#yet that’s very difficult when you have to work almost 7 days a week

[sennsational]

i’ve also been i guess lurking at my moots their themes and holy fuck y’all have some pretty amazing and aesthetic themes going on, like i am on my knees here 🛐

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .08

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, reader having a crisis, pregnancy, angst, probably slight cringe cause i've been sleep deprived and think everything good idea then, and most likely other shit i can't think of atm

A/N: apparently my body can't decide whether to write Kid or Kidd cause i wrote Kidd half way through this after spelling it 'Kid' in the last two fic's. So please bare with my stupidity

music playlist

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11

~~~

Even though you’ve been counting down the months to finally reach Sabaody, a part of you yearned for just a few more weeks with G-5. Now, with only three more days till you dock at the archipelago, the excitement is palpable. Time seemed to have a mind of its own, neither hastening nor slowing. They say time flies when you're having fun, and indeed it did. Four months dwindled to three, then two, and before you knew it, you were down to mere days.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone, to reveal the person you’ve become during the two-year separation. The anticipation to demonstrate your newfound devil fruit powers and everything Smoker and G-5 have instilled in you. To prove that you've earned the title of a Straw Hat.  That even in the face of pregnancy, you stand strong, capable of protecting yourself and your friends. You’ve toiled day and night to hone your abilities and devil fruit powers, all while nurturing the life growing within you.

Tashigi helped you in buying things that’d make your life a bit easier. Pregnancy pillows, maternity clothes, vitamins to keep yourself healthy, and everything in between. She even convinced you to write a journal for every day of your pregnancy. It did help a lot more than you thought it would. You wrote what you wouldn’t tell anyone else and how you truly felt about your situation that day. Some good and some bad.

A wave of emotions would often overwhelm you when something triggered memories of your time with Kidd. The echo of people calling your name, the rumble of thunder, all reminiscent of your time spent in the shadows. While you knew you’d never be the same person you were before Kidd, you have strived to heal from all the things that have transpired.

It wasn’t working very well, though.

Looking at any reflective surface has your heart shattering when your eyes land on the visible scars on your body. Trying to picture yourself without the scars was impossible as you struggled not to imagine Kidd in the image as well. It was almost easier to pretend you were born with your scars rather than think about the one that gave them to you. Even in everyday life, he'd pop into your head when you weren’t thinking about him. Closing your eyes, you still see his amber eyes staring right back at you.

Being alone with your thoughts always makes things difficult. If it were too quiet, you’d hear his voice whispering in your ear. Feeling his fingers touching your skin when you wore short-sleeved shirts was also common. Times when you were so close to slumber, you’d start to smell his presence. The only thing that seems to calm you down now is a tune your mother used to sing to you.

It had been sealed away in your memories for years, and now you managed to remember the words and tune after having a dream about her singing it to you. You watched her rock yourself as she sang the little song before tucking you in. Her face was a blur, but you could still hear her. At least you could still remember her voice. Yet when she stopped singing, you immediately woke up.

Since then, you’ve been subconsciously humming it when working around the ship. You remember getting embarrassed when Tashigi asked you what you were singing. When you told her that it was something your mother sang to you when you were a baby, she got stars in her eyes.

“You should sing to them! I heard it’s extremely beneficial to the baby!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your more invested in this pregnancy than I am, and I'm the one carrying the baby.”

“I heard it’s great for bonding and-” She stopped herself before she could finish. You knew what she was trying to say and that there was no ill will behind it.

“It’s okay. I know you meant well. Maybe if the situation were different, I’d be more excited. But I don’t want to get too close to them since I’m putting them up for adoption.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that. I guess I just got excited for something other than listening to men yelling and fighting.”

“No, I promise it’s okay! Things happen. You meant well, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the setting sun. The beautiful colors you memorize as you imagine sailing off with the Straw Hats. Happy laughter as you’d hear them tell their stories of their adventures from the two years you’ve been separated. You couldn’t wait to hear Luffy’s infectious laughter or see Robin's calming smile. Only three more days until you make it to Sabaody then-...

…What then?

You’d still be pregnant, on the run, and scared that any second Kidd’s going to show up and whisk you away. Even after you put up the baby for adoption, your body would still look pregnant for a while before going back to normal. Your body would wonder where the baby had gone and when it’d come back. How were you supposed to live life normally after this? Knowing that you have a baby out there that you’ll never get to see grow up. Always worry if they're safe and scared that Kidd might find them and use them as leverage to make you come back.

But at the same time, you couldn’t take them with you. The sea is no place to raise a child, let alone a baby. They could fall overboard, get kidnapped by Marines or rival pirate groups, hell, they could get ill at sea, and you wouldn’t have the medicine to make them better!

Anyway, you looked at it, it felt like nothing was the right choice. The negatives outweighed the positives in your head. It’s possible that everything you’ve experienced has made you an internal pessimist. That, or maybe you were just thinking logically. Either or, it still sucked.

“What are you thinking about?” Tashigi’s voice pulled you from your negative thoughts as she stood beside you.

“Everything and nothing at all. Three days, and then we’ll be enemies. Feels weird knowing that.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird not having you around. I’m gonna be stuck as the only girl once again.” You laugh a bit at her admission.

“If only we’d be able to call one another. But it’s too much of a risk in case any higher-ups were to find out.” Both of you sigh before turning to each other.

“Why do you have to be a pirate?”

“Why do you have to be a Marine?” The two of you laugh as you see the stars start to appear in the night sky.

“The stars are pretty, huh? Maybe we can find constellations if we look hard enough.” You can see Tashigi thinking out of the corner of your eye before her head perks up.

“What if we take pictures? Like a group picture? We’d be able to remember each other even if we can’t talk.”

“You're right! We can do it tomorrow morning! I heard it’s supposed to be sunny and clear!”

“Perfect! We can go around telling the other Marines about it, and they’ll all agree. Vice Admiral Smoker, we might have to convince or drag.”

“I think it’ll be worth the extra chores.”

~~~

As you lay in your bed once more, you look out over the multiple sleeping marines. In a few days' time, you’ll never see them again. If you do, then you’d have to fight them. Once you get back to the Straw Hats, you’ll undoubtedly have a bounty from the government. Then you’ll genuinely be ‘enemies,’ but the thought of hurting any of them made you want to cry. How could you hurt those who took you in, no matter who you were? They risked getting in trouble and put themselves in danger just for you.

Maybe if your forced to fight them, you could just run away? Usopp does it a lot, so why couldn’t you?

You move slightly to get more comfy, only to hear a ‘thud’ come from the side of your bed. Gently moving to the best of your pregnant abilities, you manage to see a particular journal that you haven’t read since the first week you met the G-5.

Heat’s journal.

Biting your lip, you mentally fight to figure out whether you should read it or not. After taking months to try and process Heat’s internal thoughts and the truth about your home, perhaps you were ready to read the rest of it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you manage to grab the book by the tips of your fingers. You bring it up just enough for your other hand to hold it. A slight pain rummages through your body as you try to bring it up. Thankfully, you manage to pull it up just enough to grab it with your other hand. Snuggling into the bed more, you use the moon as a light source to read the book.

Something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly, but whatever it was, put (Y/N) in the hospital on the island we’re currently docked at. No one but Killer and Kidd himself were allowed to see her. Doctors must have been in and out of that room when (Y/N) first entered.

I can’t see (Y/N) trying to kill herself. Not with the small determination I can still see in her eyes. It had to be something involving Kidd. If Kidd can put a hot metal branding on her, then I don’t think he’d be above doing something to land her in the hospital.

I’ve talked to Wire about his thoughts on what could have happened. He told me that while he saw nothing, he heard multiple thuds and yelling coming from beneath the deck. Immediately upon hearing that, a sour taste filled my mouth. I have to go down and see for myself the room Kidd has been keeping (Y/N) in. There has to be something down there that could tell me something.

Of course, Kidd didn’t want his crew to know he almost killed you. Typical. What did Heat say when he saw you come back from the hospital? When what was the starting time when you forgot your memories. Gently skimming through the pages, you found the entry you were looking for.

I don’t think my eyes have ever widened as much as they did when I saw Kidd and (Y/N) holding hands. There was a bright smile on (Y/N)’s face when she finally came aboard the deck. Her legs are wobbly, and it looks like she’s learning how to walk again. She had bandages covering her head. Behind her and Kid was a doctor along with Killer.

Obviously, somethings not right. (Y/N) or Kidd must have hit her head so hard that a real doctor is needed. While I know it’s a very cliche scenario, I think that she must have hit her head so hard that her memory fogged. And if that’s so, what lies had Kidd told her already? Maybe if I'm able to get the doctor alone, I can get some information.

So Heat saw you the day you returned to the Victoria Punk after the incident? You were shocked that Kidd didn’t bring you back to the ship during the night. But thankfully, he was too stupid, and it allowed Heat to see the first part of the aftermath in real-time.

You don’t remember the first week or two when you got back to the Victoria. Not the doctors or leaving the hospital. It was probably for the best, though. You don’t need any more trauma than you already have.

“What were his thoughts during those five months?” Looking back at the marines to ensure they were sleeping, you flip through the pages again.

Caught (Y/N) staring out to sea earlier before the night entirely took over. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, honestly. I felt like I was going insane trying to figure out how or if I should help her now. She looks so happy now, but at the same time, her happiness is based on lies and blood.

Why did this have to happen? What sins did (Y/N) do in a past life that made this her reality? One minute, she was living her life, then the next, she’s stuck in a storage room on a pirate ship. I try not to think how alone she must have felt before this incident. Always being stuck in the dark and only seeing the same people over and over again. Me talking to her can only do so much. It won’t bring back her parents or friends. Nor will it bring back her home.

It still eats me knowing that I’m the reason this woman has no one left. No friends or family. Well, there’s those Straw Hats she’s told me about.

I remember them from Sabaody. Their captain was a strange one, but it did seem like he cared for his crew. If he’s willing to risk his life by storming Impel Down and Navy headquarters just to save his brother, then I think if there is any place or pirate crew for her to be in, it’d be the Straw Hats.

Maybe if I mention Saboady, it’ll spark something and clear the fog that’s invaded her mind.

"If only you knew Heat. It was the thing that made me realize somethings not right.” For a Kidd Pirate, he truly was a fallen angel in disguise. While you’ll never forgive him for what he did to your home, he proved that almost everyone deserves a second chance.

Holy shit. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t run as quickly and quietly as I could in forever. Not to mention the underlying threat of getting caught giving (Y/N) a devil fruit.

Finding the damn thing was entirely on accident but a pain in the ass to bring on the ship without anyone noticing. Even stealing the fruit was a feat in itself. I don’t know how that fisherman found it or what he was planning on doing with it, but in the end, it’s going to a better cause. 

I managed to have (Y/N) eat it by luring her outside the dining hall earlier. When I watched her eat it all, it made a slight ease wash over me. At least now, she’d have a bit more of a fighting chance against Kidd if he did anything.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell her everything right then and there, but I was already pushing it by being so close to everyone, especially with Killer being somewhere on deck. I didn’t want to cause a scene and have Kidd freak out or anything. The longer he’s in the dark, the safer it is for (Y/N) and myself.

Honestly, I thought Killer would have knocked some sense into Kidd when he found out about (Y/N). I was obviously very wrong. 

“If anything, he was just as insane as Kidd. Fueling his crazed thoughts and obsession. I still remember that dumb conversation I heard between him and Kidd about boarding up the storage room.” It pissed you off more that if it weren’t for Killer’s mask, you probably would have put two and two together quicker. Facial expressions are everything. 

I caught (Y/N) staring at the sky again. Thankfully, Killer and Wire were on the opposite side of the ship, so I was finally able to talk to (Y/N) alone. She didn’t know what I made her eat initially, which shocked me. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to trigger it yet.

We both found out pretty quickly what her devil fruit power was, though.

I was trying to tell her that everything she knew about Kidd was a lie. That her life was a lie. I wanted to be more collected and calm about it, but how do you carefully say something like that?  It was hard seeing her eyes flash all her emotions, but it soon turned to pain when a harsh shock hit my hands. It felt like a burning hot pole went straight through my hands. 

It hurt like a bitch, but the pain subsided when I saw her looking at her hands. When I also looked at them, I saw electricity slither across her hands. I watched her put her hands together and was speechless when a ball of pure electricity formed. She started panicking when the ball was getting too big for her to control and starting to hurt her. I told her to throw it out to sea, and when she did, I felt like I was watching the moon shrink. It was so bright and slightly calming. The farther it went, the more at ease I felt. (Y/N) had a chance. She had a chance to defend herself and run away.

And I’ll be there to make sure she’s safe.

Tears fall profusely down your face, reading the last line. How can the world be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help, and yet he lost his life.

You go to read the next page only to see it’s blank. Feeling your throat dry, you start skimming through the rest of the pages, hoping to see more writing, yet there is nothing. It felt like your heart had been ripped directly from your chest. That was the last thing Heat has ever written, and it just had to be the most heartbreaking thing to read.

Curling up as best you can, considering your belly, you hold Heat’s journal close to your chest. You try your best not to sob as you don’t want to wake up the rest of the Marines sleeping next to you. Between sniffles and the slight shaking as you try to control your breathing, you whisper to yourself in hopes that wherever Heat is, he’ll hear you.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Another island was reduced to ashes after falling victim to Eustass Kidd’s wraith. A once lush and thriving island is now in flames and crumbling as the ruthless pirate searched tirelessly for a certain someone last seen there.

“God fucking damnit! When I get my hands on whatever Marines are holding her, I’m going to kill every single one of them! They’ll wish they never got involved when I break each of their bones!” Kidd’s voice boomed across the town as his amber eyes scanned everywhere.

Where are you?! Why aren’t you here?!

“Kid.” Killer’s voice breaks through the brute's rage, making him turn his head.

“What Killer?!”

“We’ve searched everywhere, and there's no sign of her. It’s not like we can ask anyone either since everyone has evacuated before we arrived.”

Ever since the incident on Halyard Island, as soon as your location was revealed in the paper, people would evacuate their homes to try to save their families and avoid the unstable tornado of destruction that was Eustass Kidd. 

Some people stayed because it’d been their home since birth, and they’d rather die than leave it defenseless. There have been rebellions to try to stop Kidd, but they were always snuffed out the moment Kidd saw them. The same could be said for any Marines that were sent to stop him. Getting sent on a mission to any island that you had been spotted at was a death wish. Sometimes, the Marines were too late, and Kidd had already destroyed the island. But when Kidd would see them, he wouldn’t let any Marines leave until he talked to each and every single one of them. And since none of them had you, none of them would leave the island alive.

Your name had become a jinx to any Marine that spoke it. Speaking your name would always have the Marine that spoke it sent out on the next mission to stop Kid from destroying yet another island just to find you. And since none of them had you, they’d never come back alive to say what they’ve experienced.

After being the ‘cause’ of death for so many Marines, some rookies have given you the nickname ‘Devil’s Darling.’ It was a joke at first, but as the death toll rose and how Kidd’s name got more infamous, more and more people adopted it. And with a nickname like that, more people have come to hate you.

While you haven’t done anything, the fact is that if it weren’t for you escaping, no one would have gotten hurt. If only you had bit the bullet, no one would have lost their lives. Many victims of Kidd’s rage blame you for it. Anger and fear take over the hearts of many, and to the civilians of the New World, you’ve become as feared and hated as the man hunting you down.

The government had become more conflicted on where to stand with you. While you were technically innocent, the people have been nagging them to put an official bounty on your head. If they did, you’d only be wanted alive. The power they could hold if they managed to capture you. You could be the key to finally catching and imprisoning Eustass Kidd.

And Kidd knew all of this.

He knew the hatred the people had started to hold for you. How they’d give you to him if they managed to recognize and grab you before you left the island. In a way, he had the whole New World in his hand. Their hatred and fear was and will be the town’s own undoing.

The only people stopping him were fucking journalists who don’t say or do a thing when they see you. They are so desperate for a story and to lead him on that they don’t care about how they’ve helped in the destruction.

“Of course, she isn’t here. Fucking hate those journalists and Marines.” Kidd kicked a smoldering piece of wood in anger. Ashes fly to the sky as it did nothing to soothe his rage.

They don’t understand that he needs you. He dreams of you every night. Dreams of you laying next to him and kissing his face. Some where you were holding his child, soothing them to sleep. Humming a small tune before noticing him and smiling. You’d say something to him, but he could never remember what it was when he woke up.

And while there were dreams, nightmares followed suit. Nightmares of you falling into the ocean and sinking to the bottom with your hand outstretched for Kidd to grab and save you. Or the times when you’d be running from Marines to him only for you to get shot as soon as he had you in your arms. The nightmares plagued him much more than he dreamt of you. He’s always had nightmares when you weren’t lying next to him. Ever since the first night you’ve slept with him in his bed, he’s never been able to sleep alone without waking up sometimes during the night. The warmth your body gave him while you slept, go thim addicted.

Those first few months you left and joined those damn Straw Hats, the same nightmare happened every night. It replayed the scene of you sailing away from him over and over again. No matter what, those months without you behind closed doors were pure hell for Kidd. You were just gone from his life after being by his side for a year and a half. He’d never get to kiss you or hold you close again.

But just as Killer tried to get Kidd over you, he saw you.

He was fighting a pacifista next to that dweeb Trafalgar Law when he turned his head, and there you were. You were running as fast as you could, and there he saw you. What you were running from, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that you were alone. No Straw Hats or Marines to take you away now. You were his for the taking once more, and this time, he’d make sure you knew it-

“Earth to Kidd!” Blinking a few times, Kidd’s pulled from his memories by Killer snapping his fingers in his face.

“I was thinking! What is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern? How each island she’s at, she gets closer and closer to the Navy Headquarters?” A pit filled Kidd’s stomach hearing Killer’s words.

“What are you saying, Killer? Spill it!”

“What if their taking her to the safety of Navy Headquarters? Or worse, Impel Down?” Kidd grits his teeth at the thought. No way in hell was he gonna let those fuckers take you.

“Any Marine ship we see, attack. Don’t care if they're not in our course. No Marine ship will get past the Victoria. Search every part of the Marine ship, and if she isn’t there, sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.”

“And the Marines on it?”

“Kill them all.”

~~~

“You wanted to see me, Vice Admiral? If it’s about the pictures we did yesterday, I have some here if you want to choose one.-”

“Sit. We need to talk.” Your heart stopped for a second, but you managed to snap back and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The way he sat in his chair behind the desk made you bite the inside of your cheek. When Tashigi told you that he wanted to see you, you were nervous. She said that while she didn’t know why he wanted to, you had no need to be scared.

Obviously, she was wrong.

“O-Oh? What about?” You can feel your palms sweat as the room seems to heat up.

“The government has finally put up a bounty for you.” Hearing those words come from Smoker's mouth made time stop as thousands of scenarios played through your head. Would he turn you in?

“But I haven’t done anything! Why do I have a bounty?!”

“You haven’t done anything. But Kidd has.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He’s been destroying islands, villages, and Marine ships nonstop. Anything in his path has become a victim of his rage. According to headquarters, we’ve lost a lot of good men to him. Rookies, Vice Admirals, and Admirals even have been killed. His bounty has tripled in the last six months. Wouldn’t shock me if it raises the next time the new bounty posters come up.” You were speechless. How many people have been hurt or killed because of you? So many deaths for simply living. This has to be a nightmare.

“I don’t understand. Why do I have a bounty for things he’s done? I’m not out here hurting people!” Smoker sighed before running a hand through his hair.

“They want to use you to lure Kidd so they can capture him. That and many people of the New World are treating you as much of a threat as kid himself is.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone! I hate Kidd as much as they do, so why do they hate me?...”

“Fear. Kidd’s insanity has caused fear to cover the entire New World. Seeing your name and last known location in the paper is a death wish for the island you were last seen at. I don’t know how these damn journalists keep spotting you no matter what disguise we put you in.”

“It’s like they’re actively looking for me. Why are they so determined to find me? People have been hurt, yet they don’t care!” Guilt starts to eat at you as the thought of countless people getting hurt because of your problems eats at your heart.

“First Heat…now this? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?” You whisper to yourself as you lay your hands on your thighs before gripping your pants tightly. Tears start to whelm in your eyes as you bite your lip. The images of people's faces you’ve never seen before start to pop up in your mind as if to make you suffer more. The survivor's guilt already consumed you after Heat’s death, but now, with having so much more ‘blood’ on your hands, the pain was unbearable.

“Heat? Where have I heard that name before?”

“He was a crewmate on Kidd’s ship. He’s…no longer with us.”

“A Marine kill him? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Kidd Pirates getting sent to Impel Down.”

“No. Kidd did.” Even though you spoke between sobs, SMoker still managed to catch your words. He was stunned to hear such a thing. Killing his own crew? If he can do that without remorse, what else is he willing to do?

“He helped me escape the first time I was stuck with Kidd. He undid the chain that was connected to a collar Kidd had me wear and told me to run. When he saw that I had gotten captured again, he tried to help me again, but…”

“But?”

You ran as fast as you could around teh deck to try and find Heat and Kidd. In the dark, the whole boat felt like a maze. Each passing second was an eternity. How can you find them in time?

“Your fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t notice how you're trying to play hero! At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you let her go the first time. But now, when everything’s good, you're trying to ruin it!” Kidd’s voice rang in your left ear, making you stop in your tracks.

“What are you talking about Kidd? Are you drunk or something?”

“Don’t play dumb! You know damn well what I’m talking about! Your telling (Y/N) shit she doesn’t need to remember! Telling her things that’ll ruin what I’ve worked so hard for! She’s happy, and you want her to be sad?!”

“That’s not happiness, Kidd! Her ‘happiness’ is based on lies! I know I’m not the greatest person. I have skeletons in my closet, but what you're doing is insane!” Hearing Heat bite back makes you dash towards the two voices.

Just then, a few loud thumps accompanied by a cough echoed across the deck. A bang was soon heard right after, and it only made you run faster. When you finally made it to the source, your horrified to see Kidd with his back facing you and a bloody, jagged knife in his hand. In front of him, you see Heat on the deck with his back leaning against the railing. Red starts to seep through his clothes, as you can hear his breathing become erratic. You watched him cough harshly and see droplets of blood shooting out from his mouth.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, Heat. I won’t let you ruin this for me. If only you had minded your business, then none of this would have to happen.” Heat gives Kidd a strong glare before laughing at him. His teeth covered in blood as he smiled at Kidd.

“She’ll find out. It may not be by me, but your house of cards is crumbling, Kidd. She’s gonna find out whether you like it or not.” You can hear Kidd crack his neck at Heat’s words.

“Not to mention, she and the rest of the crew are gonna wonder what’s happened to me. How are you gonna explain that?”

“I can just say you fell overboard. Since your a devil fruit user, you’ll sink to the bottom. The crew will believe it, and so will (Y/N).”

“Doubt it. She’s not stupid, Kidd. She’s gonna remember everything that’s happened. Her home, friends, family, and everything you’ve done to her, she’s gonna remember. And when she does, I’ll be laughing in hell.” You watch Kidd charge at Heat with the knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“No!” Running from your hiding spot, you jump in front of Heat. Despite the fear that coursed through you, you spread your arms out to a T so you can protect him from your knife-wielding lover. Your arrival brought silence among the three of you.

“(Y/N)...” Glancing back to Heat, you see the shock in his eyes. Your heart bleeds as Heats breath becomes more ragged with each second that passes. 

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?! You need to get away from him! He’s working for the Marines! He’s a traitor!” Biting your lip between your teeth, you try not to cry as your lover lies directly in your face so casually. 

A strong, familiar tingling feeling circulated through your arms and legs as you stood in front of Heat. Buzzing rings in your ears as the feeling grows stronger as you anticipate Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you! He’s going to hurt you, it’s not safe next to him.” Looking into Kidd’s eyes, you stand yoru ground and still stand in his path. You can feel your heart race as he reaches out to you. The feeling of his fingertips from his real arm just barely touching your wrist before a loud ZAP could be heard echoing across the Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Kid recoils his hand back and tries brushing it against his red feathered coat. The buzzing of the zap still ringing in your ears as you quickly turn your attention to Heat. You're quick to start inspecting him for more wounds but can only see one. A stab wound dangerously close to the heart but at a perfect position for it to be in the lungs. While Kidd missed the heart, he managed to puncture a lung which could be just as fatal. It also explains the coughing up of blood.

“Heat! Hang on! Everything will be okay! Just give me a second!-”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers?...” You stutter as you try to figure out a lie to say. Yet, you watch Heat give Kidd a bloody smirk. From that, it didn’t take long for Kidd to put two and two together.

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!” Your heart almost stops completely as you see Kidd stomping towards the two of you. The way his face looked so sinister made it feel like you were living another nightmare.

Quick to jump to your feet again, you place yourself between Heat and Kidd. The buzzing continued, and you watched as electricity slithers around your arms and legs, helping you give off a threatening aura.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Kidd!” Despite the electricity covering you, Kidd still reaches out. Just as you watch him reach for your arm, he changes direction and grabs your hair. With a harsh tug, Kidd throws you behind him. Your body hits against the hard wooden deck with a ‘thunk.’

You can feel the air being knocked out of your lungs as tears prickle your eyes. As you struggle to get over the pounding in your head and the ache in your body, you hear Heat cough harshly again. When you open your eyes to look at the two men, your eyes widen in horror as you watch Kidd hold Heat up by the throat. Lifting him to his feet, you see Heat struggle to get Kidd’s metal hand off his throat. 

“Enjoy the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings that’ll feast on your corpse, will ya?” Jumping to your feet despite still being dizzy, you dash towards Kidd and Heat. But just as you took three steps in, you watched as Kidd threw Heat against the railing, making him tumble over it and fall off the boat. 

Running to the railing and praying that he’s simply hanging on, your hopes were crushed as soon as you heard the heartbreaking sound of water splashing. Leaning over the edge to see if you could throw him a rope, you only had time to see bubbles rising to the water's surface before Kidd grabbed you by the hair and began to drag you away.

“Kidd found out about it. My devil fruit powers wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t for Heat. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long I would have been stuck with Kidd and his web of lies.”

“How long has it been since his death?” While he could see that this was obviously a sensitive topic for you, perhaps if you spoke about it, it might loosen whatever burden his death has caused.

“A week had passed after his death when you guys found me. So, as long as I’ve been here plus a week.” Letting out a hum, Smoker continued to listen.

“It’s all my fault…If only I had been more careful then maybe he’d still be here. He’d still be alive instead of at the bottom of the sea.”

“I watched Kidd kill him. I saw Kidd kill the only friend I had and there was nothing I could do about it!”

‘That explains a lot. There’s a lot more layers of trauma she hasn’t told me or Tashigi about. If there's something that traumatic she’s keeping to herself, what else could be going on inside that she’s not talking about?’

“There are times when I feel like he’s haunting me. I see him sometimes in my nightmares. Or times when I’m leaning against the railing and go to look down at the sea only to see Heat standing beside me. But when I go to check if he’s really there, it’s always an empty space. I’ve caught glimpses of him staring at me through the crowd. People walk back and forth and I see him staring at me. But then somebody walks in front of him, and then he’s gone!” Smoker watches as your body shakes and tears begin pouring down your face. You grip your uniform pants even harder as you try to stabilize yourself as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Every time I see him, I don’t see the Heat I know. I see him as a corpse. No matter what he’s always just staring at me with lifeless eyes. It always looks like he’s…”

“At the bottom of the sea?”

“Yeah. Down there.” A minute os silence passes before SMoker speaks.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for his death. From how much you’ve told me, it sounds like he knew the risks that came with trying to set you free. That he’d be putting his own life in danger to help yours. Do you think he’d want you to feel guilty for a sacrifice he was willing to make?”

“No.”

“Then don’t blame yourself for something that someone did of their own free will.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” While Smoker knew a single sentence wouldn’t fix all the trauma Heat’s death had obviously caused, he supposed it was better to get it off your chest. With Heat’s death, along with the people Kidd’s hurt in your name lingering in your mind, he can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you.

~~~

Today’s the day. According to Tashigi, you guys should be at Sabaody before 3 pm. After months of training and pregnancy, along with your time with Kidd, you’ll finally be able to return to the Straw Hats.

It feels unreal. Almost as if it’s a dream. Yet, the dangers of Sabaody didn’t slip your mind. Bounty hunters, potential civilians willing to hunt you down, and the navy waiting to use you as bait. All odds were against you.

You did know the sunny was docked at tree 41, so maybe you could have G-5 bring you close but not too close to the sunny? The closer you are to it, the safer it’ll be for you. Well, you and the baby.

Not a second goes by where it’s not on your mind. Any time you move, you have to be cautious you don’t hit your tummy on anything. Eating foods became a test as foods you used to love, you now despise. Now, you're studying foods that are healthy for the baby and what’s not. Anything an over-paranoid pregnant woman does, you did. Even though you're gonna give up the baby for adoption when the time comes, you are gonna make sure the baby is healthy. 

There was a nagging feeling that ate at you whenever you were alone. Sometimes, you could feel the baby kick whenever you tapped your belly purposefully or on accident. It was as if they were responding to you. If they could feel the vibrations from a simple tap, could they also hear you talk about not wanting them? Even if six months old, what if? You knew it was impossible for them to understand you, but the nagging feeling never went away. 

Maybe when you reunite with the Straw Hats, that nagging feeling will fade away.

~~~

Another art thing. not really proud of it but it is what it is

[brian-in-finance]

Inside Hello, Goodbye • Part 3

🧵 Outlander_Starz: The wedding wasn't the only moment tugging on heart-strings this episode... Roger meeting his father Jerry was so bittersweet and filled with emotion.

The actors had a challenge: acting in 10°F weather! Said Director Jan Matthys, "The temperature helped Richard get to that emotional level... What I've learned in Scotland is you'd better embrace the temperature and weather and use it in the scene. It's special effects. The condensation from breathing... that adds to the heroic atmosphere."

Jerry's costume not only established his character as an RAF pilot, but helped Roger and Buck track him down as they locate parts of his uniform on the road.

Military plane cockpits at this time were very cold, so while Roger and Buck found Jerry's uniform jacket, pilot's helmet, and leather helmet, we still find him wearing a woolen sweater and leather jacket with lining, which were standard issue for pilots in those days.

🧵 Outlander_Starz: The Errochty Stones that Jerry goes through mark yet another set of iconic standing stones for Outlander! See some of the original renderings below.

🧵 Outlander_Starz: Because Outlander gained access to working dam sites, shooting time was limited. That meant that the scenes of Brianna in the tunnels in Part 1 and Jemmy in the tunnels in Part 2 were actually shot at the same time.

The dam site was incredible... Jemmy goes through a similar journey to what Bree went through. So we really shot it one for one. I'd go in, we'd shoot the sequence, l'd come out. Blake would go in, shoot the sequence, and come out. We'd watch each other to replicate what the other did...

It was freezing in there and very dark but beautiful actually. The way that they have it lit almost looks like fairy lights... It was a great place to see. It was very different for Outlander. — SOPHIE SKELTON, BRIANNA MACKENZIE

🧵Outlander_Starz: Can we give it up for Blake Johnston-Miller and Rosa Morris, who play Jemmy and Mandy this season? Hear from Director Jan Matthys and Sophie Skelton about what it was like to work with these stars in the making.

The key to working with kids is to make it playful. They have a natural tendency to play. To be very honest, I still have it as well... Blake, who plays Jemmy, we actually did sort of an acrobatic act together at the end to celebrate our collaboration. With Blake... I could raise the bar and ask him for difficult things... For Rosa, I made it very playful and brought her literally into that playful world. It's more stealing moments. You have to be very flexible as a director....

Sophie is key in that collaboration. She also finds a way to get the best performances out of the kids. She becomes like a co-director in these moments. — JAN MATTHYS, DIRECTOR

I've had so much fun with Rosa and Blake this season... It's such a lovely feeling and so rewarding when you see these kids who first look at you like you're a complete stranger start to really trust you...

There was a scene when Brianna goes into the graveyard in Season 7, Part 1. There was one take where Rosa tripped on a pebble and fell. The chaperones are there, who she trusts. Her dad was there. But she ran to me. And it was so sweet. She didn't want to do another scene. She was just crying on me for ages. So I was like, "Shall we tell off the stone?" We said "bad stone," hit the stone, and wiped her tears. I asked, "Better now?" and she said “Yeah, let's do one!" They're just such great kids. We are very fortunate. — SOPHIE SKELTON, BRIANNA MACKENZIE

🧵 Outlander_Starz: That's a wrap on this episode's "Inside Outlander!" See you here next week for more. In the meantime, hear even more insights from our cast and creative team:

Inside Hello, Goodbye • Part 3 of 3

Threads 🧵

Remember… what I've learned in Scotland is you'd better embrace the temperature and weather and use it in the scene. It's special effects. The condensation from breathing... that adds to the heroic atmosphere. — Jan Matthys, Director

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 14)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Age-Gap, Infidelity, Smut

Words: 4,566

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9; 10; 11; 12; 13

Six weeks later...

Six weeks had passed since you moved to Los Alamos, and, at least for now, life was good.

Kitty Oppenheimer had not contacted her husband, Robert, lately as, unfortunately for her, her mother had fallen ill, which prevented her from visiting Los Alamos, which you and Robert were not particularly upset about.

You spent almost every day at the laboratory, working on and researching a plutonium implosion device that was not, at least officially, approved by Robert yet as he tried hard to juggle some conflicts amongst the scientists.

There was some dispute between them, and most believed that an implosion device was too difficult to establish, so Robert asked you to research whether a reaction like the one proposed by two scientists was even just a remote possibility.

Of course, you quickly learned that it was. There was a slight chance that an implosion could work, but you could not achieve anything further without vast research funding, which he now tried to obtain.

As such, Robert knew about your work and handed the theoretical papers to you on a silver platter after you came up with a scope on how a reaction may be achieved before telling you to treat your research cautiously as it involved the handling of plutonium.

Robert was very protective of you, which some of the others in the experimental department soon became aware of, joking that, perhaps, his great mind had fallen under your spell.

As such, you had quite a few admirers on site, and, ironically, this included another scientist named Klaus Fuchs, who moved to the States from the UK as part of a team.

Klaus Fuchs, to you, appeared like a strange guy. He was somewhat odd and introverted, and if it weren’t for Lilli, who reminded you that physicists are strange creatures, you would have become suspicious of him.

Suspicion, however, was also something that you were subjected to regularly as, since your arrival, you were interrogated by Officer Nichols weekly. Officer Nichols was interested in your liaisons on site, and, for some reason, he was also interested in your relationship with Dr. Oppenheimer, which, by now, had gained some attention even from your acquaintance, Lilli.

Lilli had noticed that you were barely at T-101 and would, most nights, not come back to your room at all. She assumed that you were seeing someone and, having taken a liking to you, she told you to be cautious.

“Don’t liaise with army officials and don’t liaise with any of the married scientists,” she cautioned you, and you promised her that you would not. This promise, though, was a lie, and this lie was not something you were proud of.

You wanted this lie to end now that you had what you thought you never wanted. You had found love, and this was something you did not expect.

Spending time with Robert every night made you feel good, and it was not just the sex you were interested in anymore as, most nights, you would listen to music, read poetry, or sit in silence for a while.

His house was comfortable, and you could come and go at your leisure, and although you still had to hide your relationship from others, it felt natural when you spent time with him at his cottage. He was right when he said that, on occasion, it would be just him and you, and it was those moments you spent together, in his bed, in his bathtub, or even just on his lounge, that made you feel special.

Every night you spent with him, he called you ‘my love’ and told you how much you meant to him as he finally considered divorcing his wife Kitty once all this was over. Until then, he wanted you to promise that you would stay with him and support him through this, and, of course, this was a promise you were willing to make.

You were prepared to walk through fire for Robert, and he was very much prepared to do the same for you. He said that, in you, he had found his soulmate and equal, and even though you could see that, just after a few months of working on the project, he was incredibly stressed; he was also very committed, not only to you but also to end the war.

***

The war was a topic that came up amongst you and others regularly. It was a topic of great concern, and since everyone knew what the team was working on, talking about the end was not considered an issue.

“After the war, what will you do?” you asked Robert on another stormy evening in Los Alamos while snatching the cigarette from his mouth and resting your feet atop his lap. As usual, you were sitting on the lounge with him, completely naked, while listening to the force of the rain against the windows and sipping on martinis.

“After the war, I will take you to France,” Robert told you, caressing your feet, causing you to squirm.

“To France?” you asked, chuckling slightly, and he knew you were ticklish. “Why France?” you wanted to know just as Robert’s lips met the naked flesh above your breasts.

“Well, France used to be a nice place which is more than suitable for me to propose to you, yes?” Robert told you, which caused you to chuckle.

“Propose?” you asked, surprised, before caressing Robert’s hair as he gently kissed your breasts.

“Yes. I want to marry you” Robert murmured against your naked flesh, and you pulled him up on his hair, making him look you in the eyes.

“To marry me, you must first divorce your wife, so until then, I will not accept your proposal anyhow,” you pointed out sternly, causing Robert’s deep blue eyes to widen.

“As I have told you, I will divorce Kitty when this is over,” he told you, and you wanted to ensure that he would keep that promise.

“You promise?” you thus said as, slowly, his lips moved upward toward your neck and then your ear.

“I promise, my love,” Robert whispered into your ear before outlaying the rest of his plans, which included for you to finish your research on dark matter and obtaining your Ph.D. while Robert was working at another institution, teaching what he loved the most, namely quantum mechanics.  

“This sounds too good to be true, Robert,” you told him before pulling him on top of you as he continued to kiss and bite your neck gently.

“We will make it true. Just you and me,” he said before descending downward toward your stomach again for the second time that night.

***

“Robert, you just came inside me. You can’t possibly go down on me again” you moaned as Robert’s lips descended even further until they reached the area above your mound.

“Yes, I can,” Robert interrupted you before he lowered himself between your legs and put his mouth on you, and you thought you might die from the wrongness of it.

“Oh, Sweet Jesus, that’s so deliciously inappropriate,” you moaned wildly when you saw Robert’s head moving between your legs, and the sheer perversity of it just flat-out did it for you.

“Nothing about our relationship has been appropriate thus far, my love. Now spread your legs wider,” Robert ordered as your body began to quiver with need, your thighs longing to wrap around his head and pull him further into you.

To Robert, you tasted like peaches, and his cock pressed against the sofa, hardening again as he buried himself in your sweetness.

As he worked your body with his mouth, tongue laving between your wet folds, he thought he could be happy just staying here and doing nothing but taste, drink, and suck on your flesh.

But in the end, he needed and wanted more and knew he would not have long to wait. Your whimpers were music to Robert’s ears, and he knew that, soon, you would cum again. Just like that. And you did, within mere minutes. 

The sweetness of your combined juices flooded his mouth as you came hard, within as little as five minutes after he had started his ministrations. Your body was shaking and quivering as you submitted to your lover helplessly while finding pleasure in this somewhat taboo act.

“Oh god, please,” you moaned as Robert slid his tongue inside you and felt your body quiver again.

“Yes, my love,” he teased after he pulled it out again and then sucked hard on your clit, spiralling your pleasure into multiple waves of ecstasy.

Your eyes were filled with tears, and the orgasms Robert was giving you were always so intense that you barely managed to cope. It felt like a cascading waterfall of pleasure that dashed you against the rocks repeatedly... your body felt utterly wrung out. You were exhausted and, as he pulled himself up, lips glossy with the nectar from your body, you knew that your night was not over yet. Staring down at you, his eyes dark with a hunger that had increased with every minute, you felt excited again and demanded more.

“Fuck Robert, I need you inside. Please,’ you begged as Robert kneeled between your legs without losing time.

“Someone needs to teach you some patience, my love,” he determined as you felt something pushing into you again. It was one of Robert’s fingers, and your body quivered in response. You were so sensitive, your nerves so stimulated, from all the rapture he had heaped upon you, that just that one touch was enough to give you an aftershock of that pleasure. Another finger slid inside you, and the two began pumping in and out as you squirmed and adjusted to this second invader.

“Jesus Robert. Please,” you moaned. Eventually, Robert began pushing a third digit into your body, and you whimpered with need.

“God, you are incredibly sexy like this, sweating and moaning,” Robert told you as you closed your eyes against his hot gaze, focusing entirely on the things he was making you feel, on the sensation of his hand inside you.

Then they were gone, and there was movement on the lounge. You opened your eyes just in time to see him watching your face as something thick, velvety, and hard pushed against your core. Finally.

‘Fuck, yes,” you thus moaned as you tried to look down your body, but then your head fell back as Robert's hips moved, your insides splitting open again to accommodate his cock with one swift thrust.

You cried out. The sensation was intoxicating. It was an exotic pressure that began working its way into your body... then out... then in... you gasped and struggled, not to stop him exactly... but because you couldn't help yourself. Your body wanted to pull him closer, to touch him, run your hands through his hair. You did not know where to feel him first as his meaty thrusting continued, his eyes on your face, reading every expression, every nuance in the wrinkle on your brow, the flutter of an eyelash.

‘You feel incredible,’ Robert groaned as he couldn't believe how exquisitely tight you still were. How wonderfully wet. Beautiful, even with tears on your lashes from your previous orgasms and your lips parted wide with arousal.

Inch after inch, he sank deeper inside you, claiming this territory for his own, spreading it around him. With every movement, you gripped and squeezed his length as your body was naturally massaging his cock, without any effort.

Robert could feel the slight movements in your hips and, as he slid home and fell on top of you, buried his face into your neck and enjoyed the incredible sensation of being balls deep inside you. You made small sounds in your throat, and he kissed your neck. Underneath him, your body rolled a little, and he moaned against your shoulder as your insides clamped down on him, squeezing him tight and fast.

‘I love you so incredibly much,” he moaned, and his hips started to move immediately. He tried to be gentle and move slowly, as much as he could force himself to. You just felt so damn good.

“I love you too, Robert. Fuck” you moaned as Robert's parts were fused with yours, and, as always, it felt incredible.

You felt stretched, full, and that hunger was back. How it was possible you could want another orgasm, that there could be anything left in you to come again, was incomprehensible to you, but it was true, and he managed to get this sensation out of you every time. Your entire body shuddered as Robert began moving, his cock pushing in and out of you like his fingers had, but going so much deeper, spreading you so much wider.

As Robert pushed himself onto his hands, looking down at you, the angle of his entry changed, and you cried out more loudly. He was hitting that excellent sweet spot again that made you tighten up and stoked the fire that had already been rekindling.

Lowering his head, Robert took your nipple into his mouth, sucking it deep into his mouth, and you felt it like an electrical line straight to your pussy where he was hitting deep inside of you. His thrusts were becoming more brutal, faster, and you whimpered as your body was fuelled by pain and pleasure.

Robert could feel that he was going too fast for you, but it was so hard to slow down. Gripping his emotions and body tightly, he forced himself to ease down on the pace, slowing the thrusts... but he made up for it by grinding himself against your spread wetness every time your bodies came together. Your body relaxed and then tensed. His cock bounced up and down inside of you, massaging the walls of your pussy, shoving itself as deeply into you as he could. And, as you had whenever sleeping with him, you responded, a convulsion suctioning down on his cock, sucking him deep inside you. God... your already taut sheathe tightened even more, and he groaned as your body pulled at him. He rubbed against you, watching you whip your head back and forth in ecstasy. The eroticism of the moment was raw on his nerves. Pushing harder, grinding faster, he prided himself on the wail from your mouth as you came all over his cock.

And then he was lost in sensation as your spasming pussy nearly undid him. Releasing a growl from his throat, he let himself go, finally and inescapably.

You sobbed your rapture, the overwhelming crash of your orgasm shattering your body and taking you to new highs as Robert began a bruising pace, shoving himself in and out of your body as you writhed in ecstasy beneath him. You were completely open to him, and the sensation became almost painful in its sheer power as he bore down on you. And yet, it felt incredible, and you screamed, sobbed, and writhed, your body a mass of explosive bliss that seemed never-ending. When he suddenly stopped thrusting and held himself inside you, something deep within your core pulsed, and your back arched, your insides squeezing and milking him as your pleasure culminated, and you passed out for a moment.

When you opened your eyes, the hardness between your legs was softening, and you could feel his cock changing inside you. Robert was kissing your neck, your forehead, and then your lips.

You still whimpered, sucking deep breaths of cool air, your lungs heaving beneath him. He was such an incredible weight on top of you, encompassing you. Robert gave you a few moments to breathe, and then he leaned in and caught your swollen lips again with his, pressing his tongue into you. This time the kissing was different. Softer, more intimate. Less demanding. You kissed him back, pushing back against him, and he shuddered on top of you, his hips thrusting forward again, and you cried out into his mouth with pleasure as a shiver of that delightful culmination shivered through your again. Your body squeezed, and you felt him leave you.

“God, I can’t believe that there is more inside of you,” you joked after taking a deep breath and feeling his cum leak from your rather sore core.

“You have no idea, my love. I can keep going if you like,” Robert teased, and seeing that you had sex every day since the day you arrived at Los Alamos, you politely declined the offer.

“This body of mine needs a break, Dr. Oppenheimer. Despite that, we should probably get some rest, wouldn’t you agree?” you asked while Robert kissed your neck again, unable to stop teasing you.

“Bed then?” he murmured against your skin gently.

“Yes. Bed, Robert,” you told him while trying to push him off you playfully before sitting up straight suddenly as a bound of nausea overcame your senses.

“Again?” Robert asked, seeing that, during the past week, you were not feeling right. You had been nauseous on occasion and you also had been tired.

“No, I am good. I think,” you told him with the nausea passing quickly as you gulped down some water and the rest of your martini.

“Perhaps rest is what you need after all. Come,” Robert told you before gently pulling you up from the sofa and walking towards the bedroom.

***

Robert laid down next to you in bed, stroking your sweat-dampened hair back from your face. You looked up at him with eyes half-lidded, sleep threatening to take you.

“You are tired a lot lately. Are you all right?” Robert asked, seeing that, in the past two weeks, in addition to nausea, you had needed some extra sleep and even declined two dinner party invitations which, at least for Lilli, was absurd as she was hanging for an invitation herself.

“I am fine, Robert. Don’t worry,” you reassured him while allowing him to caress your body; being one of the most divine feelings in the world.

“I would like you to get seen by our medical staff. You work with plutonium, and I am worried about you,” Robert told you while embracing you in his arms.

“Stop, Robert. I am fine. It is probably just the heat, making me a little tired and nauseous,” you told him reassuringly, cupping his face, before explaining that you adhere to all the safety precautions when handling plutonium.

“If your tiredness and nausea persist for another week though, I will insist on an appointment with Doctor Jeffreys,” Robert lectured you nonetheless, and you nodded.

“Yes, boss,” you teased him before, eventually, giving in to his embrace and closing your eyes.

[james-a-b]

the TATINOF experience

ok so. i've wanted to make a post about this for a While now; i feel like a lot of people don't really understand or appreciate how unprecedented TATINOF really was, and for me, watching it in Seattle in 2016, it was the best day of my life.

So here we go.

(I've put the rest below a readmore bc this is an 18 paragraph post lmao)

On March 26th, 2015, Dan and Phil revealed TABINOF via a trailer set in the distant future. The book itself was not entirely unprecedented- other youtubers had written and were writing books, but for the most part (at the time) these were either fictional works or serious biographies; TABINOF was a time capsule of Dan and Phil's youtube brand, and a glimpse into parts of their lives we hadn't seen yet. (For example; Phil's hamster breeding adventures) But tucked into the pages of the book in the trailer were a pair of tickets to The Amazing Tour Is Not On Fire. This was insane. No youtuber had ever gone on tour before, save perhaps for a few musicians; no one had done a stage show. No one knew what to expect.

And, as they asked the audience of each show not to share spoilers, most of us went on not knowing what to expect until we'd seen it ourselves.

I saw the show on June 18th, 2016, near the end of the US leg of the tour. I went in knowing three things:

There were set ways in which we the audience could participate: there was Crafty Corner, Weird Kid, Phone Support Hotline, and a 7 Second Challenge submission box. (I submitted art to Crafty Corner, and I was thrilled just knowing they'd see it)

The set was a giant microwave. What this meant, I could not imagine.

Everyone who'd already seen the show said it was incredible.

I remember having had a dream that I was at the show like a week before it actually happened, and I woke up just as the show was about to start in the dream because my brain couldn't come up with anything they might do onstage lmao.

I can't even begin to put into words how incredible the atmosphere was before the show even started. Phannies were lined up for two blocks outside the theatre, and I'd never felt so welcome anywhere in my life. The doors opened. I believe Cornelia was working the merch stand pre-show, though I don't remember for sure- I got a signed copy of TABINOF and then I took my seat.

The set was incredible, and the pre-show playlist was amazing. Everyone sang along to every song, and when Troye Sivan's Wild came on, everyone screamed. Seriously, if you've never looked at the pre-show playlist for TATINOF you should. Finally, All Star by Smash Mouth played. Everyone was singing along, and laughing because of course Dan put that in there, and then, halfway through the song, the music stops and the lights go out. Everyone screamed, and the opening sequence began to play on the microwave. I understand why they opted to edit that directly into the beginning of the recording, because it would've been a little difficult to see in the recording otherwise, but at the same time it hit so much better when it played directly on the microwave.

And then they came out on stage, and they were so much more awkward than I expected. Dan kept squatting slightly, like he was trying to be shorter, and Phil moved almost like a marionette. They said their hellos, and then they addressed the microwave being there, and the plot started to become apparent- Phil had microwaved his laptop.

I'm not going to get into too much detail on every bit of the show, because I've already written about eight paragraphs and I could write about twenty more going play-by-play through every aspect of the show, but that's not the point of this essay, so I'll attempt to keep things at least a little shorter than that.

The first truly unprecedented thing was when Dan said they were "having a bit of a domestic" when Phil said he couldn't get off the lion. This was the very first time they'd come anywhere near addressing the elephant in the room (their relationship) publicly since the V-day vid. Obviously, compared to the things they've said in 2024 (we've never fucked on youtube, etcetera), "we're having a bit of a domestic" is incredibly tame, but this was huge. Everyone screamed.

And then, shortly after, Phil started singing, and everyone screamed much louder. They did little songs all the time in baking videos or while playing the sims, but this was different. This was on stage, with a spotlight and everything. It was not a surprise to me when Dan cut Phil off; I thought the song was for sure a joke, that there was no way they'd come back to it (spoiler alert, they did).

And then there was the 7 Second Challenge bit, and Reasons Why Phil Was A Weird Kid, and Uncle Dan's Phone Support Hotline, and the PINOF 75 bit. And it was all weird and crazy and amazing. But the next thing I really want to focus on is Fanfiction Live.

Fanfiction Live was... absolutely insane. My show chose cowboys on the moon, and the script they wrote for it was.... so undeniably gay? Like. "Should Phil draw Dan like a French girl"? Are you kidding? This really happened???? They wrote this in 2015. Four years before they came out. This was so far beyond unprecedented. This was unthinkable.

And then, immediately following this insanity, they began Smashing Plates and then they were like "IT'S DIL" and by this point i was hoarse from screaming but when I tell you I screamed...

And then Dil said all those things about Dan feeling like nothing he did was worth anything, but that it meant a lot to Dil and to the audience, and that Phil felt like he had to change who he was to please others but that we appreciated him for who he is... I melted. It was a moment of such genuine honesty, and they'd saved my life, and I loved them so, so much.

And then Phil started singing again, and Dan didn't stop him, and Dan started singing too, and the song was so them, ironic yet genuine, and I was out of my mind because I couldn't believe they were Singing On Stage like that, like, they were youtubers. Not professional singers. No one asked or expected them to go that far. But they did it.

it was the best day of my life.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 8

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 7

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Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, smoking, smut, fingering, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, squirting, mentions of commitment

Word Count: 5.6k

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Part 8: Two of Hearts

Wednesday, March 22nd, 1989

A couple days have gone by, and you're spending the afternoon studying on the couch. Books and flashcards are splayed out all around you, and you're deep in concentration. Eddie has stayed over every night so far, but he has a shift almost every day this week so he always has to leave after breakfast to go home and change. The clock on the wall tick tick ticks the minutes away, you prefer the absolute quiet when you study. Music helps with assignments for some strange reason, but it's nothing other than a distraction when you cram for exams. It's like you're compelled to sing and dance along to the music, which makes it difficult to pound information into your head.

Mom called again this morning, just for a short check-in. She figured telling you all the details of how much fun everyone is having would just make you upset, which isn't an unfair assumption. She sounded far less sad on the phone than she did on Monday night though, so she kinda clued you in to all the good times you were missing out on anyway. You try to not let it bother you, focusing on your flashcards. You struggle to stay on task however, your eyes darting to the phone on the table in front of you every so often. Chrissy hasn't called back yet, and with each passing day, you worry she never will. You bite your lip, wanting that phone to ring so badly. You're startled as Eddie comes walking in the front door, breaking you out of your anxious trance.

"Honey, I'm home!" He says in a sing-song voice, kicking off his shoes. You turn your head to meet his gleeful smile, and he slowly makes his way over to you. He leans down, planting a warm kiss to your lips. "And how's my little bookworm doing?" He asks, looking you over. Your hair is in a messy bun atop your head, and you're still in pajamas as you don't have anywhere else to be today.

"I'm alright, my brain is absolutely fried, though." You pinch the bridge of your nose, a stress tick Eddie has taken notice of over the last few weeks.

"Well, how 'bout you take a small...study break? We still haven't tried out your present, ya know. I'd have half a mind to be offended, if we haven't already been fucking like bunnies." He bites his lip, stroking your cheek to tempt you. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, you may have been looking forward to Eddie coming home for a very specific reason.

"I suppose I can call it a day, I've been at it for hours. Clearly, I can't absorb any more vocab words or facts about mitochondria." With that, he helps you mark your place in all your books, and binds your flashcards in a rubber band before handing them to you. "Thank you, darling." You stack everything neatly on the coffee table, not planning to open anything back up until Eddie leaves for work again in the morning. You stand together, unable to resist draping your arms around his shoulders as his hands grip your waist. They quickly find their way to your ass, squeezing your flesh roughly through your shorts. "Did you miss me that much? You've barely been home for five minutes and you're already copping a feel." You giggle, teasingly poking the tip of his nose with your tongue.

"Sorry for making you wait, I'd planned on doing it as soon as I walked in the door." Eddie kisses you hungrily, breaking apart a moment later once he's stolen your breath away. He looks deep into your eyes, enchanting you as your heart begins to race. "And to answer your question, I always miss you. Every second we're apart, I just wanna come running right back." His lips capture yours once more before you can respond, lighting that familiar, primal fire in your belly. You clumsily walk backwards down the hall to your room, bumping into the walls multiple times as you don't want to stop kissing for a single second.

You stumble into the bedroom, letting Eddie push you against the open door. His hands grope your chest, teasing your nipples through your shirt. He lowers his head to mark your neck with love bites. "Fuck, Eddie. I need more, and I need out of these clothes." You whine as his teeth bite down on your skin harshly, tugging on his thick locks. He groans against you, meeting your eyes.

"Anything you want, princess." He replies breathlessly, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms, allowing him to remove it with ease. Your tits bounce as they're freed from the thin fabric, making his eyes boggle. You lift his own shirt upwards, trying to strip him down too. He helps you take it off, discarding it to the floor. He tries to start attacking your breasts, but you reach for his belt to keep undressing him. "Someone's getting ahead of herself." He quips, just watching as you frantically unzip his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers, kicking them off his feet. As he does so, you remove your shorts, exposing the rest of your perfect body to him. You glance at his hardened cock, noting the precum gathered on his tip. "See something you want, angel?" He asks, standing very close to you again. His erection pokes against your stomach, leaving a wet streak on your skin.

"I want you inside me so badly, baby. You wanna feel how wet I am for you?" You say seductively, batting your eyelashes at him. He reaches a hand between your legs, his breath hitching as his fingers meet your slick folds. You moan at his touch, leaning against the door as he continues to stroke you. You take his length in your grip, pumping him at an agonizing pace. He groans, eyes burning into yours as you continue to touch each other. "You said something about testing out my present? You wanna grab it for me, Eds?" You speak as innocently as you can, taking your hand off of his dick.

He just nods, grinning as he always does. He's been waiting for this moment for at least a week. Ever since he first hatched the idea, he's wanted nothing more than to use every single page in that little book. Eddie quickly grabs the box from your bedside table, placing it in your hands. You bite your lip eagerly, opening the box and taking the booklet and D20 out. "Do you want to roll it on the dresser? I figure there's more space for it to move properly that way." You heed his advice, the two of you standing in front of the chest of drawers and watching your reflections in the mirror. Eddie stands behind you, holding your hips gingerly.

You set the book down, holding the die in your palm. The glitter inside it catches the light, as if to tell you just how much it longs for you to finally use it. You conceal it in your hands, holding them together tightly as you shake it. Eddie's eyes are trained on you, observing your every move. You let the die clatter to the surface below you, watching it turn on its sides frantically. Your heart pounds in anticipation, waiting to see what the die will land on. It slowly bounces to a stop, and you gaze at the number displayed before you. Fifteen. "I was hoping you'd get that one first. Wanna open the book to see which one it is?" His lips brush against your neck again, heating up your skin as he speaks to you.

You take the book in your hands, flipping to the fifteenth page. Your eyes widen at the illustration he drew for you, with the title 'Siren's Song' in elegant script at the top. "Oh, my God." Is all you can manage to say, before whipping around to face Eddie. He's about to say something smart when you smash your mouth against his, clashing your teeth as you desperately shove your tongue in his mouth. You put your hands on his bare chest, leading him to the bed. The backs of his knees hit the edge, causing him to fall onto it. His lips part from yours, and he leans back on his palms.

"Shall I get in position, love?" He asks, grinning at your lustful expression.

"Yes, please." You reply, almost whining. The image from the book has set your insides ablaze, and you want to try to imitate it as best you can. Eddie sits on his knees with his legs pressed together, holding his arms out for you to join him. You climb onto the bed, turning your back to him as you straddle his thighs. Your legs spread wide and bend at the knees on either side of him, and his cock is resting against your ass as you press your back to his chest. Eddie's right hand grips your hip, while his left reaches around you to rub your clit. "Eddie." You moan, letting your head fall backwards as sensation begins to take over. His fingers continue to wind you up, he's taking his time.

"I love it when you say my name, baby. Your noises are so beautiful, and so fuckin' dirty." His breath fans over you, turning you on further. You just want him to fuck you already, you're feeling painfully impatient. It truly doesn't take much for him to get you going, especially when you're about to try a brand new position. His fingers slide into you with ease, brushing against your g spot. You moan right into Eddie's ear, feeding him every little sound to make his dick twitch. It seems to work, and he fingers you faster. He wants to rev you up to a point where you're begging him to fuck you. The pitiful tone of your voice when you plead is so intoxicating. "You like it when I finger you, slut? Do you want more?" He speaks lowly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he teases you.

"You feel so good, love. But I want your cock inside me. Please?" There it is, those magic words he's been waiting to hear. He takes his fingers out of you, sucking them clean between his lips. He moans at the taste, and you just watch in awe of him. You lift yourself up, letting Eddie drag his length against your clit and needy hole. He positions his tip at your entrance, leading you to slowly sink down onto him. You moan together as he fills you up perfectly, and your cunt hugs him just the way he likes.

"God, you're so tight, baby." Eddie grunts as he's fully sheathed inside you. You're taking a moment to adjust, this is an entirely new angle for you. His tip is kissing your cervix, he feels deeper than he's ever been. "Take your time, sweetheart. You're in full control here, whenever you're ready." He coos at you, kissing your neck lovingly. His hands sit at your hip and your breast, stroking you gently as your insides relax. You gradually lift yourself up, before sinking right back down onto him.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, reaching behind you to hold Eddie's neck for support. He's so close to you, you can feel his heartbeat in your back. This position is surprisingly comforting to you, he's letting you control your pleasure while keeping you safe in his embrace. You see now why he hoped you'd roll for this one, it's simultaneously mind-blowing and intimate in the best possible way. "I love you so much, Eds. Thank you again for the gift, it's really amazing." You turn your head to kiss him deeply, clenching your walls around him to emphasize your words.

He groans at the squeeze, his breath shuddering when you break away. "I love you too, Y/N. And I'm glad you like it. I wanted to make it as special as I could for you, because you're so important to me." He kisses your cheek, squeezing your waist to coax you into riding him. You take the hint, lifting up once more to sink back down again. Another cry of pleasure rips from your throat, and you begin to bounce steadily on Eddie's cock. His hands continue to hold you with gentle support, and your movements on him draw many noises from his lips as well. Your ass smacks against his thighs, the sound mingling with the harmony of moans filling the room.

A heavy knot is forming within you, balling itself up tighter every time you land on Eddie's lap. "God, this feels so good. You're so deep like this, baby." You love telling him how everything makes you feel, you've never been so vocal in bed before he came along. Hell, there's lots of things you've never done before until Eddie brought them out of you. It's crazy when you think about it, he's managed to completely change your life in so many ways. You genuinely like waking up every day, when you used to dread having to face the world until you could retreat to your bed at night. You're truly happy, something you never thought you'd be. And it's all thanks to the man currently sitting underneath you as you ride him like your life depends on it.

Your bodies are soaked in sweat from how close you are to one another, and your breath comes out hot and labored. The knot inside you is wound up so tight, threatening to snap as Eddie's cock hits all the right places again and again. He's not far behind you, his hair clinging to his face as he peppers your neck with kisses between moans. "I love it when you ride me, baby. You're such a good little slut for me. Are you getting close, angel?" He speaks lowly, pushing you closer to the edge with his filthy words.

"I am, Eds. You fill me up so well, it's so fucking good." You bounce on him even faster, wanting to lose control so badly. He groans into your neck, biting it harshly as his stomach tenses. His hand leaves your chest, rubbing your clit in quick circles. "Eddie! Oh, God! Keep going, just like that!" You moan so loud, oddly worried about someone hearing you. But then you remember you're all alone in the house, refocusing on the task at hand. Your walls flutter around his length, signaling your fast-approaching release.

"Cum for me, princess. Be a good girl. Fuck!" His own high overtakes him, his hips bucking upwards a couple times as he paints your insides with his load. He continues rubbing you, and you keep riding him as hard and as fast as you can. Eddie knows just how to send you toppling over the deep end, grinning as he puts his lips to your ear again. "You wanna know why I named this one 'Siren's Song', Y/N?" He purrs. You just moan in response, signaling to him that you definitely want to hear whatever it is he has to say. Small waves of pleasure begin to wash over you, you're almost there and his final words are sure to take you where you need to go. "It's because these pretty noises you make could lure any man to certain death. And I'd happily let you lead me to mine, love." He chuckles darkly as he bites your earlobe, ignoring how overstimulated his dick is as you've kept up your pace to get yourself off. He gently pinches your clit between his fingers, sealing your fate.

"Oh, fuck!" You scream as your orgasm takes you over, Eddie holds you steady while your legs begin to shake. You pulsate around him, making his breath stutter. Your arousal soaks his cock, spilling out onto his lap beneath you. Your head has fallen completely backwards over his shoulder, helpless noises tearing themselves from your vocal chords. He watches meticulously as you fall apart, memorizing every sound, every twitch of your thighs, the absolutely fucked look on your face. Your body goes limp, letting your pleasure subside as you struggle to catch your breath.

Eddie holds you close, his arms wrapped snugly around you to keep you from falling over. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. He plants delicate kisses on every inch of flesh he can reach, pulling you back to reality. Your sweat has turned cold, but his embrace stops you from shivering. "Did you enjoy yourself, darling?" He asks, helping your head sit upright.

"I really did, baby. It was amazing." You sigh contentedly, feeling the blood rushing from your head. You let Eddie capture your lips in a tender kiss, pulling away a moment later. You slowly lift yourself off of his cock, small whines leaving your mouths until his length falls limp in his lap. You stand off the bed, almost stumbling as your legs feel like the bones are missing. He tries to reach out and help you, but you wave him away. "I got it. I'm gonna get a towel to clean us up." You regain balance, waddling over to the linen closet. You're feeling a little sore, cursing yourself for going so hard.

"You okay, love?" He asks from the bed, sitting as still as possible to keep the pool of cum in his lap from spilling everywhere. He can't help smirking as you walk awkwardly, it is a bit silly. But concern soon takes over, and he’s worried you’ve pushed yourself too far.

"Yes, Eddie." You reply, a little annoyed. You know he just cares about you so much, but you don't need him doting on you all the time. You go back to the bed with the towel, trying to walk as normal as possible so he'll stop worrying. You wipe yourself down first, wincing when the towel touches your overworked cunt.

"Baby, you don't have to lie to me." He says quietly, not wanting to argue with you. He just hates seeing you uncomfortable.

"I know, I'm not lying. I'm fine. Maybe I went a little too hard, but I'll bounce back. I'm not made of glass, Eds." You toss the towel to him, and he catches it against his chest. He stares at you a moment, before deciding to accept your answer. You insist it's not a big deal, so he'll drop it. Eddie dries himself off, standing to discard the towel into the hamper. He digs around in the dufflebag he left in your room for some clean pajamas, slipping into them as you retrieve some of your own. 

Eddie notices you putting your shirt on easily, but struggling to step into your shorts. "Sweetheart, let me help." He tuts, almost pitying you as you try and fail to get them on.

"Alright." You sigh, frustrated that you need his assistance for something so simple. He kneels down, holding your shorts up. You rest a hand on his back so you don't fall over, putting one foot in after the other. He pulls the garment up your legs until it's resting at your waist. "Thanks, baby. Maybe I'm not as 'fine' as I thought."

Eddie stands again, pulling you into a firm hug. His head rests on top of yours as he holds you to his chest, and you embrace him just as strongly. "You gotta be more careful, princess. I like rough sex as much as the next guy, but you can seriously hurt yourself if you don't take it easy. And we don't want that, do we?"

"No, my love." You reply, muffled against his shirt. He places a kiss on your head, loosening his grip on you to look you in the eyes. You smile at one another, sharing a chaste kiss. You nuzzle against his chest, stroking your arms up and down his back. You're tempted to stay like this forever, safe in Eddie's arms is your favorite place to be. But your stomach has other ideas, growling loudly for some dinner.

"You hungry, angel?" He asks, chuckling quietly at the sound. You nod against his chest, not wanting to let go. "C'mon, love. We can cuddle once you've eaten something."

"You might have to carry me, unless you wanna see me waddle like a penguin." You look at him again, flashing your best puppy eyes.

"I dunno, that would be pretty amusing..." He smirks, teasing you. You beg harder with your eyes, pouting your lower lip. You truly don't want him to laugh at you, it's embarrassing to be so helpless. "You're impossible to say no to, you know that?" He rolls his eyes playfully, scooping you into his arms. You sling your own around his neck to hold on, cheering as he gives in to your request so easily. You love when Eddie carries you, it makes you feel like a princess. Which is fitting, since he calls you that so often. He clearly loves it too, he'll do anything you ask if it'll put a smile on your face. He carries you effortlessly to the kitchen, setting you down gently on the countertop. "How's a pb&j sound?" He asks, turning around to take the raspberry jam out of the fridge.

"Sounds perfect." You chirp, your stomach rumbling in agreement. You watch Eddie as he moves about your kitchen, easily locating everything he needs to make the sandwiches. He's certainly made himself at home, and you can't help but love him for it. The two of you being alone in the house is great, you can have as much sex as you want at whatever volume you like. But it's also like you're practicing what it would be like to live together. The thought alone of sharing a house or apartment with him sends your heart aflutter. A space all your own, full of love and happiness. It's every girl's dream, right? You wonder if Eddie has a similar fantasy, but it's much too soon to ask such a thing.

"If I had a dollar for every time you spaced out, I'd be a fuckin' millionaire, babydoll." Eddie startles you out of your trance, the image of you two picking out furniture dissipating from your mind. He smiles kindly, pushing a plate closer to you. He’s cut the sandwiches in half, and even put some baby carrots on the side. You realize that almost every meal you've had with Eddie has been a bit juvenile, reminding you how young you really are. Maybe too young to even imagine living together anytime soon. "Something wrong?" He quirks an eyebrow at you, curious as to what exactly you were dreaming about this time. Though he doubts you'll tell him.

"Sorry, it's nothing." You try to laugh it off, taking a carrot from your plate. His eyes don't leave your face, prompting you to speak further. "Alright, if you really wanna know, you can't get weirded out. Okay?"

"I won't, I promise." He replies seriously, putting a hand over yours. His warm touch calms you, lifting some of the weight from your thoughts.

"Well, I was just noticing how familiar you're getting when you're here. You know where everything is, basically." You say, watching his expression change to one of further confusion. "What I mean is, having the house to ourselves, it's like we're living together almost." You bite your lip nervously, unsure how he'll react to that.

"Yeah, is there something wrong with that?" He’s almost offended, thinking you don't want him to be familiar with you and your home. But that couldn't be further from the truth.

You shake your head. "No, of course not! I really enjoy it, actually. I was thinking about what it'd be like for us to have our own place, picking out furniture and putting up photos of us on the walls. Cuddling in our own bed, in our own room, in our own apartment or house. It just sounds so nice, but I'm not in a rush to do that, or anything. I was just...dreaming about it." You can't help smiling and blushing wildly at the idea, which makes Eddie's heart soar as he watches you react to your own words.

"You really see us doing all that?" His tongue plays at the edge of his lips, and he picks up half of his sandwich as he waits for your answer. He does want a future with you, a lot sooner than you'd think. But he doesn't want to put you in a weird position, and he himself is unsure he'd be able to provide for you. He can barely keep his own shit together, let alone afford an apartment. You mean everything to him, but he doesn't know if he's even good enough to ask you to take any further steps in your relationship.

"Well, yeah. But I mean, not right now." You insist. "Because I also thought about how childish we still are, we eat like teenagers for Christ's sake." You gesture at your plates to emphasize the point, giggling at how silly it is. "Plus, I'm still in school, and you have Wayne. Not to mention, we've only been together what, three weeks?" Eddie nods, his face saddening a bit. It's a little surprising that he actually wants to commit to you, take care of you the way you deserve. Guys are typically pretty flighty about this kind of thing. God, he really is the sweetest man you've ever met. You hold his hand, regaining his attention. "But I love you, Eddie. And when the timing is right, and we have a real plan, we can do whatever we want. Okay?"

"Okay." He replies, moving to stand between your legs for a moment. His hands rest on your waist, and yours go to his shoulders. "I love you, Y/N. More than I can ever truly put into words." He gazes at you so intensely, it almost frightens you. You don't think he's ever been this serious before, not even when you've gotten hurt or made him angry.

"C'mere, loverboy." You smile, leaning in as he's about to kiss you. When your lips meet, it's like a promise is being made. A vow, if one wants to get technical. Electric currents of adoration and devotion flick between you, binding your hearts together in a bond you hope never breaks. You speak with your tongues as they tangle in each other's mouths, saying 'I'll do everything I can to make you happy, my love' in this kiss that seems to last forever. Joyful tears flow calmly from your eyes, mingling together on your cheeks as you continue to hold one another close.

You pull away to breathe, resting your forehead against Eddie's with your eyes closed. You stay like this for a while, tears still falling silently onto the floor and counter beneath you. You feel so strongly for him, you can't imagine being with anybody else. And time after time, Eddie has proven he feels just the same for you. His hands leave your waist, gently wiping your tears away. You open your eyes, sitting up straight to look at him. He's smiling at you, so bright and kind. You return the sentiment, reaching up to dry his face with your fingers. "Hey there, princess." He says quietly, not wanting to disturb the calm energy in the room.

"Hey." You whisper back, letting your hands rest in your lap now. You look at the plates on the counter, remembering how hungry you still are. "You wanna finish dinner, love?"

"Yeah, much as I enjoy kissing and crying, we might need to have actual food every once in a while." He laughs, and you join him. Eddie hands you your plate to hold, and he hops onto the counter to sit beside you. His shoulder rubs against yours, he can't go a moment without touching you in some way. You finish eating in contented silence, and he puts the empty dishes into the sink for you once you’re done. "Do you still need me to carry you, princess?" He asks, standing beside you expectantly.

"Please." You grin at him, holding out your arms while making grabby hands. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck, before lifting you off the counter. Eddie carries you back to bed, setting you down carefully. You lay your head on the pillows, gazing up at him lovingly. "So, it's not very late just yet. Did you maybe want to help me make my D&D character?"

"I was just going to suggest the same thing." He grabs your starter kit from your dresser, putting it beside you. Before sitting down, he digs out his own D&D materials and splays them out on the bed. He sits cross-legged next to you, and you mirror his position. "I figure I can show you how to fill the sheet out and let you read through the book to decide what you'd like to play as. I also need to start working on the next campaign, I'd like to have it ready by the time the kiddos come back from their trip. I'll try not to be too sadistic with it, since you'll be playing. But I'm tellin' ya now, I'm only gonna do that once."

"Well, I appreciate that, darling. I'd hate for you to take it easy on me just because I'm your girlfriend. That wouldn't be very fair, now would it?" You smirk, opening the starter box to examine the contents. "Besides, I've got to prove myself if I'm going to be the 'Queen of Hellfire'." You open up the manual, setting to work reading the races and classes within it to see which ones sound like a good fit for you.

"That you do, baby. I have no doubt you'll be more than worthy of the title, and again, not just because you're my girlfriend." He chuckles, leaning over to kiss your head before opening his notebook. The two of you spend the next couple hours working on your individual projects, though Eddie happily answers any questions you have. He also gives suggestions as to what race or class might suit you better, and which abilities you'd find most useful. He's so glad you're genuinely interested in playing this game with him, he wasn't sure you'd be all that into it.

When the clock reads 11:30pm, you can't hold back the massive yawn that spills from your lips. Your character is complete, sans a sketch that Eddie insists he'll draw for you. You pack everything away for the night, standing on your own for the first time in hours to open the bedroom window. You and Eddie lean out of it, sharing a smoke before you go to bed. He's got work again tomorrow, though you always beg him to call in sick every day. He always tells you he would if he could, but his boss doesn't take kindly to sick days. "Your boss sounds like a real asshole, Eds." You say as you have every other time you've asked him to stay with you.

"He certainly is, Y/N. But, I kinda need the money. Not everyone gets the luxury of going to college and having everything paid for by their parents." He doesn't mean this as a slight against you, it's just a simple fact. You do have a privileged existence, and you don't pretend not to.

"I know, love. If we could switch places, I would. You've always had to work harder than everyone else, and you still end up with less. It's not fair." You can't help feeling bad for him, though he doesn't seem to mind all that much.

"No, it's not. Some people have more money, more opportunities, more power. That's just the way it is. But it's not like I'm miserable. I have you, don't I?" He nudges you with his shoulder, almost making you drop your cigarette.

"I know, I'm not trying to make it sound like being poor is bad, or something. I just love you and care about you so much. I want to give you everything you want, because you deserve it." You look at him as you inhale a long final drag. You flick the butt away, letting the smoke flow slowly from your lips.

"But I already have everything I want." He replies, smirking at your widened eyes. "What? I have you, and the club, and my uncle. I've got a van that gets around just fine, and a decent enough job. I've got clothes on my back, a place to sleep, and enough food to eat. What else does a person need, hm?" He tosses his own cigarette away, pulling you into him by your waist.

"Well, I feel like an asshole when you put it like that." You joke.

"No, I get what you mean, sweetheart. You're just expressing how much you care for me, it's sweet. But no matter how much or how little I have, it doesn't mean a thing as long as you're in my life."

"You're such a romantic little shit sometimes, you know that?" You giggle quietly, and he chuckles too.

"Yeah, well, you've definitely touched my once-cynical heart, princess." He gives you a gentle kiss, too tired to heat things up again. "Let's get to bed, angel. We both need rest." He says softly. You nod, going to the bed and slipping into the covers. Eddie removes his shirt so he won't get too hot, before flicking the lightswitch and climbing into bed beside you. He pulls you close to spoon you, his long arms wrapping you up just right. "Goodnight, my love." He whispers, kissing the back of your neck.

"Goodnight, Eds." You reply, closing your eyes as sleep overtakes you.

To be continued...

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Eight

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 11438 Rating: General Summary: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date... Content Warnings: Smooching 👀, alcohol consumption. Author's Note: I was going to post this on Friday but just didn't really feel right after the news, but I'm very happy to finally share this one with you! Big chapter for our dear reader and Din's story together as their relationship to each other reaches a new stage. Next chapter is equally important and she also earns a nickname from Din which is very cute 🥺! Can't wait to finish editing and share that one, too! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again to @suresnips for being my beta. Your feedback is always so helpful and appreciated ♡

7. Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]

Usually, when a new season of The Mandalorian began filming, Din would feel thoroughly invigorated by the process. Donning his precious beskar’gam and using the expertise he had accumulated through all of his training in the ancient Way to perform stunts helped him feel in touch with his roots. It helped Din to feel connected to the people who had taken him in when he was a destitute orphan, found wandering the streets. Yet, the beginning of filming for the third season had not brought such emotions forth within Din. Instead, he felt rather drained by the entire process. 

As he sat there in the back of the car that ferried him the short distance to and from the studios daily. Din was grateful that it was almost the end of the week for his patience was running thin. The shoot for the first episode of the third season of The Mandalorian was drawing to a close, ending in a climactic final act with plenty of fight scenes for Mando. Fortunately, since the day at the zoo, he had felt slightly more settled mentally than he had on the day when he was constantly missing his cues and was sent for an early lunch. The clarity the conversation by the penguin enclosure had brought had calmed his mind, and now he knew with certainty that nothing was standing in his way from attempting to claim your heart. 

Despite how well the shoot was going for the most part, there was a certain curly-haired co-star who seemed determined to get on Din’s last nerve. The constant questions and teasing from Peli about how the flowers had been received and the outing to the zoo had been amusing at first, but now they were beginning to irritate Din. Although he cared for Peli a great deal and was always grateful for how much she cared about him and Grogu, sometimes she could grate on Din’s nerves. The talkative, eccentric woman was someone Din knew that he could always turn to for advice, yet he also found that sometimes she could be a little overbearing and eager to give her advice in situations where it wasn’t even necessary. 

Din could not wait for tomorrow evening when he had arranged what he thought was the perfect proper first date. Finally, the two of you would be able to spend time together, no work, no zoos, and no toddlers. He wished that time would speed up so that Friday evening would roll around and he would finally be able to be in your presence again. Although there were not too many miles that separated you from each other and despite having exchanged phone numbers, things had been too hectic to take advantage of that fact. To Din, you could have been on the other side of the world entirely rather than only a few minutes drive away.

It wasn’t that Din didn’t want to text; he did, more than anything. But doing so was a risk. What if you asked a question that he could not easily answer? Din knew that it would be incredibly difficult to continue small talk via text, given the gravity of the secret that he was keeping. How could he possibly say he was just about to beat up an entire platoon of Praetorian Guards if you asked what he was doing at work? No, he had to be tactful about how he handled this part of his life. Din would never outright lie to you, but he knew he had to obscure the truth from you. It was a line, however, that he was struggling to tread. The guilt had been eating him up inside, but Din knew this was for the best. He had to protect himself. Din hoped you would not take his lack of frequent texts as rudeness, or a sign that he was not keen on you. In reality, it was entirely the opposite. 

With all the physical fight scenes that were present in the season finale, Din needed to be focused and on the top of his game. Despite the clarity that your outing to the zoo had brought, focusing on a fictional fight scene was complicated given the numerous complex emotions he was currently dealing with. For one, he had not been able to stop thinking about the time the two of you had spent together at the zoo the previous weekend. Since he had met you, Din was experiencing feelings that he had been convinced that he would never feel again. Not after Omera, the woman that Din had come so close to allowing himself to fall for before he realised that their ways of life would ultimately prove incompatible. 

Din still found that his mind occasionally drifted back there, to Sorgan, the idyllic village where he had laid low for a couple of months with work. Memories of the beautiful woman, with her long black hair and kind brown eyes, flickered through his mind. Din thought fondly of her, of how diligently she had taken care of him for the short time their paths crossed when his work liaising with law enforcement to root out organised crime gangs had taken him to Sorgan. Coincidentally, it was during that very same job that Din had encountered Grogu. Indeed, the boy had only been in Din’s care for a matter of days when he had been tasked to gather intelligence in that picturesque farming village where he had come so close to leaving his nomadic lifestyle behind and finally putting down roots. He had agonised for the first few months over whether his decision to leave had been the right one. Although it had hurt greatly at the time, now with time separating him from Omera and Sorgan, Din knew that his decision to leave unquestionably was the correct one. Especially when the call with the offer of the role of The Mandalorian came through only a few weeks later. 

Since Omera, Din had lived such a solitary life that he had almost forgotten how incredible it felt to enjoy someone’s presence as much as he enjoyed the evening at the museum and the day at the zoo with you. Din knew that deep down, complete solitude was not entirely what he wanted for his life. But it was just how things had turned out, he had made his peace with that. Until you came along.

Before then, Din had been pretty content to isolate himself. It had just been him and Grogu in the peaceful cottage that he had just returned to after the long day’s filming, Grogu already asleep in his arms. Although Din usually relished the quiet evenings with his son, he was quietly glad that filming had overrun and Grogu had fallen asleep as soon as his tiny frame had been secured in the car seat. There would be no dinner and bath time tonight; instead Din carried his sleeping son upstairs, grateful that Iggy had already changed him into his pyjamas once the filming had looked likely to overrun so Din did not have to disturb him. Din placed Grogu gently under the covers, tucking him in and leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Grogu,” Din whispered into the silent baby monitor before he grabbed the baby monitor and made his way downstairs. 

With Grogu asleep, Din was struck by the stillness of the cottage. It was dark and soundless. Usually, Din savoured his downtime, the moments he spent alone, away from others. Yet, for the first time since he had moved here, Din began to contemplate another’s presence here. He wondered how it would feel to have you here, in his orbit… in his home. How well you would fit in amongst the stunning scenery, with your beauty. Evening walks with Grogu, returning to the cottage where the two of you would bathe him before you cooked and ate a meal together at the polished wooden dining table. Then you’d cuddle on the couch together, Din holding you tightly in his arms and nuzzling into your hair.

Din shook his head and moved into the kitchen to prepare some food, almost disgusted with himself for how carried away he had just gotten, his imagination running wild. Such a thing could never happen, at least not until Din was more certain that he could trust you with his secret. For his cottage, with all of its proximity to the studios, was certain to provoke a line of questioning from you that he would be unsure that he could answer without breaking his vow of honesty to you. 

Truthfully, the depth of his emotions had terrified him. Intimacy like this, actually wanting to be in the presence of another was a new sensation for Din. After so long spent in solitude, it was going to take some getting used to. Din had been alone for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt to feel like this.

Din had partly kept to himself because he viewed his life as much too complicated to allow someone else into, feeling that it was unfair to involve someone else with how unpredictable and nomadic his lifestyle was. There was also Grogu to consider, especially with the attention and stability that the little boy required taking absolute precedence. Yet, deep down, Din knew that he was terrified of getting close enough to someone in case the day ever came when he lost them. Losing his parents at such a young age left scars deep within Din that he was struggling to overcome even so many years later.

Of course, Grogu had begun to slowly but surely break down the emotional walls that Din had erected around himself. Until he had found the little boy in the attic on that fateful day, Din had not realised his capacity for love. Now, though, another presence in Din’s life was beginning to chip away at those walls with all of the light and warmth you had brought to his life. 

Din was attracted to the way you looked. But to him, your beauty went far further than merely skin deep. He found himself more able to relax in your presence in a way that he had not around others for a long time. Despite how much he knew you loved the show – after all, it was the reason he had crossed paths with you in the first place – somehow, it was easy to forget the burden of his secret in your presence. Din was so mesmerised by your intellect and how good you were with Grogu, how patient and kind you were to the little boy despite his nervousness and emotional outbursts. Anyone whom Din Djarin was going to fall for had to care for Grogu, too. 

All feelings of awkwardness that Din had felt over bringing Grogu with him to meet you at the zoo had dissipated the second that he had seen you. Din had been fearful of the way that his son’s presence might be misconstrued as a lack of interest or viewing the outing as purely platonic. But you had not had that reaction at all. It had been the complete opposite, you had welcomed Grogu’s presence and been so attentive when the little boy had shown signs of being upset in the frog exhibit. The kindness that you had extended to Grogu in the museum had continued even when you were not being paid to show it, something that had relieved Din immensely. 

Seeing you interact with Grogu had awakened something inside of Din, he was feeling strong emotions that he was not sure he had ever experienced at this intensity before. Time spent with you strengthened Din’s instinct that somehow, he just knew that you were right for him and the way you were seamlessly slotting into his life with Grogu was surely proof of that. Din had not spent much time with you but already he knew that the bond with you was something special, something that he had been searching for for a long time. With you, he felt like he finally had found a part of him that he had not even realised he was missing.

That realisation of how quickly you had become so important to him both scared him and excited him in equal measure. Din had to keep reminding himself that he had to maintain some distance and not let you in completely until he had told you the truth.  Yet, it was just too easy to let his guard down around you. Although he feared the repercussions of his secret being revealed, never seeing you again was simply not an option. That was why he had enlisted Fennec’s help to plan what he hoped would be an ideal first date. 

Given the circumstances behind what was – to your knowledge, at least – the first time Din had crossed paths with you, he figured that there was no point attempting to hide the benefits that his job came with. It would have been a pointless endeavour, considering that you knew his bosses had the financial capability to allow them to rent out the British Museum for just him and Grogu. So, rather than shying away from that fact, Din exploited that benefit to organise a date that he was sure would go down a treat and allow you to look at your favourite painting without the mindless tourists that you so hated. 

Din knew that with the date he had planned, he was opening himself up to conversations about how it was possible. But it was a risk he was willing to take. Besides, if you ever alluded to his work Din, planned to say that he had signed NDAs – which was not a lie. It was an easy way to get around any hypothetical questions. Not that you had ever really questioned him on text this week, even when Din had told you he had a busy, draining day at work. Your replies had just voiced concern and hope that he would have some time to relax, rather than pushing for details. Din was relieved that you seemed perfectly content to be in the dark about specific details about his job. Though Din thought that you perhaps would not be so laid back if you knew exactly what it entailed. No, he was sure that you would suddenly have boundless intrigue about what it was like to be The Mandalorian. 

Your easy-going nature meant that Din had felt even less troubled about leaning into the privileges that came with his mysterious line of work. So he had enlisted the help of Fennec to arrange something he was certain would mean an awful lot to you. Organising such a date had even been worth the playful ribbing from Jim that Din had received when the two had passed in the corridor. Din was grateful that his helmet had hidden the blush that swept over his features when Jim had remarked: “It must be someone special, first the flowers and now this.” Jim was right of course, the person Din was seeing was very special.

Thoughts of how the date would go raced through Din’s mind that night as he lay in bed. He was excited to see how you would react to what he had planned for your evening. But he was also anxious to see your reaction when he revealed what he had planned for your date. Above all, Din was hopeful that the spark that had been evident in your encounters so far would continue when it was just the two of you. Din’s mind took longer than usual to switch off, but fortunately, it was not an issue as he was not required on set the following day. The late night of filming meant that the morning session had been postponed until the following week and Din was not required on set in the afternoon anyway, so effectively he had a three-day weekend to enjoy.

Din was thankful that the scenes to be filmed in the afternoon did not include him. It was a sign that the show was widening in scope, focusing on a story bigger than just Din’s journey as a lone bounty hunter making his way through the galaxy, as the show had once been. For the first few episodes, Din hardly spoke. It was something that the heads of the studio had been nervous about, wondering whether the audience would form an attachment to a nameless, faceless character who hardly uttered a word. Din was pleased that Mando had proved them all wrong, with the almost universal praise and acclaim that the season had received. He had been relieved too, at how much praise his performance in particular had garnered. Not that Din had sought it out, but Jim and Dale had sent him a selection of glowing reviews to reassure Din. Their gamble and trust in an unknown, entirely inexperienced actor who wanted to remain anonymous had more than paid off. 

Now though, the scope of The Mandalorian’s third season had hugely increased and other characters had been introduced. They were mainly fellow Mandalorians that Mando was both allied to and sceptical of. Bizarrely, it mirrored reality for Din as the casting choices had initially irritated him and he had been suspicious of the newcomers. Unlike the casting for the main character, the studio had not elected to cast real Mandalorians, citing budget concerns. Jim and Dale had been equally disappointed, insisting that they had lobbied for real Mandalorians to be cast. But they were so rare, expensive and tricky to negotiate with that in the end, cost had won out.

Their apologies did not stop Din from being any less disgusted that the people walking around on set were pretenders, merely fitted in their beskar’gam by the costume department without any understanding of how sacred each piece of armour was. How centuries of Mandalorians had fought and died to preserve armour such as the ones they were wearing. 

Din was silently enraged by the knowledge that these people were just viewing their beskar’gam as a costume, something that could be taken on and off, without any true understanding of the deeper sacrifice and meaning of being a Mandalorian. Din had sought a lot of counsel from the golden-haired woman who led his tribe. She had been dismayed by it too, but reminded Din that he was doing nothing wrong. It was an unfortunate pitfall of working with such a corporation, which had shown little respect for various cultures throughout its history. It was the latest in a long list of such behaviour, and Din should not have been too surprised. 

It was all contributing to the sense of unease that he had felt on set during the first two weeks of feeling. Somehow, things felt much different than the first two seasons. It did not help that there was pressure to surpass their immense popularity, either. Din always feared that sooner or later, the bubble would burst, and people would realise that he was not good enough to be The Mandalorian.

For now, those thoughts were far away from Din’s mind as he tried to get his body to sleep. He focused on thoughts of you, the way you looked at him and how warm your body had felt, pressed up against his as the two of you sat next to each other eating ice creams on the bench outside the London Zoo. Din was only hours away from seeing you again, a prospect that excited and terrified him in equal measure. So many questions that would be answered the following day. But, now, it was time to rest…

✯ ✯ ✯

It was fortunate that Din was not required on set, as it was not even six a.m. when Grogu’s cries on the baby monitor roused Din from the peaceful slumber that he had eventually fallen into. He did not grumble or complain, just swung his long, muscular legs out of bed and made his way into his son’s bedroom next door. 

“Morning, pal,” Din rasped, reaching down to scoop Grogu out of his bed. “You hungry?” Din asked and was relieved when Grogu furiously nodded. Mercifully, it did not appear to be one of those days where it was difficult to discern Grogu’s immediate needs. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go get you something to eat, I know it was a late night of filming yesterday and you didn’t eat on time.”

With Grogu seated in his high chair, chubby hands happily clutching a serving of his favourite animal crackers, Din took his phone out and debated sending you a text. He knew that you would probably be waking up for work soon, not too many miles away. Din found himself wondering whether he was being utterly ridiculous for pining over you this much so soon after meeting, but then he remembered how his heart sang whenever you were near. With that thought, his thumbs moved to type the text.

Hope you have a good day at work. Remember, Trafalgar Square at 8:30! Can’t wait to see you.

Din read it several times, hoping it didn’t sound too patronising with his comment about enjoying work, especially when his job was nothing like yours. When he was finally satisfied with the text, Din sent it and took a deep breath. Even texting you felt like an event; Din wasn’t sure how he would survive time with just the two of you alone.

Din had already told you of the meeting place a few days before, once the details had been confirmed by Fennec, but an insecure part of him fretted that you had somehow forgotten, or made other plans and would not be there waiting for him. Meeting at Trafalgar Square was hopefully mysterious enough to throw you off the scent, even though the building Din would be taking you to was right there, overlooking the bustling square. Din was anxiously awaiting your reply; mercifully, a certain little boy provided the perfect distraction. Grogu was finished with his animal crackers and was furiously pointing in the direction of the garden, indicating that he wanted to go outside to play.

Din was only too happy to oblige, hoping that a few minutes of running around and playing on the climbing frame by the fire pit, right next to the little outbuilding which housed the gym would tire Grogu out sufficiently that the little boy would want another nap and Din could get some more rest. Instead, after running around, it almost seemed that Grogu had even more energy. So Din took him inside to the small room on the ground floor of the cottage that was essentially Grogu’s playroom. Din dug out some colouring books and the two set about spending the rest of their morning colouring in, a favoured bonding activity that Grogu always seemed to be in the mood for. Din could sense that his son possessed a great deal of talent. For exactly what, he wasn’t sure. But he hoped that Grogu would find it. Until then, Din was determined to nurture his artistic side. 

While Grogu was particularly focused on colouring in a mountainous landscape, Din’s phone chimed and he almost fell off his chair in surprise. A morning of running around after his son had rather taken Din’s mind off the earlier text he had sent, but when a reply from you appeared on his lockscreen, Din suddenly felt lighter.

Thank you! Just arrived at work, I have to show some kids around for a tour. Hopefully they’re as well behaved as Grogu. I’m really excited to see you too :)

Reading your words made Din’s stomach flip. The way you had even referenced Grogu caused an ecstatic grin to spread across his face, he squeezed his eyes shut in glee. Din shook his head and returned his phone to his pocket, wondering what he had ever done to be so lucky to find you. He figured he would leave you to your tour and concentrated on the task at hand, colouring books with his boy.

After a couple more hours of art, the rumbling in Din’s stomach signified that it was lunchtime. Din headed into the kitchen and made some sandwiches for the two to share. The weather was warm, it was early July after all and it seemed as though the British weather had finally remembered what season it was, so Din took Grogu outside and the pair munched on their sandwiches outside on the patio next to the fire pit. It was a feature of the house which Din did not often use. He wondered whether he would sit outside here with you on a cooling summer night, the two of you huddled up together on a bench as you watched the flickering embers of the fire. 

With lunch eaten and cleaned up, Din attempted to put Grogu down for a nap. Mercifully, Grogu was seemingly happy to get some rest, after his busy morning. His son’s eagerness for a nap gave Din the perfect opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep after the late night of filming and early morning thanks to his son’s antics. But as he lay there in bed, Din found that he could not settle. The knowledge of his upcoming date was still causing his stomach to do flips. Despite how drained he had felt after the first two weeks of filming, Din couldn’t help but wish that he was on set today. He was incredibly nervous about the upcoming date. Tonight, it would just be the two of you. There was nowhere to hide, just the two of you together. No beskar, no work and no toddlers. It was an equally terrifying and exciting prospect. 

The next sound Din heard was the sound of the doorbell ringing. His eyes flew open and he was momentarily disoriented, forgetting where he was and having no sense of time whatsoever. Din leapt out of bed for the second time that day, panicking that he had overslept. Mercifully, the time on his watch read a little past five p.m. and Din rushed into Grogu’s room, panicking that his son would have woken up without him. He was relieved to see Grogu still sound asleep. Din didn’t have the heart to wake him just yet, so he headed downstairs and was greeted by a familiar hunched figure silhouetted through the glass in the door.

“Hi, Kuiil,” Din welcomed the diminutive man, with his impossibly pink skin, a smattering of white hair above his top lip and deep wrinkled skin. “Thanks for coming, Grogu is upstairs having a nap right now. Figured we could leave him until dinner is ready.”

“Perfect, I’ll get started on that right away,” the old man rasped as he hung up the brown coat he always seemed to wear in the hallway. 

With Grogu asleep and Kuiil tackling dinner for the two of them, it was time for Din to get ready. He inhaled deeply in the shower, hoping that the heat of the hot jets as they rained down upon him would calm his nerves and soothe him somehow. The effect was fleeting before that stomach-flipping nervousness returned. He turned the shower off and exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel to get ready. The house was a lot less still now. Somewhere below, he could hear the sounds of Kuiil and Grogu laughing and the occasional clanking of pots and pans as the old man continued preparing dinner. Din wondered whether the sound of you and Grogu interacting would ever drift through the cottage and greet his ears. Perhaps he would come in from a workout, to find the two of you playing together in Grogu’s room. Or he would descend the stairs in the morning to find you happily cooking in the kitchen, Grogu on your hip. It was such a vivid image that it almost took Din’s breath away. Din knew that he was probably several steps further than was normal for a first date. But then, the way he had met you had been far from normal. 

After he had dressed, shaved slightly and styled his hair, Din stood in front of the mirror and raked his hand through his hair for what was probably the fiftieth time. Part of the perk of the helmet was that there was no stipulation for how he had to wear his hair and recently, he had been enjoying wearing it longer. His dark hair was pushed back past his ears, the curls were longer on the back of his head and towards the nape of his neck. His moustache had been trimmed slightly, as had most of the scruffy stubble that was usually dotted along his jawline. Din checked his outfit in the mirror one last time, confident that he had played it just right with his outfit. He was wearing a classic white button-down shirt, the first three buttons undone and pushed open to reveal his bronze skin beneath. The shirt was paired with form-fitting dark brown chinos that showed off his muscular legs, which he worked so hard to maintain with his exercise routine, while not being too skinny that they were uncomfortable. 

Din took a deep breath and looked himself up and down one last time in the mirror, hoping that you would like what you saw. He had always struggled to gauge his attractiveness, which was unsurprising given how sheltered his upbringing had been and how much of his life was spent hiding his face behind his helmet. Still, when Din was free to show his face, he had never been particularly focused on others’ responses to him. Sure, he hadn’t failed to notice the occasional admiring looks from both men and women that were thrown his way, but most of the time he had been too focused on a job to stop and explore those gazes further. Now though, with you, he was finally getting to experience a whole new side of himself that had previously remained unexplored. It was an exhilarating prospect, but one that Din approached with equal trepidation. He could not shake the fear that you would perhaps be disappointed in what you saw. 

After deciding that he was satisfied with his appearance, Din grabbed his wallet and phone from the dresser and shoved them in his pockets. His phone had not sounded since your earlier text to confirm the time and venue for your meeting and he wondered whether you were going through a similar process to him, agonising over your appearance. He wished that he could text you and tell you that you had no need to worry. For Din, you could wear anything and he would still be blown away by your beauty.

Din descended the stairs and entered the kitchen and was greeted by the adorable sight of his son sitting in his high chair, face and arms entirely covered by pasta sauce. Din smirked at the sight, grateful that he would not have to be embroiled in the clean-up operation that would surely take place while he was out on his date.

“Oh, Grogu,” Din laughed, “I’m going to keep my distance from you, buddy.” Din gestured towards the freshly-pressed, bright white shirt that he was wearing for his date. The last thing he wanted was for a mucky toddler to ruin his pristine outfit. 

“As soon as he’s finished with his dinner, I’m going to be putting him straight in the bath,” Kuiil huffed. “At least he’s enjoying it, though.”

“It’s wonderful to see,” Din smiled proudly, relieved that Grogu was actually eating something other than his beloved animal crackers. It was a struggle to find foods that the little boy would try, but pasta with tomato sauce appeared to be something that could be added to Grogu’s list of safe foods.

Din poured himself a glass of water and then took a seat at the table, opposite Grogu and well away from the tomato sauce splash zone. He just enjoyed being in his son’s presence, watching with fascination the way Grogu seemed so enthralled by the textures of the pasta and the sauce that he kept making it into little balls with his chubby hands. It was definitely not the most conventional way to eat pasta, but it sure worked for Grogu and if it got him to explore new foods, both Din and Kuiil were more than happy to leave him to it. 

Din also warred with the internal guilt that he sometimes felt when leaving Grogu behind, no matter how short of a time the two of them were apart. Din knew that Grogu was happy with Kuiil; he adored spending time with the older man and the two of them had a truly special bond that anyone who spent time with the two of them together felt privileged to witness. Din knew that Grogu would have a bath, play with his toys and then be put to bed. Din knew that he would be there when his son awoke the following morning. But there was still a nagging guilt in the back of his mind, berating him for leaving his boy alone for something as selfish as a date.

“Din, he’ll be fine,” Kuill smiled sympathetically. The kindly old man appeared to have understood where Din’s mind had wandered. 

“I know, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Kuiil. There’s no one I’d rather him be with,” Din sighed, struggling to put his emotions into words. “I feel so responsible for him, it’s difficult to switch off.”

“Listen, enjoy your night with your lady. If anything happens at all, I will call you immediately. The car can quickly bring you back here, but really, I think this little one is worn out,” Kuiil nodded in Grogu’s direction. “Sounds like the two of you had a busy day before I even got here and after some post-bathtime playing, I’m sure he’ll be out like a light.”

“Thanks, Kuiil,” Din said appreciatively. He knew that the old man he entrusted Grogu with was nothing but diligent in his care of the boy, but there was always that lingering guilt that Din was never quite able to outrun, no matter how hard he tried.

Grogu had just about finished his dinner when the doorbell rang, signifying that Din’s driver had arrived. Din took a deep breath and braced himself to say goodbye to Grogu, hoping that it was one of those nights where Grogu would not get upset at his father leaving. Thankfully, as he leaned down to press a kiss to his boy’s coily hair, Grogu chirped happily and did not seem bothered that his father was leaving, especially as Kuiil was currently detailing all of the toys that Grogu could play with in the bath.

With his heart feeling lighter and safe in the knowledge that his son was going to be okay, Din pushed the old wooden door of the cottage open and made his way to the black van that would ferry him to central London to meet you. Part of the perks of his job was the fact that Din had a driver on call at all times, ready to take him wherever he desired on a moment’s notice. His usual driver was a man called Boba, Din suspected was around his age but somehow seemed more wizened. Din suspected that the two of them shared similar pasts, although he was inclined to keep personal chatter to a minimum.

“Hi, Boba,” Din greeted the bald man who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Good evening, Mr. Djarin,” Boba nodded, as he started the engine and drove off.

Din was grateful that Boba did not speak unless spoken to; he was not one for small talk, which suited Din perfectly. The radio was on, mercifully at a quiet volume and Din found himself staring out of the window as the lush green countryside turned into leafy suburbia and then, finally, the hustle and bustle of the big city. It took a certain amount of driving skill to be able to navigate London on a Friday evening, especially given the stop-start nature of the traffic. Din felt as though they were crawling along and wondered several times whether it would be quicker to walk. 

Eventually, though, the car pulled up a street behind Trafalgar Square and Din eagerly hopped out, anxious to get to the meeting point even though he was twenty minutes early. He had left extra early to account for the stubborn London traffic which had proved to be a wise decision as, despite Boba’s driving skill, the journey had still taken more than an hour.

Din hovered by one of the two fountains, not sure where the most convenient place to meet was, given the size of the square. Although the Corinthian pillar that hosted a statue of a British naval hero on top was the focal point of the square, it was busy with tourists attempting to hop on the bronze lions dotted around the base. Din hoped that you would be able to spot him in his current location. He paced around, checking his watch every few minutes and nervously raking his hand through his hair.

“Hi,” a quiet, familiar voice spoke into the warm summer evening and Din immediately spun around, just like that day at the convention when you had caught him looking up at the poster.

“Hi,” Din breathed as he finally looked at you. The sight of you almost caused Din to topple backwards into the fountain. He was almost speechless, as his eyes traversed your body and appreciated the way your outfit complimented your body. “You look incredible,” Din breathed, utterly floored by the sight of you. He had seen you in full-nerd mode at the convention, in your work clothes and dressed down for a casual day at the zoo. But to see you dressed up slightly, with hair and makeup styled to match… you were a breathtaking vision before him and Din could scarcely believe that you were his date. He felt like the luckiest man in the entire world. 

“Thank you,” you replied. Din watched as a shy smile crept across your features and you brought your hand to the side of your face, an indication that you were perhaps as nervous as him.

“Do you have any guesses as to the venue for our date?” Din asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. He wondered whether you had clocked how close the meeting point was to the stunning neoclassical building which looked out over the square. 

“No, I figured we met here because of its location in central London. It’s close to a lot of notable places,” you shrugged. Din smirked, delighted that what he was going to say next was sure to surprise you. 

“Well, I apologise if you’re a bit sick of museums given that you, uh, work in one all week,” Din said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and squeezing in a self-soothing gesture. “But I remembered what you said during the tour, about a certain painting that always seems to have a crowd of tourists surrounding it…”

“Din! You didn’t!” You exclaimed, clapping your hand over your mouth in shock. 

“Would you like to see the sunflowers without a crowd of people gathered around them?” Din asked, although he already knew what your answer would be.

“YES!” You practically squealed. For a moment Din wondered whether you were about to throw your arms around him in excitement as you appeared to move slightly towards him before you stopped in your tracks. 

To Din, it appeared that you were holding back somewhat. He panicked that you were disappointed in his outfit, perhaps you had just been too polite to say no to a date. Din shook his head and dismissed those insecure thoughts as the two of you began walking up the stairs towards the stunning museum building. He could not forget the way you had looked at him when you had first turned around. There was definitely something there. Din focused on the building to ground himself, admiring the stunning facade. He gazed up at the portico, with its pillars and the dome on the roof above the pediment. Din hadn’t even stepped foot inside yet and he was already blown away by the beauty of the building. If the works contained inside were as incredible as the exterior, it was certain to be an incredible evening. 

A museum worker was waiting at the entrance and she took the two of you inside and gave a brief talk about the rules and expectations for such an exclusive tour. Unlike during his visit to the British Museum, Din had requested that the two of you just be allowed to make your way around alone and, apart from a security guard who would follow you into each room but keep their distance, the two of you would be left to your own devices. 

Din gazed up in awe at the dome above the steps that led up to the galleries. There were ornate marble pillars and gold patterns on the marble doorways. Every surface contained remarkable detail, even the mosaic floor, and Din almost felt that he couldn’t possibly take it all in at once. Surely he would have to stand here for hours and commit it all to memory. However, there was an entire, empty museum with untold treasures waiting to be explored.

“Where to start? This place is enormous!” Din remarked.

“Maybe we can start with the older paintings, the Renaissance and the like?” you suggested. “Then we can finish at the modern section, with the Impressionists and Van Gogh.”

“Lead the way,” Din gestured and you obeyed, practically galloping up the stairs towards the Renaissance wing.

Although Din could appreciate the skill that had gone into crafting such masterpieces so many centuries ago, the subjects of most of the paintings meant nothing to him as they mainly depicted religious history. The Creed that Din followed was quite different, with the bullet and sword carving out most of their history rather than the brush and pencil. Most of the figures meant nothing to him, although he was stunned by their attention to detail.

“Not really doing it for you?” You asked, as though able to sense Din’s disinterest with this particular section.

“Um, I mean… I can appreciate the skill but I prefer landscapes and nature, I think,” Din admitted, hoping that you did not think him uncultured. Din was anything but, yet his cultural background was worlds apart from what was depicted in this museum. 

“To be honest, me too,” you shrugged. “There are only so many creepy babies and angels that I can stand to look at. I know a section that you’ll like!”

Din was stunned as you moved towards him and reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. He inhaled sharply as the realisation that you had actually taken his hand dawned upon him. Din did not have much time to react as you began leading him through the museum. All earlier nervousness on your end had apparently vanished, as you had actually taken Din's hand in your own. Din was so taken aback by the gesture and the feeling of your warm, soft hand against his, that he almost forgot to begin moving his legs to follow you. Fortunately, he remembered that to actually move forward he had to lift his feet, his brain finally catching up to your gesture. Din followed you to wherever you were taking him, a wide grin on his face as he appreciated the fact that you were joined together. He did not care where you were taking him, as long as the two of you were together. 

Din did not have long to ponder where you were going as he was led into a smaller room off the main wings which contained a variety of stunningly detailed, colourful paintings of an incredible array of flowers. Din paused for a few moments, taking in the art in the room, but you were already marching to the centre of the room. Din was disappointed when you dropped his hand and moved further into the room, wishing that the two of you could have held hands all night. 

“This is a section with a lot of Dutch flower artists, like de Heem, Ruysch and van Huysum,” you explained. “This one is by Brueghel the Elder. I just love the colours, so vibrant and the lighting is so realistic, it’s easy to forget that this is a painting. It looks almost photo-realistic, despite being over four hundred years old. Sorry, I’m going into tour guide mode, even though this isn’t my museum,” you added, sheepishly.

“Don’t apologise,” Din smiled, closing the distance between the two of you and nodding at you, willing you to continue. He was fascinated by your mind and wanted to hear what you had to say.

“You can see there are some tulips in this one, like the red one up there in the corner. At this time, the Dutch economy was built on tulip prices, people made enormous fortunes speculating on that little flower’s worth. Until, one day, the bubble burst and people lost everything. I think some Dutch people even resorted to eating tulips!”

“That’s fascinating,” Din shook his head as he took in the information. “Something so beautiful, eventually causing so much pain.”

“Yeah…” you breathed.

“Sorry, that was a little depressing,” Din scoffed. “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

“No, it’s alright. Art isn’t created in a vacuum, right? I mean, there’s a story behind every painting. I think it can help you connect with them on a deeper level.”

“It certainly can…” Din agreed, taking another step towards you.

“Um, anyway, perhaps we can head to the modern section,” you blurted out as if wanting to maintain your distance, “I’d like to take advantage of being able to look at the impressionists without people wanting to do a photoshoot by Van Gogh’s sunflowers or Monet’s water lilies,” you offered.

Din nodded in agreement and noticed that this time, you did not take his hand. That nagging feeling of insecurity was slowly creeping into his gut and he did not remotely enjoy the sensation. Why did you seem to be holding back from him? Din could not understand it. Surely, you understood how attracted he was to you?

Din followed you as you practically marched through the museum to the more modern section, stopping only briefly to draw his attention to a Holbein painting called The Ambassadors. Din listened intently as you explained that it was one of the most famous paintings in the gallery. Although he much preferred nature, he could appreciate the details of the clothes and the captivating facial expressions, especially given the size of the canvas. Then, the two of you left the Renaissance wing and moved to where the Impressionists were situated. 

Din had followed you closely as you strode purposefully towards the entire reason that Din had arranged a private evening in this museum in the first place. To the most famous piece in the gallery, the one that people from around the country and indeed, the world, travelled to see: Vincent Van Gogh’s sunflowers. Now, Din was standing next to you in quiet contemplation in front of the piece, trying to appreciate every inch and understand what drew you to it.

 “I can see why you like it so much,” Din offered. “There’s just something about it that makes you not want to look away.”

“Right? I could stare at it for hours,” you replied. “And honestly, without any tourists here, I might well do that.”

Din huffed a laugh at that. Although he was quietly jealous of the way that you were gazing at the painting of a man who had died over a century ago. Din wanted, more than anything, for you to turn your head and gaze at him with as much reverence as you were looking at the sunflowers.

“It was worth pulling all the strings just to see you so happy,” Din smiled. 

You turned your head at that, granting Din’s wish as you looked at him, eyes full of emotion. You opened your mouth as if to say something before subtly shaking your head and seemingly deciding against it.

“Thank you, Din. It means the world to be able to stand here in front of a painting I love so much…”

“Well, can you please tell me more about the sunflowers, my favourite tour guide?”

You shook your head and smiled before you launched into another mini-art history lecture. “It’s my favourite piece because I think most people only understand it on a very surface level, whereas I’ve always thought it was quite a sad piece. A lot of us associate the colour yellow and indeed the sunflowers themselves with happiness, but the story behind this painting is anything but happy,” you paused, looking at Din as if to confirm that he was still interested. Din nodded and you continued: “Vincent was friends with a painter called Paul Gauguin and invited him to come and stay with him in Arles, a city in Southern France because he aspired to set up an art colony. So, while he waited, Vincent spent his days painting the sunflowers, intending that the piece would decorate Gauguin’s room. But he didn’t come. As more and more time passed, it was clear that despite Vincent’s enthusiasm, Gauguin was not in any hurry to join him. That’s why you can see the sunflowers at the bottom are dying,” you explained as you gestured towards the wilted flowers at the bottom of the painting.

Din slowly nodded as he cast his eyes towards the sad sunflowers that he had never noticed before. It suddenly gave the painting a newer, more mournful meaning, a perfect mix of enthusiasm and melancholia that Din found strangely relatable and moving.

“There are a few different versions of the painting, where you can see the sunflowers in various stages of decay. It shows just how lonely he was, in real time. Gauguin did eventually come, but the two of them did not get along. Their frequent explosive rows caused Gauguin to eventually leave, a couple of days before Christmas. The entire experience contributed to Vincent’s declining mental state and he entered an asylum, where he spent most of the last year of his life…” you observed, voice quiet now. “I think it’s strange really, that such a famous painting can be viewed so many different ways and that most people do not know the entire story. A lot of people love Van Gogh, but few people truly understand him. And even fewer, I believe, would want to be associated with him if they lived at the same time as him. We like to think that things would be different now and oddballs like Vincent would be treated better, but I’m not so sure. I think we still live in a world where people who are different are treated terribly and anyone who shows any kind of otherness is ostracised for it. He was misunderstood in life and equally in death, too.”

“Wow…” Din breathed. He knew, of course, that he should have expected more than a surface-level assessment of the piece coming from you. But he was no less stunned by the beautiful words that came out of your mouth, the sentiment expressed and the way you seemingly cared so deeply for the world around you and all of the people in it.

“Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there…” you shook your head. 

“Don’t apologise. You’re incredible,” Din reassured, beaming at you. His brown eyes widened in awe of the thoughts you had just shared with him. 

The way you bit your lip, blushed and looked down slightly at the floor as if shy about the compliment Din had just paid you only made him all the more determined to shower you with compliments. He vowed that as long as you were in his life, he would not go a single day without complimenting you, without letting you know how incredible he found you. 

“Um, I might just sit here for a bit and appreciate the paintings if you’d like to join,” you said, gesturing towards the bench that was just behind the two of you. 

Din nodded and followed you to the bench, making sure that he sat close to you and pressed his body against yours. Din positioned himself so that your legs, arms and thighs were touching as you sat on the bench. He was not putting much weight on you, but it was an indication of how close he wanted to get you, and how attracted he felt to you. You were pulling him into your orbit, perhaps without realising it. 

“It’s nice to be able to sit here and look at the paintings without a thousand tourists with their phones blocking your view. I mean, I know the sunflowers are the most popular but there is also the painting of the crabs here. I love the textures and colours. Plus that chair, it’s very much like those found in one of my other favourite Van Gogh paintings: The Bedroom. I think the detailing on it shows a….”

Din was well aware that he was not able to contribute to your ramblings, even if he had possessed the knowledge to. He was distracted by the warm weight of your body against his own, the way his pulse quickened just being in this proximity to you. His gaze flitted to your lips, looking so kissable in the shade of lipstick that perfectly complimented your outfit that you had chosen. Din was aware that you were still speaking about your love for the beautiful artworks before you, but your voice seemed distant somehow. 

Din knew that if he did what he wanted to and joined his lips to yours there would be no going back. Once he kissed you, it was inevitable that he would dedicate his entire life to you. You had already shown so many traits that he was attracted to with your patience, intelligence and kindness. If his lips claimed yours in a kiss, it would be like crossing the Rubicon, a point of no return.

Din sat there, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he failed to notice that you had stopped speaking. It wasn’t until you shook your head and looked away that Din was aware that he had completely zoned out and given you the misguided impression that he was uninterested in what you had to say.

“Sorry, I was boring you,” you shook your head and averted your gaze, clearly feeling embarrassed. Din felt awful.

“Not at all!” Din exclaimed.

“I know I can go on too much, I’m sorry if I–”

But Din cut your ramblings off, mid-sentence. 

“Truthfully, I was just thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now…” Din confessed.

“Then kiss me. I can’t wait much longer,” you breathed.

“Is that what you really want? I mean…”

“Din! If you don’t kiss me already, I’m going to scream!”

Din nodded nervously and brought his arm up as he leaned in. He cupped your jaw in his strong hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb and marvelling at how soft your skin was. He hadn’t even kissed you yet, and already his breaths were so shallow that he feared he might pass out. Din paused a few inches from your face, staring at your lips until you closed your eyes and closed the final distance between you, his eyes squeezing shut as your soft, warm lips touched his. 

Din had kissed people before. He had relished the uniquely intimate connection that came from joining one’s lips to another’s. It was something that had always set his heart racing and made him feel light-headed from the momentousness of such an occasion. Kissing you, though, was a different prospect entirely. It was as though every nerve ending in his body was suddenly on fire. The sensation of your lips together, his hand leaving your cheek to cradle the back of your head as the kiss deepened threatened to unleash something feral in Din that he was sure would be entirely inappropriate for a building as beautiful as the National Gallery.

“Um, wow,” you breathed after Din pulled away from the kiss. 

Din smirked and raised an eyebrow, pleased that you had seemingly had the same reaction to the kiss as him.

“That was incredible,” you added, confirming the fact.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Din confessed, biting his lip lightly. 

“I think I’ve wanted you to for even longer…”

“I’m new to… all of this, dating, you know. I mean, since Grogu, I haven’t felt able to just drop everything and go on dates,” Din explained, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers, a sign of the nervousness he felt when talking about this. “I just wanted you to know that. I really enjoy spending time with you. I haven’t felt like this for… well, a long time, to be honest. You’re incredibly special and important to me, already, and I would love to spend more time with you.”

“Oh, Din,” you exhaled. “I… I don’t know what to say. Of course, I want to spend more time with you. I’m not very good at this either, I feel like with dating I always come off either too strongly or completely uninterested. But that day when, um, when I saw you at the museum… I was so upset that you were probably going to turn out to be a total creep like every other man I’ve ever given a tour to, because you were so handsome. When you were a complete gentleman it made things much more complicated. I don’t know how I focused on the tour!”

“I would never have guessed, you did a phenomenal job,” Din praised.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “I would love to see you again, as soon as possible. I’m um… I’m free all weekend, if that’s convenient for you.”

“So am I,” Din smiled. “I was thinking after leaving the museum, we could go for a drink somewhere together, if you have any recommendations.”

“Sounds perfect,” you breathed.

Din leaned in for another kiss. Now that that particular barrier had been broken, he was going to make a point of stealing as many kisses from your lips as possible. As your soft lips moved against his and he cupped your cheeks with his hands, Din knew that kissing you like this was something he would never tire of. When you eventually pulled away for some much-needed air, Din leaned his forehead against yours and the two of you smiled shyly, giggling breathlessly as you relished your newfound closeness.

“I’m so lucky our paths crossed,” Din sighed. 

For a moment, it was so easy to forget about how exactly your paths had first crossed. The fact that Din had seen you and began to feel things for you long before you ever knew it. Din felt a pang of guilt at the gravity of the secret he was keeping from you, but then he reminded himself of all the reasons this was important. Din had no doubts that you were an honourable, trustworthy person, but there was no way he could sacrifice the privacy and security of his son at this early stage. Din consoled himself in that moment by reminding himself that he had never knowingly lied to you. This was your first date, after all, he reminded himself to live in the moment and to stop thinking several steps ahead. One day, you would know the truth, one day.

✯ ✯ ✯

As Din gazed across the table at you, your elbow resting on the immaculate wooden surface and your hand cupping your chin slightly as you threw your head back in laughter, he was completely captivated by your effortless beauty. You were giggling at a memory Din was sharing of his time as a stuntman, albeit with the story attributed to a non-existent friend to avoid revealing that he worked in the film industry.  The bar that you had found was underground and dimly lit, save for the lamps that sat on every table. It was modelled after a prohibition-era speakeasy and it was no surprise to Din that you had suggested it, given your passion for history.

After you had left the museum, Din and you held hands and walked briskly through the cooling London evening. It was still reasonably warm, mercifully summer had finally arrived but compared to the thin clothes that both of you had set out in, the temperature had significantly dropped. Luckily, the bar was well-heated despite being located underground. There was ambient jazz music playing and the buzz of people enjoying their Friday nights with prohibition-themed cocktails. 

Din had swapped stories with you, the two of you learning more details about the others’ lives. Din found that he was surprisingly adept at obscuring the truth and removing key identifying features of his anecdotes. There was so much of his life, including the fact that he was a real Mandalorian, that he had to hide from you. But there was an equal amount that he could share, even if told from a slightly different perspective. Din loved hearing about your life too, your hopes, fears and dreams. He thought that you were one of the most interesting people that he had ever met, even if there was an occasional air of insecurity to you that he struggled to understand, given all of your talents.

Din smiled as he watched you stand up from the table and walk to the bathroom. You were still as stunning, even in the dim lights of the bar. His good mood did not last though when he pulled out his phone to pass the time in your absence and noticed, with a frown, that there was a new text from Jim.

Din’s heart sank when he read the message notification on his lockscreen:

Hi Din, Sorry for the late notice but you are needed on set tomorrow for pickups. Promise we will make it up to you next week. Jim

Din threw his head back and sighed. The promise of a free weekend, especially when he desperately needed one, had been cruelly snatched away from him. The vow that he had made to you in the museum that you would meet up again this weekend now looked set to be broken. It was not going to be the nicest end to a first date, to let you down due to a last-minute work commitment. Din sighed, showing his frustration over how unfair this all was. 

His heart sank further when you returned from the bathroom and the first words out of your mouth were attempting to arrange another time to meet up this weekend.

“I was thinking tomorrow, maybe we could meet up at this park near me, perhaps you can bring Grogu?” You suggested after you slid into the booth opposite Din. “I think there’s a play area, he’d probably love it.”

“I’m so sorry to let you down like this… I can’t. My boss just texted me and told me that I’m needed at work tomorrow,” Din sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m so sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you looked down dejectedly. “What about Sunday?”

“I think the disruption to Grogu’s routine of me going to work tomorrow will mean that I should probably spend the day with him on Sunday, to make sure that he’s alright,” Din replied apologetically. “Look, I’m so sorry about this. It’s not personal at all, but Grogu… he is my only priority. I have to do what’s best for him and an entire weekend of his routine being disrupted… it would be too much for him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Din winced at the disappointment he saw in your eyes, at how despondent and let-down you looked. He knew that he would make it up to you, he was a man of his word. He only hoped that you would give him a chance to.

“Okay, Din,” you smiled weakly. “Um, look, I should probably start heading home soon before the tube stops running.”

“Well, I was thinking we could stay a little longer. You could get a ride home in the car with me if you’d like?”

“Thanks for the offer but I know my route back home and I’m happy to take it,” you replied and Din felt uneasy at how distant you suddenly seemed to be, as though you were withdrawing from him and retreating into your shell. 

“Okay,” Din breathed. “Let me get the bill.”

Din hailed a waiter and paid for both of your drinks, on a company credit card, another perk of the job. Then the two of you slid out of the booth and made your way back up to street level, feeling rather like two moles that had just emerged from their holes after spending many months underground. Din was astonished that it was approaching midnight, all sense of time seemed to have vanished in the basement bar.

“I had a wonderful night with you,” Din said as he offered you his arm, which you took, looping your hand through his arm and resting your hand on his toned bicep. “I really am sorry about this weekend. Work said they will make it up to me, so I should be able to ensure that this does not happen again next weekend. Are you free then?

“I should be, yeah,” you smiled and Din felt relieved that your demeanour had lightened somewhat. “I was just a little shocked, it felt a little personal,”

“No, never,” Din said, stopping in the street and shaking his head definitively as he looked into your eyes, hoping that you sensed how much he had enjoyed your evening together. “I meant everything I said in the museum, you are incredibly important to me.”

Maybe it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or maybe it was the way you were currently gazing at Din, but he suddenly felt a little lightheaded as you finally arrived outside the station.

“Thank you for this incredible evening, Din,” you smiled, as the two of you stood facing each other just outside the entrance to the tube station. “See you next weekend?”

“See you next weekend,” Din nodded. “I’ll text you in the week.”

Then, Din felt his pulse quicken as you closed the distance to him and pulled him into another kiss. It was more intimate this time, with your hands resting on his shoulders as his hands moved to the back of your head. The kiss was probably slightly more passionate than was appropriate for such a public place, but the cocktails and the intoxicating buzz that came from being around you meant that Din did not remotely care.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whispered against his lips after pulling away from the embrace, before turning and walking into the station.

Din stood there for a few minutes in your wake, fixed to the spot even after he had watched you disappear into the tube station. He could not bring himself to move, as though this spot where you had just kissed provided some tangible connection to you that lingered even after you were gone. Din wanted time to hurry up so that he could be in your presence again, knowing that the rest of the week would feel dull and unimaginative compared to the vibrant, inspiring few hours that he had just spent with you.

Din Djarin had often wondered what falling in love would feel like. He had long since given up on the hope that he would ever experience such an emotion.

Yet the butterflies in his stomach and smile that he still wore across his face, even after you were no longer at his side, suggested that he might just be on his way to finding out.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[cosmicarchivist692]

Radiorose Week Day 7: Falling Together

Wow, I can't believe it's day 7 already. I had so much fun writing these and just building this universe. I hope you enjoyed seeing it develop too! Thanks for tuning in!

He kept to the shadows until the man stumbled a little too close to the woods. Alastor swooped out and grabbed him, quickly binding his hands with rope. It wasn't difficult, he had one too many drinks after all. Alastor led him deep into the woods and then, when no one could hear him, fired a shot and killed him.

Alastor had been watching this man for a while. He had started following him as he left the speakeasy. Alastor had seen him slap that woman and it reminded him of his dad and mom. He was going to kill him, the world would be better off without him anyways.

Then a woman released a quick gasp.

Alastor quickly turned and saw a tall woman with full eyes, a long dress, and a sunhat looking at the dead man on the ground. Sighing he cocked the revolver again and turned towards her, it really was a shame what he was going to have to do.

"Hm, do you want him, or can I have him?" A smile appeared on her face as she walked closer to the body. Alastor looked confused and lowered his gun. "What do you mean?"

The woman licked her lips and said, "His muscles look tasty, I'll take care of the body if you don't want to." Alastor cocked his head. "Darling, are you a cannibal?"

"Already calling me darling, hmm?" The woman laughed, "The name's Rosie, and yours?" "Alastor." "Alastor dear, are you the one who keeps leaving corpses out in these woods?"

Alastor blinked, "Yes, that would be me." "Ah! Well it truly is a pleasure to meet you then. Before, I found the occasional corpse you left, and I'm quite glad you left them. I always felt guilty putting down my meals."

"So you're why I haven't been caught and no-one has found any bodies yet? I must say thank you, even if I don't quite agree with your disposal method." Alastor had a bit of a disgusted looking on his face as Rosie knelt close and started to calculate the yield she would get.

"Perhaps you'll come around to it later. I do believe we could work out a bit of an arrangement too." Rosie stood up and dusted her hands off. "You continue your hunting, let me know where to find them, and I'll dispose of them. What do you say dear?"

Alastor stuck a hand out and Rosie shook it. "Deal."

It was a couple years later. They had to move towns a couple times and find new hunting grounds, but they had only been here a couple weeks, they had about 2 months or so before they would have to skip town again.

Rosie was enjoying a meal when Al rushed in the door. Al glanced at her plate before quickly looking away, he had tried it once, but it made him very sick. There was a hint of panic on his face and so Rosie asked, "What's wrong dear?"

"I was trying to take out another target, when gunshots rang out and almost hit me. I ran, but the person survived, they know where we live. The police will be here sooner rather than later." Alastor was slightly worried. "It might be in your best interest to skip town, I'd hate to drag you down in my mistake."

Rosie sighed and hid her panic, "It's alright, we will deal with this and I'll just have leftovers while we skip town again." Rosie knew this was a big deal and wasn't sure if Al would make it by himself.

Al nodded and went to the backroom where they stored extra bullets and he reloaded his revolver. He didn't truly realize how big of a deal this was.

A couple hours later, Rosie looked out the window and chief and his deputy trying to sneak their ways up to the house. She whisper yelled, "Alastor! They're here, prepare for a scrap."

Alastor quickly ran up and hid by the backdoor. They both stood there for 5 minutes before all of a sudden-

Both doors were slammed open and the two police officers entered the building. Rosie got the drop on the chief and their struggle began. The back door hit Alastor and he dropped his gun as the deputy saw him.

BLAM!

The deputy quickly kicked the gun away and charged Alastor. He slammed into the wall and he responded by punching the deputy a couple times in the side. The fight continued.

Meanwhile, Rosie was kicking the chief's butt. She kicked him to the floor and grabbed her cleaver, slowly walking up to him with a smile on her face. She swung at him a couple times, before finally managing to hit him in the shoulder. She pulled it out and prepared to deal a finishing blow when-

Rosie, hearing the gun shot. looked over and charged the deputy. He grabbed a decoration off the table and bashed her in the head with it. Two parts were at the perfect distance apart to hit both of her eyes. She was instantly blinded but kept swinging anyways. The deputy cocked the gun again and shot her to the right of her heart. She slowly bled to death as the deputy made sure the chief would live.

The deputy brought Alastor to the floor and quickly ran for the gun. Alastor grabbed his ankle and brought him to the ground. He held on with all his strength, but he was still overpowered by the deputy. The deputy grabbed the gun and-

BOOM!

Shot Alastor point blank between his eyes.

Alastor had blinked, one moment he was fighting the deputy and the next he was here in... well, wherever here was. He was in the middle of an open field with blood red grass. The sky was gross smoky red and the sun has rings circling it. He only had a moment to look around when Rosie materialized beside him.

Or at least, he thought it was Rosie. She looked different. Her wide eyes were now fully black and almost soulless, her skin had become a gray tint, and her canines had grown. He held a hand out to help her up when he saw his own arm. It was dark gray and... furry?

He quickly pulled back his arm and Rosie just sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was content not standing yet. "Rosie look at me, describe me, what do I look like?"

Rosie stared at Alastor and her eyes widened. "Dear.... you have antlers... um, your hair is red, you have massive ears on the top of your head, and... to put it simply, you look like a deer."

Alastor became dizzy and sat on the ground. He looked around and saw the sign, 'Welcome to Hell.' He turned to Rosie and said, "Rosie look, we're in Hell..."

Rosie simply tilted her head and shrugged, she knew she was going there anyways. Alastor, on the other hand, was in complete disarray.

"Rosie... this is all my fault, if I was more careful, if I had beaten the deputy, I- I- I-" Alastor started rambling, a filter suddenly starting to layer on his voice. Rosie stopped him, "Alastor, I would have left if I didn't want to die. I expected it to happen, but I wanted to try and help you anyways."

"Rosie... I'm so so sorry." Alastor started crying, he didn't want this to happen. He just sat there while tears streamed down his face. Rosie was stunned, she didn't realize Alastor could cry.

She pulled Alastor close and he cried on her shoulder. He wouldn't let anything like this happen again, he would be more careful, more deliberate, stronger. He would become the most powerful demon in Hell and no-one, no-one, would get the better of him again. If they did, maybe then he truly deserved to die.

Author's Note:

Yup, this was late. I got tired last night and fell asleep before I finished. Oops.

@radioroseweek

This one alone, went through so many revisions and so many different plans, it's ridiculous! But I got it done! I'm glad I started working on all of these early, I would not have made it if I wrote each the night before. In good news, I got a custom desk from IKEA! I've been moving (so I'm quite busy lol) and now I finally have a desk I can use an office chair for! (Instead of a stool and a kids table I used to use lol (horribly uncomfortable, do not recommend))

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[system-of-a-feather]

Also a lil more elaboration on this post from the OG guy in the system who talks this shit but it's also important to know when adopting radical self acceptance is that being a fucking idiot and a coward and crap literally has no inherent "oh Im a good or bad or cool or lame" person on it's own

Literally everyone is stupid in their own way and literally everyone has the things they are scared to deal with and face from time to time. I'm a part very dissociated from the concept of fear and my brain converts it fast to other shit, but I do fear letting myself down - both as a part and as a part ofba system - and doing harm by the few I deeply respect; momentarily I am prone to being scared of having my shit taken - trauma crap

That shits literally normal, being scared of shit is literally a completely normal and natural thing across almost all animal species (some argue all). There is no personal judgement attached to literally any feeling on its own.

The difference is whether you can look at that feeling and say "damn I'm scared and that a sucks ass feeling" and actually accept, address and deal with that feeling - or if you are going to deny-deny-deny.

And that isn't to say "Oh you are a stupid coward for wanting to deny it" because again, it is OK to admit you are scared and not ready to deal with something. That takes huge fucking balls to admit. If you aren't ready to deal with it, cool man that's fine, but do take a moment to actually affirm that with yourself - that CURRENTLY in the moment you are not ready to deal with it.

That is not "running away from it like a coward" that is acknowledging the truth of your current state and leaving space for it.

If you can get comfortable admitting that you are too scared to do something right now, you are inherently - in subtext - letting yourself know that 1) you accept that you are scared and it is a real thing about you that you are willing to embrace but also 2) that as much as that is a truth of your current state, that it is just that - a current state.

There literally is no shame or inherent judgement to be found in a feeling alone. Feelings alone don't mean shit. Feelings alone LITERALLY don't mean SHIT. It's how you handle and act in regards to them both internallyvwith yourself and externally with others that determines if you are being cringe (derogatory) or cringe (affectionate) and sorry not sorry, every action you do there will be someone who thinks you are cringe so theres no escaping being cringe WHILE being your authentic self.

Anyways, building radical self acceptance is a hard thing to do so I got mad respects for anyone building it. Most of the system doesn't get it yet either and so I get how hard it is and all.

I actively basically bully and harrass Riku about it 24/7 7 days a week 52 weeks a year for the past 3 years until they get it into their dumb skull. And while I call them a fuckin dumbass, I am pretty proud of how casually and readily they have learned to admit when they are being "a coward" which is easier verbage for them than outright saying "scared" which I'll take.

But honestly, get in touch with your vulnerable "not cool" parts of yourself that you are embarrassed about and just get used to stating it as it is. Those vulnerable and embarrassing aspects are only as embarrassing and insecure as you let them be. If you hide them and try to keep people from seeing it, of course you are going to feel scared to let others see it, of course you are going to feel insecure, and of course you aren't going to be confident when anything relating that comes up out of fear of your insecurity showing.

It's self assassination honestly. Judging your emotions and internal experiences like they mean anything other than a reflection of your current self and what you need us just not productive.

But I digress. Its a complicated and difficult thing to build and work on and itll always be more nuanced and specific to the individual than I can ever chart out in a casual ramble on some of my life philosophies and principles on shit.

So take home message? Try to stop judging your feelings and just, ya know, have them. They may suck but its just how it is in the moment and the moment can always change.

[keylovesstuff]

I'm back with another Fic yaaaay!! This one has Mario in it this time lmao!!

Aftermath

"Meeting adjourned" The Chairperson on the  toad council declared as members from neighboring kingdoms collected their paperwork and began to take their leave.

Peach kept in a sigh of relief until the very last person left her throne room. It had been almost a month since Bowser's takedown in this world and in the place called Brooklyn. Once she returned home, the Princess didn't rest till she found every single one of her citizens and returned them home, finding some new additions to families along the way. That in itself took about a week at most as over the years with alliance, some of her people took refuge in other kingdoms. Her people were both ecstatic and shocked that she had not only made it out of Bowser's clutches unharmed but unmarried as well. Everyone started easing back into their normal routines and started the process of fixing some of their damaged homes. Peach had called a citywide meeting to explain events and to see if there were any volunteers willing to aid in the efforts of helping rebuild the Ice kingdom since it was the most affected by Bowser's plan.

Speaking of the Koopa King, while she was out finding her people The Kongs took care of the shrunken turtle dragon and guarded him 24/7. Feeling more responsible and with great reluctance on their side along with other rulers,  Peach had him transferred to the Mushroom Kingdoms prison facility. She never understood why she created one in the first place seeing as all her people never caused any problems but, it's come in handy now for their only prisoner. Today's meeting as well as others addressed what to do with the darklands citizens as some were running around other places causing problems without any order from their leader.  Some of their people not involved in the conflict whatsoever were seeking a new start in other worlds but were meant with hesitancy or outright rejection as people feared if their motives were genuine.  The rulers knew they would eventually have to release the ruler as the balance depended on it. The matters at hand were when would they release him, what conditions would they set for him to follow, and how they would make sure he followed them.

Negotiations would probably go by much smoother if they could get into contact with Bowser's second in command, Kamek, but getting an audience with him was rather difficult. To make matters worse, there were rumors going around that Bowser had a handful of heirs running about, and if they were as rambunctious as he was when he was younger, trouble was bound to show up sooner or later. Having the bite-sized king in her castle's custody definitely put a target on her kingdom's back for attack at any moment. Escaping into her mind and starting to imagine some of the worst yet likely scenarios she was pulled out of her thoughts when a Toad guard got her attention.

"Your Highness, the hero called Mario is requesting an audience with you. Would you like us to send him in now or reschedule a time for a later date?" The toad guard asked with his halberd in hand standing straight up awaiting her orders.

"Mario's here? Oh please send him in right  away." Peach told him quite confused as to what could've bought him all the way here on his own.  The toad nodded and exited the room and she let out a groan in frustration.

Realization had hit her that she had forgotten her promise on returning in a few days time to help fix the damage in Brooklyn. After talking to some of the news reporters who were on the scene, she helped a bit with the cleanup before thinking about her people. Mario had told that it wasn't necessary and that the city would take care of it but she had insisted that it was nothing. Part of her was looking forward to visiting the city again as soon as possible if only for the sights plus he offered to show her a good turtle.  He must be furious, anyone would be if someone told them one thing and didn't follow through with it.  Well, she resolved nothing else to do but just be honest and tell him that she got busy with other things and offer her assistance if needed. What was one more task on her plate anyways? Especially for someone who saved the entire world,  she was in debt to him. Peach readjusted herself in her throne chair as the doors opened once and he walked in, there were no traces of anger on his face much to her relief but he did look tired from a hard day's work something she could very much relate to.

"Oh Princess Peach" Mario gasped as if remembering something, he took his revealing soft brown hair as he bowed to her "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I hope I'm not interrupting and that you're doing well" He wished, lifting his head up to look at her.

"Likewise. Feel free to stop by any time. You are no bother. You may stand" Peach said and he did as he was told, putting the hat back on . "You may leave us to discuss. I will give you a call if I need something" She dismissed the two guards that stood on either side of the door. They gave her a bow and left. "No need to be so formal now. Speak in whatever way makes you feel comfortable." Peach said and smiled when his rigged posture became more relaxed. 

"Thank you Princess you didn't have to do that though...They're just doing their jobs" Mario said looking back at the doors.

"Nonsense. I don't need guards around to have a conversation with you. After all you're not running at me in the halls uninvited and yelling my name" she reminded him about their first encounter and joined in when he let out a small laugh. Satisfied that she broke the ice a bit. "I apologize for not coming back, things took a lot longer than I had anticipated" Peach stood up and walked down the steps to the meeting table and took a seat. "You can sit down if you'd like. You look like you've been on your feet all day." She motioned her hand to the seat across from her and he followed.

"You don't have to apologize for that Princess. I'm sure you had a lot of stuff to catch up on. " Mario assured her,  he let out a long "ahh" finally sitting down for what seemed like the first time today, she just smiled. "Besides that's what construction workers get paid for. Business has really been picking up for me and Luigi as well so I've been busy as well" he added slouching a bit in the chair "These are comfy. You sure people don't fall asleep instead of paying attention to what's being said?" He asked jokingly, making her laugh again, covering her mouth with one hand.

"I did once but, I actually got reprimanded for it by my advisor." She shared a fond memory with him. "I'm so happy to hear everythings going well for you and your brother. Even with what little you shared in the flower fields I could tell it was getting to you."  Peach added thinking about that night as clearly. 

She remembers pulling him in for a hug and though he was in shock for a moment he returned it. Knowing that comfort wouldn't mean much coming from a stranger as it would his brother she still tried. Telling him to keep at it and not give up, that things would get better, genuinely believing in everything she was saying. 

"Thank you Princess, that means a lot. Oh wait actually that's why I had to come and see you" He said suddenly scrambling in all his overall pockets to retrieve something. Peach gave him a confused look as he panicked slightly no doubt thinking he dropped whatever he brought. Flinching a bit when he gave an excited 'ah ha' as pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. "The mayor, you saw her last time, Is throwing a day's festival for me and Luigi. I came to see if you, toad, and Dk ig would like to come? Though I walked all over town and couldn't find Toad anywhere...the one that came with us” he explained as she took the paper and read over the words. Three days from now she racked her mind for what was on her schedule that day humming thoughtfully.

"Toad, the one that came with us usually comes back from adventuring in about 15-20 minutes from now" She said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind him. "You'll probably have a hard time getting with Dk though. From the past meetings Cranky has told us that they are in their monthly conflict with the Kremlings and their ruler." She told him. Mario threw his fist up in the air with a silent cheer at the news, not even bothering to hide his satisfaction until she gave him a look.

"I mean, oh no poor Dk hopefully they resolve things soon" he tried to sound concerned and smiling again when she shook her head laughing.  "Ok so I'll try Toad again when I leave. What about you?" He asked, motioning his head to her.

"I have some good news to share with you. It is a bit meaningless though.  The Council at Sarasaland has formally invited me to have a meeting with them, news has been traveling fast. It's really good cause If things go well that's another alliance. I'm more excited though because I can meet another Princess." She started and he congratulated her. "I leave tomorrow morning, will probably stay there for a day, and then be back on the day of just for a few meetings. If the event lasts a whole day I'll join you then. I think I remember how to navigate the area" Peach finished handing the paper back to him, placing her chin in between her finger and thumb.

"You won't have to navigate the pipe area. I'll meet you there and escort you around myself" He promised pointing his thumb to his chest.

"No, I wouldn't want to take you away from a party being held in your honor. Plus you'll have Toad with you and I don't want him to be alone for long. I'll be there around eight if everything goes by without problems."  She told him.

"Princess, forgive me in advance if this comes off as offensive." He started and Peach nodded for him to continue "I know you can defend yourself but I'd feel much better if I was with you, especially at that time of night. People can get kind of crazy" Mario explained in the best way he could without sounding like he doubted her abilities looking at her as he awaited her response. "Plus either Luigi and Toad can come with me or they can stay alone for a bit. My brother's the most trustworthy person in the world" he said proudly.

"Oh I see, well you know your world better than I would I guess I'll accep-" she was about to finish that thought when the doors suddenly opened. Both occupants at the table directed their attention to who came walking in.

The sound of a cane crossing lightly across the floor over to the head of the table. In walked the stern yet wise Toadsworth.  He wore his favorite purple vest and lavender button up shirt along with his red bowtie. He pushed his glasses up that sat above his white mustache on his nonexistent nose with his finger. Peach got up from her seat as he got closer, crossed her hands below her waist and bowed to him, Mario quickly falling in suit with his arms on the sides of his body.

“Welcome home Toadsworth, I trust that your vacation was a relaxing one. I missed you in your absence. I did my best to make sure everything stayed put together” she reported to him. The happiness in her voice for his return didn’t go unnoticed.

“As did I, my dear Princess. Though I must admit I was a bit perturbed on my way back as I started hearing rumors of Lord Bowser initiating his most dastardly plan to date.” He told her also, bowing his head. They both looked at each other and relief flooded over his eyes at seeing her in good health. “ I spoke with the council before making my way over. While I admit that I am most grateful things are in order now, I do find some of your actions before, during, and after the events most absurd. Allow us to properly sit down and-” He started a lecture before Peach cut him off.

“With all due respect Toadsworth, I am finishing up business with a guest. Could we continue this discussion a little later.” She asked, motioning towards the only other person in the room. Toadsworth let out a little gasp, finally noticing the man. Waddling over to the other side of the table he stood in front of the plumber.

“Please excuse my rudeness son, these eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be. I am Sir Toadsworth, The Princesses most loyal and trustworthy advisor.” He introduced himself and holding up his hand.

“You’re all good sir. I should’ve introduced myself first. My name is Mario and I’m just a Plumber from Brooklyn.” Mario gave the older gentleman the firmest handshake that would make his father proud. Looking at this older mushroom he could tell he was a no nonsense kind of guy who would definitely scold you for falling asleep during a meeting. From the sounds of it, The Princess is in for quite the earful and he was glad he wasn’t in her heels right now.

“Oh so you’re the ‘Mario’ I’ve been hearing all throughout the town. I must give you my thanks for stepping in and assisting the Princess in her most dire need. Please let me know your preferences so I can show you my gratitude.” He offered and then added. “How do you feel about Beaches? I had the most relaxing time at isle delfino. I’ll pay for the expenses” 

“Yes sir, but I must really thank your Princess for hearing me out and helping me find my brother, everything else just sort of fell into place.” Mario told him, figuring that adding the part about what Peach did for him would ease whatever lecture she had in stored.  “As a matter of fact I was just here cause my world is having a celebration and I was seeing if she’d like me to escort her there after she takes care of her responsibilities” He explained everything once again and then remembered Toadsworth last vacation. “I do like Beaches, however, me and my brother are just making advances in our business and can’t take a vacation yet. I will take you up on that offer some other time if it's still available.” It did pain him a bit to reject going to a beach, since it’s been forever but he would definitely want to see more sights with Luigi by his side and he was still a bit hesitant going into a pipe.

“That is the Princess for you, she is very kind. We’ll see how the day goes though she is most diligent when it comes to her tasks.” Toadsworth said, giving her a thoughtful look out of the corner of his eye. “I do hope I have the pleasure of meeting your brother someday as you both seem like upstanding young men. I wish you luck in your business endeavors and that offer is always on the table.” he told him, giving him his best wishes.

“Thank you sir and of course you’ll like my brother. Speaking of work I better get going. We have another full day ahead of us tomorrow and I have to get rest. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you both have a wonderful evening.” Mario bidded his farewell with another bow and exited the throne room on his way to find that adventurous fungi.

“I must say Princess, that Mario fellow is quite something. I trust him so much after having just one conversation with him. I do hope that you keep a good friendship with him and his brother.” Toadsworth said once they were alone together taking a seat at the head of the table. “Now take your seat, I believe we do have a conversation to attend to.” He motioned to the seat she was in before and she let out a groan sitting back down, though she agreed with his words.

[houseofbrat]

I am just laughing because I sent you that ask, and days after, we have another reporter making W the biggest victim (again, I have sympathy but he is the last one on my list). I find it very tiring TBH, 24/7 they are writing articles like that one, and they should be careful, because many people can start saying that he is crying too much and that he is being tone deaf, that the normal UK people don’t have such privileges and he is still playing victim when nobody is asking for explanations. I think it’s time that his PR stop the articles, because honestly is becoming too much.

I know Chemo isn’t an easy process, it’s honestly very difficult, but reporters and even W’s PR act as if he is the one receiving it and not Catherine. I know Charles doesn’t have small children and maybe he is receiving radiotherapy (that’s why he can do more duties), but still, it’s very odd having him working more than W, when he apparently had Carole and Michael mainly, helping their daughter and most importantly, helping with the children. It’s honestly very bad to have Rebecca saying that he only will work one day per week, yikes, again, I understand it, but I think he can at least work 3 days (and even one day doing 2 engagements and the other 2 days one engagements, at the very least 4. He should have never said that he hates the ribbon cutting engagements, those ones could have been their saving in this period (just 1 hour per engagement, and then he perfectly can do the school run in the morning and in the evening).

Do you think the Wales children will attend Trooping the Colour? It will kinda weird having them on the balcony but not K (since English basically said she won’t attend), and after all the conspiracies, I can’t stop thinking that having such picture with W and his children, will fuel the drama again.

William's inability to do an appropriate level of engagements at this point is completely ridiculous. His kids are in school five days a week, but he can only work one day per week? What utter bullshit.

Yes, I think George, Charlotte, and Louis will attend Trooping the Colour (TTC). They've done it before. George and Charlotte are old enough to ride in a carriage unsupervised by an adult, as they are almost 11 and 9. Louis will be 6 soon, but he's ridden in carriages before without problems. All the kids have to do for TTC is get dressed up, be at Buckingham Palace on time, ride in a carriage to the site, watch the parade from inside the building, and then ride back in the carriage.

Given the practice those three kids have had with the Platinum Jubilee, last year's coronation, and other TTCs, it shouldn't be a problem for them to ride in a carriage with or without their mother. Anyone suggesting otherwise needs to get their head checked, as it will immediately invite more scrutiny and problems regarding the Wales family in general and Kate. The kids don't engage with the general public during TTC. They sit in a carriage to the Horse Guards Parade and back to BP. It is not far at all.

I didn't see Rebecca English state anything in her last piece about Kate not attending TTC. Perhaps she said it elsewhere or people are just jumping to that conclusion as it is unlikely that she will be doing The Colonel's Review the week prior (08 June). Even still, it's more than a month away. We don't even know if King Charles is going to ride a horse or ride in a carriage yet. Kate could easily just ride in the carriage with George, Charlotte, and Louis, and watch from inside the building instead of being outside on the dais, as she was last year with Queen Camilla.

Again, if Kate doesn't appear at TTC at all, then it supports my previous statement that "she is going to be more reclusive for the next year or two."

[jasmariswonderland]

Sister of the Sun ~ VilxOC

Synopsis: A follow-up to Danica's PE uniform vignette, What Do You Think You're Doing. As Danica prepares for another one of Vil's "tests", she finds herself grappling with the pressure of living up to his expectations as well as grief for the loss of her primary support. And a legacy she feels she will never live up to. Timeline for this chapter is mid October.

A/N: This is chapter 7/16 of my VilDani anthology Fairest After All. If it isn't obvious yet, I'm writing these chapters out of order as inspiration comes.

Pairings: 👑/🦢

Word Count: 5842

Warnings: This chapter explores more of Danica's past and her complex emotions regarding dance and her desire to live up to her sister's legacy. So a lot of angst.

~~~

The music stopped and Danica made her final pose in the mirror. In an opposite corner of the room, Fiona watched her, giving her sister a slow and sincere applause. 

“Beautiful. That was much better,” she said. “You’re adapting well to the pointe shoes. And your form was flawless as always.”

“Thanks, Sis,” Danica replied, smiling at her sister through the mirror. “But are you sure I’m not playing it safe with such a simple variation?”

“You’ve been en pointe for barely a year, so in this case, its wise to focus on precision rather than complexity. A more advanced performance might be challenging on you.”

“But…”

“And besides, it’s not like you’re completely ‘playing it safe,’” Fiona smiled. “You’ve practically mastered the Harvest Queen variation. I’d say you have a great chance of winning your division. The music and choreography are both very elegant and sweet. Just like you.”

At this, a crimson warmth washed over Danica. Fiona had been helping her prepare for a ballet competition, the first she would take part in en pointe. As such, the younger girl was determined to take first place; nothing less would do for her. Over the last two weeks, the sisters worked together on a performance the elder was certain would win. Yet in her determination, Danica couldn’t help but feel that the dance Fiona had selected for her might not impact the judges in the way she hoped. 

Initially, Danica wished to perform the White Swan variation. A piece that had enchanted her when Fiona first danced it, sparking her love for ballet. But for all of its sentimental value, the White Swan was also an incredibly difficult variation. Naturally, Fiona advised her sister against it. Instead, Danica would be competing with the Harvest Queen variation, one that was still impressive, but not as technically trying on a young dancer new to pointework.

“You’ve worked so hard, sweetheart,” Fiona went on. “But you don’t want to overdo it. Trust me, there will be plenty of time for you to grow into your talent, and plenty of time for you to become a beautiful white swan.”

“I guess I’ll just have to start out as a harvest queen,” Danica replied with a little laugh, taking a seat on the floor. 

“And what a delightful harvest queen you’ll be!” 

Fiona moved to the other side of the room, sitting next to her sister. After helping Danica remove her shoes, she placed her arm around her.

“They’ll be closing the studio soon. We’ve been here almost the whole day,” she said. “How about before we head home, I treat my little harvest queen to some ice cream?”

Danica couldn’t help but smile as well. Even if she was still unsure about her performance, she wasn’t likely to turn down more time around her sister. These were some of the moments she loved most and in little more than a year, Danica would realize more than ever just how valuable Fiona's love was for her. And how the loss of it would shape her for years to come. 

~~~

Pomefiore Dorm - Danica's Room

The soft melody of Danica’s music box danced through the air, rousing her from her slumber and the bittersweet memories of times long gone. A familiar, salty taste covered her mouth and even with her eyes closed, she could feel the remnants of tears streaked down her cheeks. For a while, her body remained still as opened her eyes and stared at the wall as it slowly brightened with the early morning sunlight. Each ray of light intensifying the knot of anxiety about the day ahead.

The days following her last encounter with Vil had blurred together, speeding by in a rush of introspection and realizations.Rolling over on her side, Danica thought more about their conversation and the widening distance between her initial expectations and the current reality. She’d entered NRC with the desire to remain unnoticed, to avoid the kind of visibility that had once isolated her among her peers. But while she held this hope, something in her was shifting, and it was her dorm leader that had triggered it. 

It began soon after her arrival at NRC when Vil learned of Danica’s interest in fragrance crafting. His harsh, disparaging remarks juxtaposed by him taking her to Pomefiore’s secret laboratory and then insisting on giving her a basic potionology lesson.Then came her dorm concert, singing in front of other students to prove her fitness to compete in the VDC next February. And now, if she were to continue her dance practices in the ballroom, she’d have to show both Vil and Rook her ballet progress today. 

All of this flew in the face of her desire for invisibility. And yet, as time passed, she was beginning to wonder if invisibility was really a realistic goal. After videos of her dorm concert went viral on Magicam, though there were cruel comments, a lot of the feedback had been positive. Her involvement in the light music club introduced her to a vibrant circle of friends like Cater, Kalim, and Lilia. In them, she found a like minded group of friends who encouraged her pursuits, with Cater in particular going out of his way to help her with her issues with stage fright. Far from resenting her, Danica’s clubmates seemed to appreciate her for who she was as well as her talent.  

And more importantly, the feedback from her dorm leader had been surprisingly good. She didn’t understand why Vil seemed so adamant about pushing her to do things out of her comfort zone. But at the same time, she could feel a budding sense of confidence growing within her and whatever Vil’s motives were, she had to thank him for the hand he had in it. And as much as she did not want to admit it, in addition to a shift in her confidence, Danica could also feel a shift in her feelings for him. 

But regardless of her new success finding her confidence or whatever kindness Vil was showing her, what he was asking of her today was different. 

I wish…no, I need to stop this, Danica thought sadly, forcing herself to forget her wish that her sister could be with her now. Such a wish would never be granted. What she really wanted, she acknowledged, was the advice she always gave which never failed her. How she should approach today's challenge and if it would be enough. 

But Fiona is gone. She’s gone and I have to live up to her example, reach her level. I want to be perfect, but I’m not perfect now. 

And it was that lack of perfection that gave Danica reason to dread the beginning of her day. Just the thought of Vil’s judgment was heavy enough that she felt that she was struggling against an invisible force just to sit up on her bed. Taking a deep breath in, she finally managed to pull herself up and look at her phone. It was six o clock, she would be meeting with her dorm leaders in two hours. It wasn’t much time but enough for her to at least get in some last minute warmups. 

As she finally stretched out her legs and placed her feet on the floor, the gentle sound of her music box caught her attention. It offered a brief moment of comfort, even if Danica could not recall turning it on the previous night. Had she done so and forgotten? The room was just as she had left it, yet the air felt subtly different, as if the lingering presence of another was woven into the gentle notes floating through the air.

~~~

The ballroom, once a sanctuary of confidence for Danica, now felt oppressively tense, as if her anxiety had infused the very air around her. Facing her dorm leaders, who sat poised in a far corner, she half-wished she could abandon this place forever if it meant escaping the persistent dread gripping her heart.

She greeted Vil and Rook cordially, hoping that her face wouldn’t betray any of her current feelings. “I’d…like to apologize again for sneaking in here when I should have been sleeping. It was presumptuous of me to…”

“Once again, Little Potato,” Vil spoke up. “My issue was not you taking time to practice, only your timing.”

“But hopefully, you are now completely rested, having returned to your normal sleeping schedule,” Rook added kindly. “Indeed, the radiant glow has returned to your complexion.” 

“Thank you,” she replied, “Yes, I definitely feel better now. And…I think…I hope you two will approve of what I showcase today. Vil-san wanted me to give an example of my ballet skills. Well, I hope this will be acceptable.”

Taking another deep breath, Danica pulled out her phone and scrolled through some musical tracks that she kept on her phone for practice purposes before finally finding the one she was looking for. A great risk, she thought, but might reap the greatest reward if successful. At first, she wasn’t entirely sure what Vil would want to see since most of her practice sessions were rather mundane. It seemed to make more sense to do something that showcased her talent overall. Something that would make an impact, exactly what she wanted when she and Fiona prepared for that competition all those years ago. 

She had only danced the White Swan variation twice before, always in the presence of her teachers and never before a proper audience. As Fiona had stated, it was incredibly difficult even at her advanced level. Danica couldn’t expect to perform it on stage for some years to come. Nevertheless, that’s what she chose for today. The dance that inspired her passion in the first place, the one that brought her sister so much acclaim as a ballerina. Acclaim that Danica hoped she could be worthy of. 

“Ah, le danse de la reine des cynges,” Rook smiled as the first notes echoed through the room. “How perfect for our cher petit cygne.” 

His words offered some much needed encouragement as she began on a sour note, cursing herself as her leg made a kicking movement rather than the smooth rond de jambe that was the first step. Her second rond de jambe landed property but the knowledge of her initial error stayed with her. One error too many, the first, and her last. 

Remember how Fiona did it, breathe, you aren’t eleven anymore. 

She made a point of not directing her gaze at either of her dorm leaders, not wanting distraction and to focus on maintaining control through the soft yet measured choreography. Meanwhile Vil and Rook watched her with vastly different opinions. Rook was captivated, as he often was with anything beautiful, taken with Danica’s technical skill as she brought the White Swan to life before his eyes. For his part, Vil was also impressed, but there was something about the way Danica moved that did not sit well with him. 

While he couldn't deny her technical excellence—perhaps even conceding she was a better dancer than singer—something about her rendition troubled him. Her movements were flawless, but they were almost sterile. She played the part of the delicate swan queen well, but nothing stood out to him as particularly meaningful. He sensed her anxiety, not as a deliberate expression of the swan’s plight. Indeed, seemed to Vil that Danica wasn’t really dancing as the swan queen at all. Rather she was dancing an interpretation of the swan queen, based on the portrayal of someone else. 

The tempo increased and Danica glided across the room, ending the variation with several, controlled bouree turns before striking her final pose. A wave of relief immediately crashed upon her and she took several breaths that she just realized she was holding in her chest. It was perfect, she thought, not counting her single error at the beginning. Silence fell over the ballroom and she could hear her own heartbeat as the rush started to fade. 

Normally such silence would give her cause for concern but at that moment she had none. After all, she made no further errors and her timing and control were impeccable. Whatever her initial fears, she had performed well. Surely, Vil and Rook would be pleased. 

“That was my third time performing that variation, was it good?” She inquired softly as she turned to finally face them. “I hope I was able to meet your expectations.” 

“Ahhh mon doux petit cynge!” Rook exclaimed, his enthusiasm nearly propelling him from his chair as he applauded her. “You bring the White Swan to life with such incredible majesty! Every move was perfect, were I the Prince, your tender grace would capture my soul in an instant! Beaute, full marks!”

“I…I…oh, Rook-san…” 

Danica couldn’t conceal the way his words spread a warm red tint that spread over her cheeks, swelling her heart with joy. A giddy smile nearly broke free upon her face, until she noticed Vil’s more subdued expression and felt her anxiety return. 

“Thank you, Rook-san,” she murmured graciously, turning to her dorm leader. “Vil-san, do you have anything to say about what you just saw?”

“Hmmmm.”

Vil gazed at her for several minutes, still with the same subdued expression. In his mind he was gathering his thoughts, finding the words to describe both his approval and his displeasure. 

“Vil-san?”

“Yes, I was correct. You are very talented, Danica,” he began. “You danced the White Swan with absolute control, almost to perfection. But perfection is not just about control because in your attempt to execute perfection, your performance lacked all authenticity.”

“I…” At this, Danica felt her stomach drop. “Wh…what?”

“Come now, Roi du Poison…”

“Your movements were precise but sterile,” Vil ignored Rook’s attempts at intervention and continued cutting into Danica’s performance. “And your hollow portrayal left a lot to be desired. It was almost as though you weren’t portraying the White Swan at all, rather, a version of the White Swan set by someone else.”

“Someone else?” 

Her heart raced because of course, Vil was correct. Her performance today was intended to mirror that of Fiona’s White Swan. As she moved, her mind replayed the countless hours spent watching her sister embody the role, each movement and pause deeply ingrained in her memory. 

She had attempted to capture not just the technique but the very essence Fiona had lent to the White Swan, striving to mirror each nuance that had once captivated audiences.A dance so beautiful, so exquisite, that Danica felt if she could emulate it, even a little, then it would surely impress Vil. It would be a true testament to her progress and maybe a sign that she could possess the power he so vividly described when expressing his admiration of dancers in the past. 

It was a rather ironic state of affairs. So many times their parents had expressed their belief that Danica’s ballet ambitions were simply an attempt to emulate Fiona. But her love of dance was legitimate and it was only at that moment that Danica could say their accusations were truly her intention. She fixed her mouth to begin an explanation, but no words came. Only a small, broken sound betrayed the whirlwind of voices that began to assault her heart. 

“She’s certain to follow in Fiona’s footsteps when she’s older.”

“The director only gives her so many privileges cause her sis is the top principal! Such a wannabe!”

“In her enthusiasm to match her sister, we sometimes worry that she’s being overzealous…”

“Danica? Did you hear me?” Vil’s voice, though critical, mercifully pulled her from her turmoil. 

“I…yes, Vil-san I did,” she lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling too ashamed to look at him as she continued with, “it’s true, I had another dancer’s interpretation of the White Swan in mind as I was dancing. Fiona Ledelle, you see, she is…was my…”

“Yes, of course!” Rook beamed, ever positive. “Fiona Ledelle, the finest prima ballerina of her generation! A legend within the history of the Pyroxene Royal Ballet. Your late elder sister.”

“Yes, all those things are true,” Danica felt herself shrinking more and more by the minute, weighed down by her sister’s towering legacy. “Fiona was my sister, and she’s also my greatest inspiration. But…”

“Inspiration and emulation are two completely different things, Little Potato.” Vil shook his head. “You once told me you are your own person, removed from your family’s name. What I just saw did not speak to that statement in the slightest.”

“Vil-san!”

“Though my promise still stands,” he went on. “You may now use the ballroom for your practice whenever it isn’t otherwise occupied. I’m pleased to see that our future lead VDC performer is so skilled. However…Danica, raise your head and look at me when I’m speaking to you!”

“Y…yes, Sir! I’m…” his sudden harsh tone surprised her and she struggled to bite back an apology. 

“However, I hope she will soon learn to find what makes her skilled, removed from any legacies she may carry. Do you understand?”

At this, Danica nodded. She knew she ought to say something. But once again, Vil’s words had rendered her speechless. Her entire body burned with his critique, too similar to other disparaging remarks from her past that she was all too familiar with. 

“…removed from any legacies she may carry…”

“Really, she still has such a long way to go before she can even consider being on Fiona’s level.” 

No…no…I’m nothing like Fiona….

Whatever kind words Rook had for her were overshadowed by Vil’s unintentional reminder of a fact she already knew. That she was still nowhere near as gifted as her sister. Whatever power her dancing possessed continued to elude her and Vil’s observations were proof of it. This was bad. She was already in a highly emotional state, but now she felt almost overwhelmed by them. 

Before she could make a further fool of herself, Danica suddenly bolted out of the room. Leaving her dorm leaders as dumbstruck as they were concerned. But she could not wait for their response, tears were already flowing down her cheeks and she would not allow Vil to see them for anything in the world. 

She had to find a place to herself, now. It didn’t matter where and soon, a quiet corner offered her the perfect refuge for her pinned up frustration and heartache. 

I’m nothing like Fiona, I never will be. 

~~~

Away from their eyes, Danica pressed her face to her lap and began to sob. Meanwhile, Vil and Rook remained in the ballroom, still unsure what to make of what had just happened. Vil in particular felt a strong sense of unease at her distress. 

She was normally so poised and took critique with remarkable grace compared to others. When he commented on her attempts to craft her favorite perfume, Danica hadn’t cried or lamented her failure. Rather, she took his words as a challenge to improve and had done so. Even when he came across her nervously rehearsing for her dorm concert, though with minimal tears, she still managed to see the challenge through and performed beautifully. 

Clearly his words had struck a nerve with her and perhaps more alarmingly, Vil found himself genuinely concerned. Vil had lived most of his life under the glare of spotlight and was no stranger to such criticism. He himself offered it to his spudlings on a practically hourly basis and while they may have grumbled or lamented, it was ultimately for their own benefit. 

Even if it was harsh, every student in Pomefiore would eventually be better for it and Vil hoped that Danica would consider his words and they would help her come to understand her potential. Therefore, there was absolutely no reason for him to feel such pangs in his chest. 

“Why can’t I just be invisible?” 

Yet as he recalled the look of devastation in her eyes as she ran off, he wondered if his words could have carried stronger implications than he had intended. Why did she have to be like this? Such an infuriating feeling! 

“Your words are true,” said Rook, seeming to understand what his dorm leader was thinking. “But sharp wit often cuts deeper than expected. Almost like poison, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Vil, ignoring Rook’s double meaning, nevertheless considered his words. There was nothing necessarily bad about Danica’s dancing and he had only intended to critique her approach to the variation rather than her skills. He recalled his remarks, trying to decipher what could have been the triggering moment, inadvertently finding himself comparing the two sisters. And remembering a similar comment he often heard in regards to his own acting compared to another. 

His fists clenched behind his back before the bitter memory could fully take shape. Yes, Vil understood now, and he cursed himself realizing he might have planted a similarly detrimental seed with his remarks. Something that, for all of Danica’s infuriating quirks, she did not deserve. 

“Thank you, Rook,” he finally said. “That will be all for now.”

“What will you do about Danica?” Rook couldn’t help but ask. “She appeared quite distressed when she left. Perhaps we should have Sidonie check on her and…”

“Distressed or not, she will have to reflect on what I said if she ever hopes to improve in her craft,” Vil walked toward the door. “In fact, I’ll find her myself.”

Rook raised a curious eyebrow at Vil, but chose not to inquire further. For all of his harshness, Vil was a wise dorm leader and his judgment was noble, for the most part. Without another word, he passed by Vil and was the first to leave the ballroom. Once Vil was certain he was out of sight, he started on his next task of seeking out the heartbroken young swan. 

He found her huddled in a corner of the empty freshmen’s wing, not too far from her room, still in tears. Danica didn’t notice Vil’s presence and Vil chose not to make himself known right away. Allowing her the illusion of invisibility she often wished for a few moments more. 

“…nothing…” he heard her mummer, “…nothing like…Fiona.” 

This was more than enough for him and Vil crouched down to meet her level, clearing his throat to get her attention. Immediately her head popped out from her lap, eyes red and wide with embarrassment. 

“No, you are nothing like Fiona Ledelle,” he said painly. “You are nothing like her, because you are a completely different person.” 

This seemed to only make her feel even worse and she buried her face back into her knees, weeping and begging forgiveness for the unsightly display she was making of herself. Vil sighed. 

“Indeed this is a pitiful state of affairs,” Vil sighed. “One shouldn’t cry in public. At least have the decency to fully return to your room.” 

At this, Danica nodded but as she began to rise to her feet, Vil placed a hand on her shoulder. “But not yet, Little Potato, not before you wipe your face and answer my question.” 

Danica began pressing her hands to her eyes, but Vil tutted disapproval, handing her a tissue instead. Even going as far as to press it to her face himself. When she finally gained the courage to meet his gaze, she fully expected to be met with his fierce anger. But rather than anger, Vil surprised her by appearing concerned, irritated, but mostly concerned. 

“I’m…I’m sorry if I disappointed you,” she said once she was calmer. 

“Nevermind that,” he replied brusquely. “Here is my question, are you listening? I won’t repeat myself,” Danica nodded to show he had her attention. “Do enjoy dancing?”

This seemed like an odd question, but she nodded again. Vil followed this by asking if she aspired to dance professionally in the future. Again, Danica confirmed this with a quiet nod. Despite her anxieties, she did aspire to one day shine on the world stage. Fiona had planted that seed of ambition in her, but she was one of the few in her life that actually believed that she could. 

“One final question, Little Potato,” Vil continued. “Do you want to shine on the world stage for your own love of dance, because you want to share that love with the world, or do you simply want to dance exactly the same as your sister?”

Danica hesitated, her initial reaction was to say no. She didn’t just want to be like Fiona, at least, not completely. Her emotions regarding dance were layered and complex, even to her. It was a love she carried with her from her early childhood made stronger by the encouragement of her sister and how much she missed her. With dance, she could not only connect with Fiona’s spirit, but also find an outlet for all the other intricacies of her heart. Unfortunately, for all her love of dance, it was also a love Danica never felt she could fully embrace. 

Because she bore the Ledelle name, anything she did would inevitably bring comparisons with the other members of her family. And nowhere was this more clear than her desire to dance. The truth was, Danica had never really thought about what kind of dancer she could be free of Fiona’s legacy because it was something she had never been allowed to even consider. A fact that became all the more apparent in the years following her death. 

"Hmm, you seem unable to answer," Vil observed, his voice tinged with impatience as her silence stretched. "Very well, if words fail you, you'll express it in another way."

“I don’t understand,” Danica looked up at him, as he stood up. "What do you mean by—wait! Vil-san!"

“Come now,” he said, pulling her up off the floor. “You’ve been on the ground for too long, let’s return to the ballroom.” 

~~~

As they entered the ballroom, the silence of the vast space was palpable, and the fact that they were the only ones there did not escape Danica. Alone with Vil in the echoing hall, a mix of anticipation and anxiety churned within her. His stoic presence made the room feel even larger and more imposing than usual. He watched her carefully, ensuring her composure was restored before he spoke.

“I’d like to see you dance again. Tell me, which classical variations have you studied?”

Danica hesitated before answering, “Well, I’ve learned both of the main variations from Swan Lake. I…just did the white one but I could try…”

“No, not the Black Swan,” Vil swiftly interjected. “That wouldn’t suit you as you currently are.”

What does that mean? Something Danica wanted to ask, but held her tongue for the time being. 

“Have you learned any others?” He asked. 

“A few, how about the dance of the star-crossed maiden?”

“Also not suitable,” Vil dismissed again. 

“The little ash girl variation?”

“No, not that one either.”

“Oh, how about the harvest queen variation? I actually did that one for my first ballet competition and came in first place.”

“Commendable, but again, not suitable for this,” Vil closed his eyes thoughtfully. “How about…the variation of the sleeping princess? Have you learned that one?”

“The sleeping princess?” Danica’s brow furrowed slightly in concern. “Yes, just before coming to NRC I began learning that one. It’s one of my favorites actually. But…”

“Perfect!” Vil decided with a nod. “If that’s your favorite, that’s the one I wish to see.”

“But Vil-san!” Danica tried to intervene. “I’m still learning that one! It might not showcase my abilities as well as something I’m more familiar with.”

But Vil’s response was firm, allowing no place for argument. “That is the one I insist upon.”

“What’s wrong with the others I listed? Couldn’t I…?”

“What’s this, Little Potato? You dare question your dorm leader?” He took a step in her direction, his frown telling her what she already knew. She lowered her head, nodding in compliance. “That’s what I thought. Please proceed.”

Reluctantly, Danica retrieved her phone, found the instrumental track for the variation, and prepared herself. Vil took his place at the corner of the room, watching her with a critical eye that gradually softened as she began to dance. Immediately, he noted that her movements weren’t as precise as when she danced the White Swan. Her hesitations were more apparent, revealing her unfamiliarity with certain aspects of the choreography. 

However, while not nearly as polished, her dancing now took on more character. There was a genuine warmth in her portrayal of the princess bride relaying the story of the sleeping curse placed upon her. Her hollowness had given way to true expression and Vil even caught a smile or two between leaps and turns. He couldn’t help but smile as well, captivated by her performance that, while technically imperfect, was refreshingly heartfelt. 

This was the exact reason Vil  had selected this variation for her and the breakthrough he hoped for. Because the reason he was so taken with her performance now was because Danica was dancing for herself with no basis for comparison. With this variation, her love of dance was free with no legacy to live up to, no shadow for her to chase.  

The music stopped and Danica struck her final pose in the mirror. Vil rose from his chair, giving her a slow and sincere applause. 

“Excellent, Little Potato. You performed commendably.”

“Vil-san…”

She hesitated, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. She thought she detected a warmth in his smile, something genuine and approving. Turning to face him directly, she saw it wasn’t her imagination; the warmth was real and felt oddly familiar.

"I hope my errors weren’t too noticeable," she murmured, her voice tinged with self-doubt. "Like I said before..."

“Oh no, your errors were quite obvious,” he replied, his tone serious but not dismissive. "But don’t underestimate yourself—your dancing has a unique character that more than compensates for any technical shortcomings."

“Tha…thank you…I…” 

Danica found her gaze wandering, but when she brought her eyes back to Vil, she found him closer now, standing right before her. She couldn’t help but blush as there was a softness in his gaze that she was not used to seeing, even when he wasn’t scolding her. 

“Do you know why I wanted you to perform that variation in particular?” Vil asked. Danica thought for a moment, but couldn’t imagine why. Especially when there were other dances that would showcase her skills better. She shook her head, prompting a playful spark in his eyes. “I decided on that variation because in the time she was alive, Fiona Ledelle never danced that role.”

It was true, Danica thought, the realization striking deepy. Her sister had taken on countless roles in her ballet career but the sleeping princess wasn’t one of them. And when she thought about it further, the variations Danica had initially listed out were all roles Fiona had taken on in her lifetime. She was beginning to understand what Vil truly wanted. 

“I miss her so much…” she found herself whispering, suddenly hoping Vil wouldn’t hear her. But aloud, she added, “It's weird, she’s been such an inspiration but because of that, I’ve never really wondered what kind of performer I could be on my own.”

"That’s unfortunate," Vil responded firmly, "because when you win the VDC, it won't be as Fiona Ledelle’s sister. As your dorm leader, it’s my duty to help prepare you for such. But I cannot—and do not wish to—do the heavy work for you.”

Vil paused, allowing his words to sink in. Danica processed them, understanding slowly dawning on her. Lost in thought, she barely noticed when he began to walk towards the door. Her gaze followed him, a tumult of emotions swirling within her. As he turned back to look at her, she instinctively moved to follow, but he raised a hand, stopping her.

"This morning was a lot for you," Vil acknowledged. "And since it's Saturday, you have the ballroom to yourself for as long as you need it, provided it doesn’t interfere with other scheduled activities. Take this time. No one will disturb you. But while you're reflecting, Little Potato, remember this:”

His voice softened and he allowed himself a small smile. 

"Every artist  strives for perfection in their craft. You are no different. But I think it’s high time you define what perfection means for you. It would be such a waste to squander your gifts chasing the shadow of another."

With that, Vil finally exited the ballroom, leaving Danica alone with only her thoughts for company. Assured that she would now prioritize rest over relentless late night practice, his initial intention was to return to his room and catch up on some studies. And yet, something compelled him to linger in the hallway a few minutes longer. 

Driven by a curious impulse, he quietly pushed the door open just enough to glimpse inside. What he saw was Danica seated on the polished floor, her arms moving gracefully through the air as she softly hummed a melody to herself. Watching her brought back the same warmth he experienced watching her dance moments earlier. Along with a mix of other feelings he had been diligently suppressing. 

Intriguing as she was, Danica also managed to infuriate him in ways few others could. Yet, as he watched her now, he recognized that his frustration with her was not wholly her fault.

Danica was not capricious, nor was she secretive by design. What truly frustrated him was the clear vision he had of her potential—a potential that seemed overlooked by almost everyone in her life. Vil was fortunate to have always had his father’s support, but Danica, alone and still mourning her sister, seemed adrift. Uncertain of how to channel her passions without her primary source of encouragement. Or even how to process the grief. It wasn’t capriciousness that stunted her, but fear. 

For Danica, already so tenacious, achieving her own path in beauty would come from learning how to shine unapologetically. Not in the shadow of the resentment of others, not in the shadow of her sister, but within her own light. Though Vil felt it would be presumptuous to assume he could replace a sister’s love. At the same time, his duty as Pomefiore’s dorm leader compelled him to feel he at least owed her guidance on her journey. 

And as he continued to observe, the warmth in his heart mingled with admiration and a new protective resolve. Meanwhile, Danica, unaware of Vil’s presence, felt similarly enveloped by a sense of warmth that echoed from earlier thoughts. Ignited by the approving eyes of her dorm leader. The idea of visibility was a daunting one, but slowly, it was beginning to appeal to her despite herself. 

Indeed, invisibility seemed counterproductive to her goals and she knew deep down, it was not her desire to remain invisible. Not when the opposite meant being acknowledged by someone who not only inspired her, but truly believed in her as well. 

[ferrn0]

REGARDING POSTING

heads up / TW: this looks at personal stuff + vent(? sorta) ALSO this is not super important / not essential for you to read

TL;DR:

less posting due to massive lack of motivation

want to post more and take art serious but its hard

could be depression or hormones idk dont know what to do

overthinking lots -> dont know why this is happening

crave regular change but havent had it + difficult to get change bc of parents -> maybe this is why??

going to try my best not to stress abt it

do not worry about me, im going to be okay

i havent been posting much proper/ finished/ full art ( not sketches ) because ive been really struggling with motivation this year. For all i know, it could be a depression(?) thing or perhaps hormones ( i have a uterus unfortunately) or maybe it just comes down to ADHD.. i do take medication for adhd but they dont really do much regarding dopamine so my motivation is still kinda low even when i take the meds. I really want to be posting proper art and i want to take my art more seriously however, without motivation its really difficult. Im finding myslef slipping back into what feels like a depressive mindset. kind of. yet, im super happy in so many aspects of my life where i used to be affected by this mindset. I have found a better group of people to be around ive found more things i want to do and ive got goals for the year- i didnt have those this time last year. And now.. my creativity has been affected and i dont know what to do.

-

I feel guilty for not posting. Or maybe i feel frustrated that i dont post (which leaves me with noone seeing my work). Either way, i want to post. but i cant get myself to.

this leaves me thinking...

"maybe i just need to improve my skills"

"maybe im not putting enpugh effort in, what if im just not 'trust(ing) the process' enough"

"i might need to just try a new medium"

"maybe i need a new intrest or fandom to join so i can make fanart"

"what if i was just qrong my whole life and im not cut out to be an artist?"

"perhaps theres something else wrong with me and thats why i cant get myself to do things"

And this circles round and round. So what do i do about it?? should i just take a break and not focus on posting? but i already do that anyway! do i just try to do a month long or a week long challenge? but i always miss days and eventually give up!

The more i write about this the more i realise i am not okay. and that im getting worked up over a small thing. but i am miniscule and to me this small thing is ginormous.

-

i am a kind of person who craves change. but only when i want it. And i have gone a very long time without the kind of change i need in my immediate environment. so maybe thats the issue. but i happen to be a child. who lives with his parents. so that causes some problems, dont it? not that my parents are horrible people or incredibly unfair. but because they have their own ideas of how we (me and my brothers) should grow up and what sort of privileges we get ect. because they are my parents. My parents believe that we should each have atleast one physical out-of-school activity we do each week. I do basketball. and i have been since i was in grade 5. its been almost 5 years. dont get me wrong, i love the game and i love playing it. but i find myself dreading going to each game everyweek. i need change. i want to quit bball. i also do drama classes each week(since yr 6/7)- but i like that. and i dont want to quit. because its different every week, every year. My bedroom has also been that same for the past 3 or so years, yes i have moved things around, but the furniture hasnt changed, and the walls have been the same colour with the same wall stickers since we moved in when i was in year 1. I spend a lot of time in here(my room) and it doesnt feel like mine anymore.

-

TW- eating

my medication for ADHD gives me a smaller to no appetite during the day. I no longer bring much or anything to school to eat. i dont really eat breakfast either(but i did that before i got meds anyway). I still eat dinner everyday, just a little less that i used to. and i will eat lunch (depending on situation) during the holidays and weekends mostly because it ends up getting made dor me half the time. i do suspect the rather sudden change un my eating habbits might be affecting me. but nothing terrible has happened to me yet(i have lost a few kgs but that isnt worrying as i was a little overweight beforehand). perhaps this is affecting my motivation too. but who i am to know for sure?.

END OF TW

-

i think i will just continue as i have been. but i will try my best to not worry myself over not posting. although i cannot make any garantees. not many people follow or interact with me here so i doubt this will cause too many concerns but if it does, please do not worry. i will be okay. i am working on myself.

I apologise to those who want/wanted to see my work more/more often. i hope this all makes sense and that you can understand ♡

with sillies,

thomas[FERRN0]

[stormkobra-5]

Feral Flight

Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x fem!Reader (A/B/O AU)

Fic Type: Drabble

Summary: You know when your alpha's that calm on the outside that he's a ball of roiling tension on the inside. Whether from a mission gone badly, or just simply his rut, Santiago gets that specific stance-- the narrowed eyes, the clenched jaw, that look in his eyes like he's already calculating the number of ways he can catch you before you reach your safe place. That's how he stands now, in the doorway, not even having removed his vest or weapons from his work. "Run," He says, deceptively calm, and he's hardly finished the word before you're bolting out the door.

A/N: This fic is based off of the sexy sexy answer @lovely-cryptid gave me regarding Santi and these tropes. You can find it here. Thanks for letting me base this little fic off that, babe! ^^ This is also my first time writing for the A/B/O trope, and I used some personal headcanons I have for it as well as following what the general understanding is of it.

Rating/Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, NSFW under the cut, smut, rough smut, pwp(?), A/B/O trope, Primal Play, praise kink, breeding kink, mating kink(?Is that the same thing as a breeding kink?), kinda sex-pollen-ish, unprotected PiV, non-con but not really, pain is involved (not really bad pain, Santi would never hurt anyone he loved but it’s also pain from overstimming and not enough pleasure), knotting, claiming/marking kink, exhibitionism (no one is sees/hears/is aware), very slight choking, dirty talk from our boy Santi, Santi’s rut throws his omega reader into heat, impregnating, mention of getting the reader pregnant, fluff at the end

Ten seconds.

That’s the headstart he gives you, that he always gives you. You’re out the door, already having counted down to 7 by the time you’re on the street. You’re nowhere near fast enough to outrun your alpha, Santiago Garcia, not for long. The key, however, is in tactics. Endurance.

Ex-military, Santi doesn’t even need to follow your scent to track you. With his training, he seems to have superhuman abilities that allow him the edge to almost always catch you before you reach your safe spot. Your only advantage is knowing him— and this city— well.

When you’d first come to South America, brought here by Santi, you didn’t know much. The first time he chased you, he ended up knotting you in an alleyway just minutes from your home. The second time, you’d gotten turned around and he caught you in an empty street. You loved Santi with all your heart— he wasn’t just your alpha, he was your soulmate— so you were never scared of him. No matter how rough he could be, he was never rough enough to hurt you. He’d never take you if you didn’t want it. And he certainly would never put you in any kind of real danger.

And yet, your inner omega feels the thrill of the hunt. Your instincts lead you to take passes he’ll find difficult with his bad knees— stairs, hills, that sort of thing— buying you extra time. One of the only things you’ve discovered that keeps you ahead of him. The second, and only other thing, is pacing yourself. Santi has high endurance despite his bad knees, his training making him faster and stronger in the long run.

Only this time it’s different.

You knew when he left two days ago for his mission that it was risky. That if he forgot to take his suppressants or was unable to, he’d enter a rut— but he’d insisted on going anyway, claiming he could handle it if it came to it. “I’ll be fine, princesa,” He’d assured you. Evidently not. He’d come through the front door with a wild appearance and wilder eyes, his first word to you being “run.” You could smell his state once he’d gotten onto your street, leaving you pacing until he’d all but kicked the door down, chest heaving. His growl sent fire surging through your veins, and although your heat wasn’t due for another week at least, you felt the familiar instinct slam into you without warning. It was the first time it had happened between you, but Santi’s rut had thrown you into early heat. Now you were torn between two urges: the urge to run, and the urge to mate.

So, you may have purposefully avoided that last hill.

You took detours that led you deeper into mostly-abandoned alleyways, a little off-course to your safe place. It’s what you wanted. And judging from his huffs and snarls behind you as he gained ground, it’s what he wanted, too. You risked a glance back once, just long enough to witness him give himself another push of speed. You were tiring, and slowing anyway because of your heat, the slick between your legs making it difficult to run properly. The throbbing ache in your core was growing painful, you needed him.

You took one more turn, into a disused alleyway that’s always abandoned. The old brick wall to the left is crumbling, a barrier between the town and the jungle beyond just over the hill. The buildings on the right are in disrepair, once all part of the same old complex. If Santi was going to catch you, right here was where he needed to do it.

And he did.

Your heart leapt into your throat as Santi collided with you from behind, half-slamming, half-wrestling you down to the worn dirt path. Sandy dust clouded up from the impact, staining your clothes and hair until it looked like you and Santi had been rolling around in it for fun. Despite your sudden heat, you still put up a mock fight against him, struggling against his grip. “Stop. Fighting.” He growled in your ear, wrapping his arms around you until he had you on your knees, arms pinned to your side and him doubled over your back. You could feel his hardness pressing against you through his jeans, sending a flood of arousal to pool between your legs. You both stilled for a second, breathing heavily.

“...Did… Did I hurt you…?” Santi ground out, barely managing the sentence. You shook your head— and your hips. Santi rocked against you, briefly giving in to the urge to dry-hump you for some relief. His voice lowered to a primal state, his hold tightening on you. “You gonna be a good girl?”

“Y-yes–” Your voice cracks as Santi groans when he rocks into you, your eyes rolling back.

Santi helps you to your hands and knees, making sure you’re comfortable. “Tell me if I need to stop,” He breathes in your ear, but you both know that neither of you will be able to. It’s the gesture that counts at this point, you suppose. He reaches around you to undo the belt to your nice jeans, the ones you wore especially for him. He liked how tight they were on you, showing off your curves that only he got to touch. He nips at your ear gently as he starts to unbuckle it, the faintest brush of his fingers against your clothed waist making you whine at the sensation. “You gonna let me mate with you right here, princesa?”

“You’ll keep me safe,” You whispered, gasping as he nuzzled your scent glands with a satisfied hum, his hands slipping your jeans down.

“I will, I promise,” Santi breathes, biting and sucking at your neck, leaving bruising marks; claiming you, marking you, letting everyone know just who you’re mated to– his distinct scent of metal and jungle covered you until your own, more flowery scent was almost entirely disguised. “Ready, pretty girl?”

Your frantic nod was all he needed to push into you, both of you emitting such obscene groans that you’ll be lucky if no one comes to investigate. Overcome by your urges, neither of you can still for more than a few moments.

Santi’s hips start pistoning as he holds you against him, growling and huffing in your ear as he takes you, listening to your loud sobs of pleasure. “I need you to say it, cariño,” He pants between his snarls, snapping his teeth at your ear. “I need your— agh, unh— I need your permission— fuck, baby, please, tell me I can knot you, tell me I can breed you; oh fuck, hermosa— please let me breed you, please—“

You tried, desperately, to say it verbally, but all you could fathom was choked sobs. Santi was filling you, but you weren’t full enough, and despite the fact that he was in charge, he still was begging you for your consent. Your ruts and heats had always been controlled, there was never any real chance of him impregnating you— but here, you know what he’s really asking for. If he claims you here, now, without any of your protection, you will be pregnant. Are you ready for that?

Your lust-addled brain certainly thinks so. The thought of him filling you with his pups has your heart pounding so wildly you’re sure that Santi can feel it. “P-please, Santi—“ It’s all he needed; he shifts positions, allowing you to arch your back and present for him in the classic omega position. He elicits a gasp as he sinks deeper in, bracing himself with a hand on your hip as he scruffs you, fist clenching half in your hair and half around your neck.

Immediately, he begins to pound into you, shouting as you cry out, your instincts sending you into a spiral of insatiable arousal. Anyone could walk around the corner and enter the alleyway, and you wouldn’t care that they’d see a full view of Santi mating with you on the dirt path like an animal. “Santi, Santi,” You sob over and over, and it spurs a filthy stream of expletives in English and Spanish from your alpha.

You both scream as his knot locks you together without warning, expanding within you until you’re more than certain that you’re going to explode; it triggers your own ecstasy, and you clench down on him so hard you feel like your muscles are going to seize up and cease to function. Shaking from the force of your shared orgasm, Santi reaches up to wipe your tears away with a trembling hand, even as he still emptied ropes of his seed deep inside you. “That’s it, that’s a good girl… So good for me, princesa, such a good girl…”

You heave for air as Santi rocks into you in a slow grind, fucking his release deeper into you.

But neither of you are satiated yet.

With a growl, Santi’s hips snap into yours; you whine, feeling his length throbbing within you and needing more. “Santi, I need you, I need you—“

“I know, baby, I know—“

He carefully presses your face into the ground as he pounds into you, chasing another release as he simultaneously tries to get you to yours; your pornographic wails echo in the alleyways when another orgasm is torn from you, the breath roughly punched from your lungs as he slams his pelvis into yours to knot you a second time, shooting his spend into your womb.

He’s barely finished when you’re squirming in his hold, begging him for more. He holds you still, trying to catch his breath. “N-no wait; rest for a second, just rest… Rest…” He’s clearly in pain, rock-hard again already and knot shrinking in preparation for a third round. But yet he still thinks of you, and your heart swells.

Each time after Santi knots you, he makes you rest. He forces himself to rest, near sobbing himself as the pain in his knees worsens with every round; but he can’t, you can’t, fight your instincts long enough to move somewhere else more comfortable.

Neither of you can stop; not until evening starts to set in, when Santi knots you so hard you scream and arch your back into him, when you cum around him so intensely that he yelps from the pressure. Exhausted, whining high in your throats, you grind into each other, trying to catch your breath as you force yourselves to rest; and then, you aren’t forcing yourselves anymore.

Your heat dissipates, leaving you boneless as you slump to the ground, the way eased by Santi’s trembling and uncertain grip as his rut— and his knees— give out. He collapses on top of you with a groan, careful of his weight on yours. Your muddled brain is curious and a little frightened. Your synced ruts and heats had never, ever ceased so suddenly.

It takes several moments for you to catch your breath, and the first thing Santi does is chuckle against the nape of your neck. “Cariño… Your scent changed…” In your blissed-out haze, you don’t quite understand his meaning— not until his hand sneaks under you to protectively splay over your belly, pressing gently there as he nuzzles into your neck with a beaming smile, breathing in your new scent: your old scent that brings him comfort, and your fresh scent which excites him, that of an expecting omega. And when you still don’t get it, he tells you, proud and happy. “...You’re pregnant, dios mio, you’re pregnant, sweetheart, you’re carrying our pups...”

Pregnant. The word rings around in your skull for a minute. You and Santi just made a little set of people— or maybe even more than the standard twins. Inside your womb were your young, a mix of you and your mate. You wondered if they’d look more like him, or like you, or maybe both… You suddenly found yourself overwhelmed for a second, taking deep shuddering breaths as you twisted in Santi’s arms to wrap your arms around his neck. He didn’t let his hand leave your stomach as he pulled out, laying on top of you and pressing adoring kisses to your face.

The tender embrace only lasted a moment before Santi began to weakly struggle to his feet, going into battle mode. He was bracing himself for if he needed to fight, if he needed to protect you. “Come on, princesa. Let’s get you home.”

Despite his bad knees, he refused to let you walk on your own. He stood, he scooped you up in his arms, and he limped carefully back home, where he took a bath with you before helping you into bed. You weren’t very surprised when Santi situated himself so that he was between you and the door, after thoroughly checking to ensure that the windows and doors were locked, both arms wrapped protectively around your stomach and his torso shielding yours. His head laid on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat as you threaded your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

The reality of the situation was slowly sinking in.

“...We’ll need to move to a better part of the city,” Santi said. You hummed contentedly in response. “Maybe get a real job. One that pays good and keeps me close enough to protect you.” He lifted his head, resting his chin on your collarbone so that his sparkling doe eyes could meet yours. “...You okay?”

You knew that if you weren’t (which you were, completely and then some), Santi would blame himself for being unable to take his rut suppressants. But you were. Kids were something that you had always wanted, especially with Santi; but your situation had never been favorable for any amount of children— or so he’d claimed. You knew he was scared. But you also knew that while it wouldn’t be easy, it wasn’t impossible. You were happy about the sudden change, allowing you something with Santi that he’d never thought he could have had before: a family.

Santi stretched up to nuzzle into your neck with a low purr in the back of his throat as he scented you. “Te amo, cariño.”

“Te amo, Santi.”

Santi trailed his kisses down your throat and past your sternum, pressing a tender kiss to your stomach. “Papá también te ama,” He whispered, and you all but burst into tears. Santi returned to his original protective position, tangling his legs with yours and entwining your fingers together. Feeling warm and safe in his embrace, you fell asleep happier than you’d ever thought possible.

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! I wrote the first few paragraphs several weeks ago and finally came back to it to finish it up with Red Handed Part 3 before tackling Banks of the Nile: Part 2 and The House of Fett: Part 3.

I wasn’t sure exactly who to tag (because I know a lot of people aren’t into the A/B/O trope) so I limited it to people who I know enjoy or don’t mind that sort of thing: @lovely-cryptid @johnny-simpfinger @marc-spectorr

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 7

Part 1 Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

What?

What had you just said?

Bakugou looked up, wide eyed, to stare at his alpha. His beautiful Y/N. The hand in his pocket gripped a small jewelry box tightly. He hadn’t been paying full attention, instead he had been in his own head, practicing over and over what he was going to say. But then you had said… He couldn’t have heard right.

“What’d you say?” He whispers gruffly.

Bakugou watched intently. You were staring up at the sky, though it didn’t feel like you were actually seeing the fireworks as they boomed and flashed.

“I… It’s time for us to break up, Katsu. You know it, I know it. This…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, still not looking at him. “This hasn’t worked in a while. A long while. Years, if we’re honest.”

That… That wasn’t true! Why were you saying that? Bakugou stared at you, shocked. His eyes raked over you, and for the first time that evening, he actually paid attention. You… You didn’t look good. Your outfit was beautiful, and your hair was perfect. But now he noticed the slump to your posture, and the way your shoulders were tense and hunched. How long had those dark circles been under your eyes? Bakugou startled as he realized that whatever was bugging you clearly wasn’t just a today problem. Something had been going on for a very long time and he hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed? He moved to inch closer to touch you, to hold and comfort his alpha. You held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“It’s alright. I know. I’m sorry I’m saying this today, that wasn’t what I had planned. But there wasn’t a good time before, and you were clearly so miserable tonight…” You blew a heavy breath out, glancing at the omega before looking away. “It’s time. Probably long overdue.”

Bakugou made a strangled little sound in the back of his throat as he stared, wide eyed. What was happening? This couldn’t be real. You were his alpha. His Y/N. Maybe… Maybe if he was honest with himself, things hadn’t been great when he had started out at being a pro hero, but that was over now. It was okay now. Things had calmed down. You were meant to be together! Katsuki took a step, reaching for you again. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

You took a step back, away from him. “It’s over, Katsuki. It’s over and that’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay!

“I know things might be awkward around the apartment,” you continued, “but it’s only for a little while. I’ve been offered a job, and I’ve taken it. I’ll be moving in a month. I’ll try to stay out of your hair until then.”

Bakugou’s mind screamed. He was frozen, his mind refusing to process what was going on. You were leaving? Leaving him in every single way? Where were you going and leaving him behind? When had you planned all this? What had happened for him not to notice his alpha was slipping away from him? Katsuki whined quietly. You winced and looked away.

“I’m sorry for saying this all tonight, but it needed to be said. I’m sorry.” You glanced his way, giving him a watery smile. “Goodbye, Katsu. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that you turned and walked away, your pace increasing until you had broken out into a run. Katsuki remained where he was, sinking down until he was kneeling on the peer. He stared after you until he couldn’t see you any more. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t… He pulled the small velvet box from his pocket and opened it with shaking hands. There was the ring he had picked out, just for you. From the light of fireworks that still flashed overhead he could just barely make out the inscription that he had asked for. “Forever.” Bakugou bit into his fist to muffle his howls of anguish.

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

It was strange, packing up. So many artifacts of your life that you have walked by and lived with every day without paying attention to you were forced to hold and consider. Take, toss, or give away. Some stuff was easy choices. You had packed your books up, and sorted through your clothing to figure out what you were going to take with you. But some things were harder than they should be. Like this. You held the unopened toothbrush package in your hands, turning it over and over. You had bought it years ago, when you had just moved it. It was for Katsuki if he ever stayed the night. And here it was, still unopened. It would be a waste to throw it away, unused. But you couldn’t stand to take it with you. You threw it into the give away box with an aggravated sigh. You had known this was going to be difficult, but it was even worse than you had anticipated. So many things in your living space reminded you of the blond that you were leaving behind. The little orange knick knacks you bought because they reminded you of him. The first edition runs of his very first hero merch. The dusty omega nesting kit that was hidden in the back of your closet. There were so many artifacts of your former plans and dreams, and each one hurt in a new way. The smell didn’t help.

You were certain you were imagining it, but lately it seemed like your apartment always smelled faintly of burnt caramel. It was a major reason you stayed away whenever you weren’t packing. It made you feel guilty, even though you were certain you were doing the right thing. He didn’t need you clinging on to him. He didn’t want you hanging on, and he had made that clear time and time again. And now? Now you had to figure out how to live in a world where Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t your sun and moon. You’d figure it out. Somehow. If you could just get that damned smell of caramel out of your nose.

You threw half empty containers of food and spices into the trash with more force than necessary. Maybe if you got rid of the food you had laying around the food smells would go away. You still had three weeks until you’d be moving, but there was enough savings in your account that you could eat out and live on the basics until you were settled in your new place. Or you supposed you could cook at Denki’s. You had offered to help him pack since his schedule was busier than yours. He was going to put in his transfer notice any day now.

You stilled and stared out the window without really looking at anything as you became lost in thought. It was something you hadn’t really processed before. The first time you were going to be moving in with someone, and it was going to be Denki. And it was going to stay Denki for the rest of your lives, or that was the plan at least. It was strange to think about. You could picture it though. Picture Denki and his grin. Imagine chaotic nights with Mario Kart and junk food. A slight blush tinted your cheeks at how easy it was to imagine what your future kids could look like. It wouldn’t be a bad life. It would take time. But you think the two of you could make it good. The friendship was there, and strong. Maybe, with each other's help, you could both let go. Heal. Maybe even come to truly love each other with time.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for you to go to work. You planned on giving them a couple more weeks. There honestly wasn’t much to do this time of year, but it got you out of the apartment, and that was something you really needed right now. You glanced around, deciding to leave your sorting as it was for now. In just a couple minutes, you were out of the apartment and on your way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten minutes after noon. You should be gone by now. Bakugou had listened, pressing his ear to his door. He cursed the building’s soundproofing when he couldn’t hear anything. He was desperate for any sign of you. But he didn’t quite dare confront you. How could he face you? In the span of an evening you had turned his entire world on its head. He had thought you were good. That the two of you had been as solid in your relationship as you had been when it had all started. But then you had said…

You had…

You were…

A whine creeped out of his throat.

The past week hadn’t felt like reality. He’d gone to work on autopilot, focusing on the job in a way that didn’t allow him to think of anything else. His friends hadn’t started asking questions yet, thanks to how busy work had been. Bakugou never thought he’d be grateful for an increase in villain activity, yet here he was. But when his shift was over and he had to go home, that was when your words replayed for him over and over again. He spent hours curled in his nest, barely leaving. He still ate, drank, shuffled to the bathroom. He cared for himself enough that he could still go to work without anybody questioning too much. The only other thing he spent any time doing, he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he couldn’t stop himself. Here he was, going to do so again for the fourth day in a row.

Bakugou crept out of his own apartment. He knew you were long gone from the building, but his guilty conscience kept him moving quickly and quietly until he reached his goal.

Unlocking your apartment was easy. He wondered if you had forgotten you had given him a key when you had first moved in. Maybe you thought he had forgotten or hadn’t cared. Bakugou used to think he understood you pretty well. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He crept in, glancing around. More of your things were gone.

Bakugou whined quietly as he walked further into your apartment. The air stank of burnt and bitter chocolate. If you were so upset you smelled like this, how had he not noticed? He began carefully sifting through the piles that appeared to be for donating. He grabbed a couple old shirts that smelled strongly of you. He tried not to let it hurt when he noticed one of the shirts was an old tshirt you had stolen from him years ago. He knelt on the floor just staring for some time. This was real. You had broken up with him. And now you were getting rid of your memories together and were going to leave. He might never get to see you again. Might never smell your scent again. Or worse, see you with someone else. Smell someone else’s scent on your skin.

Katsuki didn’t fight his tears as he grabbed as many things as he thought he could get away with without it being noticed. In minutes he was back in his apartment, desperately tucking everything into his nest. The smell might last him a while, but not forever. He curled up tightly, pressing his nose into a place where your scent was strong. He couldn’t do this forever. He didn’t know what he could do. As much as he hated to admit it, it was time to ask for help.

And that is all for this time, my darlings! More is in the works and hopefully will get to you much sooner than this part did. Katsuki is starting to pull his head out of his ass, hopefully it's a trend that will continue. TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 , @skylan666, @missmolliemoo, @misssugarless, @arcticsakura, @queenondeezmatatas, @lordmypantsaresocool, @bluesdustyflames, @am-198, @hornelittleweeblet2, @joonie-centric

Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[kookstempo]

Idol verse jk and oc on stage performing while oc was mad at him , like that beyonce and jay-z performance. Thanks <3

hello, beautiful anon. sorry for the looooooong ass wait, uni has been eating me alive. here you go, i hope you enjoy it and pls interact with it :( <3

Jungkook is what people call a social butterfly; friendly with everyone, outgoing, charismatic. And you’re 100% sure his ex-girlfriend, Jihyun, would agree. You don’t hate the girl - she is a very talented kpop idol like Jungkook and you are, but you’re not supposed to like your partner’s ex, right? Or get along with them, in other cases.

Working for a different company has taken a toll already on your relationship with Jeon. It all started back in January at an after-party. Your company had very strict rules for all of their idols to prevent any fake relationship scandals. If you wanted to be friends with someone from another company, demonstrations of affection were entirely out of the picture, let alone hanging out together. So when Jungkook approached you that night, stating that he didn’t care about your company’s rules, you had decided to say “fuck it”, too - with alcohol in your system it was simple - and agreed to go out for coffee with him. In spite of that, you were practically forced to follow the rules your companies had set - not allowing you to be seen in public and arranging your “work meeting” somewhere else.

If it was difficult once, it became even more difficult when the connection between you two started growing and you wanted to date. Things became progressively better with time, the restrictions your company had set were slowly becoming less strict, and some were forgotten. Yet, 5 months into your relationship and you’ve been seen with Jungkook less than 7 times, even if now everyone knows about your relationship.

In the same way it has always been, you both had gotten a lot of hate; why were both of you dating people from other companies? What if that caused Jungkook to drop Big Hit and join your company? That hate felt almost one-sided. But there was love, too - two of the most powerful dancers and vocalists in a relationship, the adorable size difference… Head high and heart in hand, you pushed through and your relationship kept growing.

The thing you really can’t seem to get past is the rumors. All kinds of rumors. One month it’s Jungkook “crying” on stage because you broke up, next month your company releasing you because of your relationship with him, and so on.

But this month’s rumor has to be the worst - with the most terrible timing. Jungkook, three other K-pop idols, and you had been called to make a performance together for the MAMAs, something people weren’t expecting. He was more than excited since BTS’s schedule was finally freer, therefore leaving space for him to fit it into his agenda. The group’s energy and nervousness were high during the last week of rehearsals. There was a plan B, plan C, plan D even, for any emergency. 

So the last thing you needed the day of the awards was for your boyfriend to be seen with his ex-girlfriend on the red carpet - going to the extent of taking pictures together. People were starting to doubt your relationship - once again - due to the lack of times you’ve been seen together, thinking it is forced or to benefit your companies.

“Have you seen the pictures of Jeon and Jihyun tonight, Miss Y/N?” A reporter’s question resounds between the millions of questions being thrown at you.

Do not stop smiling, Y/N. You’ll give them something to talk about. 

Redirecting your focus to another person behind the cameras asking you to pose, you wink towards the camera and decide it’s enough, grabbing the tail of your dress and walking to the entrance of the building. When you’re out of sight, you lose the facade and groan, walking faster to locate your backstage area. The performance is one of the first to start the show - when you locate the area, you are immediately pulled in by the makeup artists so they can help you get into your outfit.

*

You know he’s already in the building. If the screams weren’t indicator enough, both your manager and Seohyun telling you that Jungkook is looking for you finish breaking the news. You brush both of them off with a “thanks, I’ll go to where he is”, but stay on your side of the stage. The performance is bound to start in 7 minutes…more than enough time for you to go talk to Jeon, but you don’t want to. Putting one airpod in, you play your performance’s track to rehearse a bit, lightly marking every step. 

“Why are you so good even if you’re just marking?” A voice you recognize as belonging to your boyfriend speaks behind you.

Acting as if you can’t hear him, you replay the song and begin marking the steps again. This time, you do it with more intensity - nervousness has started to creep in. It’s the first time in a while you have been on stage with other idols and the expectations are high. They are all practically aces.

“You know I can see you only have one airpod in, right babe?” 

Fuck. Pressing your lips together, you turn to him and give him a weak smile, followed by a shrug. The couple of minutes left you have start breathing on your shoulder. You hear the performance before yours finishing, you turn off your airpod and hand it to your assistant, same with your phone.

“Hi. Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of the stage already?” you respond coldly, shrugging your sweater off. 

It’s clear Jungkook isn’t expecting this attitude from you. You’re never like this, no matter the amount of anxiousness you are experiencing - normally sweet yet straight to the point so you don’t get distracted. He’s expecting you’ll reply to your assistant with the same biting tone when she asks you if you’re going to let your hair down, but when you reply with the sweetness he’s used to, he knows he fucked up. But he doesn’t know why.

When the time for him to go to his side of the stage arrives, he asks your assistant to walk with him to interrogate her and see if he can get any information. She seems pretty nervous - why is Jeon Jungkook talking to her? Who should she obey? He’s in a rush; if she spills the tea, she has to be brief. It’s with a long sigh and shaky hands that she lets him know the reason you’re upset.

“She saw the pictures of you and Ms. Jihyun on the red carpet. She has been on edge this week since there have been many rumors regarding your relationship… on top of that, there are people asking her if you broke up, who dumped who - and when she denies it, some people have the nerve to say things like ‘and you’re supposed to perform with him after that encounter?’ ‘sucks to be you’.”

He’s screwed. God, he’s such an idiot. He is not supposed to avoid Jihyun, it has never been an issue. But today? Yeah, today should have been an exception. He had heard about the rumors, yes. 

You two hadn't had a chance to speak about them, or even dispel them by being seen together.

After he thanks your assistant, he is ushered to his spot on the side of the stage where he has to wait until his part, which is right before yours. Going through the steps in his head, he hopes with all he can that the performance turns out the way it’s supposed to - no accidents, no visible tension between you two, especially on that last bit where everyone will dance together and you have a small section with him.

Jackson’s piece was amazing. You cheer for him from your spot backstage and then the lights go down so they can transition from Jackson to Jungkook. You’re proud of him, of course, but the tight feeling in your chest won’t go away no matter what. You try to tell yourself it’s nervousness and not that - knowing Jihyun is in the audience cheering for your boyfriend and how that will make the rumors grow more.

“Grin and bear, it’ll be over soon and you can talk it out,” you tell yourself, focusing on how good of a dancer Jungkook is, while also being ready to step on stage the second you’re told to. 

His part is coming to an end, so you step on your stage mark where the lights are still down, and get in position, back turned to the crowd and surrounded by a couple of backup dancers. The moment the music starts, you forget about all the tension from earlier. It’s just you and the rhythm. The swaying of your hips, the musicality you carry, the way your body flows freely and powerfully earn you loud cheering. In the last piece of your choreography, you turn to face the right side and roll your hips to the beat of the music, gesturing with your hands to the crowd to be louder, finishing with the ending pose.

“Grin and bear, it’s almost over…” You whisper to yourself again as the lights are turned off and redirected to the final member, Jungwon. 

After his part, your section with Jungkook comes. The chemistry is always present and you hope it doesn’t seem forced after what happened. Dancing together may not be enough to completely clear off the rumors, but it’ll help. Shaking these thoughts off, you put your game face on and start strutting towards him, following the beat of the music. You’re pretty sure there’s a tiny scowl on your face because even if the crowd can’t see his expression, he seems frozen. You face the crowd and wink, then turn to him with a smirk and pull him by the collar where you sway together as the intro of the choreography.

He seems briefly relieved when you’re dancing all over him. But it hits him right then and there: you’re still pissed, and you’re just doing it for the crowd.

In the last seconds of the dance, Jungkook grabs your waist and pulls you back to him, like at the beginning of your section together. As you begrudgingly stare at him with pure love, despite your irritation, he grins lightly since he has to be discreet, and the music comes to an end seconds later. That - apparently - pulls you out of your trance; you pull away from him once your ending fairy is long enough. A bit breathless, you push your hair back and walk backstage, not waiting for Jungkook. The few people wandering around can sense you’re pissed - the few words of encouragement your ears are able to pick up are muttered in a shy, restrained tone. The door’s handle is within reach, but before you’re able to pull on it, someone grabs it and stops you from opening it.

“Uh, are you looking for your dressing room? This one’s mine…” 

The words die in your throat once you turn around and realize your boyfriend is the one holding the handle, looking mad but blue at the same time. He is having second thoughts about something - he won’t let go of the door’s handle. You know him better than you know yourself, so it doesn’t take you by surprise when he hugs you tightly after you give him a meek nod and loosen your grip on the handle. 

“We need to talk.” Both of you mumble at the same time, your words followed by a quiet giggle. 

“Please, my darling, you go first. I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours so we can talk it through.”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Your boyfriend has always been very considerate and respectful of whatever it is that you’re feeling. Organizing your thoughts, you clear your throat. 

“I saw the pictures of you and your ex tonight… So imagine my reaction when everyone starts talking about you and your ex on the red carpet while I had to go in by myself. And it hurts because we are rarely seen with each other because you are afraid of all the hate I'll get. But, Jungkook,” you step closer to him and grab his face with both hands, gently. 

“I believe our love is bigger than that hate, and we will be able to push through. I would love for everyone to know about us more than the basic ‘oh yeah they’re together, we haven’t heard any news about them breaking up’. I want people to never doubt our love, give them reasons not to…” You trail off, the crack in your voice noticeable enough and not allowing you to keep going.

“I imagined that would be the problem. I know I fucked up, my love. My most sincere apologies, I didn’t think it would be misinterpreted. But I think of it now and the media manipulates shit and creates a totally different story. Jihyun is a good friend of mine and you know it, we discussed it. But I should prioritize you.” 

He hasn’t stopped looking at you. He does this whenever he wants his message to really go through. Tears leave your eyes without a warning, and you direct your gaze to the floor, at which Jungkook tsks.

“Hey, no… Look at me with those beautiful eyes. That little look you gave me on stage, while I had you in my arms? Fuck, it was so hard for me to keep dancing and not take your breath away with a kiss. Then you looked all angry at me, and I knew right then and there I’d do everything I could to have you never look at me like that again.” 

Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him, hard. He’s taken aback by it, but he doesn’t hold back and kisses you back with all of his might. When you kiss, you feel as if you can touch and see the stars even with your eyes closed. Lips made to connect with each other, yet every kiss feels different, brand new.

He steps back after a while, reluctantly. You are leaning in to kiss him again, but he stops you with his words.

“Sure thing, angel. Let’s give them what they’ve been wanting to see.”

You feel the change that night. It's not just you and Jungkook, by yourselves - you walk hand-in-hand to the car that will take you to your hotel room since you’ve decided to skip the afterparty.