plot and how it flowed - nothing seemed choppy or didn’t make sense. There was always a reason the characters were doing what they did, and even if you didn’t agree with it you understood their motivations.

I needed a good beach read when I picked this up, and it did not disappoint. I also love love love when romance books have switching perspectives - it adds a lot of dimension to the characters.

Why I couldn’t give it a 10:

Sadly, this book ended up falling into a lot of unfortunate stereotypes that I felt readers from other backgrounds wouldn’t recognize as such. I discussed this a bit already, but it was to the extent that I had to put the book down at times. I also didn’t really like how the “enemies to lovers” aspect was basic - they genuinely had little reason to hate each other and it was mostly one sided. This is later acknowledged so that they can have a romance, but it fell flat for me. I prefer when characters have complex motivations, especially for a plot line that propels so much of the book.

Ultimately, I’m grateful for the representation this book brings to the table and I hope it can make people feel seen, I just didn’t enjoy the writing as much as I wanted to. For a debut novel, it’s not bad!

I can’t think of any recommendations like this book at the moment (because this is a months-old draft) but I’ll keep an eye out!

Thanks for reading!

[url-is-url]

Okay I've had a busy couple of weeks so I haven't been able to answer this but I'm in line to vote rn and I've got time lol

OKAY SO. One of the things that I think about a lot is why does the Ghost Zone have things like royalty and pirates when, you know, everybody there is a ghost and doesn't necessarily need food or other resources that can have scarcity imposed on them to enforce social hierarchies and inspire thievery because they're all dead.

My answer to this question is that All Ghosts Are Crazy. Like, at least a little bit. Well-adjusted people don't become ghosts when they die. And being dead for a while, and lacking the survival needs of mortals, skews your perspective ever further and, to humans, All Ghosts Are Crazy. Ghosts aren't necessarily evil like the Doctors Fenton might tell you, but any ghost that's been dead longer than they were alive is running Blue_And_Orange_Morality.exe, yknow?

So why do some ghosts decide to be pirates? For fun, for power (whatever power means to them), or for both. My boy Youngblood is on some like, Luffy But G-Rated shit. He's here to make friends, have a good time, dress in silly costumes, and sometimes torment adults. Youngblood has beef with adults and none of us want to know what it is. If we accept the common fanon that your appearance as a ghost is partly based on how you died and partly based on your self-image, Invisible To Adults is... concerning.

Ember McLain (my beloved) on the other hand, is more of a chaotic neutral D&D character. She wants fame, she wants influence, she wants people to know her goddamn name, and piracy is an effective way to do that. I am firmly of the opinion that if Ember "I'mma just hypnotize the entire adult population of this town real quick" McLain had goals more sinister than Get Famous, she would be the scariest villain in Danny Phantom. (Imagine an alternate version of TUE where Ember is one of Dan's lieutenants and tell me that's not scary.)(Yes I was an orchestra kid why do you ask.)

So you have these two ecosystems of pirates who are basically just playing around and who are doing actual for real criminal shit. What are the hard-core pirates actually doing?

I propose to you that everything dies. Indeed, in strange eons, even death may die. Therefore, there are all sorts of weird alien creatures existing in the Ghost Zone and again, the longer they're dead, the weirder they get. There is a market for EVERYTHING in the Ghost Zone. Mysteriously disappeared nuclear submarines and other orphan sources of fissile material? Yeah all of that got stolen by pirates and sold to like, a restaurant that serves it as a fine delicacy to ghosts from three galaxies over. Stealing a sample of fissile material from every country with a nuclear program is the ghost pirate equivalent of climbing the tallest mountain on every continent. (Yes, radiation is one of my special interests why do you ask.)

Also, travelling through the Ghost Zone goes a lot faster than travelling through space because time is squishy in the GZ, so most interplanetary commerce goes through the Ghost Zone. Earth isn't in on that party on a large scale yet, but things slip through. Let's say you're a ghost pirate, and you've got rivals, and you want some magic doodad that will help you fight your rivals. You might hit up a magical weirdo like Freakshow and set up a trade, you know?

But how do goods move between dimensions? Travelling through the GZ is fast but making portals is hard!

It's hard, but it's not impossible. A non-zero number of ghosts become pirates or other flavors of D&D character types because they want to gain enough power to learn a way to open their own portals. Orpheus managed it twice, and he wasn't even dead yet! (Magic is easier for ghosts because ectoplasm is basically a universal conductor/solvent/transformer/catalyst for all matter and energy.)

What makes opening portals easier? Ionizing radiation, among other things, is bad for the veil, so Chernobyl and nuclear testing sites are convenient places to cross over. And the ocean is a place where you expect to see a boat, so the South Pacific in particular is basically pirate central.

A lot of piracy in the human world involves bullying the navy. Which navy? Whichever navy the local ghosts don't like. Ghosts hold grudges and they aren't immune to mortal politics; if you want to get in good with local ghosts, you can win many brownie points by Tormenting The Colonizers. SAILORS ARE RIGHT TO BE SUPERSTITIOUS.

Okay it's my turn to vote bye.

What if I... wrote an Ember-and-Youngblood-centric fic that just explores Ghost Zone piracy to a deeply self-indulgent level of detail?

[mcyt-agere]

Helo :) can u do a cg! Karl x little! Reader.. Like reader is streaming and they get hate comments and they almost regress while streaming and karl helped them end stream...sorry if it don't make sense kinda feeling small rn :)

am too :) is cute

~~~~~~~~~~

End Stream

cg!cc!Karl x gn!little!reader

Warning(s): mentions of hate comments and involuntary regression

~~~~~~~~~~

You quietly hum to the music playing in your headphones, tapping your fingers on your desk to the beat as you wait for your game to load.

“Where’s Karl?”, you read out of your chat with a little smile.

You glace down to your phone, checking the time.

“He’s doing some work right now.”, you reply, waiting for the bar to continue filling.

It’s taking a bit longer than you had anticipated for it to load, but it gives you more time to talk to your chat.

“Chat, look at the new sweater I got!”, you suddenly remember, looking at the package settled by your feet.

You hold up the pastel sweater, displaying it for your viewers to see.

It came a little bigger than you had intended, but nothing’s wrong with a big sweater.

It’s also super soft, so maybe slipping it on isn’t such a good idea.

However, you slide the new sweater on anyway, grinning at how it fits.

The fuzzy material and oversized attire within the first few seconds are already making your brain a little fuzzy, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

You’ve repressed this tiny fuzz before, so you’re not overly worried about it.

You hear Karl’s office door open, and you realize because of the time that he has finally decided that he should probably eat something.

“Guys, I-“, your comment you were going to make fades away as you notice the influx of negative comments.

Most of them are concerning your appearance, spurned on by the new sweater.

The slight fuzz in your head grows tenfold as you try to ignore the hate, but you know you won’t be able to hold it down much longer.

As Karl roams through the kitchen trying to find something to eat, he hears something strange on your stream that he has pulled up on his phone.

You’ve let out a shaky sigh, masked as annoyance at your game that won’t load.

Karl knows you a lot better than all of your viewers, and he knows the real reason for that little sigh.

He watches you for a few more moments, noticing the distant look in your eyes.

His mind races as he tries to think of a good excuse to have you end your stream, but he knows you won’t put up much of a fight no matter what he comes up with.

Besides, the excuse is more for your chat than you.

You know you need to end your stream, but your devotion to your audience will outweigh the thought of ending.

Karl abandons his task of finding food, making his way to your office.

The door to the room is open, but he knocks on it anyway to get your attention.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he lifts his finger to his mouth to silence you.

“Chat, I’m stealing (y/n.) They’re all mine, no argument. Bye guys.”, Karl rambles a bit as he clicks a few buttons to end your stream.

The second your screen goes black, Karl watches as you visibly relax.

“Tanks.”, you murmur, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater.

“You look so cute. Did you just get this?”, Karl tries to distract you from the guilt he knows you’re feeling from having to end your stream.

“Mhmm! Dis mornin’.”, you grin as Karl inspects the sweater.

“It’s so soft!”, he coos, feeling the fabric between two fingers.

You start fidgeting in your seat, tired of Karl just looking at you.

“Color?”, you give him your best pleading look.

Karl thinks about it for a second before shaking his head.

“We both need to eat something first. I know you haven’t had anything since lunch.”, he murmurs, taking your hands in his.

You have a momentary debate whether to argue with him or give in, but you know Karl won’t appreciate you arguing.

Besides, he did just do you a pretty big favor ending your stream for you.

You nod, letting him pick you up and take you to the kitchen.

“Nuggies?”, Karl offers, taking a package of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.

You nod with a lopsided smile.

Karl sets you on the counter while he prepares the nuggets, watching carefully to make sure you don’t teeter off of the edge.

“Cuddles while they cook?”, he offers, holding his arms out for you.

“Mhmm!!”, you nod, allowing him to lead you to the couch.

“I love you, baby.”, Karl presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as you rest against him.

“Luv you too.”, you reply, giggling as Karl’s cheeks tint red.

Karl runs his hand up and down your back as he grabs the remote to turn on your favorite show.

You’re glad he helped you end your stream; this is so much better than streaming.

[zukuist]

beach [hcs]

“you go on a beach vacation with them”

includes: todoroki shouto, shinsou hitoshi, bakugou katsuki

your name is shortened to y/n, f!reader, no corona au, engaged au with shouto, bilingual reader??

notes: i thought of this because i watched twice’s momo and sana hawaii vlog, and they literally looked like they were having the best time of their life?? so i decided to make this <3

-

todoroki shouto

so this is how it all began

todoroki comes home to you sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone

and he moves behind you to rest his head over yours, and he sees you looking at hawaii pictures

todoroki’s like “do you wanna go there?” since you were just staring at that one particular photo

and you’re like “maybe?? i would visit hawaii if i got the chance.”

todoroki’s like.. “i have money, and time so.. do you wanna go to hawaii?”

but you’re like “but.. aren’t you a pro hero? what if something happens?”

“i can take a few days off, and besides— we’re engaged so staying in hawaii for a bit doesn’t sound bad.”

and that’s how it all began

the both of you guys are so hyped for this vacation, well.. most especially you since you wanted to go there

you wanted to split the expenses with him, but he already paid for the nicest hotel </3

todoroki can only watch in amusement and adoration, as you sit there all cute beside him on the plane going there

japan and hawaii are really far from each other so.. the both of you guys take a lot of naps— heating you up with his left side as y’all do so.

people stare at y’all a lot, but most especially shouto because.. hello? who wouldn’t (he doesn’t stare back at them though, his eyes are glued on you.)

shouto has basic english knowledge, so it’s not as good as yours— so he has to rely on you for a bit.

but the actual trip was super enjoyable

he purchased you some cute clothes for you to wear, and he absolutely loves seeing you in summer dresses

the dress compliments your skintone so well, insert todoroki simping

will also probably buy you a cute lil hair clip

lots of pictures taken there. have mercy on his storage bc it’s all jusy burst photos of you

his cheeks go a little red when he sees you in your swim attire— but gosh! look at him in his swim wear, that fine mofo

he’ll help you apply sunscreen on your back if you need help, and he’ll just watch you play in the water from afar

but don’t get me wrong, you’ll eventually drag him into the ocean

he’ll help you dry off after swimming (if you have curly hair, he’ll just watch you dry your hair, as he dries your body off.)

then, y’all will take a walk around the place— enjoying the scenery while talking about whatever

then he’ll bring you to the restaurant for some dinner, and he’ll get you anything— dessert, drinks, etc (uGH pls marry me)

at the end of the day, y’all head back to the hotel extremely satisfied—

and the both of you guys fall asleep in each others arms, his right side cooling you off

shinsou hitoshi

shinsou’s not a big vacation person, so y’all don’t go on vacations a lot

but he feels like he should do something for you, since the crime rate has gone done drastically

and he wants to celebrate with you, but he just doesn’t know what to do yet.

until he sees you looking at bahamas pictures on pinterest, and suddenly— he knows what he wants to do

“do you want to go to the bahamas?” he’ll bring it up when y’all are eating lunch

“hm, i want to! but there’s just no correct time.”

“ah but, the crime rate has gone down by a lot— so i want to celebrate by bringing you there.”

your eyes brighten up, and it seems to be that bringing the bahamas up has made you happy

y’all both plan it out maybe 5 days before, and the both of you split the expenses

i headcanon that once you guys are old enough, you get a cat

so you had to drop off the cat at a friend’s house, because you’d be at hawaii for nearly a week

encourages you to sleep on the plane ride, but this man won’t sleep on the plane at all (you won’t catch him lacking)

he’s a little overwhelmed when he gets there at first, because.. it’s so bright tf

but it’s actually a really relaxing place.

compliments you when he sees you wearing your swim attire. he looks very casual but on the inside, he’s freaking out

he’ll watch you play around in the water from the shade,

and if he thinks you’re going a little too far, he’ll probably jump right in and bring you back lol

another person that’ll take a lot of pictures, but they’ll be so memey </3 so he’ll have something to tease you about in the hotel room

but don’t get me wrong, he takes good pictures of you

he’ll let you lay your head on his lap while he dries your hair (that is, if you don’t have curly hair)

but if you do, he’ll just let you rest on his lap— as he checks your body for any sun burns

ugh you look so fine in your sundress though, he’s tracing your sides as he tells you how “pretty you look in that dress, kitten”

y’all will probably get room service, since hitoshi prefers it in there— since he can talk about how good you look so openly

then, you’ll take a walk around the shoreline, enjoying how the beach looked at night time— brieflu before returning back

will ask if you enjoyed the entire experience, hand in yours as he luls you to sleep

bakugou katsuki

okay.. but you have to convince him for a long time, and you have to be consistent

at first, he’ll scoff at you and say “no, do you know how expensive that is?”

but you’re rich? tf bakugou

okay but he actually wants to go with you, he just wants to plan this trip at least 2 months prior.

and he’s a big tsundere

but he does all the planning, because everything has to be correct for y/n!

but he’ll still go to you for confirmation.

okay but.. he’ll make y’all leave at 6pm for your flight at 10pm, and then he’ll nag you to go to sleep on the plane

like smh— why are we so early??

anyways, once y’all arrive there— he’ll watch you run around the beach, basking in the beautiful scenery

he’ll just smirk in amusement as you do so

you’ll buy those flower clips, and he’ll just laugh and say they “don’t look that bad”

but he’s actually simping hard for you, so don’t be misguided.

when he sees you in your swimwear, his cheeks will be red,

then he’ll say stuff like “can we just stay in? you look so good rn it’s unreal, y/n”

a lot of people stare at him for multiple reasons.

one— he’s hot

two— he’s such a beefy pro hero

but he’s actually trying his best to be on the down low, because this is a trip for you and him.

he doesn’t care about anyone else rn.

he’ll take a few pictures of you and him, and he’s surprisingly a good photograper

(i feel like all of them are, but in their own way.)

will laugh at you playing in the water, and he’ll probably take one video of you being absolutely wrecked by a wave

but if he sees you getting dragged in too much, he’ll come and save you lol

“idiot,” he scolds as he dries your body off, flicking your forehead as he goes on a tangent about how you almost drowned

man’s the son of 2 fashion designers so you bet he was the one that bought you new clothes for you to wear

he’s still pleased by the appearance of you in a pretty dress.

y’all will probably buy ingredients in hawaii, so he could cook y’all something (you could do that there)

then, he’ll probably feed you the food— as he asks you how you feel about everything, and if the experience was perfect

after dinner, he’ll probably offer to massage your feet just because he can (he doesn’t do this a lot so !!)

bakugou really enjoyed going to hawaii, surprisingly. he’s just very tsundere about it

he’ll probably arrange more vacations with you from now on

—

©️izukulie 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not steal ❕

[junko-and-riri-domain]

push and pulls | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | headcannon (paragraph form) ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀs: “cat and dog relationship with classmate!enhypen ? hehe headcannon or any format that you're comfy with :3  they could be highschool sweethearts in the end too 😭” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:

i tried i'm sorry if this sucks 🤧

jake and jay’s are are like semi-suggestive (i think?) imma just say that they are semi-suggestive to be safe

i aint gonna lie i’m a sucker for Jay cooking 😪

jake & hoon’s are kinda short bc it’s like 1 am rn 

Heeseung

Heeseung has always been good at everything no matter what it is. It isn’t to discredit any of his effort whatsoever, but as the school year continues everyone knows that things are just natural for Heeseung. Ever since your freshman year of high school, you’ve seen him as your main competition for 1st place in school. The problem? This man isn’t even aware of it. To you, he just breathes and wins the competitions, gets all the attention, and is at the top of everything. To him, it’s the only way you’ll even notice him. The competitions? It gives him a chance to stay after school to be with you. The attention? He’s only focused on yours. Him at the top of everything? Well, that one’s just because he’s Lee Heeseung. It’s after school one day and the both of you have stayed to help clean up the classes for extra credit. Like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances, his eyes drift to you whenever you don’t notice. Except for this one time.

“Stop looking at me!” you say, your eyes glaring at him. He’s taken aback as he never meant to offend you.

“Sorry,” he said, thinking that you’d just leave it at that. But instead,

“I know you’re fricking judging me Lee Heeseung.”

“What?”

“I can feel it in your eyes. I’ll always be second to you and I get it, you don’t need to rub it in, so just stop!” You throw the rag at the window, walking out of the classroom and he’s left alone wondering what the hell just happened. And suddenly the gap between first place and second begins to grow. To him, staying after school to study for competitions are no longer fun when you won’t even tell him to be quiet when he starts to sing. Your attention is gone just like his sanity. Being at the top never felt so lonely when you weren’t next to him. To you, staying after school becomes something you dread because of the silence in the room that you caused. Your attention seems as if it’s on everything but him but every day you have a hundred thoughts and all of them are infected with him. The two of you enter yet another school competition, making it to the top 3. Yet, unlike previous times, neither of you is in first place.

“In first place, we have Sim Jaeyun!” the announcer says. You and Heeseung look at each other in shock that the other wasn’t on the podium. Yet, you couldn’t care less. Because not getting first place causes you to go off on a rant that Heeseung joins in on. Staying after school turns into study partners at the nearby cafe which becomes study dates. Both of your attention is openly on the other. And while you’re both at the top academically, you become the couple goals everyone wishes they could achieve.

“ace of my heart 💞” you caption an Instagram post of a picture of Heeseung.

rest of the boys under the cut!

Jay

Culinary class is peaceful for Jay. He has control of everything, knows where the ingredients and cooking tools are, can do something he loves, and did we mention control of everything? As a chef, he learned what you were like the first few weeks of class. You were messy with apple peels next to the lime squeezer, engaging in a way of cooking that you defined as “organized chaos.” You didn’t use measurements, cooked things by eye, and used whatever seasonings felt right. It wasn’t that you were bad at cooking, he actually enjoyed your dishes. But your process was just something he couldn’t stand. And maybe he doesn’t really like you since you accidentally used the last of his honey when making cupcakes but that’s a story for another day. The culinary teacher decided to try something new to promote teamwork and for a week, the class would be in partners and cooking a dish new to both people. And who did Jay just have to end up with? You. As the two of you read the recipe for your first dish which was a dessert of sorts,

“What do you wanna use first, jackfruit or durian?” he asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips,

“Durian, because it looks like you,” you said before making your way to the table where all the ingredients were.

“Inner peace,” he muttered to himself as he watched you walk off. The next day, you were making peach tarts.

“Yah, Jay, look here,” you said as you held up your phone and the peach. In the photo you took, the peach was next to Jay’s face, sort of comparing the two.

“Why’d you take a picture of me?” he asked. He didn’t really mind photos, knowing full well how good he looked but you taking one of him came completely out of the blue. As you glanced up from your phone after hitting post, you were unable to stop your laugh,

“Your hair looks like a peach,” you said with a wink as you went back to cutting the ingredients.

“Do I just, do I just look like food now?” he muttered to himself with a huff.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind eating you,” you teased. You were smooth, he’d give you that. But, damn, he wanted to make you feel the way you were making him feel right now.

It didn’t take long for you to learn that Jay’s way of teasing made you flustered as hell. If you’d ask him to hand you something, he’d hold it above your head forcing you to have to jump up. It just so happened that he did this once right in front of someone else’s station and as you jumped, you almost knocked into them which led to his arm around you,

“Watch where you’re going,” he warned with a teasing edge as he handed you the carrots.

When you handed him something, he’d take it in a way that his hand held yours for a second but that second was enough. As the two of you cooked together, you entered your own world with no one else but the other in it. He was patient with your organized chaos, his own habits finding a place alongside your cooking routine. For the last day of working as partners, you two were to bake cookies. You put in a pinch of salt then some sugar when suddenly,

“YAH!” you hear from next to you. Met with Jay’s wide eyes as he looked in the bowl where you put the salt and sugar,

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I told you to taste the salt and sugar before you used it.”

“The first one tasted like salt so I put more of the second one.” He took a pinch of the sugar already in the mixing bowl then tasted it, a disgusted look appearing on his face”

“You put salt then more salt, good job y/n.”

“Huh?” He took another pinch then brought it up to your lips and as you tasted it,

“Why the hell is there two kinds of salt here!”

“One’s fine, the other’s coarse. I wanted to eat these y’know.”

“Fine, head over to my place after school and we can make cookies together.”

“That’s not funny. You can’t mess with cookies,” he muttered.

“Who said I was joking? We can even drizzle honey over it.”

Jake

Perfection doesn’t even begin to describe Sim Jaeyun. A gentleman, kind, smart, has an accent that you can’t help but sometimes tease him about, and obsessed with Layla were all things you couldn’t fault him for. But sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a little too nice. You couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of the girl chatting with Jake by the benches and her feeling his arm up.

“Geez, tell her to go away!” you wanted to say to him as you started walking towards them.

“Hey,” Jake said with a smile as his eyes landed on you. The same smile he smiled at her with.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked, trying not to sound pissed but couldn’t help yourself.

“Yeah hold up.” Jake looked at the girl, “Just text if you need help with anything else on the homework,” he said before walking off with you.

“Who was that?” you asked as the two of you made your way to the cafeteria.

“New girl, needs help with physics so she asked me for help.” Jake was supposed to help you with physics.

“You gonna help her on Tuesdays?” you asked, referring to the day Jake always helped you. If he did notice your jealousy, he didn’t say anything about it. Oh, but he did notice. And he kind of wanted to edge it on to see how far things would go.

“Should I? She can hangout with me and Layla.”

“See if she likes me better than Layla.”

“Might take you up on the offer, watch your words, y/n,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah? You introduce her to Layla and I’ll divorce you then take full custody.”

“I didn’t know we were married, don’t we gotta go out on a date first?”

“I don’t know, do we?”

“Let’s do it right now then.”

“Fine! Wait what-?”

Sunghoon

On the ice, you and Sunghoon went together like sugar and tea. Off the ice, you two were like the coarse salt that ruined the cookies in Jay’s fic. You and Sunghoon skated well together, putting on a performance that typically got you first place, but that’s exactly what it was. A performance. An act. Nothing more, nothing less. Neither of you talked when you saw each other after practice the next day at school. Neither of you actively told anyone that you knew each other more than most couples did. But there was just something about talking to Sunghoon outside of ice skating, acknowledging that there you had an ice skating persona as well as the persona you showed to everyone else, that frightened you. So both of you made an unspoken agreement that you’d keep your ice skater lives in the rink and outside of it. Except for right now where the transfer student who coincidentally just so happened to be an ice skater and was wondering if you’d be his partner for the upcoming showcase.

“Y/n already has a partner,” Sunghoon said, cutting in as he stood next to you. The transfer student’s eyes settled on Sunghoon,

“You’re Park Sunghoon, the guy who-”

“Almost made it into the Olympics? Yeah. And y/n and I are gonna do it together this year.” You weren’t quite sure how to feel about Sunghoon suddenly “claiming” you (not in a toxic way whatsoever, we don’t condone that here). But you did know that this meant Sunghoon knew of your existence outside of the rink.

“Says who?” you said, trying to see how this would go. He looked at you, fear flashing in his eyes at the thought of the two of you not doing this together.

“I thought, I thought we were? Are we not? We have our outfits planned and everything.”

“I mean… plans change, Hoon.” That nickname, the one only you were allowed to use for him.

“Do you not wanna do it together?”

“I’m just gonna… go,” the transfer student said.

“I do wanna do it together.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“We kinda don’t have a relationship outside of the rink, Hoon.”

“We can make one, then. Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Sunoo

You’ve always held a level of jealousy towards Sunoo. Sunoo has always been the guy who’s everyone’s friend even if he’s popular, the type of guy who waves at everyone, greets them with a smile on their face, and gets people to attend class/school events. Whereas you’re more on the introverted side, not really liking people. When it’s lunchtime, you tend to eat alone not really giving a damn about everyone else. You’re not exactly an outcast, just more comfortable  by yourself. You’ve always been jealous of how Sunoo’s open to people, talkative, and just overall likable. Because unlike him, people think you’re being mean when you’re quiet and it looks like you’re not listening to whatever it is they’re saying. Around school, Sunoo has earned the nickname Sunny while you’ve been given the nickname Winter. Everyone sees how you walk away whenever Sunoo waves at you in the halls. Everyone is aware of how you scoff whenever Sunoo does aegyo in front of you. Everyone notices how you get mad whenever he links his arm with yours. But it’s Sunoo who sees the glint in your eyes the second they meet his by your locker. It’s Sunoo who notices the slight smile that plays at the corner of your lips whenever he calls himself “ddeonu.” And it’s Sunoo who’s aware that no matter how much you protest when your arms link, you’re never the one to let go first. So he sits at the desk in front of yours during lunch, chatting his butt off about his day while stealing bites of your lunch. He gives you face masks with the excuse of “it was a buy one get one free deal and I don’t know who else to give it to.” He asks if he can style your hair playing it off as “practice.” Little by little, you begin to open up. When you see him in the halls, you start to give him a smile reserved only for him. When he does aegyo you tease him by saying that Jake does it better. And when he links his arms with yours, your pinkies intertwine. You bring an extra bag of chips for lunch and start making your portions larger to share with him. You invite him to the mall since you saw an online promo while walking by. You start to enjoy the way he plays with your hair, sometimes even craving his touch. Because we all know, the sun has its way of melting ice. 

Jungwon

Yang Jungwon, the class president, has a 100% success rate in getting field trip forms submitted on time. Well, it would be 100% if it weren’t for you. It seems as if you’ve made it your life’s mission to do everything and anything that’ll piss off Jungwon. Every time there’s a permission slip that needs to get signed, he constantly finds himself having to remind you of it so that it’d get turned in on time. Yet despite this, you always turn it in a day later. When things are kind of slow in class, you’re always talking to someone and have earned the title of the chatty kid no matter where the teacher makes you sit. Jungwon has no clue how someone as big of a procrastinator as you, always chatting with people when you don’t need to, and has your music playing so loud that everyone else hears, gets the good grades that you do. But regardless of what you do, you don’t bring down the class average so he’ll give you that. It’s time for a new seating arrangement and where does the teacher have you sit? Right next to him. So he’s dreading it, knowing that for the next 2 weeks he won’t get any work done, have to deal with you chatting to everyone, and has to be the one to catch you up when you enter class late.

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you settle in the seat next to his. He likes your smile, he won’t lie. But you’re annoying as hell. One week goes by as a back and forth of you constantly making efforts to get on Jungwon’s nerves but he returns the favor while teasing you back. With the two of you as partners, he starts to notice some things about you. Things like how you play with your thumb before raising your hand to answer the question. He sees that your notes are full of rushed scribbles and you dot your i’s close to the center but not just there. Your binder is covered with artwork of things you like and photos of you and your friends. Amidst your chattiness and tardiness, he finds himself looking forwards to certain things. He looks forward to your messy hair as you rush in 15 minutes late and start scribbling your notes in an effort to catch up. He looks forwards to how your conversations become a distraction from lectures. And he wonders to himself, what it’d be like if he were a photo in your binder.

As the second week continues, you start to see things differently with Jungwon. His reminders become less annoying and more useful as you take it in mind. When you’re late, he already has a second copy of the notes waiting for you on your desk. He buys you stickers for your binder using the excuse of “I stole it from my sister.” Before either of you realize it, it’s time for a new seating chart.

“Guess you’re happy to get rid of me, Wonie,” you joke as the two of you stood up to head to your new seats.

“I want you to sit across from me,” you hear him say.

“Huh?”

“At the Eggy Cafe on our first date,” he says before heading to his new seat.

Ni-ki

Dance class, it’s exhausting. Countless hours spent practicing a choreography that only lasts for a few minutes. Constantly getting yelled at by your teacher when you take a wrong step. Continuously in an unspoken competition with the best dancer of the school, Nishimura Riki. Ni-ki fools around during practices, usually to get on your nerves. Whenever you buy bungeoppang at the stall in front of the school, half of it instantly belongs to Ni-ki as he takes a bite when you’re not looking. Whenever the two of you are the only ones who’ve got the choreography down, sometimes you’ll slow things down to piss him off. There’s a flow to Ni-kis dances that no one else can replicate, a flow he was born with and can never be taught. Everyone, including him, is aware of this. But you’ve always been different from everyone else. All his life, he’s been told how good at dancing he is but you criticize him. While the others applaud his performance, your eyes are watching his every move. He almost hates how well you can spot the mistakes he can’t even see on himself. But as time goes on, these little competitions start to develop between you two, even outside of dance. When dance class ends, the two of you race to see who’ll get to the bungeoppang stall first. Last one there pays for bungeoppang. This is the competition you let Ni-ki win, using “I’m already tired from dancing” as an excuse. In the mornings, you compete to get to first period. Loser pays for lunch. This is the competition where there’s a middle ground between you two. Sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, other times you enter class together. When walking home, you compete to get to the bottom of the stairs at the subway station first. Whoever loses has to carry the other’s bag until you get home. Ni-ki lets you win this one, using “If I ran any faster I’d trip,” as an excuse. These small competitions become the things you look forward to throughout the week, enjoying the thrill of small moments with Ni-ki. At one point, the two of you (on separate occasions) talked to Jungwon about the competitions, telling your side. To the both of you, he says the same thing. “Why don’t you see who asks the other out first and plans the better date?”

❦ written by riri (@enhykkul)  | blog masterlist

requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis

[dolliedarlin]

i m p l i c i t  ⏤katsuki b.

p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader 

s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible 

l e n g t h : 1.9k

g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this 

w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting

a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it! 

— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children 

— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other

— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like

— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times

— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc 

— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing

— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that

— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things

— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights

— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?

— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself

— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her

— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough

— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays. 

— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice

— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour. 

— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly 

— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.

— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.

— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,” 

— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood. 

— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished. 

— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.   

— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it

— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero). 

— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training

— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.

— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.

— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response 

— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!” 

— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him. 

— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”

— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping

— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again

— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired

— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation 

— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side

— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind

— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.

— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords

— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry

— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights. 

— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.

— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde. 

— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.

— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist   

— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”

n a v i . | bnha mlist 

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

hi hi! I hope this message isn’t too late or anything, since I only just seen the one you send me this morning! Also I accidentally deleted your messages while trying to reply 🤦‍♀️

But if it’s still alright, may I request an Armin Arlert x slightly thicker/chubby reader? just something soft and simple! maybe he’s noticed that the reader doesn’t eat very much anymore, and is skipping meals, and he confronts her about it, because he doesn’t want her getting sick or something happening. She obviously gets a little upset about it, and like, tells him she’s been having a hard week and has been super insecure lately. She just doesn’t like the way she looks, and Armin comforts her and stuff! All the love and cuddles! 🥰 I’m in need for this rn honestly 😭

I hope i did it right!! Things are more internalized due to my own self indulgence, i hope you like it!!

Tw: self harm(starving) 

Another day passed, and you hated being in the corps more and more, with the men objectifying you and the women with their fake smiles and judgemental looks, aside from Mikasa that is. You felt her hand on your shoulder, staring right back at them as you passed.

She was the only girl-friend you’ve ever had, which makes your bond with each other especially strong, she called you her therapy stuffed animal( in a good way) with how loving and kind you were when she came home to eren’s house. You were always there, you gave her her first jacket, you bear-hugged her when she was at her worst and missed her parents, you stood by her and never faltered. Even going as far as telling off Eren for being tactless to her feelings, poor boy has no social cues.

Eren loved you for how truly different you really are, despite being an only child, you were his sister, as much as a pain in the ass you are. But this called for you being apart of his and Mika’s friend group with no doubt. Being part of erens tight knit group of friends means you were automatically loved by eren, mika…. And armin.

You always had a fondness for the shy blonde, his all bark and no bite nature stole your heart. You met at a young age but only connected through Eren, he always tells you to thank him for that introduction despite your efforts to play off your crush being in vain. You loved how… pure he looked, how in a world full of death and violence, he could always bring light into your day with a smile or a story. No matter what you could count on his smile,you could count on him.

That’s why you hated today with a passion.

“We have extra food, which one of you dumbasses didn’t eat all your shit?” You sighed, walking away from the situation you caused. It wasn’t a good day, their comments bugged you today for some reason, and Armin wasn’t there to perk up the atmosphere of this gloomy day. Making it unreasonably difficult for you to focus on your own health today, this isn’t even the first time this has happened. It’s been a week of irregular meals, constant moving, and titan stress. It wasn’t like you were trying to starve, you just didn’t have the time.

And you didn’t notice till today.

“Lookin’ thinner, bunny… are you eating well?” You ignore eren’s concerned comment, pressing forward with the group in disturbed silence. This was the fifth comment today about your looks that you’ve gotten. You weren’t a small person, you had extra meat, and you had curves, paired with your adorable tiger stripes, but you know for a fact that starving this little would not affect your appearance that much. It irritated you, and you vowed to tell off the next person who said anything.

“Y/n can-“ “Oh my GOD, are you SERIOUS? I’ve been eating! I havent lost that much weight and i don’t want to hear your Perverted FUCKING Mouth say anything! It’s idiotic for you to continue to act like a jealous schoolgirl and make your ‘sly’ comments! So just Shut up!”

You finally open your eyes from your rant, regretful as your irises meet two bright blue eyes on a horrified face. “I was just going to ask if you can slow down and walk with me-“ Guilt floods your mind as you ear him squeak out his words. You lower your gaze and nod, moving to the back of the group with the boy. It didn’t matter how long this would be, you knew Levi would make you set up for camp soon.

“ ‘m sorry armin, you didn’t deserve that, I’m just-“ “Don’t apologize, you didn’t mean it to me but it was still valid. But never mind that, are you ok? Yes you haven’t been eating but you’ve been…. Cold lately..” You wanted to tell him, just say, ‘ I’m so in love with you that even a few days without your voice makes me angry as shit’ but you knew it wasn’t the right time…. And besides, would he even accept a girl like you?

“I’m fine, just stressed, tired, and overwhelmed…. It’s a lot you know?” Armin nods walking closer to you and letting your answer settle before your group sets up for camp and your pace continues to slow.

“You’re beautiful no matter what, I’ve read articles that said starving is actually terrible for your body, unintentional or not, it won’t end up good. If i have to,” He flushes, continuing to look ahead,” I’ll stay with you all day to make sure you’re eating and drinking water.” You freeze, feeling flushed as you watch him walk away and realize that he just offered to be around you all day just for you to be healthy.

You shake it off, keeping his words at the forefront of your mind before you get ready to retire for the night. You find a note on your blanket, asking you to meet armin at his tent with water and a blanket. Curious as to what it means you do as the note says, waiting at armin’s tent before he opens the zipper with a happy smile, welcoming you inside.

“You got the water?” You lift up the container, making him nod and turn away to a covered pile in his room. He takes the cover off, revealing the food he gathered for you two. “You didn’t eat again, so I didn’t either. And before you say anything, i got some of everything  so you have to eat SOMETHING! I told you all day didn’t I?” You look at him with teary eyes, your emotions of the week spilling out at his gesture.

Sobs wrack your body before he pulls you into his form, engulfing you in a warm hug. You feel him draw soothing circles on your back, rocking you and letting out slow shushes in attempts to calm your mind. You feel him kiss the top of your head and rubbing your back more before he pulls away and guides you to the setup of food.

He grabs you a plate of everything, making you sit and eat with him. You nibble at your food, uninterested in grossing out the guy you like by eating in front of him. But that only made him take your fork and feed you himself, he was determined for you to take care of yourself and love yourself as he loves you. You notice him watch you eat with admiration, happy to see you finally giving yourself some nourishment. You hear him sigh and hesitate, but you leave it untouched before he breaks the silence.

“You know…. I’ve loved you for years, ever since you punched out that kid who threatened me for speaking up, and how you always listened to me talk about the books I’ve read and things I’ve heard-“ “i know, i love you too armin.” “No not like that, I’m IN love with you, like i want to hold your hands, kiss you everywhere, curl into you at night, i want to love you.” You stop mid chew, maintaining eye contact as you swallow and stare at him.

“Are you serious?” “Yes.” “Like you’re not-“ “Y/n L/n I am completely and utterly in love with you.” You push the food aside, crawling between his legs and curling up onto his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. “I love you so much it hurts armin. It hurt me so badly when you wouldn’t talk to me, i don’t know what i did but i was so mad that i pushed you away.”

Armin tilted your chin up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he grabbed onto your soft form with a passion. “I’ll never do that again, I’m so sorry beautiful.” You hold onto him tighter pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

He pulls away, reaching over you to grab your blanket…. Man he really plans things out, before he wraps it around you both and presses a kiss to your temple. He lets his hands sink into your skin, loving how your soft skin feels on his fingertips. His lips pepper kisses on your neck, pulling slightly back to press a kiss onto your hairline. You loved how gentle he was with you, you already knew the answer to to your question before he even opened his mouth.

“More then you can ever know, my love.”

[purrsonaimagines]

May I request the "Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” with makoto and akechi? I love them both so much and i am in deprete need of fluff

Akechi Goro

You stood patiently in Akechi’s office in the police department, your hands resting on the polished wood of his desk. He instructed you to wait while he finished up some afternoon work for the day.

You spun around in his chair with a huff of air, looking around curiously. You never had really gotten too good of a look at Akechi’s office, but there wasn’t much to look at.. Some plaques, some photos.. But the most extra thing he has was a mug with pens in it.

“I should really push him to decorate more in here..” You murmured to yourself, brows furrowing in contemplation.

Suddenly the office door flew open, causing you to jump in alarm, eyes darting to the culprit. Akechi stood in a disheveled state, kicking the door shut behind him. He discarded his long coat, as a trail of sweat leaked down his forehead.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” You asked with a kind smile, watching as Akechi only let out a tired huff and dragged the chair across from yours beside you.

You already knew the drill, letting him lean against you as silence overcame the two of you. Akechi pulled out his phone and began typing something, but you paid it no mind. You rain your fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp, blowing on the back of his neck to cool him down.

“Long day I’m assuming?” You asked gently, only getting a tired sigh in return again. Akechi rolled over and put his phone down on the desk beside you before speaking.

“We got a lead on the case I was assigned, and I spent the whole day running around the city... And I didn’t think about how hot it was today so I lugged around that pesky coat..” Akechi groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Aw, poor thing.” You cooed kissing his forehead.

“Well, relax okay? You have a little bit of time off before you habe to go back out.”

“Luckily..” He sighed basking in your touch.

His phone dinged in the silence, and he chose to pay it no mind in favor of closing his eyes. Though you on the other hand, found yourself turning your head to the glowing screen. You pulled one hand away from Akechi’s hair and let the other loop between his arms in an embrace, while the other reached over for the device.

What caught your eye was the background, not the notification..

“Am I your lock screen?”

Akechi choked on his own breath as he jolted forwards slightly, head whipping to the phone in your hand. Clumisly he snatched it back and shoved it away somewhere, a pink hue dusting his cheeks rapidly.

“You weren’t supposed to see that..” He mumured in embarrassment, looking anywhere but you.

“Hey? Why so glum. I think it’s cute, honey.” You hummed in glee, rubbing your nose onto his.

He appeared stunned momentarily, before he noticed you pull out your own phone. You revealed the black screen that soon lit up into an image of him, smiling as he tried out a new food.

At the similarity his face melted into a tired smile, full of warmth and joy.

Makoto Niijima

You absentmindedly waited in LéBlanc Cafe, scrolling through your phone quietly. Ryuji, Akira and Haru talked around you in excitement about some new video game. Though confusion mostly came from Haru’s behalf.

You waited for your girlfriend to come back from the restroom, tapping your feet against the floor.

“Hey, [Name]! You excited for tomorrow?” Ryuji asked changing the subject, nudging your foot with his under the table.

You jumped at the contact and turned to him quickly, setting your phone down beside your girlfriends.

“Huh...? What’s tomorrow..?” You asked in blatant confusion.

“Makoto didn’t tell ya— OW!” Ryuji grunted suddenly, looking to Akira who held a blank face with his elbow rested in Ryuji’s side.

“Oh....” Ryuji caught on, eyes widening in realization.

Your brows furrowed but you shook it off, reaching over for your phone. You opened it, but the wallscreen that met your eyes didn’t belong to you.

The imagine was you watching some fireworks during new years, caught mid air as you jumped around in excitement. Your face softened at the memory, remembering that day so vividly and how it went.

Then you realized.

This wasn’t your phone..

It was Makoto’s.

Your face turned beet red as you suddenly set the phone down, covering your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Whoa there [Name]! What’d you see?” Ryuji said with a laugh, grabbing at the phone with a grin only to falter once he saw the image.

“Aww!” Haru cooed looking at the image. Akira himself even let out a smile, glancing to your flushed form.

“I’m back.” Makoto announced, walking over to the table with a smile.

“Hi, Honey.” You said with a smile, looking sway from her eyes.

“Is there something wrong, love?” Makoto asked in concern, sitting back down next to you. Her hand rested on yours, causing your heart to race.

“U-Um.. Well...” You started, tugging on your shirt collar.

“Am I your lockscreen..?”

At the question, Makoto’s face grew red as she looked down at her lap.

“I-I’m sorry.. If it makes you uncomfortable.. I just.. I thought yoy looked pretty that night..” She explained, covering her mouth with her hand.

You looked around, cheeks still a light pink. You slid closer to her, and let out a small breath of air.

“I.. I think it’s cute, Makoto..” You mumbled, giving a shy smile when her head lifted up.

“R-Really..?” She stumbled, blinking slowly.

“Mhm..” You affirmed with a nod.

“I love you very much, [Name].” Makoto said confidently, holding your hand in hers.

“I love you too, Makoto.”

—

AHHHH GUYS IM SO SORRY HI IM NOT DEAD!!!!! I HOPE UR ALL OKAY RN!! also to anyone new or wondering since im back requests r back open :D

[deniigi]

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

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

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

 --

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

 ---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.  

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

 ---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

��I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

 --------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

 --------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

 -----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

 -----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

 -------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

 -----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

 -------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

 -----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room.  This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

 -------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

 --------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

 ----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

 ---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

 ------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

 ----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

 ---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.  

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

 --------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

 -----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

  Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

 -------------

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

 ---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting  the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

 ----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

 ------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

 --------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

 ---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.