#when my loved ones are free im either working or passed out in pain and exhaustion

[calamitys-child]

I'm being so serious rn if I ever talk about doing another fringe festival run in the next like 3 years at least send me to fucking therapy. It is a cry for help. This is bad for me.

[moonsaver]

Good day moon! Okay I normally don't do asks when it comes to yandere cause it's not my usual thing but seeing the last post you made of Yan!Sunday and his darling, that one where he just desperately wants to have that normalcy in their relationship but couldn't ever have it because of what he's done, made me think of something rather angsty; like how the darling's backlashes against his affections would probably go turn for the worst as time passes on, they don't hate him in a sense because he's really trying hard to not make them hate him and they can see that his love is real (just really fucked up) but that deep urge to hurt the person who took their freedom away is still there, it wouldn't just go away just because he loves them so much that he wouldn't dare to break them. Oh that satisfaction on seeing Sunday looking so hurt after yelling at him, they know it doesn't make them any better than him but at that point, what else is there for them to lose? Maybe in hurting him so subtly, they may find some pity in themselves for him to actually give him some semblance of love but until then, all Sunday ever receives from them are either silent treatment or backlash

Such relationship could only thrive in the worst way possible and maybe Sunday knows that but even then, he still holds out that little (delusional) hope that maybe his darling will still love him someday

Sorry for the rant, it's just that I feel for Sunday but his method will never work and it'll just deeply hurt him and his darling in the end asgfjgsfg also if it's alright, I'd request this but I'll leave it to you with how you write it, be it an imagine or anything else since I'm fine with it!

- Elys

Hello Elys! Im so sorry it took a long time for me to get to your request lol, tons of things got in the way but I remembered this request for a while.

In any case, I feel you've summed it up quite well!

Sunday isn't harsh or as brutal as I imagine him. Unlike my [i have to self advertise here, sorry HAHA] soft yan!blade, Sunday most likely wouldn't even need a bit of working around to be a softer yandere.

He's so loving, it's painful. His love is like despaired poetry for a lover who is still alive, just further than their reach. I imagine his love to be very tender, even as a yandere, if he doesn't become even softer.

And it's hard to convince him he's wrong – mainly because he already knows. But rather that's a bit distorted in his view; instead he thinks it's a wrongdoing against your nature as someone who wants to be free, but correct in the context of the situation rather than actually understanding it is absolutely wrong in general. And he doesn't budge. He's stubborn, almost infuriatingly. And instead of getting angry, I imagine he rather looks disappointed or disgruntled, which somehow does more damage/strikes more fear than anger.

And it's still heartbreaking; frustratingly for both of you, not just yourself.

You lash out, you scream, cry, wail, argue, relentlessly push and resist against him. it's your only way of getting back at him, you're sure as hell you're going to strike the hardest that way. And you relish the hurt you see in the eyes of your captor, but something more sympathetic tugs at you when you see his lovingly sad eyes. It's this cacophony of guilt, frustration, anger, and utter despair at the loss of your freedom. Sunday feels all of it, aswell, and you want to be relieved that he does – if it weren't for the fact he still wasn't letting you go.

He continually withholds your freedom from you. That single injustice to you is enough to weather your patience over time – your anger only burns hotter and hotter, pushing away any semblance of sympathy or reasoning, and it only hurts Sunday more, until you realise what you're doing, and quietly give in to sooth him for the time being. Just a little. Until that little injustice starts bothering you again. It's a toxic cycle.

And it hurts even more when Sunday tries to find normalcy in your relationship; he's trying so hard to be your lover, to hold you gently and bathe you with care, to dry you off and still love you after seeing you bare. He wants to come home and see you smile, be happy, elated that he's there, just as he feels when he sees you. But that's not what happens. His delusions and flimsy expectations are shattered the moment he steps into the dimly lit room, your form refusing to even look at him. The silence is strangely stronger than his hopes.

Anyways, that's all i can think of at the moment. I love angst yandere sunday time.

[storm-angel989]

🎀IM SORRY FOR BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX! But Val/Vox(idrc which one) x Anorexic Daughter Reader?🎀

PLEASE READ BEFOREHAND

Hi Friend,

You’re not blowing up my inbox- I keep every request in a google doc and when inspo hits I work on it! If I ever decide I won’t do a request I won’t just delete it- I’ll post and say it directly <3 

Preface for this work:

 I’m considered a plus sized equestrian/plus sized human. Eating disorders come in all shapes, sizes and issues. I believe it’s Blythe Barid who said “If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story.”

Stories like these are based on my own experiences and issues- and on this topic, I’ve had quite a few. Please remember that all bodies are worthy of love and respect, care and concern. It's a tough concept to wrap our heads around, and admittedly I still struggle with it. 

A little background info: 

ED’s are a huge part of my writing that I haven’t published. Ana and Mia are characters I have created (or maybe my own food issues created them). Either way, they’re  separate entities for separate stories- demons that I imagine have their own place in hell as well as in my writings (all of which have been in existence far longer than Hazbin). That being said, naming your ED is something I did and I have done. Even for the purpose of writing this story, the entire thing felt wrong without Ana running the behind the scenes. 

With this one I tried to pain the pain, the anger and frustration behind that never feeling good enough feeling. I would be open to doing part two if folks would be interested. Please also know I’ve written on this topic in several other forms if you explore my masterlist (or I can directly send you the links if you PM me). 

<3 Mandy 

I stepped on the bathroom scale and looked at the number that flashed below. The words of my coach echoed in my mind- I needed to lose the summer weight, or else I would be benched for the rest of the season. She had helpfully provided me with a journal to keep track of my weight, what I ate in a day, activities I did and how many calories I burned in accordance with my VoxTech watch. 

A month ago, I had met her goal, thus ending the weekly weigh-ins. According to her, I had lost enough weight to maintain my place on the team. It was on me now to make sure that I maintained that weight, or lost more. In her exact words, you could never be too skinny. 

“Bebita? Breakfast,” my fathers voice called from the hallway. “Come on, before it gets cold.”

The number told me I hadn’t gained weight, but I hadn’t lost weight either. I picked my backpack up and slung it over my shoulder. 

“Sorry, Dad! I’m late! I’ll eat at school, I promise,” I answered back as I rushed out the door. 

Surely skipping breakfast wouldn’t hurt. 

Skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch. Skipping lunch turned into avoiding dinner. Sugar free jello and skinny pop became my go to snacks as the numbers in my book slowly but surely began to get smaller. Somewhere, a little voice inside my head began to cheer my successes on the scale. Over time, I learned that she had a name. 

Ana. My secret diet partner. My invisible cheerleader. The willpower I needed to keep going on the hardest days. And most importantly, someone who paid attention to me, 

With each passing day, Ana grew louder. She encouraged me to keep my diet a secret from my family. After all, they wouldn’t understand. Pleasing her, it became almost like an addiction- a game I played with myself to see just how little I could become. Food became nothing more than numbers, an obsession that consumed every minute, every second of my thoughts and desires. 

In my household, it wasn’t hard to keep it to myself. Hell, one could argue that I wasn’t technically even keeping it a secret. My father had a very important job, after all. And my Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make the connection. A quick, I ate earlier, sorry! And I got off scott free. Ana cheered with each no thank you I uttered. My head between my knees after practice had become a ritualistic practice. Waiting for the black spots to fade, taking deep breaths to try to regain the energy to stand up and walk out to the awaiting limo. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting at home for me anyway. 

On the daily, I kept a careful eye on my voxtech watch. The first time my blood sugar dropped, I got a call from Vox. Paniced waves rushed through me. A suggestion from Ana to bribe to a friendly tech demon. A brief trade later, I had constant vitals being sent from my watch, my real ones hidden behind a password. With this newfound freedom, outside of homework and practice, my time normally devoted to hobbies or hanging out with friends became time to sleep. After all, I was working on the perfect body. I needed my rest. 

For almost six months, Ana and I were best friends. 

Saturday morning. Game day. One of the busiest days for my father. After all, lust and depravity raked through the weekends like wildfire. Or at least, that was what he claimed. I stood in front of the mirror trying desperately to tighten the drawstring 

“Hey bebita?” I heard my fathers voice call from the hallway. “Baby, are you up?”

“Yeah, Dad. I have a game today,” I snapped as I tied another knot in the string. 

Why the fuck wouldn’t these stupid shorts stay up? I fumed to myself. Every part of my body ached, and even yanking on my shorts sent black spots and exhaustion rushing through my body. I leaned my head against the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this. 

The next thing I heard was my fathers voice, felt his hand shaking my shoulder. It took every ounce of energy to open my eyes. 

“Bebita? Reader, can you hear me?” Valentino asked frantically. “Princessa, wake up, now!”

“I’m fine,” I muttered as loudly as I could. Somehow, I managed to push myself upright. 

“You most certainly are not fine,” he replied sharply. “I’m taking you downstairs to the doctor, right now.”

Doctor. That meant I would miss the game. No, I had an obligation to my teammates. Somewhere in my head, Ana screamed.

Get up, fatass!

You really want to fuck this up for everyone?

You better not let him take you to the doctor, you do that and you’ll never find perfection. 

“I’m fine,” I growled, louder this time. I pulled myself to my feet and black spots dotted my vision. I felt my fathers arms around me and in seconds, I was off the floor and in his arms.

“Put me down, I can walk,” I tried to yell. Inside my head, Ana screamed louder, demands and insults about my current predicament. I pressed my hands to my head and curled my fingers in my hair, “Dad let me down NOW!” 

He ignored me as he carried me down the hallway. 

“Vox? Velvette? Both of you, with me. Now. We have a problem.” He said loudly. 

“Woah, what’s going….” Vox’s voice began. 

I shoved my hand against my father as he walked through the living room.  To my relief, he set me down on the couch. 

“What?” I snarled as three sets of eyes stared at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

Vox checked his phone and then walked over to me. With one finger, he lifted off my Voxtech watch. 

“Hey! Give that back!” I demanded. “I’m going to be late to my game!”

All three of them ignored me. Wordlessly, Velvette walked away and returned moments later, bathroom scale in hand. She set it infront of the couch and gave me a hard look. 

“Step on.” 

“Fuck you,” I snapped as I stood up. I tried to ignore the black spots that danced just out of sight. “My weight is none of your fucking business.”

“Reader!” Valentino said in dismay. “That’s no way to talk to your Aunt.”

“I’m leaving, I’m already late. Thanks, Dad,” I continued sarcastically as I kicked the scale aside. 

Inside, Ana cheered. I bent down to pick up my backpack and the world around me spun. Three steps,  and Vox’s hand gripped my upper arm. The last thing I heard was Ana’s voice screaming indistinguishable words. 

When I came to again, I found myself in a room of gray and blue. Wires stuck out from my chest, and I tried to cough and spit the feeling of something painful in the back of my throat. I tried to reach up, to shove my fingers down my throat, and my skin met padded white cuffs. 

What the fuck?

You’re going to have to work hard to get yourself out of this one, Ana taunted. Great job getting caught, fatass. 

“Hey, baby, it’s alright, Papi is here,” I heard my father’s voice say somewhere far away. 

“Mr. Valentino, I promise we’ll be in touch when she’s more stable,” a new voice said. “For now, it might be best to give her some space to…”

Indistinguishable arguments. My fathers refusal and reminder of who exactly was in charge here. My Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette chiming in, a mix of talking him down and agreement. 

Panic shot through me as the haze slowly began to wear away. Realization. Through the fog, only one word came to mind. 

Fuck.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 14: BONDAGE Trafalgar Law 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @valval08 ➡ Hi @sashi-ya YESSSSSS IM AO EXCITED TO KINK-TOBER!!!! If it is not already taken. Can I please request Law x Female Reader with print number 14 leather straps / bondage. Can the reader be a brat and trying to distract Law from his work as a challenge. So she will send subtle messages. Cause we all know that man needs a break lols 😂 tw: mdni. can be considered part 2 of day 12 . tied with his belts to a chair. fingered while he has a video call. spanks. oral sex. rough sex. name calling. wc: ~2k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

That night, when the car turned into your love nest, ended with both of you absolutely tired. A lot more than before.

However, work should be done the next day. So, Law, woke up and turned on the computer. At the moment, he was taking some time off from hospital, so he only arranged videocalls to chat with patients and be able to do a follow-up on their states after cardiac surgery.

You wake up, with your body a little sore. It was easier when younger, even if you are sure Law would have left you in the same state either way.

From his room you hear him chatting with someone, and soon remember it must be one of his patients. Yet, the little giggles of such patient were making you a total mess. You get it, Law is absolutely handsome. His dark aura, how intelligent and amazing surgeon that he is, the sound of his low voice, his silver eyes and those tattoos that antagonize with the stereotypical look of a respected doctor… he is by far different. He is more than attractive…

Would it be bad to pass walking right behind him? To show the giggling patient that indeed a man that hot is already taken?

By the time you ponder how mad he could get, you are already walking by covered in his white sheets, wearing just satin shorts underneath. You act surprised when you see the camera, so do a little jump, cover your mouth with your hand, and run away -not before looking at the camera for the stupid patient to see your “do not come any closer to my man or you will perish” look.

Law opens his eyes wide, and his cheeks turn bright red. His caramel skin does very little to cover his embarrassment. And you are trying not to laugh, as you sit down in the kitchen to look at him while he -tries to- keeps working.

The sheets that were covering are now thrown over the couch, and your bare chest flashes on the corner of his eye.

You calmly open a bottle of water -it was needed- and drink calmly as you listen him ask, now a little out of himself, medical question to his patients.

In between patient and patient, who Law seems to asses quick enough to get rid of them all in less than an hour, he scolds you.

“(Name)-ya?! It wasn’t necessary! Why- why are you half naked?” he asks, as if he wasn’t hard already from the “accident” you just had with the bottle of water and the drops of cold one drizzled on your breasts.

“I didn’t know- you could have woke me up. I was thirsty, I wanted water and I could only find out at the kitchen… I’m sorry ~” you purr a fake excuse, while trying to dry the drops on your skin playing so nonchalantly with your nipples.

“I can’t fuck you right now, I still have two patients left” he grunts, crossing his long legs. It’s obvious he is dying to penetrate you right there and now.

“I wasn’t asking for it, please finish your work… I will just eat a banana for breakfast and then get into the shower. Go on...” you smirk, peeling one of the fruits over the kitchen table.

Law closes his eyes, and his dark circles intensify. His “painful” expression can be interpretated as, one; he is worried for the integrity of his dick, or two; he is hating that last patient before he could be free to fuck you rough, or ultimate the number three: option one and two together.

As he sits back down in front of his laptop and waits for the next video conference, you begin eating the banana… well, eating it’s just a bad way to explain what you were doing to that poor potassium fountain… As if he was his dick, you tempt him while enjoying your sweet breakfast.

You can see his leg anxiously bouncing under the desk, and his hand trying to stop you with desperate shaking. You, however, won’t stop. If you can turn him on to the point of not be able to do anything else but fuck you, you will. No matter what.

And by the moment he finally bids goodbye to that poor old man, whose heart has been patched up by Law several times, he closes the laptop in violent motion.

Law stands up, an aura of invisible fire surrounds him. He is mad, and horny and tired but needy.

“You little shit, come here” he grunts, grabbing you by the hand and pulling for you to stand up.

You laugh and choke with the last piece of banana, but immediately stop even breathing. Law gets his lips closer to yours, almost grazing them. And pulls you towards him, mercilessly.

“You brat, If you are that eager to choke, don’t do it now… choke with my dick instead when I’m done” he growls, softly slapping one of your breasts and then sitting you back down.

You widen your eyes. Law can be rougher; it’s just about pushing the right buttons… And while you expect for him to lower his pants down, he simply orders you to wait sitting there. You fidget your fingers, what is he doing?

A couple of minutes pass and then you see him coming from his bedroom with various belts in his hands and perverse smirk.

“Uh… Law? What are those for?” you ask, worried -not really-

“You can’t keep yourself still, therefore I need to tie you down until I’m done with my last patient” he calmly informs you, while expertly joining to belts to make a longer one.

You smile, excited. But are you sure this is gonna be a soft bondage attempt?

“Turn around, kneel on the chair” he commands, pulling from your hair to “help” you.

You gasp, you are in awe… this is a first time, even for you.

Law proceeds to lower your silky satin shorts down, enough to uncover your core. The shorts get stuck at your knees’ height, and he seems pleased with it.

“Spread your legs, now” he commands, carving his nails in the inner side of your thigs.

You do, thinking of the bruises that will appear on the sides of your legs as the arm rests engrave in your skin.

Your feet hang down, and your ankles quickly feel the cold surface of his leather belts securing them to the chair’s arm rests support.

Law then surround the chair to watch your both confused and amazed façade.

“Your hands. Pass them in between the open spaces of the splat” he orders, pulling from them to tie your wrists together with the belt.

You allow him to move and position as he pleases, as his personal doll. However, you are still confused by the fact there is yet another patient he needs to attend. Did that person cancelled the videocall? Or what is he planning to do?

“Law… wha- what about your last patient?” you ask, but he definitely stays quiet. And suddenly you sense him pulling from the chair until you are left right next to his desk.

“I told you that I had to keep you still somehow, and this, I think, is the best way. If you dare to make any sound while I’m on the videocall, I will leave you there for the rest of the day without fucking you” he informs you. Law isn’t playing, and you wonder if he has always been that kind of sadist. In any case, you are excited to see what’s next -and how to stay silent all throughout the videocall-

You nod and wait.

He sits down, moves the laptop to the side so that the camera won’t be facing you in any way, and proceeds to wait for his patient. He seems to ignore you, until his arm stretches, and his index begins to play with the wetness of your labia. Now you understand why you should keep yourself quiet.

Law seems to be unbothered while he finally starts the consultation with his patient. It is a woman, who seems to be also flirting with him. Your toes curl and imagine in pure jealousy how she might be fluttering her eyelashes to him… however, as if nothing happened, in angle that couldn’t be seen in the web cam, the one being fingered by Law was no other woman but you.

You bite your lip, trying not to moan. Your eyes shut close, praying for the outside noise cancelling microphone would cover your low whimpers when he uses the perfect beckoning motions on you.

All of a sudden, Law laughs with his patient and takes his fingers out of you. You are dying to moan louder, to mark some territory. But you remember his words… staying there all day and above all not getting fucked is enough punishment not to disobey him.

As he has stopped touching you, you keep dripping unstoppable strings of pleasure. Imagery that Law checks in quick side looks towards you. He is probably wanting to end with the meeting as soon as possible… but maybe not. Maybe leaving you needy, as you did with him, sounds better.

Your breasts are squeezed against the backrest of the chair, and with subtle up and down motions you try to reach for some pleasure by grazing them with it. But nothing seems to be enough… you really want Law’s dick inside one of your holes.

When you finally listen to the words “You are doing great, Miss Hancock. I will need you to come to my office next month. Send my salutes to your husband, Luffy” you smirk… now, the moment he closes his laptop, he will be all yours…

Or rather you, will be all his.

“Look at the mess you made, (Name)-ya…” he grunts, giving you a spank on your ass.

You flinch but moan out of pleasure. It felt unexpectedly hot to be slapped so suddenly.

“Will you fuck me now, Law ~? I kept it quiet and still…” you purr, proud of your submissive behaviour.

Law scoffs, standing right in front of you. His pants fall to the ground, and his hard dick flashes its erection close to your lips.

“Not yet, I promise you to choke first. You were hungry, weren’t you?” he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to guide your mouth to his throbbing tip.

You gag, choking as he said with his sex reaching your throat. He is punishing you with deep thrusts, using your mouth until he is satisfied with the tears running from the corner of your eyes to your cheeks.

You fight against your muscles turning weak, and you keep taking his hardness in your mouth like his good girl. Proud surgeon, he felt, to see you looking up at him while getting “orally” abused.

Satisfied with your noises and strings of saliva sprouting from the commissures of your lips, he finally lets you breath and positions at your back.

“Now, (Name)-ya… you deserve to be fucked” he moans in your ear, after bending over your back while grazing your entrance with his saliva coated dick.

“F… fuck me, please… Law… my knees…” you plead, with your knees already in pain from holding your weight, but eager to get penetrated by his extra horny self.

He carves his fingers on your left ass cheek, pulling up and to the side to spread you enough for him to go deep. He guides his sex with his free hand, and his goatee graces your nape. “Get ready to be wrecked. You played too much with me, and I’m specially hard in the mornings”

You tremble, his voice right in your ear… his scent, the weight of his body on yours, how open you are, the tip slipping inside…

“Fuck, Law!!” you whine louder than ever, and now that he is inside you his hand lands on your mouth. Slipping his thumb on your mouth as he starts to pound, violently, hard, mercilessly…

“Be a good girl and take it well… I hope this is what you were looking for…” “I… it… is even better, Law ~”

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️

[watashime-ciel]

rhythm heaven headcanons because im more sad than i should-

but first of all i have an announcement. and its that today, august 18th in argentina, its children's day and as im 16 im still technically a child to i asked my mom to get me something very specific as a gift. so, in a few weeks or months, dj yellow plushie is coming home! i wanted both yellow and blue, but she could only pay for one, so i chose yellow. hes gonna be with me in conventions from now on, either being tied up on the table so people buy me stuff to free him (/lh), or being my cosplay pal. thats all. if you wanna follow the dj yellow plushie adventures, follow me on instagram berry_lemon_arty, and if you cant find it, try with watashime_vkipper. its the same acc, but im changing the user soon to watashime_vkipper when i go back to my showroom. ANYWAYS lets go with the headcanons (and idc if i repeat some from past posts, i cant remember what i said)

-J.J is someone very insecure, actually. and lets out his anger on others (ahem, Yellow). but when he met Cecil, things changed a bit. Cecil allowed him to be angry, sad, disappointed, and make questions that were a call for reassurance

-Yellow has worked restlessly to buy a ticket to see Kikuo, no matter if he was in another country. and he never could- something happens everytime hes going to buy a ticket, and the money goes somewhere else. he cried for days because of that (reference to Kikuo just leaving argentina in this instant, although im not a fan lol)

-Cecil is also a germaphobic, but not as much(?) as Blue is. Cecil can at least touch whatever is contaminated to throw it away or clean it, whilst Blue cant because he feels like hes gonna pass out

-Yellow has been more time in a mental hospital than in school.🧍

-for a time, Blue was convinced he only signed up to Yellow's dj classes because he fell in love with him at first sight. it was during the time he was unsure how to express himself

-remember that Yellow's spirit animal is Len Kagamine? but its also Angel Dust, and possibly Spinel for how flexible he is. breakdancing? he can do it. pole dancing? he can do it. parkour? he can do it. lyra dancing? he can do it. dance trapeze? guess what. HE CAN DO IT. has he ever broken a bone or something? surprisingly, no. the only time he did was his right ankle at a comic con, participating on the cosplay contest as Kokoro Tsurumaki dancing Egao Sing A Song. Kokoro uses heels, and he loves them, and knows how to dance and do acrobatics with them. but he jumped and didnt get down very well, breaking his right ankle, but finishing the performance like nothing and winning the best performance prize. he only felt the pain once he sat down, but he did feel something wrong after not getting down properly

-you cant use your fingers to count the amount of times Blue got back home from work and saw Yellow in a female cosplay. and you cant also count the different reactions he had. dont use your imagination that much.

-Cecil is obsessed with Final Fantasy (a reference to Soushi)

-J.J may or may not accidentaly call acoustic guitars, "autistic guitars". most of the times he doesnt notices that

-whenever Cecil went to J.J's house (to his parents', actually), J.J's mom would do that classic "mom-embarassing-son" conversation thing. that way Cecil found out stuff about J.J that he couldnt even imagine lol

[ashwii]

i wanted to ask stuff about your rottmnt celestial au and idk if i'm doing it right (im new to tumblr), but uh apologies in advance i thought of a lot of questions

so since Leo feels pain when one of the stars die, does Mikey also feel pain when a comet dies? what about the things they overlook but don't embody (other moons, other suns, all the other zippity things)? do they still feel physical pain for those things?

2. are Raph and Donnie literally the sun/moon? bcuz you said what happens for eclipses , but like- is the sun literally a giant turtle and are donnie and raph just stuck in orbit? if they wanted to travel to a different part of space, would the sun/moon just disappear?

3. is each individual star, zippity thing, moon, and sun, embodied by a creature thing like the turtles? you said that they consider the planets good friends, so are the planets creatures? and is earth literally whatever creature they are with people living on it?

4. you said that raph is the oldest even though leo would technically be oldest, but i like to imagine leo is the oldest, he just did something really dumb centuries ago and "got his oldest sibling rights revoked." he complains about it sometimes but was compensated with getting to be twins with donnie (this wasn't really a question lol)

5. do the siblings ever feel inferior to each other? like does donnie get upset that he always has to orbit something and does raph get upset he embodies something leo already kinda does? is this angst potential?

6. if the turtles are just floating around in space, does NASA not have any pictures of them? cause satellites? what do they think about satellites and the humans trying to go to space?

7. if the earth's sun/moon died, would raph/donnie also die, or do all of the suns/moons have to die? what about mikey? is it just the comets dying that would kill him or does it have to be everything?

8. is any of the siblings more powerful than the other, or all they all balanced out somehow?

9. what do they do in their free time? it seems like they would get bored a lot

10. what do they think about humans worshipping the sun and stuff? do they even know about that?

11. not a question, but this au seems really cool and i really love the designs C:

Oh boy this is a lot, SO IN ORDER

Yes they do! It's just no where neat as prevalent as leo, since there are LOTS and LOTS of stars up in space.

Ah, that's kinda thinking too deep about it — they make an eclipse bc it's a "sun and moon thing" to do, but it's not like they're literally stuck to one spot and can't move. This is just a silly au with fun ideas, no need to limit ourselves to what legitimately happens up in space ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ [and even then, I almost think of the celestial turts more as concepts than physical beings — maybe only having a physical form to talk to april hehe].

Nope! The planets and such are just there doing their own thing. It's like how maybe you pass a tree every day on you way to work, and overtime you say hi to the tree, maybe sit by it, talk to it — that's about the turt's relationship with the planets [and other celestial things], except i like to think there a bit of a legitimate connection there hehe.

[Skipping down to 5] Mmm I don't think so 🤔 maybe as a sibling rivalry thing Leo reminds raph that he's "so much better" than him XD. But they all love their rolls and what they look over.

NASA doesn't have any pics, like I saod I think of the space turts more as concepts than physical beings. Donnie js suoer into eath tech tho — S.H.E.L.D.O.N. is actually made of lost human space tech, and the turts love that the human want to see space so bad.

Donnie and Raph a little different than Leo and Mikey — at least in my head. Donnie and Raph SPECIFICALLY embody earth's moon and sun, so if either Donnie or Raph die, then earth's sun/moon dies. Mikey is the embodiment of ALL the comets, and Leo is the embodiment of ALL the stars. So if Leo were to die, then all the stars would go out, and same kind of thing for Mikey and his comets.

I mean, none of them have powers or anything 🤔 they don't exactly "control" everything that goes on in space, they're just uo there kind of vibing, hehe.

They talk to each other, they tend to what they look over, and they observe the life on earth— seems boring to us, but they love each and every thing up and space, and they love the life on earth so much <3

Mm, I honestly have no idea what they would think about that XD. I feel that maybe they'd be flattered, aha.

And thank you, I'm happy you like the au <3

[lostacelonnie]

True but thats like. Part of the charm almost. All the issues. Yeah thankfully the days are lengthening again & the terrible holiday season has finally passed, which made me. So tired. Hence my response delay. Yeah they should chill but im glad that the last bit was. Easy for you? I was around my family for like. A day. & it was exhausting i can only imagine what a week takes out of you. I wish more americans were like that some guy tried to talk to me a bit at the theater yesterday when i went to see godzilla minus one & it was exhausting. Also funny story everyone at my work was so exhausted last week i said something in spanish to my co worker from el salvador & he completely did not understand because of exhaustion. Oh that pretty cool. I had to learn so that i wasn't like. Having sandwiches & ramen all the time & now im trying to find time to make my own bread so like. Slippery slope. But yeah knowing a few recipes is always a good idea. Thats always the best, having friends who are chill with quiet. Does anyone have a good school? I will believe in the process because star rail is also giving me that pain with argenti's story quest & ruan mei's swarm thing. Ah okay so antimatter legion but less controlled in a way. Oh so thats what herscherr means. How come some have like multiple herscherr forms if ive seen right? Entymology is very interesting i love it. I sure need to remember traces & such more i keep forgetting. & it shows in my multi target dps characters. Worlds worst wingwoman indeed i love her. Cant wait to get further into it & see more claire. Roguelikes are a lot of fun i enjoy them greatly. I thought they would annoy me but hades proved me wrong. Noita sounds fun ill check it out at some point. Himeko mvp of all time she better survive penacony. Whoa that's a lot of seele lore. I love her damn. Explains her a bit in star rail too. What with sea of quanta, themes of death, scythe as a weapon. Also cocolia connection. And bronya really went hard for seele damn i love her too. Are her legs being broken why she like. Uses something to hover in the game? Have any other bronya facts? Or mei? Im glad your polish post radar works so well.

it really is ADHFGLSKFKG. and god yeah FINALLY. also happy new year!!!!!! very late but still!!!!!! this was my first week back in school after the holidays [well. actually it was Two Days] but im already tired. aooougugh. but oh well! GOD. my family In General is like. Fine. i really dont mind them. but i have to stay with my grandma who is just impossible to coexist with...... luckily my mom allowed me to mostly just hang out in our room and not interact with her that much since she shares my opinion. and augh that sounds. Irritating. i enjoy being left the fuck alone. AHDKKS it really is like that........ on wednesdays we have 8 am classes with the one teacher we have that speaks Exclusively spanish so we often do a irl co op mission with the entire group if we wanna convey like literally any message to her. and oh understandable!!! im probably gonna end up the same way sjfkgj. my mom never really taught me to cook since she doesnt like to do it [which, i get it] but i personally really enjoy the process so well see how that goes. AND FOR REAL i genuinely do not believe theres such thing as a good school. or even a Normal school. also fairrrrrr i actually returned to star rail for ruan mei [<- not immune to Pretty Autistic Women] and also had trouble with the swarm boss...... actually made me update my clara build. can you believe this. but tbh i havent done argentis quest yet and im fully spoiler free so im gonna see how that goes JDJGKKSJG. and yeah!! and with multiple herrscher forms its like. usually people obtain multiple herrscher forms either in like. change in belief? approach? which lets them harness other parts of their power [or add new ones], like in the case of HoFlamescion or HoTruth; merge [HoRimestar]; or find a new external source of their power [CE HoOrigin, HoFinality]. but i dont believe its ever explained in Detail so yeah. but generally, the power of a herrscher is stored in their herrscher core, so obtaining multiple cores can give people multiple authorities [like in the case of sirin]. but as i said, typical Honkai Confusion. ETYMOLOGY IS SUPER FUN YEAH...... and for real. if manaria has 1000 fans i am one of them if manaria has 1 fan its me against the world if manaria has no fans i am dead. noita IS fun but i should warn you youre not gonna get anywhere without external guidance. i mean. Maybe you will but its gonna be frustrating as hell and near impossible. its that kind of game. but the fanbase knows that and is actually very helpful!!! solving this games secrets is a team effort. as of right now i have 63h in and 2 wins [got one today, actually! congrats, me.] but i rec it heavily. its fun. AND YES GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HI3 FANS SCARED ARE FOR HSR HIMEKO. they cant take her from us again............ AND YES SEELE. I LOVE SEELE. its actually canon she has a kind of "you are not immune to seele" aura that makes people unable to say no to her bc of just how much of a lovely person she is. and yes that is the reason bronya floats around ingame!!! AND WELL. due to the fact that bronya and mei are both a part of the Main Trio, telling you. literally Any amount of lore about them would take me way too fucking long. and im so sorry but im just mentally unable to do that. and thank you o7 polska gurom ‼‼‼‼💯💯💥🔥💥‼💯🔥💥

[suzyqrara]

03/01/23

Wow, I am sad tonight.  It doesn't help that Facebook shows me til tons of beautiful people finding each other and reminding me...at this moment...I am not one of them.  I feel so ugly.  I feel like I used to be beautiful.  I used to have potential.  But I’ve let myself go and I feel I dont deserve that.  I love myself and I have such amazing potential.  But this potential is lost deep inside.  I would love to say I am healing from my terrible years trying to find my career but what if this is not what is happening?  What if this is the new Alla.  I feel like I am wasting my youth and instead of enjoying it, I am crying.

I told myself I will get my nails done sometime this month and continue to do that of myself.  I got a picture of me the other day and I really I have skin sag on my hands.  I dont want my hands to look so saggy when I am only 34 years old.

So nails will help me to have better looking hands.  I want to get wigs.  I dont know here to start with that. I want eye brows. I want better looking skin.  I can start with the nails and skin but time is ticking.  Man.  This was supposed to be my prime years.  I pictured it, I waited for it.  I 100% knew this would be the decade I will meet someone, I would get my weight controlled, I would begin to live.  Hair done, nails done, But 4 years have passed and it's been the complete opposite. Now that I work at Drexel I feel like I can start and I will!

I dont know where to even begin.  But I am happy I found a job I can settle in and now I can work on myself. I will start with nails and going to the dermatologist.  I hope to control my weight this year.  I hope next year I can get my chin/neck done.

It doesn't help I got rejected today either.  I think it is what triggered me the whole day really.  I also think this is period based.  Dont worry, he was another one of those losers who flaunted his fake job as a music producer.  But, I wonder if I looked different would I not been rejected by a loser?

That's really what hurts by ego. A roach rejected me.  Im used to rejecting them.  Icouldnt help but feel the last roach I dated put a curse on me so now no-one wants me not even the losers on online dating...My lowest was at CSL.  I am climbing up there but I am scared it will take longer than I was hoping it would take.  However long it take...but Im thinking it will be the rest of my 30s....

I know that with the right person, I will know how to be a social butterfly and awkward.  I know that with the right person, I will be sexual and would be motivated to have sex.  I know with the right person, they will find me because lord know Im done trying to find ...can you imagine if my right person stopped trying to find me?  Maybe I should keep looking even though it is painful and kills me inside.  I won't give up on my love and I will try to find him as well. 

But I need to work on myself.I am doing a good job so far.  Ive been working out since sept and doing my best with eating boring food.  I am seeing a nutritionist now and I plan to go onto weight watchers when my 6 free sessions are over.  I am working towards working out during Friday and Saturdays because it has been so hard for me to work out on those days.  I did lose 5 lbs by the way...even though I feel very bloated.  But then again my period is coming. I won't stop trying to find people but I know I won't find my love online.  I'll keep entertaining myself with online..but it's been so dry since the last roach. No one messages me...These are the moments I have to show myself love and comfort.  Alla, you are a beautiful soul.  You are soul that deserves love.  You are an amazing mother and any man would be lucky to have you as their wife.  You take time to soften.  You take time and the right person will take as much time as you need for you to feel comfortable.  Unfortunately, this world is fucked and no-one takes time anymore.  They jump from one relationship to the next,  They can't go one second without being in a relationship.  People get bored easily and cheat on each other.  Men are so disrespectful to women in this age. Yet there are women that find these amazing men and attract them.I can't attract any amazing men right now because I just feel so no me.  My skin is flaring up.  My neck is turning into my moms, my arms is huge and my gut won't go away. 

It takes time to heal from the awful year you had last year.  this is your trauma. You need to work through this.  when will I get time to figure out this doctor shit? I need to do so much.  go get a regular check up, dermatologist, vagina doctor, eye doctor, dentist, therapist. ugh. at least I have a nutritionist.  I dont sleep well so maybe this is also why I am thinking so black and white. 

God has blessed me with so much peace in this lifetime.  thank you lord for the peace and the security.  Thank you lord for Mason, he is such a precious soul and I know his life will be amazing.  I am so grateful for the love I experience with Mason every single day.  I am so grateful for the love I feel for my rabbits.  I am so grateful for the feeling of safety I feel in my home.  The warmth I feel in my bed.  The peace I feel in my job.  I am so grateful for Drexel, for hiring me and giving me enough to switch jobs.  This is truly the beginning of my healing and my rejuvenating because I am not stressed with work.  I dont feel angst driving to work.  I think about feeling it and I remember, there is nothing uncomfortable I have to face today.  I love walking into my office, making my second cup of coffee, sitting gin my chair and answering emails.  such peace!  I dont need to have student like me.  it would be nice, but it is not necessary.  I do not have th pressure of being liked.  I can have a bad meeting with a student and I am fine.  I can brush it off and tell myself, “This one was bad but I bet the next one will be fine.”such a breath of fresh air.  my melatonin is kicking.  I dont feel as sad. 

Goodnight

[witchybitchy222]

Azriel x Reader

Renewal | Chapter Four

Azriel x Female Reader

Based on this ask:

“My brain literally will not shut up about reader from our world who is actually the reincarnation of Rhys’ sister (and Az’s mate duh)but NONE of them realize it until she dies/gets put into the cauldron and comes back as high fae”

IM BACK BITCHES!! As some of you know, I’ve been slow to get more parts written because well, for one I never expected this many people to be invested in my writing and I’m (!!!!) and two, I just got married less than a month ago, and for the past year my life has been all about the wedding. BUT now I’m married and free to write! This is really just a fun filler chapter but I promise a more plot-driven part is coming soon! As always, send me suggestions if you have any! A lot of you asked to be added to the tag list, so if I forgot you I’m SO SORRY! Pls message me and I’ll add you ASAP. Much love! -J

Y/N

“Ow!” You yelped as you reached up to pat your aching scalp. “I have a human pain tolerance you know” you scowled at Mor’s reflection in the mirror as the female winced behind you.

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to do my absolute best, it’s your first night out with us!” Her fingers wove through your hair, braiding back the front pieces so they were out of your face. She’d assured you you’d want your hair out of the way once she got you on the dance floor.

“Im certain we’ll have an amazing time” Feyre assured the blonde as she came into the bedroom, giving you a wink over Mor’s shoulder.

You surveyed the females in the room with you. Mor in her silky red halter dress, lips painted to match, Feyre in a two-piece outfit of glittering deep purple that showed off just the right amount of cleavage, a sliver of her stomach was visible and the bell sleeves swished as she moved. Nesta was in a deceptively alluring dress, the high neck and long length made it unassuming, but the way the fabric hugged her curves was mesmerizing, and when she turned a cut out revealed her entire back from her neck to the base of her spine. You were anxious to see what had been chosen for you to wear.

You stared at your reflection as Mor put the finishing touches on your hair. The makeup the female had applied to your skin made you glow and your eyes popped with the subtle eyeliner. You had to admit you looked good, but being surrounded by all these fae females with their otherworldly beauty made it hard to feel confident.

“Perfect!” Mor all but squealed as she took in her work. “I’ll go grab your dress!” She rushed from the room and you grabbed your wine glass from the vanity, downing the rest in one gulp, you’d need a little liquid courage for this, you were certain. Nesta snickered from her chair by the fire and Feyre shot you a sympathetic look.

“She’s so excited, it’s like she’s a girl with a new doll” Nesta smirked at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m just hoping whatever she’s cooked up for me to wear gives me some semblance of coverage.” You said with a wince.

Your confidence was waning, and the last thing you needed was a dress that showed off all your human imperfections. Mor brought out a dark blue garment that had you feeling more than unsure, but when you looked in the mirror after she and feyre zipped you in, you were shocked at how good you looked. The dress had a sweetheart neckline that dipped just enough to show a bit of cleavage before lining up with the off-the-shoulder sleeves. The bottom was snug at your hips, but light and flowy around your legs, with a high slit on either side, it was gorgeous.

“Wow. I look incredible” you said as you looked at yourself from all angles.

Mor laughed “See!” She began “I knew you’d love it, you look amazing and more importantly you FEEL amazing.” You gave the female a quick hug, thinking how much you truly appreciated these people who had taken you in.

“Come on ladies,” Nesta said with a sigh as she rose from her chair, “I’m in need of something stronger than wine.” She winked as she passed you, and the four of you headed downstairs.

Azriel

Never, in his 500+ years of life, had Azriel thought a human would be the death of him, but the way his body reacted when he saw Y/N completely changed that notion. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, all there was, all he could see, was Y/N.

He knew his family was talking, that his shadows were whispering, that he’d been staring for far longer than appropriate, but he couldn’t snap out of it. She was stunning. Literally.

Her hair was down in waves, loose and wild and so incredibly soft looking he wanted to reach out and touch it. Her eyes were lined, making the violet hue all the more vibrant, her lips stained and left looking so damn kissable he could hardly contain himself. And her dress, mother, her fucking dress. It accentuated her curves in the most delicious way. He thought his heart stopped when she moved and the slits in her skirt showed off her legs, all the way up to mid thigh. The way it dipped to show off the curve of her breasts, and left her shoulders bare, he wanted to lick from that dip in her dress all the way up to her earlobe, and then he’d-

“Ready to go?” Mor’s face appeared in front of him and he nodded in reply, thankful he was usually quiet enough that no one noticed he’d been lost in his own mind for cauldron knows how long.

Azriel spent the walk to Rita’s mentally steeling himself. He was a damn spymaster, he could handle being around an attractive female for one night. When the group arrived, he settled himself at his usual spot by the bar, putting some much needed distance between him and Y/N.

Y/N

Rita’s was incredible. You were worried when your friends (were they your friends now?) had mentioned going to a bar. You pictured something darker, less inviting, and more uncomfortable. Then when they broke our their nice dresses and jewels you imagined a fancy lounge filled with rich fae sipping expensive whisky, but this, this was perfect.

The whole place was lit up with string lights and paper lanterns. It was crowded, but not enough that you couldn’t freely move around, and the drinks were delicious. People all around you were dancing and laughing and talking as if they were all one big group of friends. By the time you finished your second drink you were ready to follow Mor and Cassian to the dance floor and let loose.

Mor was a whirlwind, dancing and flirting and drinking with everyone in sight. Cassian was surprisingly graceful for his size, stepping through the crowd with ease and swinging a begrudging Nesta around with him.

You took a sip of your drink and reached for Mor. She twirled you around and you caught sight of Rhysand and Azriel leaning against the bar. “The males don’t dance?” You asked her.

Mor laughed and leaned in close. “Well, judging by the look on Rhys’ face, he’s about to snatch up our dear high lady and whisper something provocative that none of us want to be witness to, and Az, well, Az is just as stoic here as he is everywhere else.” You looked back at the males in question, Rhysand was polishing off his drink while keeping his eyesight solely focused on Feyre, you had no doubt Mor was right on that front. Azriel stood with a drink in hand, casually surveying the crowd. You frowned.

“The point of tonight was to let loose though.” You said as you looked back at the blonde.

She laughed, “well if you want to try and get him out here, be my guest, but my bet is he doesn’t move from that spot all night.” She threw back the last of her drink and headed for the bar, leaving you looking in the shadowsinger’s direction.

What you did next was definitely out of character, but you’d spent the whole time since you’d awoken here worrying and you wanted to have fun. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the thrumming beat of the music, or maybe just your determination to forget about all your problems for the evening. Whatever it was, it had you walking across the floor towards Azriel.

He stopped his surveillance of the room and locked eyes with you and for a moment you were frozen in place, stopped by the intensity of having his gaze solely upon you. You shook it off and smiled at him, beckoning him with a finger. He raised an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, spinning in a circle to the music, silently asking him to come dance. He shook his head and you pouted at him, determined not to give up. He sighed and pushed off from the bar, making his way to you.

For a moment you wondered what you were getting yourself into. You looked him over as he walked toward you, he had ditched his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his elbows, wings pulled in tight behind him. He was easily the most beautiful male in the room, and right now, his gaze was focused solely on you. It was… intimidating. But you refused to back down, this was a night for fun, and nothing was going to get you down.

Azriel

He had no clue how long he’d been on the dance floor. As soon as he’d seen Y/N beckoning him over he knew he was done for. The way she looked tonight was… incredible. He’d always found her attractive, but tonight, she was glowing. It wasn’t just the hair and makeup, or the dress (Mother above, that dress made him weak in the knees), but it was the confidence, the way she let herself have fun without restrictions, without worry, it was intoxicating. She was a force all her own, and he wanted nothing more than to get wrapped up in her.

He twirled her around one last time as the song came to a close, and tried not to frown when she pulled away. Azriel was determined to be as gentlemanly as possible, keeping his hands strictly on Y/N’s waist, never straying from what was proper, as much as he’d love to let his hands roam to her back, to feel her skin, and maybe even dip lower, to pull her so close there was barely room to breathe… but no. He was determined to keep things friendly, nothing more.

Y/N polished off her drink and leaned in to tell him she was going to grab another, before heading off to the bar. He could only stand and stare as she walked away. Someone came up behind him, and he immediately knew it was Rhys. The high lord dripped a hand on his shoulder, and Azriel turned to look at him.

“It’s been a long while since I’ve seen you on the dance floor, brother.” Rhys said with a grin. Azriel only shrugged.

“How many drinks have you had? I’ve only seen you dance like that when you’re absolutely smashed!” Cas said, pushing between Azriel and Rhys and slinging an arm around each of them.

Azriel frowned and looked at the drink still in his hand, the glass was half full of amber liquid “this is my first one.” Cas only laughed, clearly wasted, and said something to Rhys, which had both of them laughing, and it struck him just how sober he was.

He glanced toward the bar, eyes immediately finding Y/N, only to see her already watching the three of them, a smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a small smile, she waved in return and his heart sped up.

“What d’ya say Az, shots?” Cas asked. Azriel looked to his brother, his eyes were already glassy and his cheeks were red, he wasn’t sure he needed anything more than water at this point. Azriel winced, glanced back at the bar, and his face fell. Y/N was still there, perched on a stool, but there next to her was a blonde male, leaning in a bit too close. Azriel was about to head over there and rip the male from his seat, when he saw Y/N tip her head back and laugh at whatever the male had said. And that was all it took for him to realize that no matter how much she danced with him, and laughed with him, and looked up at him with those big violet eyes, she wasn’t his. And she never would be. Cas and Rhys were still arguing next to him about what alcohol to choose for their shots, but he suddenly couldn’t do it. He had to get out of there. He mumbled an excuse to his brothers and pushed his way out of the bar, refusing to look back at Y/N. As soon as his feet hit the street outside he shot into the air, wanting nothing more than to hear the beat of his wings and feel the sting of the wind on his face.

Taglist:

@strawbwebbie @judig92 @bankerfrog @meritxellao @amdiriel @kristalhi @everyonehatescarmen @reareaikea @nothxney @toothhurtyam @goldentournesol

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

Warnings: 👀👀👀 SMUT.  Oral sex (male receiving), cockwarming, sexual acts in public, the use of blasters and other canon-typical weaponry

A/N: Twas the night before Mando season 2, and all through the house—NO IM JUST KIDDING SDKSFKSVS anyways I am so sorry for not being here for basically all of last month but I could not miss this incredibly momentous occasion for anything. Merry season 2 my lovely baby yoditos

***

“Well,” a modulated voice gruffs expectantly from behind you, clearly tired of waiting.  “Turn around, let me see.”

“No.  I look ridiculous,” you sulk from the corner of the hull, refusing to do as he says.  You thought this was stupid from the very beginning and openly told him so, but you’re also a complete pushover for him with just enough backbone to be frustrated when you inevitably give in.  “And don’t you ‘sweet girl’ me, it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Sweet girl,” Din’s deep voice lulls through the helmet, raspy and soft.

Fucking fine, if he’s gonna twist your arm about it.  You spin around with a deep frown and a chrome visor stares back at you as you waddle forwards, and you don’t even need to look at the kid cradled in his forearm to know he’s smiling toothily as you clunk and rattle.  Once you’re standing directly in front of them both, you blow the stray hair out of your eyes and plant your hands on your hips, just waiting for the inevitable response.

Only, you don’t get practically any response at all from him.  He stays perfectly still and says absolutely nothing, and though the baby’s mouth falls open with happiness and he reaches for you, he doesn’t make a sound either.

“I told you,” you grumble after a few moments of pained silence.  “I look ridiculous.”

Still, nothing.  You purse your lips, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, and eventually your suspicion grows and festers until it finally bursts forth.  Oh for the love of Maker—

“I know you’re laughing under there,” you accuse with a growl.  He doesn’t move a single muscle but you don’t buy it, not for a single fucking second.

Then suddenly the helmet glances away from you and stares purposefully at the wall of the hull as the kid starts giggling, and you knew it.  You fucking knew he was laughing.

“You look great,” comes tightly through the modulator after a moment, and you pull your lip up into a snarl, vindicated in your findings but not happy about it.

“Is that how this is supposed to protect me?”  You wave your arms, hearing them squeak and clank like you’re a droid that hasn’t been maintenanced in centuries.  The rough metal jerks up and smacks your chin with the shoulder movement and you grimace.  “Make the bad guys laugh themselves to death?”

“It's bad,” Din finally turns back to you and admits with zero shame, and your cheeks burn at how stupid you must look right now.  “Way too big.”

“Too big?”  You blink at him.  “That’s your criticism?”

When he presented it to you, your first impression was some sort of brown paint—but no.  It’s fucking… rust.  It’s damaged and scraped up and it looks like it’s been through the ringer and back, and not in a way that gives it character.  There’s almost a literal hole in the fucking chestpiece and it’s dented so much that it actually creates more than enough space for your breasts, what the fuck happened—?

“You’re telling me you went from this—”  You ask pointedly, knocking your knuckles against the ill-fitting piece of metal and feeling it wobble against your chest, “—to that—” you tap the pristine, gleaming armor strapped to his body that easily costs more than probably quadruple your entire life, “—without any go-betweens?  It’s missing one of the shoulders, Din.”

He ignores you, flipping the chestpiece over your head with his free hand and letting the metallic clatter of it meeting the floor behind you ring out through the hull.  “I’d hoped at least something would fit,” comes his filtered sigh.  “This planet isn’t nice.”

That sobers you up a bit, and you feel your heart thump painfully.  “Are we on Corellia?”  You ask without thinking.

“No,” he tells you immediately, quelling your panic while pulling off your one singular pauldron.  “Tatooine.”

You’ve never heard of it, but from the grave undertone of his voice, you know the drill.  Different setting, same kind of people.  Smugglers, rogues, criminals—the type he’s used to being around and knows exactly what to expect out of them.  You always feel safe when he’s with you, but when he leaves?

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t really have anything else.  It’s quiet for a little bit, but then he continues on before you can come up with something to fill the sudden uncertainty on your end.

“I know someone here,” Din murmurs, bending his knees and sinking down to start undoing and pulling the shoddy thigh braces off your legs.  “Someone… nice.  It’ll be safe as long as nobody sees me leaving or coming back, and the kid would be happy to see her.”

Your eyebrows pull inwards, something… unfamiliar settling inside you.  Din doesn’t have friends, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t really like anyone that he knows well enough to introduce you to.  Even when he’s lowered himself in front of you and is technically undressing you, you feel a spark of… no, not jealousy, that’s crazy.  But for real, who is he talking about?

“Why can’t me and the baby just lay low somewhere remote like normal?”  You ask instead, but he shakes his head.

“No such thing,” he grunts, pulling off the other thigh brace.  “Tuskans or Jawas will find you even in the middle of the Dune Sea.”

“I like Jawas,” you blurt, having had many positive experiences trading with the little creatures on Arvala-7, but his helmet immediately tilts up to pin you in place and you shut up, feeling the tangible unamusement radiating from the thin blade of the visor even when the kid starts giggling again.  “I mean I… don’t like Jawas?”

Din sighs and rises back up to his full height, finally handing the baby over to you now that you’re not weighed down by that ridiculous getup anymore.  “You can either stay with her while I get the quarry or run the risk of pirates finding you drifting above the atmosphere,” he reasons bluntly, not mincing words.  “But it’s not a good idea to be stuck on the surface without protection, someone will find you.”

You bite your lip, hugging the kid closer to your chest for a second.  “Okay, that’s fine,” you murmur quietly after a moment.  “We can stay with your… friend.”  

You clear your throat and move to let him pass by to get to the cockpit, except Din doesn’t take a single step.  You blink up at him and after what feels like an eternity of no response, the helmet slowly tilts sideways at you and… oops.

Was that not subtle?  You didn’t know what to call her, genuinely, that’s why you hesitated.  You didn’t want to use the word acquaintance, it felt too detached for the fact that he said the kid would be happy to see her again.  That’s what’s called a friend, right?  

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

Thankfully, you end up getting away with it.  After a few painful seconds of looking at every single thing in the hull besides him and humming a song you make up on the spot, Din slowly walks past and disappears up into the cockpit.  You take a deep breath and gently rub the baby’s ears between your fingers as the Crest powers up with a ferocious rumble beneath your feet.

***

It’s bright.  Fuck, it’s so bright here.  You hold the kid to your chest with one hand and shield your eyes with the other as the ramp slowly descends, dust immediately kicking up around it.  Din’s palm is resting against your lower back and his thumb gently brushes back and forth, but your heart decides to drop the very moment his hand does, and as soon as the ramp clanks against the landing platform, he’s striding down into the blazing hot desert sun without you.

Something in your chest squeezes and whispers to you that he probably doesn’t want to touch you when he’s about to see an old friend again, so you wait a few seconds of space before descending down the ramp behind him, not really knowing how you feel right now.  But you’ve barely taken a single step to follow when a woman’s voice screeches out from across a vast distance.  “Oh no, no no no—don’t you even think about it!”

Din slows to a halt at the end of the ramp and gives whoever it is a small nod, nothing beyond it, and if you weren’t purposefully looking at him for cues right now, you’d probably miss the greeting entirely.  You stand on your tippy-toes from behind his cape as a fiery little middle-aged lady in a mechanic’s jumpsuit marches up to him with an attitude that more than makes up for the height difference.

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” she pokes his chestplate brazenly with one hand and props the other on her hip, clearly not excited to see him.  “Not after the ruckus you caused last time, no sir, not on my watch.”

“That won’t happen again,” he gruffs shortly, not providing a single thing beyond it, and you blink.  What… what happened last time?

“It sure won’t!”  The strange woman agrees shrilly, crossing her arms and widening her eyes until she looks a bit like she’s been out in the suns too long.  “I’m still recovering, Mando!”

“I compensated you,” he reminds her, a quiet edge of frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

She suddenly narrows her expression at him, going from manic desert lady to sharp and discerning skeptic within a split second.  “How much do you think my life is worth?”

Din takes forever to respond, seeming to either be choosing his words very carefully or grinding his teeth under the beskar in frustration.  Probably both.  “I brought my ki—”

“You bring trouble!”  She bursts out, stomping her foot on the dusty landing platform and holding her ground.  “I don’t care how cute your little one is, go park your ship on some other poor soul’s hangar bay!”

He doesn’t say anything back, staying completely silent while you stand there awkwardly and wait for his response, and it’s almost like you… forgot.  How quiet Din can be, how unnervingly little he can choose to offer to conversations until he deems the information absolutely necessary to provide.  He allows you to forget that reserved nature of his.  He talks to you.  He never used to at the beginning, but somewhere along the way it just became increasingly common to hear his voice, both with a high-pass filter and blissfully without.  Now though, there’s just too long of a weirdly tense pause in the reunion for you to handle without doing something about it.

So you step out from behind him with the child in your arms, giving her an apologetic smile with as much friendliness as you can possibly put into an expression.

“Hello,” you greet her gently, musically, lifting the baby’s hand to give her a companionable three-fingered wave from the both of you while he coos.  “I promise I’m not trouble, but he did bring me along this time.”

Din and the woman simultaneously turn to look at you; her like you’re just as strange and jarring of a sight to see on this planet as the tiny unnamed boy in your arms and him like your voice by itself is enough to loosen his shoulders.  Though neither one of them ultimately respond to you, you can tell by the way his fists unclench that you’ve at least helped him relax, even if the frizzy-haired lazy otherwise ignores your introduction entirely.

“Now just what in Maker’s name are you doing with a poor little stowaway like that?”  She faces him and pokes his armor again.  “You runnin’ a charity out of that battered piece of junk you call a ship?”

“Three hundred credits to let them stay with you for a week,” he turns back to tell her, cutting directly to the chase.  Alright, so you don’t really understand their relationship at all at this point.  He said she was nice?  And yet he’s already bribing her that handsomely?

“Five hundred,” she immediately shoots back, and your heart sinks.  Fuck, there’s no way.  There’s no way he would spend that much, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.

But… he doesn’t respond.  Which you now remember with a jolt of surprise, means confirmation.  Not wasting words agreeing, he’d say something back to her if he had an issue.  Maker, five hundred credits.  You’re starting to wonder if he’s really able to make any money at all doing this, or if the job is just… fitting for him, so he continues to do it.  He’s spending more and more credits on you every single time you turn around, and while you don’t feel great about it, you know Din well enough to know he’s stable and independent enough to make the decisions he wants to make.

So you just stand there and hold the baby to your chest, unsure of your place, while Din eventually turns around to face you.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you almost find yourself wanting to… do soft things with him that you know you shouldn’t while other people are around.  Granted, he’s never told you not to, but the last thing you want to do is undermine his reputation by unintentionally revealing his gentler side.  You want to give him a hug and maybe hand him the baby to say goodbye, but you don’t know if that’s how he wants to present himself to company right now.  Unfortunately, that ends up translating into you just looking at him and awkwardly waiting to see what he does.  Your feelings won’t be hurt if he just takes off without another word now that you know that that’s his intent—you promise, they weren’t hurt the first fifty or so times he’s done it.  You understand him, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to—

But then he leans in and lowers his voice until only you can hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he tells you, and you feel warmth creep into your chest.

You understand him.  Which is why you feel like you could almost burst with how much he didn’t have to say that but chose to do so anyway.  You already have a solid time frame—a week—which is more information than you usually get, and it’s such a small thing.  It’s insane; if you made a list, you’d have 1) talking to you, 2) knowing his first name, and 3) seeing a glimpse of his forehead as your top reasons why he might care just as much about you as you care for him.  That’s insane.

He takes a second to reach a glove out and rub the baby’s ear as he makes his adorable little baby noises up at him, before the helmet tilts back up just slightly to look at you.  

“Be safe,” he waits for you to whisper back.

And you think now is finally the time to go, right?  Except he waits just a few precious seconds more, just holding there, silently.  Maker, you don’t want to miss him, why is he doing this to you?  You’re trying to play it cool, see-you-later’s have been commonplace between you for nearing a full year now, so why does it feel like now is the first time he truly doesn’t want to go?

You hold the kid with one hand and start to reach for him the split second he turns to walk away, and you quickly drop it as the dry wind snaps through his cape.  He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Still, you watch him disappear, until eventually you’re reminded of your host’s presence with the tap of a wrench against your shoulder.

“Hope you know your way around a hyperdrive,” the woman says with a smirk.  Maker, Din didn’t even give you her name, you’re going to have to ask.  “Gotta repair at least two of ‘em by sundown.”

You catch the hefty tool with your free hand and turn to her.  “Pre-Imperial or post?  Never done a restoration, but I’m a quick learner.”

She blinks at you like that was probably the last thing she expected you to say, but you give her the same friendly smile from before and look towards the entrance of the hangar for the ships needing maintenance.

***

So Peli is… a character.

She’s quick and entertaining and whip-smart, but you worry that if she had a whip, she might actually use it.  She’s nice—she is, but she damn near works you to the bone once you prove yourself capable.  You don’t think she expected the extent of your practical knowledge of mechanics, she went into it assuming you were going to be useless and did a hard U-turn that very first night.  You both worked together to fix two malfunctioning hyperdrives by sundown, just like she told you she needed, but then she looked vaguely surprised and nobody showed to pick up until two days later.

The second day is more hectic, and the third day is worse.  You cradle the kid on your hip while you work one-handed, smudged grease all over your forehead and sweat sticking your hair to your neck.  Using Peli’s sonic shower never leaves you feeling clean no matter how many times a day you find yourself wanting to wash the dust and grime from your body, the same way yours used to back on Arvala-7, and you immediately get why her dark hair seems so frizzy and dry whenever you step out of the stall and catch sight of the similar rat’s nest on your head in the small mirror.  Hypersonic waves dry it out more than the blazing hot suns on this planet—you look the same exact way you’ve looked for decades and while you don’t mind hard work, you can’t stand the complete lack of water on this forsaken rock.

Din was right, though.  She is nice, but in a way that she never wants anybody else to find out about.  She cooks you food every night but expects you to clean the whole kitchen after, she lets you have free reign over the caf maker as long as you remember to make enough for her, and she allows you and the kid to pass out on the beat-up sofa in one of the secluded back rooms for the time being.  On more than one occasion, when she assigns you chores that require two hands and a steady focus to complete, you overhear her babytalk behind the control panel as she bounces the kid in one arm and plays with his ears.  It fills your chest with a quiet, subtle kind of warmth, and you understand why Din trusts her with him.

At least you stay busy—which, understatement.  She works you so hard that eventually she starts handing you tasks that don’t really seem… pressing.  Replacing the spherical joints on her three pit droids, hand-scrubbing the grime off the pots and pans she uses to cook the same two meals everyday, polishing the dusty windows overlooking the landing platform even though they’re caked over with dirt not even an hour later.  You realize soon enough that she doesn’t have nearly the workload here as she claims, periodically catching her playing cards with the droids while you’re busting your ass doing chores once all the real work has clearly been accomplished, but you’re not upset.  You like being busy, it’s how you’ve lived most of your life.  However, at some point, you actually end up running out of things to do.  After that, it’s like she has to actively look for tasks she still needs completed.

One morning you find her in the parked Crest, ripping open the guidance systems paneling and talking to herself.  You sip your caf and watch silently from the landing bay, hair pulled up in a messy bun and the baby on your hip as the suns rise on your shoulders and she mutters, whole sheets of metal being tossed out from the insides of the Razor Crest.

You've also learned she responds incredibly well to the prospect of credits, so you don’t spend too much time wondering what her goal is—find something in the ship for you to fix and then charge Mando extra for the materials whenever he comes back.

Hilarious though, as if there’s anything in your ship that actually needs fixing.

You spin around with a sigh and walk back into the hangar, knowing today will probably be the first slow day in awhile.

***

A few hours later, you’re invited to play a game of Sabacc for the first time in your life.

There are so many rules—so many suits and names to keep track of, so many values to memorize, only to be forced to choose one card after every round to keep just in case the rest of them happen to shuffle at random, which occurs at least once or twice every game.  There’s too much luck involved to figure out any sort of strategy; you feel like sometimes you’re hopelessly lost and end up winning anyways or you wager nearly your entire stack of bolts on a perfect hand and then you lose the entire thing regardless.

It’s an unpredictable nightmare.  But it’s something to do, and you’ve learned that playing just as stupidly as you bet allows you to easily stay in the game.  The baby sits in your lap and plays with one of your rusty metal gambling pieces while your leg bounces, and Peli grumbles under her breath once it appears you get ahead of her in winnings.

“Beginner’s luck,” she tells her favorite pit droid quietly, who focuses its singular eye at you in a way that somehow feels unfriendly and nods on a brand new swivel, courtesy of yours truly.

You don’t argue, because there’s no point.  The whole fucking thing is luck, but there’s no point.  You know enough about this game to know that you might give something away if you speak, so you keep your mouth shut and let her fill the void.  You know how to stay silent, you’ve learned from the best.  Wordlessly drawing a card from the deck and tucking it in between two others of the same value, you decide to trade one of your other cards at complete random and hope it all just works out.

“Ship looks like it’s brand spankin’ new on the inside,” Peli mutters into her mug out of nowhere, and you pause for a moment, before silently nodding at the offhanded comment and trying not to show how pleased you are by it.  “Was falling apart the last time I saw it.”

You keep bouncing the kid on your knee and fan out the cards in front of you, hoping his big black eyes aren’t reflective enough to reveal your hand.  “I have a lot of free time.”

“I can tell,” she acknowledges, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair.  Peli sets the mug down and sighs.  “You’re a good mechanic.  I’d offer you a job here, but something tells me you wouldn’t even consider it.”

Now, you do smile.  But it’s a hidden one.  A fond one.  One you find impossible to fight when you’re reminded of him.  You miss him and ache for him and all those collectively angsty things, yes—but mostly you’re just… able to find a bone-deep solace in even thinking about him.  Your heart tightens, but it’s far less constricting than it is a comfort, a firm embrace.  It surrounds you in its safety; Din’s mere existence is your protection, wrapping around you the same way the beskar protects him.  Nothing can touch you.  You’re safe, from all the things you used to fear and all the new things you’ve learned to fear.

No, you’d never consider it.  This planet is too much like Arvala-7, just slightly more populated and dangerous.  You love the baby.  You love him.  You’d never consider it.

“Don’t you get bored?”  She asks you with a raised eyebrow, and your smile admittedly drops the slightest bit.  “Just waiting around for him to come back?”

You don’t have to think about your answer.  Of course you do.  If you’re being honest, it does feel a bit like your life is split between worlds—one with him, and one without.  Whenever he’s not here, you’re thinking about how much you want him to come back, and whenever he is here, you’re thinking about how much you don’t want him to go.  You’ve never experienced anything like that before.  There were a few local farmers scattered far across the arid landscape of the place you used to call home, and three of your neighbors all had kids around your age.  So you experimented when you were younger, since you never had much else to do in your spare time, but you never loved any of them.  You’d always go back home and continue to do chores, continue to look up at the sky and wonder what you were missing.

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

But what you don’t tell her is that in exchange, you get to see the galaxy.  You get to have experiences you’ve only dreamed about, take care of the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen and become part of a family.  You don’t know of anything you could want more.  Adventure, companionship, pleasure, and fulfillment.  Sure, you get restless, and sure, you don’t necessarily feel good about the fact that Din seems to be your driving force even when he’s away, but you know independence.  You know what it means to live for yourself.  You’ve done it long enough that you’ll never forget how to, you’ve experienced it more than enough to know you’re happy about throwing yourself off the cliff and falling into something different.  As much as it’s new and terrifying, it’s better.  Now you have other people to live for, too.  

You marvel at the change—not just from a year ago, but from a handful of months ago.  He used to terrify you.  You used to keep your mouth purposefully shut around him because you were scared of overstaying your welcome and being dropped off somewhere equally as remote as the place you grew up.  Never could you have imagined that the fiercest guardian the galaxy has ever seen would decide you’re also worth protecting.

No, you figure, you just need to… find something in addition.  Something else to also commit to, give yourself something to do.  You can practice the new self-defense maneuvers he taught you, that’s a good idea.  But maybe you can also…

You eventually decide to prompt Peli in a change in conversation.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What do you want now?”  She takes another sip of her caf as if you’ve been bothering her about this all day long, and… well, it’s times like these that you wish you had a helmet, too, if only so you could roll your eyes.

“I’ve got a few pieces of rusted metal in the Crest,” you eventually tell her, careful with your phrasing and not sure how much you want to reveal.  “They’re in bad shape, but I want to keep them.  Could I use some of your tools here to hammer out some of the dents, dissolve whatever crud is on the surface?  I saw you have a forge back there that’s barely been used, just need the metal hot enough to be pliable without sacrificing its integrity.”

She furrows her eyebrows at you.  “But I still need your help with…”

You wait, but she’s got nothing and you both know it.  Still, you keep a pointed silence and wait for it, wondering if this’ll actually work.  This is what Din does, right?  Just refuse to say anything and make the other person crumble under the crushing quiet?  Miraculously, it proves to be successful—you watch her flounder for a response, her will wavering the longer you sit there and stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Peli finally acquiesces, and you grin.  “But only if you win this round.  What d’you got?”

You set down your cards to reveal your hand.  A perfect twenty-three if you’ve been counting right, unbeatable unless she or any of the droids managed to get the same, and you know it didn’t happen as soon as she takes a few seconds for mental math and then scoffs.

“Beginner’s luck,” you tell her kindly, pushing all your winnings back over to her side of the table with one hand and scooping the kid up with the other, before turning around and heading towards the Crest in search of Din’s old armor.

***

It’s late afternoon on day five and you’re on your back on a creeper seat, sweat dripping down your neck as you reach up to fiddle with the engine of a T-16, a Skyhopper similar to one you built yourself on Arvala-7.  They're not space-faring vehicles, they’re only capable of reaching the upper troposphere, but owning one allowed you to develop solid flight skills without ever truly being able to leave.  Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever despised a ship more.

You know you’ve got engine grease all over and you feel like you’re boiling in your own sweat, but you’re almost done.  After this, you’ll be able to go back to working on your side project.

As soon as you’d been granted Peli’s direct permission to do so, you mixed the chemicals necessary to eat away at everything besides the basic structure underneath, and then spent all day yesterday manipulating the metal to better fit someone your size and shape.  You slaved over the wickedly hot forge and developed a whole new muscle in your arm from hammering and reheating, hammering and reheating.  You had to repair the way the chestpiece was tapered into a concave point by folding the thin metal back in on itself multiple times, strengthening it without flattening it back into its original shape too much, and then you ended up melting down some of the extra material from the needlessly large shoulder and thigh pieces to fill in the gaps.

Granted, you still have a ways to go on replacing the crushed magnetics box that was falling off the chestpiece and filing down the rough scrapes and sharp edges, but you’re now left with almost a full set of armor that’s a uniform dull silver in color and molds way better to your general figure than before.  You’re not a blacksmith or armorer by any stretch of the imagination, but you’re good with your hands and did what you could in the time allotted.  It looks better than you ever thought it would, and without access to Peli’s enormous collection of tools and machinery, you know it would’ve been better off in the trash.

Still, you have to finish this engine first before you can rip apart the control unit wiring on the armor to see how the whole set fits together and what else needs to be repaired.  You’ve been working on it for a few hours before you hear the door to the hangar open.  Yet, when you don’t immediately hear Peli’s voice calling out to you, or anyone else’s voice for that matter, your heart thuds in your chest with sudden excitement.

“You’re back early,” you tell the engine suspended over your head, knowing he must’ve already thrown the quarry into the Crest parked outside before coming to see you.  Right on time, footsteps approach and then a boot carefully catches the flat platform between your legs, slowly rolling your seat out from under the ship until the rest of the sunlit hangar is revealed to you.

You know you must look a hot mess right now.  Your hair is a disaster and there’s not a clean spot to be found on your body—sweat glistens and pools along every curve you have and you’re probably drenching the spare jumpsuit Peli let you borrow, but Maker, there he is.  Every time you see him is like the first time all over again, except this time the Mandalorian is looming like a giant over you, the helmet tilted down and silently taking you in.

Instead of settling you, his daunting presence gets you hotter than dual suns in the sky ever could.  Fuck, he hasn’t said a word to greet you, and yet you’re already wondering if you can entice him to shove you back under here and join you.

You slowly push yourself upright and he steps back just enough to allow it, but not an inch more than that.  You have to crane your neck up to keep looking at him, and he stands close enough over you that you wouldn’t have to reach far at all if you wanted to touch him.

And it’s crazy to think that… you absolutely could touch him, if you wanted.  He radiates danger, he hunts and tracks for his continued survival, he’s probably got fresh blood staining the dark fabric of his cape and he’s so fucking intimidating—and if you wanted to, you could touch him.  

Maybe you can partially blame your sore muscles as to why you immediately drop your head back down, but mostly you just want to stare at a part of his body that happens to align perfectly at eye level.  And fuck, nothing stops you from looking.  He doesn’t help you up, but he also doesn’t move so you can haul yourself to your feet, either.  He just holds perfectly still with his body standing tall over yours, content to stay exactly like this while your hand slowly reaches out to wrap around one of his ankles.

He’s so warm, his muscles flex strong under your palm as you let it drift upwards, biting your lip as you flick your gaze back up to the chrome visor and then down again to the apex of his thighs.  Your other hand comes up to scale the beskar strapped to his leg and you roll yourself forward slightly, wondering if he’d let you…

The black fabric stretching over his crotch just barely touches your fingertips before his hand is suddenly whipping out and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You gasp and jerk your head up to look at him, somehow equally hoping that you’re both in trouble and not in it at the same time.  Din’s abruptly chest raises with a large, labored inhale, as if he wasn’t breathing at all that entire time, as if he just now remembered the setting, the fact that he’s not alone on the Crest with you right now.  Peli and the kid have to be somewhere in the hangar, you know that, but…

“We’re leaving tonight,” he breathes out through the modulator, and you have absolutely no fucking problem with that at all.  “But… shit, but…”

“But…?”  You prompt, wanting nothing more than to let your hands reach back up to his pants again, but you settle for slowly dragging one palm up his forearm as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Fuck, I wanted to take you somewhere first,” he groans like your feather-soft touch is actually hurting him, his hands suddenly dropping yours and pushing you away to clench into fists at his sides.  “Maker—why do you always f-fucking do this to me…”

You raise an eyebrow at him this time, the curiosity starting to mix with the heat simmering down low, the kind that you'd feel even on a frozen wasteland of a planet as long as you were with him.  All at once, you decide to channel him and his trademarked silence, enthralled by the incredibly slim chance that it will work equally as well on its creator.

“…Distract me,” he finally growls out an answer to the question you never asked him, sounding frustrated with you for reasons you still haven’t figured out, and your mouth is drier than the desert outside.  Oh stars, you feel… fucking powerful.  “From everything,” he goes on, talking honestly and openly, more words given to you in thirty seconds than he’s probably offered to anyone all week long.  “Fuck, I feel like I can barely do fucking anything anymore, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Your heart slams in your chest, wondering if he possibly feels the exact same way about you as you feel about him.  Missing you whenever he’s gone, dreading the moment he needs to leave again whenever he’s with you.  The thought alone is enough to set off fireworks through your veins, pumping hope and excitement from your fingers to your toes.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, biting your lip in a way that doesn’t look or feel sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Din grunts, before reaching out and hauling you to your feet, and even if there wasn’t a flat seat under you with wheels, it’d still be awkward and uncoordinated as fuck.  “Shit.  I… I need to clean up.  Grab your things, go tell…”

Din trails off after a second, suddenly sounding at a complete loss.  You catch your footing and stare at him as he falters.  “Uh.  Go tell…”  He gestures with a sense of finality to the control room, as if he’s actually successfully communicating with you by doing so.  “Her.  That we’re leaving tonight.”

“What?”  You ask him, thoroughly fucking confused.  “What are you saying right now?”

“The woman,” he clarifies, clearing his throat.  “The mechanic, with the… droids.  Tell her I’ll pay her before we leave, but we’re g—”

“Peli?”  You blurt, completely flabbergasted at this point.  “Did you forget her name, Mando?”

“I…” he shakes his head slightly at you, like you should already know him better than that.  “Never asked.”

“But you—?”  You blink at him.  “But you said she was your friend?”

“You said she was my friend,” he immediately points out, with—oh Maker, just biting accuracy.  It wasn’t necessarily a jab or anything, but you still feel dizzy with how fucking spot on he is about it.  Yikes, you absolutely did say that.  You forgot.

“Oh…” you mumble, at a stunning loss for a response.  “Ha.  Oh.  Yeah, huh.”

There’s too many beats of awkward silence after that, probably because he’s just so blown away by your way with words that he’s just attempting to analyze the wisdom.  Stars, you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of him, aren’t you?

“Were you jealous?”  He suddenly asks, and you jerk upright, your heart kicking up to a gallop in your chest at the question.

“I’ll go tell Peli we’re leaving soon,” you quickly agree and go to scurry away in abrupt panic, but he catches your wrist and hauls you back before you can get far.  You run into him with a gasp and immediately start to repeat your explanation for why you very suddenly need to depart, but the tips of Din’s fingers catch your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Hey,” he cuts your rambling short with a hushed murmur and the pad of his thumb brushes down your jaw.  “Tell me the truth.”

You don’t have an answer that won’t be incriminating, and you don’t think you can get the delivery right on a lie, not to him and especially not when he’s got you so cornered.  So you just keep completely silent and look up at him like a scolded child would.  Innocent, wide-eyed and scared shitless about the unknown consequences of your actions.

His helmet slowly tilts as he studies you, watching you look up at him for help.  His fingers gradually spread out across your jaw, flattening under the curve of your throat but so gentle, so careful that you’re almost worried he actually is mad.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately offer before he can say anything, your eyebrows pulling up in the middle.  “I’m so sorry, it’s just—I just…”

His thumb carefully stretches up to brush your bottom lip, and you…  Mind blank, no thoughts.  Stars, you’ve got fucking nothing.

“I’ve got nothing,” you admit, giving up before you can even try.  “There’s no reason.  I was jealous.  It’s stupid and I wasn’t going to say anything because I know it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t feel possessive over you but I do, and it’s stupid.  I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I know you, and I’m really sorry if that makes you feel weird, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have—”

Your chin lifts slightly with the gentlest movement of his hand and the subtle pressure is enough to cut your mindless oversharing off.  Din’s voice lowers until it’s throaty and quiet.

“See that wall?”  He asks, keeping the visor pinned to you while carefully turning his hand to the right, and your whole head easily follows the movement as he guides it.  You have to blink your eyes into focus a few times, but then you immediately see what he’s talking about.  It’s a partition separating the welding room from the rest of the hangar.  He waits until you nod in the cradle of his palm, before leaning in and murmuring to you.  “If we were alone, I’d take you around behind it and show you exactly how that makes me feel.”

You pull back from him with a startled gasp just as a voice calls out from the entrance of the hangar.  “Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Din slowly drops his arms and stares at you for just long enough to make you seriously worry that he’s going to say fuck it all and do it anyways, before finally turning around and greeting Peli with another silent nod.

She plants one hand on her hip once she’s standing right in front of him, cradling the kid on with her other arm, and you have to take a second to collect yourself now that you’re not at the direct center of his attention anymore.  “Sure did take you long enough, didn’t it?”

“I’m two days early,” he grunts in his immediate defense, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving soon I hope,” she drawls while handing the baby over to him, who makes an adorable little happy squeak at seeing his dad again.  “You owe me five hundred credits.”

“It was five hundred for the full week,” he reminds her, and… he has a point.  Though it was never part of the agreement, you wonder if she’ll be willing to accept less compensation for having the burden of your company be lifted early.

“Five days count as a full week, far as I’m concerned,” she shoots back, and your heart suddenly sinks when Din’s shoulders tighten and he doesn’t respond.

“Peli…” you sigh from behind him before you even realize you’ve spoken aloud.

Your host quickly sidesteps your bodyguard to eye you dubiously, and at the same time, you also jolt and wonder what your goal is here exactly.  You’re ultimately just attempting to diffuse any tension sparking between them, you figure, knowing you’re probably the best mediator here.  She looks at you up and down for a long time, hard and judging, before the baby babbles something wordlessly and she sighs.

“I suppose we can just call it even,” she finally huffs, turning back to him.  “You’re lucky your girlfriend earned her keep, Mando.”

And then your jaw drops.  Holy shit, is she serious?  You assumed Peli valued credits above almost anything else, you never expected her to just… turn down the entire offer like that, so willingly.  Clearly Din didn’t either, because you both just stand there for a moment in front of her in a baffled silence.

Also… girlfriend?

Is that what you are to him?  Admittedly you haven’t talked to him about what to call your relationship, but then again, you’re a practical person and you never really saw a specific need to do so.  You care about him, he cares about you—what else is important?  You don’t need a title to recognize your value to him, and for some odd reason, calling yourself his “girlfriend” just feels like you’re a teenager again.  If you were actually looking for a different word to use instead, you wouldn’t be able to find it, but you know that one just feels… not enough.  Not old enough, not encompassing enough, not complex enough.  It’s an elementary school version of what this is.  And to refer to someone like Din as your boyfriend?  Maker, just saying it aloud would probably make his eye twitch.

“Uh.”  He stands there awkwardly, and you’re so blown away by both the sentiment and specific verbiage she used that you’re practically useless at this point.  Shit, what’s beyond girlfriend, you wonder?  Lover?  No, not good enough.  Partner?  No.  No, not wife, definitely fucking not—  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peli waves him away and spins around to leave, but not before throwing one final thing over her shoulder.  “That ain’t an open invitation to come back, by the way.”

All of a sudden, you just can’t stop yourself from breaking out into a wide grin, tucking your chin in hopes that she won’t see it with her back turned and decide to pounce on the display of weakness.  The three of you watch her stride out of the room and immediately bark an order at one of her droids to get back to work, who starts looking around in desperate search of something to do, and Din’s palm finds its usual place on your lower back as she disappears.

“What a nice lady,” you offer to him, and he gives you a wordless grumble in response.

***

So it’s a couple hours later and you think the kid might actually have the right idea this time.

You find yourself wishing you had a little hover pod of your own that followed Din around, one you could close the lid on and hide in while blaster fire whistles through the air around you like the baby is currently doing.  You’re trying to listen to instructions—you’re trying, but there’s a lot going on here.  Voices chatting, guns firing, targets being pinged, a lively little band playing in the cantina next door.  

When Din first led you through Mos Eisley and inside this specific adobe hut, if you’re being completely honest, you had hoped for food.  A comparatively large restaurant, perhaps?  Peli didn’t starve you by any stretch of the imagination, but her dinners were the exact same every single night, and you’ve learned to thrive on new things.  While you didn’t necessarily think he was going to take you on a… a date, or anything, you certainly didn’t expect him to take you to a shooting range.

Well.  Now that you think about it, this might actually be a date.

Luckily you’re hidden away in the furthest firing partition from the door, but even without the near-constant barrage of gunfire to your left, the distractions are still plentiful.  The kid actually reached down and pressed the button to close his crib himself as soon as the bright beams of plasma started zooming past and reflecting in his large black eyes, and oh how you wish that were you.  You don’t necessarily feel like you’re in danger or anything, but you’ve also never seen so many guns in one place before and you’re worried you’re accidentally going to hurt someone else.

So far Din has taught you the fundamentals for any firearm—always keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire, never point at anything unless you’re a hundred percent willing to shoot it, yada yada yada—and also the safety fundamentals for blasters specifically.  So, making sure there’s no leaks in the gas cylinder when you first load it, never letting a strong magnet get near the power pack, checking the surface of your target for deflection curves if you want to prevent a ricochet, or maybe in his case, inspire one.  He’s taught you your stance, he’s taught you how to read your sights, now all that’s left is just to… shoot.

Your arms raise up in front of you and the metal feels too heavy and awkward in your hands, and you have to hold the handle in your left and creep your right index finger all the up the side of the barrel until you feel the indented safety switch.  It clicks and you reset your grip to slowly ease your finger onto the trigger, staring down the sight, right at the bullseye.  Din is standing directly behind you next to the kid’s tightly closed hovering pod, arms crossed and just waiting for you to pull it.

Come on beginner’s luck, come on beginner’s luck—

You fire, and… well.  You don’t think you’ve ever seen a shot miss its target that spectacularly in your entire life.  You’re almost surprised the beam of plasma didn’t somehow ricochet back into the booth you’re both standing in, that’s how spectacularly you missed.

“Try again.”

There’s no amusement in his voice, nothing mocking about it.  Pure monotone under the helmet, as if he was just naturally expecting that to happen.  

No, you think in frustration.  You want to surprise him again, impress him with how quickly you can pick things up, turn him on like last time.  You just fucking know that would get to him—seeing you easily hit the target dead center with his own blaster, you know that would get to him.

You adjust your aim and fire a few more times.  Miss, miss, wild miss, miss.  Fuck, so many distractions, plasma flying in the corner of your vision and an increasingly heavy gaze from behind you.  Another miss, a miss, yeesh that’s a miss—

Alright, so you're just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“I think it’s broken,” you shrug in defeat, taking a second to find the safety switch and toggle it before going to set the gun down on the raised adobe platform separating the line of booths from the targets—but then Din suddenly snatches the blaster from your grip and extends his arm over your shoulder, firing off six rounds in rapid succession so wickedly fast that you jump backwards into his rock solid chest in surprise.  He doesn’t give an inch under the collision and even wraps his forearm tight around your tummy as he hits the bullseye with such deadly accurate precision that even the char marks and the line of smoke left wafting from the target’s center are razor-thin.

“Works just fine,” he grunts, setting the weapon back down again before urging you forward a bit.  “Go ahead, give it another shot.”

But you’re on a remarkable delay, just trying to process his sheer speed, how fluid and seamless the entire fucking motion was.  Fucking Maker, blink and you’d miss the whole thing.  He waited to grab the gun from you until you turned the safety on, but then… then how did he fire it so insanely fucking fast?  That’s like five different things he had to do with one single hand within a split second…?

“I turned the safety on,” you blink down at the blaster, clearly just trying to process.

“Yeah,” he agrees blankly, as if he’s unsure as to what specifically you’re so stuck on right now.

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

He picks it from the shelf gracefully and lightning quick—as if he just can’t help but go that speed around his weapon—and then he twists it on its side, flexing his wrist back until the barrel is pointed upwards and you can clearly see his index finger extend all the way up to the safety switch, flipping it up and down while his middle finger rests over the trigger guard.

“How in the f…?”  You mutter, lifting your hand up next to his and positioning your fingers in the exact same L shape, only the tip of your index finger barely stretches an inch shy of the switch.  “Psh,” you huff, dropping your arm back down again.  “Design flaw.”

“For you,” he acknowledges, using the trigger guard to flip it back to its proper position in his hand like fucking spinning it like that is just the easiest and most natural way to handle the deadly weapon.  “This gun was made for me, it’s a feature.  Yours would be smaller and lighter, have the safety towards the back of the chamber instead of along the barrel.”

The words and the casual display of ability cause a rush of stirring excitement to burst forth inside you, suddenly giddy at the very thought.

“Wait,” you draw the word out with a grin, leaning back into him and gently nudging him with your elbow to make sure he knows you’re only mostly joking.  “You gonna buy me a blaster, Mando?  I did earn my keep this week, didn’t I?”

“Have to find one that fits a big enough sight first,” he mutters while setting the gun down on the table, and you scoff at him as his hands come to rest on your hips.  They squeeze and try to guide you forwards once again.  “Prove that you can at least hit the target with mine and we’ll see.”

“You only get to make fun of me if you give me a real answer,” you rule, planting your feet and refusing to budge.

“Okay, but we both know I’ll make fun of you anyways,” he sighs, and you have to dig your heels in and push back into him to keep yourself rooted to the spot.

“You’re not being a very encouraging teacher,” you accuse without trying to hide your grin.  “In fact I feel very discouraged right now and I think that y—”

But then Din suddenly tips his helmet closer to your ear and lowers his voice, cutting you off.  “Did you know that gifting someone a weapon is considered a proposal of marriage on Mandalore?”

Your smile quickly drops and you gasp, wholly startled at the implication and immediately trying to spin around to look at him.  “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“No,” comes his modulated grunt, tightening his hold and keeping you firmly facing forwards.  “Of course not.  Pick up the gun.”

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

You immediately start giggling, painfully aware that this isn’t the time or place for it, but that one actually fucking got you.  Din easily guides and parks your gullible ass in front of the window carved out of dried mud before picking up the blaster himself and forcing you to hold it with your loose hands, grumbling under his breath.

Shit, okay, focus.  Focus, you can do this.  You clear the laughter from your throat and suddenly get deadly serious, staring your target down like it’s personally gone out of its way to ruin your entire life.  The blaster feels cold in your palms but not when Din’s hands wrap warm and tight around the back of yours, letting you hold the gun how it’s most comfortable for you before gently settling his fingers down over yours.  His chestpiece presses tight against your shoulder blades when he guides the gun up and out, and his arms are long enough to extend yours fully even though he’s behind you and still has some bend to his elbows.  He uses his feet to kick your ankles apart until they’re shoulder-width and then you both carefully find the trigger together.

He’s quiet and slow about it and the whole thing is one giant fucking turn-on.  Maker, chill out.  Chill out, he’s teaching you how to shoot.  This is important stuff, there are people around, chill out…

Din takes a moment to aim the barrel and his hold is so fucking steady, so unwavering and strong.  You wonder if it’d be too obvious if you pushed your hips back a little, you might be able to feel his—

“Fire,” Din murmurs next to your ear, and you pull the trigger without a second thought.

The bright red plasma beam launches from the end of the blaster and hits the target dead center.  You gasp, pulling the trigger again, and unsurprisingly, it’s another perfect shot.

He suddenly lets go of your arms and takes a small step back, but the second he removes his body from yours, the rounds start bouncing wildly off the edges of the target.  Your eyebrows furrow and you try to emulate how you think the angle felt before, but you can’t find it anymore and you’re just failing spectacularly.

When you decide to pause for a second, Din steps up close behind you and wraps his arms around you once more.  You can feel the exact moment he’s locked in his aim, and you fire wordlessly as soon as you know it’s going to hit.  Bullseye, right on the nose.

This time, he lifts just his hands away from yours, staying perfectly still otherwise and you swear you don’t move a single fucking muscle in your entire body before pulling the trigger, but it still hits the far corner of the target.

“It’s broken,” you shrug once again, and Din drops his helmet to your shoulder with a sigh.  “This gun was made for you, which means there’s obviously some mod you have installed that reads biometrics and ruins the shot no matter how good it—”

“Not even close, but that’s not a bad idea,” he tells you, watching you click the safety on and set the uncooperative blaster down.  “I can’t figure out what you’re doing wrong.   Are you just distracted?”

Uh, fuck yeah you are.  So much is going on and more than that, he’s here and he’s just… fuck, you know what he meant when he said he felt like he was losing his mind.  He’s your biggest distraction, all the time.  He’s still standing so close to you and the baby is still isolated and tucked away in his hovering sphere, and you take a moment to think about it.  

Yes, it’s… it’s possible that you may learn better by example than anything else.

“Can I watch you do it?”  You ask him, and Din shrugs before reaching around you and quickly grabbing the blaster from its mud shelf.  “Wait—” you tell him while he raises and extends his arm over your shoulder, and then you wiggle sideways as much as possible in the small booth to squeeze around behind him.  He doesn’t say anything as you swap places with him and scoot up behind him, but you can tell by his body language that he’s confused.  You wonder if he liked that position and watching you shoot his gun, even if you’re complete shit at it.

He stands in front of you for a second and you give him an encouraging, “Okay,” to let him know you’re ready, but then the helmet turns back to look at the target like he’s still unsure as to what you want specifically.  You keep your mouth shut and let him figure it out.  You meant what you said—you want to watch him shoot.  You want to watch him where he’s infamous, watch him do what he’s best at and let completely loose in front of you.

As if it finally clicks for him, Din turns to face the target and suddenly throws the blaster into his left hand while reaching down and pushing a button hidden under the hollow platform with his right.  You have to lean around his broad shoulders to watch the target slide backwards on its track easily triple the distance before squeaking and slamming to a stop.  Din stretches his non-dominant hand out and subtly tilts his helmet before firing six times, easily hitting the bullseye with just as much accuracy as before, and you frown when you notice the only shots that have actually hit the target so far have all been dead center.

He sets the gun down and stands there for a second, staring across the range like it’s nothing at all to him and it’s… remarkable.  Not that he’s a wicked shot, you’ve known that the second you laid eyes on his armor all those months ago.  No, it’s just… you would think this is where he’d thrive, if anywhere.  The entire place is full of smugglers, raiders, scavengers, mercenaries—occupations that define themselves by their grit.  They’re talking as much as they’re shooting, conversing in languages you’ve never heard but suspect Din easily understands.  But instead of fitting in, he’s just… there.  He doesn’t look comfortable, but he also doesn’t look uncomfortable, either.  He doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.

None of this is considered a hobby to him, you suddenly realize.  It’s not fun because he’s too good at it.  This is life.  This is going back to school for the most basic fundamentals of a job he’s excelled at for decades—it’s not interesting, he’s gaining absolutely nothing from practicing.

You try to think of the last time you’ve seen him truly in his element.  You think back on all the different settings—he looked out of place on Canto Bight, got into fights on Corellia, hated Coruscant, seemed stressed on Nevarro, and even on Naboo, even in the middle of paradise, he looked unsure if he actually deserved to be there with you.  Now here on Tatooine, where he has real people that he trusts, where he’s surrounded by like-minded individuals shooting his favorite things in the world, it’s like he’s still not able to fully let go.

Is it just you, you wonder?  Does he stand out more just because you’re the one looking?

No, you think.  No.  You have seen him relax.  You’ve seen him laugh before, you’ve seen him be himself with you.  

But… only with you.  A hardened bounty hunter that much prefers the company of a young woman and an infant to literally anyone else in the galaxy.

Fuck.  Why does that turn you on so fucking much?  It’s the display of prowess, the sheer skill he’s developed, how fucking deadly he is—and how you’ve felt him use that trigger finger to trace slow circles around your clit.  The Mandalorian standing with his blaster raised has probably been the last thing too many people have ever seen in their lifetimes, and yet watching from this angle just makes you feel protected, guarded, and… so fucking horny for him.

“Do it again,” you eventually murmur, touching both your palms to his back this time just to feel it.  You want to feel him shoot, you want to feel his muscles move with it.  You want to touch how mechanically he’s able to aim, you want to know if he’s loose or tense when he fires, you just want to… feel it.

Din grabs the gun and as he extends his arms out, you slide your hands up his back to rest under his shoulders.  He’s so broad, he feels so warm and strong, and his trigger releases are so steady that nothing above his wrists move.

Shit, before he’s even finished setting the blaster back down again, you’re already scooting up behind him as close as possible and carefully slithering your arms around his waist, hugging your body tight to his back.  Din stays completely still while your mouth presses against the fabric of his cape and your hands begin to slowly slide down his stomach.

He doesn’t say a damn thing, which makes it even hotter for some reason.  There’s no warning he gives you, no low growl of your name or sweet girl being dragged through the modulator.  He stays completely silent and holds there while blasters continue to fire from stalls to your left, and it gives you the thrill of your lifetime.  Big strong man holding perfectly still for you to touch in the middle of a crowded room.

Your hand slips under his waistband and sink down low until you can trail your fingertips along his cock, hidden from sight beneath the edge of the clay shelf.  The small sound you make at feeling it already firm and at attention for you gets lost in the noise of the shooting range, but you wrap your palm around it and give it a good, slow pull upwards, feeling Din’s back expand with a breath from the sensation.

“Do it again,” you whisper into his shoulder blade, slowly playing with his cock in his pants with one hand while keeping the other wrapped tight around his abdomen.

Din immediately snatches the blaster off the platform and fires it the very moment he takes aim, and you can feel his cock pulse in your palm as he lets off the shots.  Dead center, as always, but he clunks the metal back down with a bit more force this time and then lingers his fingertips at the sloped edge of it for a second, as if he’s considering whether or not he should hold onto it.  

You’re already wet between your legs, but it gets worse the longer he allows you to keep doing this.  His skin is furnace-hot and he throbs for you, and you trail your thumb up to check—oh, Maker, he’s leaking for you, too.  You drag the pad of your thumb over the tip and gently rub the wetness along the curve of his head, before easing back down to give the shaft another slow pull.

A quiet puff of air comes through the vocal filter, but that’s all you audibly get out of him.  Still, it’s more than enough to fill you with a wicked heat and a desperate desire for more.  So you bite your lip and glance around just to double-check that nobody else has wandered over behind you and the kid is still tucked away in his crib, probably passed out in the secluded darkness at this point.  And then you barely take a split-second to consider it before your knees are bending and you’re slowly sinking down the length of his body.

Din is a fucking statue.  He doesn’t do anything to allow your wiggling underneath the raised platform anymore than he widens his stance to prevent it.  Once you’re on your knees in front of him in the dim isolation of your hiding spot though, he takes a single step forward and pins his waist to the hardened clay above your head, and a thrill skitters through you at being completely walled in on all four sides.

You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and begin pulling them down, so tight and achy between your legs that you want to shove your hand down between them already.  You don’t though, not yet, because you need two hands to be extra careful in getting his cock out.  You don’t even want the fabric of his pants to touch it, you want your mouth to be the only sensation he knows here.

At the very last second, you decide to pull the waistband down far enough to let his balls rest outside the confining clothing, getting increasingly hotter at the thought that this isn’t going to be sneaky and dirty, even if you’re in public.  Din’s wide stance and the floor-length cape hide you perfectly from any prying eyes behind his back, so it’s going to be soft and it’s going to be slow and he’s going to be comfortable while you go down on him.

Your mouth is already watering, so you bend down just slightly and lift your chin to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls before anything else.  Honestly—you don’t think he’s expecting you to go there first, because his whole body suddenly jerks at the velvet soft sensation between his legs and you let out a low hum in response.  He can’t reach you down here unless he tries to, so you scoot your knees up a little bit and just decide to go for it.  This way he won’t be able to get it confused, he won’t pull you out from under here halfway through when you suck on his balls before anything else.  This is what you want from him, what’s right here in your mouth.

You switch to the other one and Din twitches with a filtered breath, the skin already tightening up and responding gorgeously under your tongue.  His hand hovers somewhere near the raised platform above your head, fingers curling in his leather gloves and caught right between stopping you and letting you continue.  While he allows it, you ease your way up and make it just tantalizing enough to make him ache without providing any real stimulation, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing plush lips to the flared head.

Din exhales a shakily while you take your time, tasting the precum as his body produces it, just kissing and licking and purposefully refusing to touch him with anything besides your mouth.  Without being able to see the rest of him from this angle, you're left to your own devices—you’re so gentle and soft about the pleasure that you start to separate the man from the throbbing erection you’re currently playing with.  You begin to enjoy yourself without thinking too much about the struggle he must be withstanding right now, you moan softly against his heated skin even though you know you’re being a tease at the worst possible moment, but no matter how you decide to take your time with it, Din continues to allow it.  He endures.  Silent, perfectly still, until you eventually decide to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and flutter your tongue up underneath it.

But then he jumps and your eyes open when a deep, unkind voice from the stall to your left calls out, “Hey, Mando!  Gonna fuckin’ shoot or just stand there, huh?”

You can hear his immediate frustration in the blaster scraping against the shelf over your head, and you moan softly around his cock the second you feel him tense and start firing.  The smooth skin pulses on your tongue and you slide your fingers around the backs of his knees, opening your throat and slowly taking him deeper.  

And, for a man that has repeatedly fired six perfect shots every single time he picks up his gun, he falters after just three this time.

The heat of your mouth must be too overwhelming.  Too fucking good, too detrimental to his focus and composure to even perform the most basic tasks he typically excels at.  Like a seasoned mathematician that suddenly struggles to count to ten, a renowned author that can’t recite their ABC’s—Mando can’t even fire a weapon right now and it’s all because of you.  

He has to keep trying though, he has to make an actual effort now that you both know someone nearby is paying at least some sort of attention to his performance.  The sound of more plasma arcing through the air over your head slowly disappears into the background in a way that it never could while you were the one firing—you’re completely hidden and safe down here, you can moan low in your throat while keeping your hands around his knees and begin to bob your head without another thought or worry whatsoever.  Handling it is all on him.  He just needs to stay quiet, be still, and shoot his gun.  It should be the simplest thing in the galaxy for him, right?

Wrong.  So wrong.  You hear the way the bolts are pinging off the sides of the target now, you listen to him grunt and let off a few more shots that also sound like they miss.  Your soft palate lifts and you’re practically drenching yourself at how wide he stretches your throat while you take him down as far as you can, and there’s a moment where you’re holding there and you think about doing something about the dull ache throbbing between your legs.  But once you pull off him for air and automatically touch your drooling tongue to your palm, you decide this is what you want more.

Your slick hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly jerk him off while your mouth moves down to attach to his balls once more, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length.  Din almost doubles over into the platform, his hips stuttering up for the first time at the hard stimulation you’re finally giving him.  His skin swells and tightens in your mouth—you can feel the tension locking his thighs down, you can hear the shots above you start to decrease in frequency, and you know he’s already close.

So you move back up to suck on the head of his cock again and slowly swirl your tongue around it, continuing to use your hand to pull steady and firm on the rest of his shaft, and you just close your eyes and wait for him to give you what you want.  His firing soon stops altogether and you squeeze your finger between your thighs and press hard against your clit, just needing to relieve some of the ache.  You keep doing that, you keep drawing circles with your tongue while slowly jerking the rest of him off into your mouth, and at some point, it all just becomes too much for him.

“Shit,” Din gasps, along with the sudden sound of metal skittering against the clay above you, and your eyes pop open in surprise.  “Ah, sh—shhhhh—”

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

You start to pull back, but then suddenly a trembling hand shoots down and clutches tight under your throat, hooking hard behind your jaw to make sure you stay right there.

His cock starts throbbing and he shudders, slamming his other palm on the shelf and cumming hard in your mouth.  You’re already swallowing before he even gives you anything but Maker, you’re fucking desperate for it that your hand moves to curl your fingers against the exposed skin at his hips as if that’ll somehow help you get it sooner.  The first taste of him comes as soon as you dig in and drag your nails down his flesh, and Din is helpless to do anything else besides clutch your jaw tight and gasp raggedly while emptying himself down your throat.

He shakes and shudders and you don’t spill a single drop, clutching his hips and pulling him close to keep him in your mouth, and as he slowly comes down from that plateau, you lick every inch of him clean.  His fingers gradually lose their rigidity around your jaw and eventually, his fingers drop down to press gently against your throat while his hips pull back.

He slips from your mouth and you wipe the wetness from your chin, staring up at his cock wistfully and almost wanting to keep going.  Is that fucked up, you wonder?  What would he think?

He hasn’t moved yet, why isn’t he moving?  Your job is clearly finished here, no matter what kind of way you may feel about that.  The coast must not be clear, you have to assume.  Perhaps someone is wandering around behind him, maybe he’s still being cautious about the nosy person next door—all you know is that you can tell he wants to move but he isn’t, which likely means he can’t.  You know his cock must be so unbelievably sensitive right now, but he’s not easing his body back far enough away from the shelf to tuck it into his pants.  He’s keeping it right in front of your face and expecting you to stay there until he deems it appropriate for you to get up.

The longer you wait for him to step back and let you out from under here, the more your need sparks and grows.  What would he think?  That you’re so desperate for his cock that you still want it in your mouth even when it’s soft and spent?  Maker, he’d be fucking right on the money.

At some point, you can’t stop yourself.  You lean back up to slowly take his soft cock back in your mouth, and Din nearly spasms while you slip your hand under your waistband and widen your knees.

You don’t do anything spectacular to it—you’re not that cruel—but you do hold him on the heat of your tongue and keep him there, fluttering your eyes closed as your finger finally touches your clit.  Air puffs shakily through your nostrils and you think Din is actually shaking harder than you are, his body fighting oversensitivity while yours starts the race towards bliss.  He doesn’t stop you but it also feels like he’s purposefully trying not to, like everything in him is rebelling against the wet heat of your mouth but knowing you’re only doing this because you’re so painfully turned on.  You’re doing this because you need it, in spite of the electric shocks of wicked sensation it seems to be inspiring in him.

Your finger speeds up and you start gently sucking on the warm, giving flesh, and his hand trembles as it grabs at your hair.  Fuck, you don’t care if he thinks you’re desperate—you want him to recognize it, you want him to know exactly how much you love his cock—

That thought sends a dark thrill down your spine and pleasure burns bright and needy where you’re still rubbing your clit, dropping your hips and rolling them forwards against your hand.  And oh, your only lament is that you wish he was the one doing this.  You wish Din was building your pleasure instead of letting you use his body in search of your own, you wish it was his hand working between your legs and about to shove you over that ledge, but then again.  Something about this whole fucking scene is just so… undignified.  Debased.  And you’re getting off on it, quicker than you ever thought possible.

When you cum, you’re good and you don’t make a single sound when you cum.  You squeeze your eyes shut and your entire body jolts with every single shattering wave of ecstasy, and Din tugs a handful of your hair and slowly rocks his hips once, twice, fucking your mouth while you endure wildfire burning through your veins.  By the time you finish convulsing on the fucking floor of a Tatooinian gun range, you know you can go for another and probably get it equally as quick as that one, but Din is already pulling his cock out of your mouth and shoving it back into his pants.  You’re like jelly as your elbow is immediately caught in his arm and you’re hauled up from your hiding spot, dazed and disoriented.

The chrome visor stares you down and you want to shrink in on yourself, thinking he’s going to take your happy ass back to the Crest.  You should be in trouble, you know you should be in trouble.  Leaving the recesses of your dark cubby and coming face to face with your surroundings brings a brand new clarity to light—you totally should not have done any of that.  He was trying to teach you, for Maker’s sake.  He was taking the time to show you the valuable knowledge he’s gained regarding weaponry and self-defense.  Fuck, you even told him on Naboo that you wanted to shoot a gun, and he brought you here to do just that.

Except then he just spins you around and picks up the blaster from the adobe ledge in front of you, placing it firmly in your hands.

“Okay,” he pants quietly next to your ear, breathing hard and shallow through the helmet.  “Now you should be able to focus, right?”

Fuck…  Fuck, is he serious?  You can barely hold the damn thing, you’re shaking so hard.  How does this work again?  What does this do?

“Wh-What?”  You croak—fuck, your voice is gone.  “I… I can’t—”

“Try,” he encourages, helping your comparatively tiny hands flip off the safety but other than that, stepping back and leaving you to it.  Completely and hopelessly lost, you weakly twist around to watch him stand next to the kid’s closed metallic shield.  “Hit the target,” Din reiterates with a nod, trying to catch his breath.  “You can do it.”

You look back out with unfocused eyes to see it still all the way on the far end of its track, and there’s just absolutely no fucking way.  “I… can’t.”

“Hit the target and we can go home,” he tells you, and while you don’t exactly know what home is anymore, something tells you it’s somewhere in hyperspace.  A resting baby, a metal floor, a pitch black hull, and your cheek pressed against a warm chest.

It sounds… wonderful.

Inspiring a newfound kind of desire in you, you lift your arms as best you can and work so, so hard to keep them steady.  The target is in your sights and you do your absolute best—fuck, you really do, but you pull the trigger and the shot sadly bounces off the edge.

You drop your hands, already defeated and drained.  “I can’t.”

“Hit the target and I’ll buy you a blaster,” he ups the ante, and you instantly lift your dead arms again.  Fuck, come on, come on, you can do this.

You shoot.  Nope.  So you shoot again.  And then you shoot again, and again, minutely adjusting your wrists purely based on where the bright red plasma is landing and ignoring the scope entirely.

“A nice one,” he continues over the pew pew pew of you just continuing to fucking miss, fucking miserably, over and over again.  “Expensive.  Hand-crafted, one of a kind…”

Miss, miss, miss, and—no.  Just, no.  There’s only so much glaring failure you can take before you snap.  You finally stop shooting and growl in frustration, going to slam the metal down on its resting place.  “Mando, I ca—”

“Hit the target and I’ll marry you,” he says quietly, and you freeze just before impact.

… What?  N… No…

Miraculously, you somehow manage to calmly switch the safety on and set the blaster down before turning back to see the helmet staring at you, unmoving.

You… you know it must just be a joke, right?  Just a stupid extension to the one he made earlier, it must be.  You blink dumbly at him and flick your gaze between the visor and two large black eyes staring at you from the crib, wondering if you glitched or if you’re just hallucinating.

“Uh…” you hear yourself say, even though you’ve got absolutely nothing, but Din doesn’t offer anything else to fill in the gaps of your startled misunderstanding.  If you didn’t have such a wild fucking reaction to the words, you'd probably wonder if he actually said them or not—that’s how much he gives away.  Silent, so unbelievably silent when you’re begging him to give you at least something.  Is he messing with you again?  Is he just that confident that you’re going to fail?

It takes forever for you to turn back around and face the target, but you eventually do when he refuses to elaborate.  Your heart slams in your chest and you wonder what you’re doing even attempting this.

The moment you lift your trembling arms is the moment you know your heart is pounding too fast—your finger twitches with the wild rush of blood flow and you end up pulling the trigger way before you’re ready.  You fire before you’ve checked your sights, you fire before you’ve taken any sort of aim whatsoever, you fire spontaneously enough to surprise even yourself and it—

—it hits dead center.

Your stomach drops and a jolt of some rabid feeling punches through you, you have no idea what it is.  You whip around so fast that you get dizzy, seeing him standing there, completely still.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” you quickly reassure him, suddenly feeling faint.  Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck just happened?  “Listen—hey, no, listen, I can’t get it again,” you explain shrilly to the utterly dead silence from him.  “Look, watch this, double or nothing.”

You spin back around, well aware that absolutely nothing about what you just said or what just happened made any fucking sense at all.  Beginner’s luck when you’ve been consistently awful at this, telling him repeatedly to listen when you’re very, very fucking aware he hasn’t said anything, double or nothing on a literal proposal as if double marriage is something that actually exists?

No.  Shut up.  Don’t even think that word, don’t think about fucking anything.  Fire, fire without thinking, just lift the gun and pull the trigger—

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

“Uh?!”  Your voice comes out on a squeak, now in a complete fucking panic.  What the fuck?  No fucking way.  Perfect, perfect, the odds are fucking astronomical—another deadly accurate shot.  “Ah, um, okay, scratch everything I said—th-third time’s a charm?”

Wide-eyed and having absolutely no clue what you’re doing at this point, you fail to see Din slowly turn his helmet down and to the right as he stands behind you.  You go to lift your arms and pull the trigger, but then he suddenly reaches out lightning-quick and bumps your elbow upwards at the very last second.  

The abrupt push causes your shot to be angled off course spectacularly and you can’t do anything but look up and gasp in horror, worried it’s going to ricochet off the ceiling and land somewhere this building isn’t architecturally designed to absorb.  There’s just enough time to wildly wonder why the fuck he did that—

—but then, like pure magic before your eyes… the beam of plasma adjusts itself in midair.  

It fucking bends.  Across the length of your entire firing lane, it curves in a downward trajectory and hits the target with absolutely impossible physics.

Your jaw fucking drops and you whip your body around in dumb shock to see Din staring hard at the closed shield next to him.

… that’s not closed.

The baby tilts his head at you and coos happily, one ear tipping up while the other tips down, and you’re completely blown away.  Not only at the entirely unexpected demon-power display, but what specifically he was hoping to get out of it.  You’re still stuck, blinking down at the adorable little goof with abilities you’ll never understand.

Only, a hand suddenly grabs yours and drags you back to yourself.

“We need to leave,” Din says quietly, switching the lid shut on the hovering crib and pushing it towards the booth’s exit while tugging you along behind him.  “I don’t know how many people saw that, we need to leave.”

Sure enough, voices in the next partition over start picking up, likely the only ones in here who had a good enough angle to watch the physically unthinkable shot somehow meet its target, and your adrenaline quickly begins pumping while you keep your head down and power-walk your ass to the door.  You don’t know the kind of consequences that could potentially arise from others witnessing the kid’s literal sorcery, but you know you’d rather not take the chance.  The voices start growing louder as you three make your quick escape, beginning to ask others around them if they just saw that, but you’re already out of the rectangular adobe structure and long gone by the time anybody steps out of their panels to hear the uproarious accusations of cheating beginning to fly.

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

[thisdreamplace]

i really admire your energy and how in love with life and the world you are. i'd like to reach a similar point too but im finding the 3d unbearable and the fact that im God and the one creating this for myself was pretty freeing at first because it meant that I could change it but 2 years later, everything is worse and knowing im the one responsible is devastating. specifically, i don't understand how to focus on the 4d and leave the 3d alone when the whole point of me getting into loa was to change my life (3d AND 4d). its great to see people emphasising the 4d and love and peace but im human, i have more than just those 3 feelings. i know the inner me is God but im still in a human body in a human experience and ignoring the 3d has made me miserable. i'd like to direct this experience and give myself the opportunity to do, see, hear and feel the things i have experienced in imagination, in the 3d too. I have lived in the 4d for two years now, it's vivid and feels real to the point where hours pass with me visualising a certain scene but once that's over something in the 3d happens and my stomach drops and i have to go back to my imagination and convince myself that i don't feel my heart breaking. it works for a while, i feel powerful or whatever and then i open my eyes and nothing has changed for the better.

my friends who don't believe in the law go out and live their lives and make progress and i have had nothing but stagnancy. they were born not wealthy but not poor either and can afford to support themselves with help from their parents and now independently. they have great personalities and are genuinely good people and I want to be like them too. I keep seeing them get specific things that I want for myself and on one hand im so happy for them and proud that they're having their dreams come true... im ashamed to admit that my blood may have turned green with the envy and jealousy i feel. but that's the truth. i thought i could revise or manifest my way to support as well, not just financially but emotionally, giving myself better parents, better relationships, health and more. i feel stuck and like im running out of time to catch up not just with them, but with where i thought i would be by now. im being vague because I don't want to trauma dump but mentally, this is taking a toll. i really can't go through another year, another birthday feeling such unspeakable pain.

do you have any advice on how i can fix this? should i just leave the law altogether? I know it's hard to give up the law completely one you find it but if going back to believing in "false gods" gives me what i want, then is it so bad? if Judaism can give me love or Buddhism can give me peace or astrology or tarot can guide me to money and maybe the Christian God can grant all of the above, then are they so bad? even if, in the back of my mind I'll most likely always think of them as placebos, it could still work, no? i'd be giving up the pearl but i'd be more satisfied in the 3d that I have to wake up to every morning.

i think that a lot of what youre saying is entirely important bc i know youre not the only one with those type of questions and feelings. everything that youre saying to me is very similiar to how i felt before i finally allowed myself to experience life in a more loving and beautiful and soft way.

i also felt the same, learning about the law and feeling like i had all this control over my life. it felt like i finally found home. then 2 years passed. of course, i did manifest things because youre always going to. its simply automatic. but even with each success, so much of life was still really hard and unbearable, mainly because i was counting on the law to do the thing everyone swore it does. i couldnt understand why things, the things i really wanted, were not showing up. so after 2 years i said fuck this, i am not living this way for a third year. i think its important to note something. how you feel so responsible for everything. its time to let that go. i challenge you to stop upholding yourself to someone else's belief system and use you, your own experience, as a guide. can you really say that for the past 2 years you sat there and actively manifested misery ? or do you believe that bc someone else says thats how it works ? beginning to ask yourself these questions is the way out. use your life experience as the truth, not someone else's claims. i also know what you mean, as it is frustrating and confusing to hear people tell you tthat you can have everything you want (in the 3d) and then to turn around and tell you to focus on the inner world (4d) and let the rest go. because like u said, thats exactly why we come here. for the outer experience ! i think its important to be said, because it allows us to start cracking through the toxic world that manifesting became. because youre right, how are we meant to do both ? well we're not. we are only meant to focus on the inner world (bc we literally have no choice) and let the rest flow. the controversial part is that, where that flows, is exactly where we are meant to go. and sometimes its in different directions than we originally thought it would be. this is why i resisted it for a long time myself. until ofc, like you, i couldnt take it anymore. suddenly my desires didnt feel more important than i was. suddenly i realized how i feel on a daily basis, regardless of anything, is what truly matters.

i think that your friends are a light shining into your life, showing you how smooth and easy life can flow. without even trying. you dont need to feel bad tbh. i think after 2 years, it is beyond normal to start feeling some type of way. i know i did at times ! i would see people in my life, who do little focus on their inner world, getting the things the law promised me i would get. of course, i could feel happy for them but utterly bad about myself and my life at the same time. how could it come to them so easily when i was the one following everything the law told me to do ? i just didnt get it. until it all made sense. it came to them because they were just living life. because they were just being. they didnt have this haunting in the back of their mind everyday, every second, telling them this thing could show up soon. they didnt analyze themselves everyday. they didnt even have a perfect sense of knowing. they just sort of knew what they wanted, and knew either it could or even could not happen, and went on every day. just being... them. and it was enough. so many lightbulbs started going off for me then. i think this is your moment too, to take a step back and start recognizing what simply isnt working for you, no matter who claims its the way. its not your way. i know exactly what you mean because every birthday since i have found out about the law, i have cried or had a meltdown on the day or after it. no matter how beautiful or full of love each birthday was. i couldnt see it or feel is fully. because instead, it was like fuck, another year has passed and this isnt what i saw for myself. what you said truly brings up old memories for me. it reminds me why i left. so if anything, just know you arent alone. this is so normal for many people who spent so much time trusting in what they were learning, and im glad more people are coming to terms with the fact something simply was not right for them !

its time to recognize that you never did anything wrong. i know i didnt and i know you didnt either. its so much easier to blame the person, so that the ego can continue to get high off the promise of control. if you blame the person, then you can still believe in that sense of total control. its a lot easier to do so than to come to terms with the fact that total control isnt what we thought it was when we first came to the law. and not everyone is ready for that convo ! but i put so much into myself, so i won't let anyone sit here and gaslight me and even attempt to say that certain things didnt work for me because i was not doing X enough or i wasnt X enough. and you shouldnt take that either ! not even from yourself ! for me, i know it unfolded that way for the simple fact i was being called to follow myself. and after doing so, ive literally never been lighter. this has quite literally been the most mentally healthy and most joyful year i have had since being alive. and i spent most of this year doing me. not worrying about manifestations.

i will say this. it is hard to give up the law initially, especially after an extended amount of time (years), because you have ingrained it into yourself. it will feel like youre crazy, it will feel like youre lying to yourself. i think that the law is explained in a way that makes it really easy to get trapped, because of how much responsibility is burdened onto your human self. at times you will want to guilt yourself and tell yourself everything is your fault and wonder why you manifested something, because that was your conditioning for the past two years. but i promise you, if you listen to yourself and follow what feels right that starts to go away. if i use my experience as evidence, i know my beliefs arent placebo effects or lies. because its literally been evident in my life. like that, the weight of the law starts to melt away. i stop feeling my human self as so responsible, and allow my true self to take responsibility and trust in that flow. too many of us take on our true selves as our human selves. its simply not the same thing. the god within is always leading you to where you're meant to go and the truth is many people are resistant towards that, so they choose to play god instead as this allows a feeling of more control. this is your wake up call happening now, telling you that the old way simply isnt working.

i also want to clarify that in none of this am i trying to saw the law is fake. manifestation is real. i just think that there is a reframing of it that is beginning to happen that will allow more people to live healthier, happier, softer lives. i think its okay to say "this isnt what i thought it was" rather than to force yourself everyday through the pain, telling yourself that once you just do X right then it will work for you too. that pain is trying to talk to you and tell you to stop, it doesnt have to be that difficult.

i rly felt like this was important to answer. whatever you decide to do anon, i hope that its smth that makes your heart sing. <3

[joontopia]

Oncoming Storm | KSJ

pairing: Human!Seokjin x Mermaid!reader

genre: smut, slight angst,  fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: fantasy au, strangers to lovers

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 5.6k (WILDLY UNEDITED)

warnings: slight angst, some pining, some mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, sharks, unprotected sex, biting, breast play,  fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms, cream pie, subtle mentions of religion

a/n: so here it is! and im so mad at myself because i’m posting it so late. i accidentally took a nap that turned into actual sleep. I changed the plot to this fic so many times, i was happy when i landed on a plot that i liked. please keep in mind that this fic is currently un-beta’d and un-edited. I’m still in the process of moving homes. so once I am done, I will go back and edit this fic. I really hope you enjoy this fic!

part of The Last Splash Collab hosted by @kimtaehyunq​ Maggie thank you so much for letting me join and putting up my shenanigans in our DMs. I love you!

The storm is close. You can feel it in the air. Sense it in the restless calm that has overtaken the ocean water around you. You know what this means, the whispers in the sea breeze only confirming your suspicions with each passing wind as you swim up to your lover’s boat. It’s time to migrate.

You had a feeling this time was coming soon. The last time a migration happened was two years ago. You remember it quite vividly. It was the very day you met the first friendly human you’ve ever come into contact with. The very handsome Kim Seokjin. 

It was at the beginning of the last migration. Your tribe of merpeople had just entered into your new territory, having followed the strong storm current until the flow started to calm. The usual indication that your tribe has reached whatever new home the God of the Sea has called you to. Everything was going fine, the heavy storms had kept the waters clear of any boats to help prevent any humans from witnessing pods of merpeople in the water. It wasn’t until your pod had reached the end of the current tunnel when trouble had struck. 

A group of rogue sharks were there to greet your people. Circling and dividing your clan, trying to weed out the weak swimmers from the strong. Many of your people were able to swim away, the warriors of the group fought off the sharks with no major injuries or casualties, managing to make the attackers flee the area. All but one. In the midst of all the chaos, one of the sharks had successfully rounded up two young mermaids who had gotten separated from the pack, circling them as if playing with them. Feeding off the sense of their fear before striking to kill. It wasn’t until you noticed the dark, hungry eyes of the deadly hunter focused on you that you realized what you had done. The blood from the cut on your arm won it’s attention, allowing the two younglings to scurry away to safety. 

You hadn’t even noticed you had done it. Instincts kicking in, causing you to grab one of the sharp shells on your necklace. Your body moving quickly on its own to create the mark, knowing the blood hungry beast wouldn’t be able to help itself. You turned the opposite way from where the younglings escaped and swam away as fast as you could, the shark following closely behind you. You looked around you, hoping to find a cave or possibly one of your fellow mer-warriors to help you with your escape. You don’t know how far or how long you swam, dodging each attack the shark attempted on you. You could feel your body growing tired, your tail not able to keep you at the same speed as before. You sense the shift in the water, your attacker positioning himself for another strike. You use the last of your strength to dodge once again, barely evading the shark’s bite as a few of his teeth clip your side. Traces of your blood dissipate into the water as you once again start to swim away, the pain of your new injury destroying the rest of your energy. You start to think you’re finally done for until you’re suddenly dragged up and out of the water. The sudden rush of fresh air invading your lungs as you look around you in a panic, gripping at the netted rope that you found yourself ensnared in.

With night time in its full glory in the sky, you try to use the light of the moon to check your surroundings. It’s not until you feel yourself moving around in the air that your eyes finally see the fishing boat your entrapment is attached to. Panic takes over as the predicament of your situation starts to settle in. In the midst of escaping one of your kinds’ greatest threats, you managed to get yourself caught by the next worst thing. Humans. 

You reach for one of the shells on your necklace, yanking it free and trying to make quick work on the ropes holding you captive. You nearly make a hole big enough for you to slip out and back into the water when you feel the net dropping, your body slamming hard on the deck of the boat. You scramble to get yourself free of the net before your captor has a chance to make an appearance. Your tail thrashes around wildly, making you feel like the quite literal fish out of water that you are. You silently pray the thrashing and the sea breeze is enough to quickly dry your scales, allowing your lower body to take on a human form. Your wish goes unanswered, replaced by the grace of the net being freed from around you. You flip to your stomach, adrenaline coursing through you as you try to scoot yourself to the edge of the boat. Your blood pumps so loudly in your ears, deafening you to the heavy footsteps coming up from behind. You’re nearly to the back of the boat when you feel hands clasp your arm, your fight or flight reflex causing you to flip back over, slapping your newest attacker across the face with your tail. Successful knocking them away and on their ass. You go to turn back to make your escape when you hear the voice of your attacker. His choice of words halts you from jumping back into your home.

“Wait! The shark is still there!” He exclaims, pure panic and genuine concern laced in his vocals. You keep your eyes on the water, breathing heavily as you peer into the dark abyss in front of you, trying to see if the shark was still indeed awaiting for your return into it’s hunting ground. Thinking your fate is sealed either way, you consider risking it before once again being interrupted by his voice.

“Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I was trying to help-- Holy hell…” The stranger's words die out as you turn to look at him, his eyes on your body as you follow his gaze down to your dissipating tail. The usual bluish purple of your scales slowly shed from you. The now smooth appendage slowly forms into the shape of human legs, having dried enough to allow the transformation. The remaining scales of your tail cling to your flesh in patches, glinting in the moonlight as you move to curl into yourself and put distance in between you and the strange man before you.

“You’re actually real. Mermaids are actually real,” the man speaks softly, as if to himself. His eyes locked on the fallen scales scattered across the floor. You take in a few deep breaths, watching him carefully as you build up the courage to speak.

“Please…” you gasp. The man’s eyes flicking up to yours, his features softening as he notices the fear in your eyes. “Please just let me go.”

The man scans your body quickly one last time, shock taking over his gaze as he scrambles to his feet, removing the weather jacket from around his shoulders and approaches you slowly. You flinch in fear, the man halting and holding his hands up as he takes a small step back. 

“No, no. It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Please, just take this. I don’t want you to get cold.” He slowly hands the jacket in your direction. You eye it carefully before looking back up at his face, trying to find any trace of deceit in his demeanor. You find nothing but softness, allowing yourself to accept his offer, taking the jacket from his hands and wrapping it around you. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, clutching the jacket closer to you as you continue to watch your unexpected savior. 

“Here, let me help. We should get your wounds patched up,” He says to you as he slowly approaches you again, his hand still held out towards you. This time looking to help you to your feet. You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to pull you upright. You let go of him prematurely, not anticipating how shaky your lower body would be. You try to take a step forward, following him to a nearby bench only for your newly formed legs to give way causing you to start to fall forward and straight into the man’s arms. “Woah, easy there. Hold on tight, okay?”

You nod your head meekly, blushing as you hold on to his arm as he walks you to the bench and sits you down. Your hand slides down his arm as you let him go, allowing you to feel the firmness of his muscles as he pulls away. He kneels down beside you, opening a small door under the bench and pulls out a small red case. You watch him as he moves, eyes falling on to the wide expanse of his shoulders as he opens up the case, pulling out various bandages and ointments. He looks back up at you and you quickly look away. Your blush deepening from being caught staring at him. You notice his smirk out of the corner of your eye as he holds out his hand, gesturing towards the injuries on your side. “May I?” he asks you, the gentleness in his tone chipping away at your resolve. You nod once again, moving the jacket just enough to expose your injuries to the man.

He quickly goes to work, silence falling between the two of you as he starts cleaning your wounds. You watch him as he works, admiring the determination in his eyes. You observe his face, tracing the slight dip of his nose and observing the pink plushness of his lips. Finding it cute how he has them slightly parted as he focuses on your scratches. As if he feels you watching him, his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze for only a second before looking back down at his current task and clearing his throat. 

“So what's your uh… Or do you have a name? What can I call you?” He asks you, a blush creeping up on his face as he starts to feel self conscious over his question.

You giggle at the cuteness, knowing this has to be a new social experience for the two of you. This being the first time you’ve ever interacted so closely with a human and, considering his reaction earlier, this would be his first interaction with someone of your kind as well. You clear your throat as well, hoping your shyness has subsided enough for you to be able to speak clearly. 

“I do. It’s Y/N. Thank you for saving me. I would have never expected this type of kindness from a human.” You smile down at him as he chuckles at your words. He places the last of the bandages on your wounds, packing up the small case and placing it back in its spot beneath the bench.

He looks up at you, blessing you with a breathtaking smile that knocks the air from your lungs. The sight of the simple gesture melting away the rest of the protective guard you held up and seeping straight into your heart, wanting nothing more than to stay this close to him. You feel the warmth radiating from his hand that’s resting on your exposed knee, finding comfort in the closeness from this complete stranger. You don’t notice how out of tune with reality you become until you see his lips start to move, the honey sweet baritone of his voice bringing you back to the moment. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Seokjin.”

He let you stay on the boat that night, allowing you to take the bed as he slept up on the couch in the cabin. Giving you somewhere safe to stay as you waited for morning, in hopes that it will allow you a safe return into the ocean to reunite with your tribe. You had thought you would never see him again, but fate had a different plan. It was only two short weeks later that you found yourself venturing upon his boat. You had stayed a safe distance away, wondering just how many boats with purple stripes down the side existed on this side of the water. It wasn’t until you saw the enscripted boat name “Epiphany” on the side shortly before the handsome, wide shouldered captain made his appearance. The moment he noticed you approach his vessel, he gave you the warmest smile, helping you onboard and offering you a blanket to cover your transforming body. 

Since that day, the both of you made these little visits a weekly tradition. Spending the whole day learning about each other, swapping stories about each other's worlds. Growing closer and more intimate in your interactions the more time you spend with each other. The hellos and goodbyes were combined with hugs. Casual conversations were enhanced by subtle touches and soft grazes of each other's skin. Then one night during a full moon, the first of which you two were able to enjoy together, Seokjin found the courage to pull you close, asking you if it was okay to give you a kiss. 

You remember being taken back by the softness of his plush lips, how your body melted into his from the tenderness of his touch. It wasn’t long before you began staying the night with Seokjin, sharing his bed while exploring each other’s bodies. You had never been touched by a man before. Had expressed that concern with him only to be comforted with the knowledge that he wouldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t want.  

You smile at the memory of your shared nights together, not realizing you had made it to the Epiphany until you hear Seokjin’s voice cutting into your thoughts.

“Arms too tired to pull yourself up?” He teases you as he looks over the side of the boat, smiling as he watches you wading in the water.

You stick your tongue out, mocking his laughter as he reaches for you, helping you onto the deck. “ Ha ha. You’re quite the comedian, Jinnie,” you tease back, savoring each sound of his addictive laugh as it rings through your ears. Oh, how you’re going to miss that laugh. 

The reminder of the oncoming storm brings your mood back down. The sudden shift in your demeanor doesn’t slip past Seokjin. His brows furrow in concern as he watches you, handing you the towel and one of his t-shirts he had waiting for you. You start to pat your scales dry, refusing to look at him as you’re not quite ready to break the news. Much to your dismay, Seokjin was not on the same page as you.

“What’s wrong, love?” His voice addresses you softly. His genuine concern for you wraps you in a warm embrace, causing unwanted tears to begin to pool at your waterline. You still don’t look up at him. Your gaze trained on your shedding scales as you dry off your upper body before pulling his t-shirt over you. As the fabric passes your nostrils, you breathe in deeply, taking in every note of his scent and committing it to your memory. Your heart begins to ache with every breath you take. You finally look up at him once your legs finish transitioning, standing from your spot on the deck. He reaches out to help steady you, a reaction you know he did without even thinking. The ache in your heart deepens as you grab onto his forearms to balance.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to say. “I have to leave, Jin.” 

His features contort in confusion, his hands still on your waist as he questions your words. “So soon? But you just got here,” he responds, the gravity of your statement completely lost on him.

“No,” you say as you shake your head. Tears threaten to spill over as your voice begins to shake. “I have to leave. The storm, Jin. It’s coming.”

Jin continues to look at you in confusion. It takes a full minute before he realizes what you mean, his eyes growing wide with panic indicating to you that he’s caught on.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “It could be just a terrible storm. Just like before.” 

The hopefulness in his voice nearly breaks you. You wished he was right. Wished this was just a false alarm. It was almost a year ago from this day when you thought the storm for the migration was starting. There were only small indicators that the brewing weather was going to be it, but enough indicators that had you convinced it was going to happen. It was also the first night you gave yourself completely to Seokjin, wanting your last night with him to be a memorable one. When you had learned in the following days that the threatening storm had passed, you were ecstatic, wasting no time to race back to Seokjin and into your rightful place beside him. You spent every night with him in his arms ever since. But now the omens of what's to come are back again. And this time they are very much real.

You shake your head at him once again, stepping into him and leaning your head onto his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly as if you were going to disappear right there. “I’m sure of it, Jinnie. The tribe’s elders confirmed it this morning. The storm will be here in three days.”

Silence grows between you two as you stand there holding each other. You have no idea what to say at this moment. No idea what either of you could say, but you just want to hear his voice. Just want to hear it as much as possible before your inevitable departure. As you fail to search for something to say, you feel the vibrations in his chest from him starting to talk and you're grateful that it’s only one of you that's at a loss of words. It’s not until you hear what he asks that you wish the two of you sat in silence just a little longer.

“What if you don’t leave? You can stay with me. Live by the shore, somewhere remote where you’ll be safe.” 

Your tears begin to fall freely as you pull away from him. His arms only loosen around you slightly, giving you just enough space to lean back and look up at him. “Bad things happen to mermaids who get separated from their pack. The loneliness will eat away my soul, changing me into something dangerous. I would no longer be myself.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Jin states confidently, looking down at you with determination in his eyes. Your tears fall faster as you shake your head again.

“It’s too dangerous, Jin. The storm will kill you. The Gods created this specifically to keep us safe as we travel in masses.”

Jin closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he leans his forehead against yours. His breathing becomes ragged as he continues to hold you closely. “Then stay with me until you need to leave. Only if you can,” he whispers to you, the slight tremble in his tone crushing your heart.

“I can do that,” you respond, leaning up on tiptoes as you place a soft kiss on his plush lips.

The two of you spend the rest of your day talking, Jin asking every possible question he can think of, trying to find a way to decipher where this storm may take you. You answer him the best you can with the limited information that you have. Tribal Elders have tried their best to determine a pattern in the way your new homes were chosen, but never find anything concrete. It is a decision truly left up to the Gods. 

As night falls upon you, you feel the exhaustion come over you. Slowly leading Seokjin to the bed, you curl up into him the moment you both settle onto the mattress, clinging on to him with all your might. Not wanting to part from him until you absolutely have to. He places soft kisses on your head as he holds you just as close, humming to you in his sweet voice as he starts to rock the two of you to sleep.

Not wanting to sleep just yet, you readjust yourself slightly, allowing yourself enough space to move closer to Jin’s lips, kissing them as soon as you reach them. He kisses you back and you waste no time to deepen the connection, licking his bottom lip with your tongue as a wordless request to enter. He reciprocates, the both of you parting your lips, your appendages dancing around each other in a fiery passion. 

You run your hand down his bare body, slowly making your way to the hem of his pants. Seokjin stops you, grabbing your hand into his own.

“We don’t have to do this,” Jin whispers to you, trailing kisses along your face. “Being here with you is enough.”

“I want to, Jin. Please, make love to me.” Your voice shakes in your response, your lips trembling from the sob building in your chest. Jin stops it with his own lips, capturing yours into another deep kiss. 

Releasing your hand, Jin helps you undress himself before pulling your lone shirt from over your body. He lays you back against the bed, placing more soft kisses across your face before trailing his lips down your body. He stops at your breast, taking a moment to circle your pert nipples with his tongue. He gives each a small suck, the sensation causing you to arch your back, shoving your breast further into his face. Before releasing the last bud, Jin gives it a soft nibble, chuckling at the light gasp that escapes from you before continuing to lower himself down your body.

As he makes it to your core, he places your legs on his shoulders, rubbing your thighs as he looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you, my love. I’ll make sure you never forget tonight,” he coos at you as he places two fingers on your lips, forming a V with them to spread you apart. You feel him lick a strip right up your center. A delicious shiver crawls up your spine at the satisfying feeling. He gives you another lick, making a point to flick his tongue against your clit once he reaches the top. You feel your arousal leaking from your heat as Jin repeats his movements. You let out a groan with each stroke, your legs beginning to shake on top of his shoulders from the subtle teasing. 

You feel him gather your wetness on two fingers, slowly slipping both inside of you at once. You arch your back again at the pressure, trying your best not to squirm with each pump of his hands. Jin holds you down by the waist with his other hand to keep you in place as he picks up his speed, scissoring his fingers every few pumps to spread you apart. The moment you feel your walls begin to quiver, the pressure against them growing from the third finger Seokjin adds into your hole. He begins to move even faster, adding a curl to his fingers with each passing stroke. It’s not long before you feel a knot form inside of you, your toes curling at pleasure coursing through your body. You quickly feel yourself approaching the edge of your orgasm, the growing volume of your moans giving Jin a good indication of how close you really are. You think you hit a stall in your pleasure when Jin surprises you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. It’s not until he gives your swollen nub a quick flick with his tongue that the knot releases, your body shaking as you cum around his fingers. 

Jin continues to finger you through your orgasm, slowing his speed as he helps ease you down. The euphoric feeling takes over your body, too busy riding the high to notice Jin removing himself from your core. You’re barely down from your high when you feel Seokjin hover above you, slowly lining himself up to your pulsing entrance. He rubs the head of his cock around your slick hole, gathering us as much of your juices as he watches you, waiting to see if you’re okay with what’s to come next. 

“Do you want to keep going, my love?” he asks you so sweetly. The tenderness in his tone sings to your heart, the need for him growing with each passing moment.

“Yes, Jinnie. Please. Need you,” You whimper as you slowly push down onto him, your body begging to feel him where you want him the most. 

“I’m all yours, darling,” he assures you, pushing into you at the same time. 

You both groan in unison at the sensation. Jin slowly pumps in and out of you, sinking into you deeper with each motion as he patiently waits for your walls to adjust to him. As he buries himself inside of you, he watches your face for any signs of pain only to be met with your features contorting in pleasure. He pauses his movements, waiting for you to give him a sign that you're ready to continue. You try to answer him by grinding down your hips, only resorting to a verbal response once you notice he didn’t pick up on the action.

“Move, Jinnie. Please,” you whine as you wrap your hands around his shoulders, bringing him into you for a kiss. Jin starts his pace off slow, matching it with the speed of your shared kiss. Your walls continue to pulse around him with each slow drag, the tip of his length hitting that small bundle of nerves deep inside of you every time he buries himself to the hilt. You shamelessly whine for more, Jin wasting no time to answer the call. He speeds up his pace, pumping inside of you relentlessly. The familiar knot grows inside you quickly once again as each thrust pushes you closer to another release. You can sense Jin’s release coming closer as well by the way his thrusts become shorter and sloppier. He breaks your lips apart, leaning his forehead against yours as you both pant in pleasure.

“Cum with me, darling,” he groans as he moves one of his hands in between your bodies, placing his thumb on your swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. The added sensation is enough to send you back over the edge, your walls clamping down on Jin’s shaft with each pulse of your release as you call out his name. His own release overcomes him as he slams inside of you, filling you with his warm seed as he joins you, groaning out your name. He braces his arms beside your head, trying his best to keep himself from crushing you under his body weight, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss.

The next two days were spent exactly like this. The two of you never leaving the safety of the cabin, pretending like the outside world no longer existed. It was just the two of you in this bed, sharing the love you have for each other in every way possible.

By the dawn of the third day, the slight rocking of the boat from the restless waves wakes you, warning you that the migrating storm has begun. Jin stirs beside you, feeling your movements as you start to climb out of the bed. He sits up next to you, grabbing your arm before you are able to fully climb off the mattress and pulls you into him, hugging you to his body as he whispers into your ear, “Please, not yet. Just give me a few more minutes.”

You don’t argue or try to move. Knowing good and well you’d regret not taking these last few minutes when you have the chance. You hold each other in silence for just a few more minutes before Jin cups your chin gently, angling your face to kiss you deeply. You return it, the two of you pouring every once of love you have for each other into the kiss. After another moment, you force yourself to pull away, standing from the bed as you face the man before you. The boat now rocking more heavily as the winds begin to pick up.

“You have to leave now, Jin. You’re running out of time before it becomes unsafe.” 

He slowly nods his head as he begins to move, quickly dressing himself as soon as he gets up from the bed. You reach out your hand, watching as he takes it willingly, interlocking your fingers together as he starts to pull you towards the stairs leading to the deck. You walk in silence to the back of the boat, not finding the courage to release his hand, silently wishing to the Gods that you didn't have to leave.

You turn to him, looking up at him as he smiles sadly down at you. “Please don’t forget me,” you whisper softly, tears once again falling down your cheeks.

Jin reaches up with his free hand, wiping away the droplets as his own tears begin to streak his face. “I’ll never forget you. We’ll see each other again. This is not how we end.” 

The confidence in his tone stabs at your heart. Filling you with a hopefulness that you know will only crush you in the end. “How are you so sure?” you croak as your tears fall harder. “The world is big, and I have no idea where I’ll go and when.”

“The sea brought us together before, it will help us find each other again.” Jin leans down to kiss you one last time, as if to seal his uncertain promise. After a moment, he backs away, releasing your held hands at the same time. “Now go, before it's too late. I will find you. I promise. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Seokjin.” 

You give each other one last look before you turn around. You take a deep breath before diving into the water, the scales of your tail forming quickly from the moisture. You swim yourself a ways towards the direction of your tribe, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the man you love before resurfacing. Fearing that your resolve would not be strong enough to keep you from returning back to him. Once you feel like you made it far enough, you swim towards the surface, turning around immediately as you break out of the water. Your heart rips into tiny pieces as you watch the image of the Epiphany disappearing into the distance.

It’s been five months now in your new home. The beauty of the ocean and surrounding islands are just as captivating as all your previous homes, but something is keeping you from being able to enjoy your new slice of paradise. Something that you miss dearly every single day since you migrated. You feel the need to clear your mind, no longer wanting to dwell in your own sadness. You venture out into your new territory, swimming out further than you have before. You’re not sure why you do it, wandering this far out from the safety of your tribe being a completely reckless choice to make. Your only reasoning being that you’re just allowing the sea to take you wear you need to go, trusting in the Water Gods to keep you safe as you free float along the surface of the water. You happen upon a small island cove, hiding behind the tall rocks protruding from the water to provide you shelter from the heat of the sun. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the ambience of the ocean as the subtle song of waves breaking starts to lull you into a dream.

Your mind wanders to your lost love, your heart aching for him as you imagine what he could be doing at this very moment. You picture him on his boat, leaning over the edge with a fishing pole in hand. The image in your mind being drawn from pieces of your memories. The vision feels so real, so detailed in your mind, you feel like you can practically hear the soft rumble of his boat engines. 

Suddenly, you feel a displaced vibration in the water, the very rumbles you were just imagining now sounding a lot louder and much closer than your distant memory. You lean up from your free float, looking around you for whatever may be causing the disruption to your day dreaming. Peering out into the horizon, you faintly see a small vessel approach you. You quickly duck behind the nearest rock, hoping whoever is approaching hasn’t noticed you. You start to slowly sink under the surface, preparing yourself to make your escape when a sudden pull in your heart begs you to stop.

You peer out from your cover, watching the small boat carefully as it moves closer. The boat turns ever so slightly, allowing the purple stripes along the side to become visible. Your eyes grow large, a wide smile spreading across your face as you jump from around the secrecy of the rock and swim closer to the approaching vessel, the silhouette of it’s wide shouldered captain becoming more visible with each passing stroke.

[carrickbender]

Saturday 6:

1. Last weekend I helped my mom move her horse. Wanna know how it was? You know that scene from "The Big Lebowski" where Walter is releasing the ashes and it blows back and hits the Dude in the face, and he says, "why is it always a travesty with you?" Well thats exactly what it was- the trailer was stuck when we went to pick it up, she jack knifed going up a serious grade trying to get to the barn, had to call a tow truck, it got stuck, Juls had a tantrum and broke free of her when walking down said hill to the trailer... it was pretty much agricultural tragic. I love my mom, but good lord...

2. The chickens and farm life pics are from where my mom moved has moved Juls, and its absolutely stunning. The Camas flowers are just starting to bloom, he has friends ranging from barn cats to a dry band of ewes (who are living in the lap of luxury, waiting for God(dess), while eating some of the nicest grass I've ever seen). Oh, and the neighbours breed bison for meat soooo we are thinking about buying part of one. It's good stuff.

3. My last grandma is on the downward slide, and I kinda don't know how to feel about it. She and my dad have definite issues, but she and I have never been close thanks to me not even knowing my dad until I was 19. He says he has some "grandma stuff" that he wants to tell us, but he wants to wait until she has passed on. And I also don't know how to feel about that either...

4. I booked my trip to see my dentist for the 21st of June. I have money, but its a question of will I have enough cash to get it all done... I swear to God(dess), sometimes I just want the damn things all yanked out and get dentures. Lol, let's see what kind of magic they can work. #thanksulcers

5. Speaking of medical issues that belong between a person and their doctor, the anger I feel towards 3 particular senators is pretty intense these days. I don't know why Manchin is allowed to caucus with the democrats anymore. Schumer has no guts, and the whole thing disgusts me.

6. Oh, and last but not least: I tested positive for covid this morning. I started feeling crappy a few days ago, and it just kept getting worse: headache, stomach issues, fever, sinus pain, a little bit foggy mentally... and now I'm coughing a lot and exhausted. Should have been a clue last night when I pulled my CLO² sample(which is strong enough bleach solution to eat through your clothing with 1 drop), and on a whim, put it up about 3/4 of an inch from my nose and I couldn't smell it. So yeah... if yall have any boots on the ground advice, feel free to share.

Much love to all. And I'll be fine, really. I think im just used to being exhausted.

[y0itsbri]

hi bri! 📱 and/or 🫂?

hi mel! 💛💛💛 family content was calling to me today sorry 'bout it lol

📱 text message/phone call headcanon

mickey was such a little shit for the one week that ian had a job at the amazon warehouse while he stayed at home on his honeymoon. their days apart looked something like this.

mickey (8:37am): might go back to bed while my husband is hard at work 🖤

mickey (8:56am): ur pillow is cold fuckin finally

mickey (9:42am): u think judge judy is gettin sum on the regular?

mickey (10:04am): *image attachment*

ian (11:23am): mickey is that really just u smoking in ur underwear

mickey (11:26am): 😏😏😏 see something u like?

ian (11:27am): go away

mickey (12:38pm): picked lil red up from preschool. im definitely winning the favorite uncle competition in case u were wondering

ian (1:34pm): i wasn't. send me a picture of fran so i know she's still alive with ur dumbass

mickey (1:47pm): made sum mac&cheese

mickey (1:56pm): *image attachment*

mickey (1:57pm): *image attachment*

ian (3:31pm): *liked an image*

ian (3:32pm): how did u force her to dress up like u?

mickey (3:35pm): dont act like u dont know she didnt beg to. the matching sunglasses was her idea

mickey (4:23pm): debbie picked her up now. had to practically pry the crying kid away from me

ian (4:45pm): sure i totally believe that

mickey (4:52pm): why would i lie to u loverboy

mickey (5:03pm): lip wants us to come over 2nite btw

mickey (5:04pm): should i tell him to fuck off

mickey (5:06pm): maybe i'll turn tami against him to. that could be fun

ian (5:32pm): jesus christ mickey chill out i'll be home soon

mickey (5:34pm): better hurry the fuck up 😏

🫂 hug headcanon

it's no secret that mickey wasn't as free with his physical affection as teddy-bear ian gallagher was. franny was the only exception for awhile. she hadn't known any other version of mickey than her fun-loving uncle mickey. he had too much of a soft spot for little red -- the girl practically throwing herself at him whatever chance she got. what was he supposed to do? tell her no? not that he wanted to, either. he loved the little bugger, even if her mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

what came as more of a surprise was liam. liam had always been the baby, but he also knew how to read a room and when to keep his distance.

one night, liam had come home late after an evening of frank shenanigans, and begun his homework at the kitchen table. ian was already passed out upstairs, and mickey came down for a late night snack.

he unscrewed the lid to the jar of processed yellow cheese, dipping round tortilla chips straight into it -- crunching loudly.

"whatcha workin' on?"

"gotta study for my math test tomorrow. frank kept me out most of the night."

"oh, i could help you with math if you wanted."

"i thought you dropped out of high school?"

"don't need a high school degree to do 4th grade math, nerd. 'sides, i practically ran my house and family businesses -- i could do this shit in my sleep."

"really!?"

"yeah, kid, whatchu got?"

-

they studied together, eating almost the entire jar of cheese and bag of chips between the two of them, until liam was yawning so much he was making mickey tired.

"go get some sleep, man, i'll clean up."

liam nodded sleepily before trudging up the steps.

-

the next evening, mickey was standing in the kitchen, sipping on a beer and watching ian and lip argue about the stupidest shit when the front door flew open.

"mickey, mickey! i got 100% on my math test!" liam nearly knocked mickey over with the speed that he hurdled into him, hugging him tightly for a moment before his eyes widened. "oh, shit, sorry mick!" he began to pull away until mickey wrapped his arm around the kid.

"hey! good job, einstein, 'm proud of ya," mickey smiled down at the boy.

"thanks," liam said sheepishly as he ran upstairs to discard of his backpack.

--

the following week, they were having a movie night. it was some war movie shit that ian likes but liam would hate. the kid wanted to watch anyways. mickey plopped down on his corner of the couch while ian was digging through the cupboards to find his secret stash of twizzlers. liam sat on the cushion directly next to mickey, a plate of tortilla chips with cheese in hand.

"we can share these if you want," he murmured quietly, unsure.

"oh, sweet! that sounds fuckin' great," mickey shoved a chip in his mouth.

ian stood in the doorway frowning at the kid that took his spot on the couch next to his husband. mickey just nodded his head to the empty cushion on the other side of liam. ian sat and reached over the back of the couch to poke mickey's neck with a twizzler, just to be annoying.

about halfway through the movie, plate of chips now empty save for a couple crumbs, liam began drifting off, bobbing his head. mickey pushed the kid a little bit so he was more comfortable leaning against mickey's shoulder.

ian silently 'awwww-ed' and mickey just proceeded to flip him off. but it felt good to have kids around that actually liked him.

[storiesforallfandoms]

too much ~ henry cavill

word count: 1709

request?: yes!

“hii! i was wondering if you could write one where Henry Cavill and the reader are trying new things in the bedroom, like BDSM, and the reader gets overwhelmed so they have to stop and Henry takes care of them? thank you!”

description: in which they try to spice things up in the bedroom, but it becomes a little too much for her

pairing: henry cavill x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut, im also gonna put a warning of overstimulation and use of a safe word just in cause (i’ve seen it tagged as warnings before so i just want to make sure everyone knows before reading)

masterlist (one, two)

Henry was very much a gentleman when it came to sex. He wasn’t into doing things too fast or rough, unless it had to be a quickie. He was slow, gentle, tender. He treated every time you two had sex as if it were the first time.

That’s why you were so shocked when he asked if he could tie you up, blindfold you, and to tease you with the only actual sex toy you owned: a vibrator for the times when Henry was gone for a little too long.

You were definitely more than excited for this idea that Henry had, it would definitely be a great way to spice up your sex life, but you were still confused as to where it came from. You didn’t really have time to ask, though, as you were too excited to get things going the moment he suggested it.

You were sat on the edge of the bed, already stripped down to just your panties and bra. Henry was stood in front of you, holding one of his ties in his hand. He had taken out three - one for your eyes, and one for either of your wrists to tie to the bed - and you were grateful he had picked out something soft and comfortable for your first time trying this stuff.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he repeated for the third time.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want this,” you teased. “I’m sure I wanna try it at least. If it I don’t like it, I’ll just use the safe word, okay?”

Henry nodded. He leaned down to give you a quick kiss before wrapping the satin material around your eyes and tying it behind my back. With your vision gone, your heart started to race. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or more excited now, maybe a combination of both.

Henry helped to guide you gently onto your back and placed you in a way that your arms wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. He tied both your wrists to the headboard, allowing his hands to run down your arms and over your bare stomach in a painfully slow way. You tried not to whimper as they skimmed over your still clothed breasts, almost purposely teasing you.

One hand continued down your stomach and pressed against your clothed core, causing you to arch your hips in a way to press yourself harder against Henry. He chuckled as his fingers began to massage your clothed clit.

“You’re already so wet, baby,” he mused.

Now you were starting to regret agreeing to this. Not because you weren’t enjoying it, but because you knew you were going to regret agreeing to being teased so much when you just wanted to feel Henry inside of you.

You whined as you felt a loss of contact. You heard Henry walk away from the bed and you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to relieve the newly built up pleasure by squeezing your thighs together. Nearly seconds later, you felt a hand roughly pull your legs open again.

“Don’t be naughty, love,” Henry told you. “You have to wait for me in order to get pleasure.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you said, pouting blindly into the darkness.

You felt his lips against yours, a slight smile on his face. “I suppose you’re right. I should’ve gone through the rules in more detail with you.”

His hand slipped under your panties and pressed against your clit. You let out a moan and rocked your hips slightly against his touch.

“Rule number one, stay still,” he started, pushing your hips back down onto the bed. “Do not move unless I tell you. Rule number two, no pleasuring yourself. That defeats the whole purpose of me teasing you.”

You could barley comprehend what he was saying as his fingers travelled further down. Two of them slipped into your wet opening, causing you to gasp. He pushed them in as far as they could go before pulling them back out immediately.

“Rule number three,” he said, “do as I say. Open up, princess.”

You opened your mouth and felt the two fingers he had just slipped inside of you press against your tongue. You closed your mouth and sucked his fingers clean, earning you a groan in response.

He roughly pulled your panties off and you heard the familiar sound of your vibrator start up. The feeling of vibrations against your already sensitive clit brought a string of profanities from your mouth. You pulled against the ties that bound you, although you were unsure as to what you were going to do if you were able to free yourself.

Despite what the first rule was, your back arched and your hips moved almost as a reflex to the waves of pleasure that were rippling through your body. He wasn’t punishing you for it, though. Although you couldn’t see hi, you could almost feel the enjoyment he was getting from your writhing.

Your body had grown so used to getting a quick pleasure at times of desperation from your vibrator that you could feel an orgasm coming already. You tried your best to hold it down, but you were already so turned on that you knew that wasn’t going to be an option.

“Fuck, Henry, I’m gonna cum already,” you breathed.

“Already, love? That didn’t take long at all.” You felt his lips against your neck, the vibrator still pushing down on your sensitive clit, and his hot breath against your ear as he said, “Cum for me, baby.”

That alone was enough to send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you let out a cry of pleasure as your entire body shook and trembled. Henry kissed and nipped at your neck, even taking your ear between his teeth in a way that he knew drove you insane.

You thought he would take the vibrator away from your after you had came, and that maybe he’d finally start fucking you, but to your surprise he still pushed the vibrating toy hard against you, causing you to continue your shivering of pleasure. For a moment, it felt so good that you thought you were going to cum again already, until the pleasure was replaced with an overwhelming feeling of overstimulation.

“I already came, Hen,” you said. “Aren’t you going to fuck me now?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I kind of like seeing you trembling like this. Maybe I just tease you for a little longer with this dirty toy of yours.”

You tried to move your hips away from the vibrator, but every move you made Henry would follow. While you liked this idea of him over teasing you before fucking you, your clit was starting to ache from overstimulation and your trembles were starting to cause some pain in your bound arms. You could feel tears welling in your eyes and you weren’t sure if they were good or bad ones.

“Stop,” you breathed, trying to move his hand away from you with your thighs. “Fuck, stop Hen. It’s too much...avocado!”

The word pulled Henry from this dominating role and he immediately removed the vibrator from you. You nearly sobbed with relief as your felt your clit throbbing.

“Fuck,” you heard Henry say as he moved away from the bed for just a moment. You felt the bed dip next to you and his hands working to pull you free from your bindings. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling the blindfold off the moment your hands were free. “You didn’t know. But...you’ll definitely have to give me a while before we have sex.”

Henry nodded and retreated to the bathroom inside of your bedroom. You looked down at your poor clit, all swollen and red, and cringed to yourself. You had never been given such pleasure before that resulted in you becoming so overstimulated. You weren’t angry or upset with Henry for it, it’s not like either of you knew how your body would react the way it did so quickly, but you knew he was going to be upset with himself due to this.

He returned from the bathroom and passed you a cold cloth. You placed the cloth against your core, nearly sighing as the cold liquid cooled the area.

Henry climbed onto the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms. He was much gentler with you this time, running his hands up and down your arms and kissing your forehead every so often.

“I’m sorry, love,” he repeated, kissing you once more.

“I told you it’s okay,” you assured him. “You didn’t know, Henry. Please don’t be upset over this.”

He sighed. You moved your head to look up at him. “Where did this idea come from, anyways?”

He shrugged in response. “I really don’t know. It was just something I wanted to do. I wanted to try something new and see how it went. Bad idea, obviously.”

“It was a hot idea,” you corrected him. “Just, next time, we skip the teasing and go right to the sex.”

Henry smiled and chuckled. “Okay, deal.”

You both laid together for some time. The ache between your legs dulled until it was non-existent. You got up to discard of the cloth and sat yourself on Henry’s lap when you got back to the bed.

“Where were we?”

Henry smiled, but shook his head. “I think you should rest yourself before we continue.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “But I feel okay now.”

“I know, but I still feel bad and would rather know for sure you’re not in pain while we have sex.”

You gave him a playful look, but you appreciated that he was respecting your boundaries and what your body needed.

You rolled back onto the bed next to him and cuddled into his side. You spent the next hour or so just talking for a while, before Henry offered to get up and make the two of you something to eat.

It wasn’t where you expected the evening to go, but regardless, you couldn’t be happier with how things had ended.

[halcyon-writings]

i checked this list and it said persona so im hoping this is still ok. Date night with the protagonists? (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and thank you >///

ー『anonymous: Can i get dating headcanons for the persona protags (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and super thank yous. I love these boys so much. ;A;』

note(s): I am going to combine these requests as they are similar enough I hope that is alright! no real warnings for this one either, I just think these dudes are neat. Also I know they all have like 5 different names, so I just went with the ones I am more familiar with. Maybe(????) spoilers for 3, 4, and 5, so if you haven’t finished or played them, be warned (although, idk if anyone would read it if they haven’t played the respective game but idk warning for spoilers just in case) also idk how i feel about these hcs rn, but i did my best dhdjdj

all my other links can be found in my navigation post!! If you like my writing and you’d like to support me, my tip jar is also linked there!

hcs under the cut so i’m not clogging anyone’s dash (originally these were gonna be a short set of hcs but i guess not dbdndn)

What our dear protagonist lacks in overall extrovertedness, he makes up for in action. Surprise surprise, dates can either range from hanging out in the dorms and cooking a nice meal together. Or maybe going to the mall and heading to the arcade. Or basically wandering around until your legs hurt and your purchases range from new outfits to weird antiques from the antique shop.

However he really does treasure these little trinkets, because the memory of your laughter when you were given a certain item will forever be ingrained in his mind. It’s a comfort in the end too.

Date nights are focused on you and you only. He definitely sets a date where he knows you both are free so that there’s less likely of a chance for being interrupted. He definitely wouldn’t want his time with you to be wasted. Although seeing his small pout when it does happen is very cute.

You also gotta be keen on if he sees something he likes and wants. While Minato won’t exactly say it, his gaze lingers a bit longer than usual. But he ultimately won’t get it, because he wants to focus on you and also save up for when the group goes to Tartarus. So if you surprise him with whatever he had wanted, he’s so happy.

While he is slightly more reserved in comparison to Yu and Akira, Minato speaks through action. Whenever you two are walking together, he always has your hand in his, or keeping close by in some way. He likes to cling to you when it’s just you two, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you two nap tother, legs tangled up together. Or the small jokes he says loud enough for only you to hear, but they’re still so funny. Sometimes you’re asked if he’s really a good boyfriend, and you have to laugh off the doubt, because they don’t see the sides of him that you do.

My god. Yu would absolutely be the best at arranging dates and hangouts. I take no criticism. Like you guys could literally just be walking all around Inaba, or just sitting by the river bed and it could be one of the greatest times you’ve both had together. A romantic at heart, Yu would also be a bit cheesy in arranging dates.

He shows affection through communcating it. Whether it’s a new outfit or something, he’ll say that you look incredible or if you’ve studied for a hard exam, he’ll make sure you know how amazing you are for passing. Idk just anything that has you smiling from sweet compliments and other words of affirmation. A big sap, honestly you try and joke about it but he just earnestly says “Who wouldn’t be for you?” And you have to sit down and hide your face in your hands for a solid 5 minutes.

You also gotta be cool with Nanako. But then again she’s a cute kid and a sweetheart so idk why you wouldn’t be. Although he does get a little flustered if it’s you two watching her while Dojima-san is working late at the station and the old ladies coo over how you three look like a mini family yourselves. Which is kind of a common occurrence. And I feel like Yu would know pretty well if he sees a future with someone he’s with, and with you he does shhh

Date nights in Inaba are really fun and a good way to wind down, sometimes it’s wandering Junes and finding whatever the newly advertised, as seen on tv appliance is. Or other parts of the shopping district, where he can really let go and just have fun for himself. When not worrying about school work or the cases the Investigation Team is working on.

some spoilers here; but after Izanami is defeated and the year ends. When Yu has to leave Inaba it doesn’t mean that he won’t put his best efforts to keep up the relationship. If possible, video calls or just the occasional text too. And when he visits, while he does miss his friends, he’s especially antsy to see you too. And when you’re both together again, he refuses to leave your side.

Now, Akira can be described as this suave, casanova type character. But he’s also a giant dork and you know it, he knows it, the Phantom Thieves all know it, hell even Sojiro knows it. It doesn’t mean his attempts at flirting doesn’t get you blushing. And when he sees the flustered expression, it only motivates him to keep going. But turn the tables on him, and he’s putty in your hands. (And he looks very cute).

Because of the way you met, aka, at Shujin, where his reputation was basically over and done with before it even began, he has a lot of doubt and trust issues, what if someone dared you to speak to the “criminal” or something? While he won’t show these doubts out loud to his friends, it’s still something he thinks back on a lot. But when you defend him vehemently one day, he knows he was right to trust you.

A part of dating Akira, is eventually finding out who he is. Maybe trips to Mementos cause him to be late to dates or not even show up at all. You end up stood up more often then not once things begin to get really serious. From small time school teachers to the literal Yakuza (and eventually a candidate for Prime Minister, and a god), you don’t know where he is. And that becomes really stressful because then the doubt™️ sets in.

To make this less angsty and more funny, imagine you know from figuring it out. He’s suspiciously watching the news on the PT, and no offense to Ryuji, he’s not the most quiet. So he’s so nervous trying to tell you when you’re just “yeah I know, sorry for not telling you, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know.” and he’s just the surprised pikachu face.

As for date nights, the city is your oyster. I’d say the world but mans still currently has a criminal record so probably not yet. But he’s gonna take you wherever you want. Whether it’s a themed cafe, or just the streets of Shinjuku, as you take in all the sights from the bright places, he’s willing to do whatever for you. That includes facing off kids at the arcade for a stuffed plush you saw and admitted it was cute. He is a man on a mission. And you cannot stop him. So you both end up back at Leblanc at the end of the night carrying your plushies and eating some curry that Sojiro left warming for you. That even includes the Big Bang Burger challenge he will do it for you , even though you probably do laugh at his pain after but you still coo and praise his efforts.

After he goes back home, record clean and world hopefully peaceful. Virtual dates become a thing, either just sitting and talking while having dinner or something is nice. He still loves to say those cheesy pickup lines that had you hiding your flustered expression as you walked through the streets of Shibuya on call. You only hung up on him once but he quickly called back and was very pouty about it. You were forgiven though with the promise of giving many kisses when he visits.