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kyanitesaphire · 1 year

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Lightening In A Bottle chapter 5

Yen and Éclair were fortunate they arrived when they did. It was between peak times so the rink wasn’t too densely populated and they had the space to practice more complicated stunts. Yen had always been an exceptional skater and teaching performance art was her profession so instructing Éclair came naturally. Now the two of them made a great pair on the ice, gliding gracefully in tandem.

As she spun with great speed, the chilled air wasn’t the only thing she could feel on her. Someone was watching her, intently, she could sense it but she couldn’t seem to lock on to who had eyes on her. She searched the stands as she made her laps trying to find any one who’s gaze lingered longer than the usual spectators. Nothing. It was like she was being spied on my a phantom.

“Hey, are you alright Éclair? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Yen asked carefully skating up next to Éclair.

“Someone’s watching me, but I can’t find them.” She answered in a hushed voice.

“ Have you checked the upper gallery?”

“Not yet. It’s hard to do so and look casual.” Éclair pointed out.

“True enough.” Yen pondered for a moment before an idea came to her. “I’m going to casually steal a few of Herald's fries.” She glided over toward the gate and off the ice.

“What’s got her spooked?” Lurch asked keeping his gaze on his dish of fries, only watching Éclair through his peripherals. Yen maneuvered her way closer to Lurch and stole a fry.

“Oh good. You noticed. She says she can feel someone watching her, but she cant see who.” Yen explained gnawing on the greasy snack. “Maybe do her a favour and take a low key peek around the upper gallery?”

“Sure thing. Here, you two can share the rest of these. It’s not the same without vinegar.” Lurch said passing Yen the still hot paper dish.

“Thanks babe.” She said leaning in to give Lurch a peck on his cheek. She turned towards the ice and hailed Éclair, holding the fries up triumphantly. Éclair made a b- line for the gate and rejoined Yen while Lurch got up and left the main arena to inspect the upper gallery. Once Lurch was out of earshot and Éclair was seated, Yen leaned in and spoke discreetly.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how badly is Herald exaggerating what happened this morning?”

“I don’t know. Like a six I guess. I don’t think it would have gone as far as he seems to think, but I think a connection was forming.” Éclair explained, choosing her words carefully and a smirk slowly spread across her lips.

“Ok,ok. I see how it is.” Yen chuckled. “ Well, despite the constant razzing , I can tell Herald actually likes Spencer, and I do too. He’s respectful of you, genuinely seems to care, and even after only meeting you like once or twice, he bothered to remember your favourite treats and bring them to you. Do you know how long it took Herald to do that?”

“I don’t know, how long?”

“I'll let you know when he does.” Yen joked, summoning a nasal laugh from Éclair.

“I think he spooked off whoever’s been watching. I cant feel their eyes on me anymore.” Éclair said from behind a fry. Yen gave the upper windows a passing glance and saw Lurch scoping the area out.

“ Looks like you’re right. Not very subtle is he.”

“Not really, but it’s hard to be subtle when you look like him. He is rather imposing.” Éclair agreed sucking ketchup off her thumb.

The brisk evening air didn’t bother Éclair in the slightest as she ran her circuit through the makeshift urban obstacle course of the nearby skate park. With her headphones in and a steady rhythm set, her mind was as free to wander as her feet. Leaping, bounding, swinging and ricocheting of the various structures with such fluidity, her feet seldom touched the ground. Although her mind was elsewhere, she still had enough awareness of her surroundings to feel the familiar yet unknown presence watching her. It was the same one she felt at the rink earlier. This time there weren’t as many people to search through to pinpoint who was watching. The only other people there at this time were a group consisting of one man and four women all perched on different levels on and around a lone bench. Éclair discontinued her rounds and approached the posse. Each member of the group had their own remarkable and striking appearance. One woman had skin a beautiful, otherworldly dark shade of black while another was as pale as first snowfall. The third was an indigenous woman with silky obsidian hair cascading down her smooth bare shoulders. The fourth woman had brilliant red hair tied in enormous curly pigtails, dense freckles, and vibrant emerald eyes. They all sat surrounding the man as though he was their king and they were his harem. He had brown hair with thick honey blond streaks and a rather fashionable haircut, heavy at the top and shorter at the sides. His eyes were two different colors, one an icy blue and the other a deep hazel.

“Its you again.” Éclair said as she stopped in front of them and cocked her head to the side removing her earbuds. The various group members looked around at each other, getting a silent consensus of her level of recognition. And hopeful and almost eager expression started to spread across the gingers face.

“You recognize us then?” The man asked hesitantly.

“Not exactly. I could feel you watching me at the rink earlier.” Éclair answered placing her hands on the back of her hips. The look of hope that had been forming one the one girls face fell immediately. The man gently ran his fingers through her abundant curls in compassion.

“I see. That’s alright. Its unfortunate but probably better you don’t remember.” He carefully stood up, wadding out of the sea of bodies encompassing him and stepped closer to Éclair. “What do you call yourself?” He asked.

“That’s an odd way of asking someone what’s your name.” Éclair noted aloud. “…but I’m Éclair.” A small pleasant smile began to play at the mans lips. He turned to the women and reiterated the name to them and returned his attention to her.

“Éclair. It’s a fine name indeed. I’m Dauphin.” He reached out his hand to take Éclair’s and bowed slightly to her. As he rose, he guided her closer to the women and began introducing them. “ This is Luna,” he gestured to the ebony woman. “…Etoile,” the Native woman waved. “…Blanche,” the albino gave a smile as warm as her ruby eyes and nodded. “…and Ciel.” The energetic ginger was practically vibrating in her spot on the ground and could no longer contain her enthusiasm. She leaped up and pounced on Éclair, enveloping her in an affectionate embrace. Although the action seemed unwarranted, she wasn’t offended by it and tentatively hugged her back.

“Ciel….” Dauphin said in a sweet yet commanding tone. “..let’s not over whelm her.”

“Oh! Right!” Ciel chirped and jumped back releasing Éclair. The other women held back there laughter, letting only the briefest of chuckles escape.

“I’m sorry, but am I supposed to know you people?” Éclair asked.

“You have no memory of us but we do have a long shared past.” Dauphin clarified. Etoile began motioning her hands in sign but Éclair couldn’t understand her, so Ciel translated for her.

“You are our lost sister. We searched high and low for you for many months after we were separated. You’ve changed so much in that time, we had to watch you from afar to be sure it was really you.”

“Wait…so if you knew me from before, who was I? Why cant anyone find a record of me existing?” Éclair inquired. Again the group looked to each other silently in understanding.

“We understand you must have so many questions, and in time we will answer them. But now is not the time. For now, not knowing is best.” Dauphin said. “Just know, that from now on, Le Fierté will always be there for you. As you were for us.”

“I did something for you?” Éclair was confused. The answers she was getting were too cryptic and only posed more questions.

“Technically the you that we once knew died some time ago. But like the Phoenix you were reborn from the ashes and one of the first things you did as you were becoming the you you are now was give us the freedom we have now.” Blanche explained, her voice calming and sincere.

“Why didn’t you just come up to me at the rink? Would have been way less creepy that way.” Éclair asked.

“Given our past and present situations, we have to be extra careful. You were with those other people, we’re not sure if we can trust them yet.” Dauphin explained.

“Plus the brute looks like the punch now ask questions later type.” Luna added.

“Hmmm.. I suppose that makes sense. His priority is my safety so he wouldn’t exactly trust any of you either.” Éclair said scratching her scalp and rattling her bells in the process. Dauphin looked to the skyline and noted how late it was getting.

“Well ladies, we best be off. We have other matters to attend to.” He said to the group. “We’re so glad we could be reunited. And next time we can take you with us for a more free range run.”

“ Ok! But wait! How can I find you again?”

“Oh! I took care of that already! I put all our numbers in your phone for you.” Ciel replied eagerly handing back Éclair’s phone. “Sorry. I grabbed it when I hugged you.”

“……that works I guess….” Éclair took her phone back and slipped it back in her pocket.

“We’ll be in touch than.” Dauphin said as he urged the others to depart. The women all gave a wave of various enthusiasm, Ciel having the most eager with both hands swishing about, while Dauphin gave a wink and blew a kiss Éclair’s way before running off into urban jungle.

“…did I just make friends?” Éclair asked herself aloud.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #fanfic

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galactic-pirates · 1 year

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Ok buckle up it’s story time. I’ve been musing on the whole Jack Crusher thing on Picard and I have joked (as I have seen others do as well) being a fanfic OC, coming in and making everything be about him. Not to put shade on fanfic OC’s at all but what is fun in fanfic hits a little different on screen in canon. But anyway I am getting off topic and possibly digging myself a hole I don’t mean. So moving on!

It made me remember Warehouse 13 because for reason beyond all understanding they suddenly gave Artie a son in the show finale. A son that he hadn’t known about, and I can’t quite recall how old the son was when he learned. The implication seemed to be that they had one adventure snagging an artifact and there had been pretty much no contact before or since which I guess explained why this phantom son had never been mentioned before??? Except not really because damn Artie makes you look seriously bad. I suppose it was “oh the warehouse is dangerous” but ugh anyway I was more annoyed that this plot thread had just been dropped in the finale! Like why? Can’t do anything with that. It was so weird to come up with something so huge and then show ended, nothing to see here.

So obviously my fanfic writer brain started chewing on this and wondering how to make it interesting. So yeah true fanfic OC time because why the hell not? It is undeniably fun. Also I never wrote this so it exists only in my brain for my own amusement, and now potentially yours by summary if I ever get to the point.

For the plot of the phantom son to not unfairly take attention from the main characters, it would be ideal to introduce him earlier like perhaps forshadow and then actual appear towards the end of season 1. Which would make him a legitimate character that can have plot.

Now I think the story on Warehouse 13 was Artie had a girlfriend when at the NSA and she was pregnant and didn’t know/hadn’t told him, and then he was arrested/recruited to the Warehouse and left behind everything of his old life as a quasi-witness protection type deal. The son was completely normal, had a family of his own, and I guess actually you know that’s nice that somebody had normal relatives not bothered by Warehouse drama. Certainly everybody else got dragged in like Myka’s parents. Pete’s ex-wife etc. So I guess the actual story isn’t bad it just doesn’t go anywhere because apart from Artie being sad he can’t see them because he has to stay away for their protection (which I kinda hate because surely precautions, effort could be made etc.)

Anyway I figured if we were going to make it plot then make it fun. Bring in another plot line of the Warehouse they never really explored and I was always fascinated by - the competition I am sure they had but never admitted to.

What if Artie got the girlfriend AFTER joining the Warehouse? Someone else with Russian roots, who could relate about the fear for his relatives in Russia. I mean Artie did what he did to save them and then when it all went bad he must have been scared it would have undone it all. Plus that had been a weakness in the past, so why not go for the weak spot that works? Obviously the Warehouse would have flagged it but the key to a good lie is that a lot is the truth. If she was open about her Russian roots why would there be any suspicion? A Russian spy would surely want to be as non-Russian as possible right? Because let’s face it height of the Cold War even if the Warehouse did manage to be neutral it is still in the USA, and so Russia wanting to infiltrate it just makes sense. Also critical point (for my own enjoyment) is I very much liked the whole Irina plot in Alias. Only Irina was a good guy (kinda) and this spy girlfriend is definitely not.

Obviously cover was blown, the Warehouse learned the truth, and the spy left and then discovered she was pregnant. So when did Artie learn about the kid? I am thinking initially when the kid was a few years old. Old enough to be thought loyal to Russia but young enough to tug on heartstrings. Another way to infiltrate the Warehouse. Only it doesn’t work. The Regents offer to get the kid but Artie declines. The boy doesn’t know him. It would be wrong to strip him from the only family he has ever known. Plus Artie does do the helpless head in the sand thing. I can hear him splutter “what would I do with a kid? How could I raise him alone? The work has to come first.” I mean even after 20 years Artie still feels he needs to make amends for the artifacts to Russia so just a few years later? Plus having had the second brush with nearly letting someone into the warehouse. So much of his self-worth is tied up in being a good agent and making it right.

Now obviously the fun part comes when the kid grows up. I am thinking the first time he and Artie actually meet they are going after the same artifact. Yup the kid grew up to be a retrieval specialist. Now who else do we know who is in the black market artifact trade? Who would have been highly interested in Artie’s son? Oh yes I am quite sure that James MacPherson would have been delighted to contract Karl (yeah I named him) to be his right hand.

Am I done? No I am not done because math is hard and I am not entirely sure. Plus the years are hard to work out for when the Phoenix incident happened. But I think it might pretty much work for either Artie to fall into this femme fatale trap when MacPherson married Carol, or when MacPherson used the Phoenix to save her AND (fun stuff) for Karl to then be about the same age as Claudia… Claudia who hunted for everything she could find on the Warehouse and how she could break into it. I would say a retrieval specialist with a bit of a grudge against the Warehouse would have been a solid source. One that Claudia cut ties with when she chose to join the Warehouse lest the regents think she was a traitor.

When Leena framed Claudia as a traitor that would have added an extra dimension. Plus I am just imagining the drama if Karl told Claudia his bio dad was an agent but never said his name, and then the reveal of “Artie?!?!”

I know I know this is getting a bit of a soap opera but that’s part of the fun of a fanfic OC. Bring in all the drama. Make it ridiculous with Russian spies because why not? It’s fun. Plus I don’t know if you can tell with what I have said but I am trying to think about this mostly in relation to what meaty conflict it gives Artie and Claudia to chew on. That is even in fanfic what interests people - the real characters. I can try and make the fanfic OC compelling but at the end of the day they aren’t the point. I can write it for me and do what I find amusing but that’s why the OC exists at all.

Anyway I like dimensions and layers and I can’t quite decide how this would affect the season 1 finale. No matter what HG Wells needs to be unbronzed. But then? If MacPherson had another option would he have accompanied HG back to the Warehouse to break into the Escher Vault or would he have sent Karl instead? When Claudia left the Warehouse upset that everyone thought she was a traitor Joshua was half a world away, what if Karl was closer? They broke up but he knows about the Warehouse and would understand.

Now the thing with villains is if they stay at large it makes the heroes look incompetent. So it wouldn’t be good for Karl to be allowed to be a rival retrieval specialist competing for artifacts forever. But equally having him in that dubious gray area of kinda enemy, kinda friend. Sometimes working against them, sometimes giving them information/help. That feels interesting.

Of course with this kind of AU the ripple effects start and get bigger and bigger, and then it’s hard to think about what happens and the consequences.

I think it’s pretty known that I ship Artie and MacPherson. The parallels to HG and Myka, plus the echoes of James and John from Sanctuary just planted the idea in my head and it wouldn’t leave. The whole element of “Uncle James was more a father to me than anyone which I guess makes sense, as if things had been different he would have been my co-dad” the tug of war of the two different paths, whether the Warehouse is morally right or wrong, the corruption - which side? Etc. I mean there is a difference between principles and practice sometimes. Like the Warehouse has the bronzer and other very bad things. It’s not totally black and white even if on the surface it sometimes seems that way because the agents of the Warehouse whom we love and cheer for have the best intentions.

Anyway I think I have rambled long enough to cover most of what is swirling in my brain. I have almost certainly forgotten something but ehhh no matter. After all this is just for fun 😉

#warehouse 13 #in which I am undeniably back on my bullshit #will this make sense to anyone but me? probably not but it is fun anyway #don’t mind me just chilling with the brain idea gremlins this sucky Wednesday #sam rambles (a lot)

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peronica · 2 years

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Flower Scout Story.

Story where Max is taken ransom by the Flower Scouts. I only own my OCs', and since I refuse to use "Bad Words" I use filler words like "What in the world?" "Stinkin," "What the?" And so on, shouldn't be too confusing, but this might make them a little OOC. I hope you enjoy!

Also, editing and posting was a nightmare, so they may be a few misspellings.

. . .

“ALRIGHT CAMPERS; I hope you all enjoyed our midnight hike!” David said, his voice far too cheery for someone who had been up for 30 hours straight.

A groan came from the rest of the camp. “David, it wasn’t a ‘midnight hike,’ we got lost! And the wolves wouldn’t let us sleep,” Max snapped.

“I still say you should’ve let me at them; I could be the pack leader by now!” Nikkie whined.

“You probably would’ve been eaten,” Neil said.

“I’ve trained one before!”

“One! Not a whole pack!” He argued, then turned to max, “and you fell asleep 6 hours ago! David and Gwen had to take turns carrying you!”

“And if you ever speak of it again, you won’t be able to talk again,” Max threatened.

“Ok, that’s enough! Max, quite threatening Neil, Nikkie, drop the wolf thing.” Gwen turned to the rest of the campers, “go to sleep, everyone, we’ll fix our sleep schedules tomorrow!” She made her way to the counselor's cabin.

“Well, you heard her: get some rest everyone! Food should be ready in the mess hall if you're hungry now, or later. And sweet dreams!” Max groaned at that.

The kids made it to their beds, and passed out in minutes. All except Max, who was fully rested from his nap. He laid in his bed, hugging Mr. Hunnynuts, and tried to drift off, but couldn’t. The one time, he thought as he wondered what to do. I’m the only one awake, I should plan a prank on David for when he wakes up. He rolled on his side, back to the door, and began to think of ways to tourcher the counselor…

Just for a bag to be placed over his head…

He started to flail around, trying to get up but he was powerless against someone with rope as they tied his hands together. “HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” He tried to yell, but the bag was thick, and muffled his voice. He could feel himself being picked up, and carried out of the tent.

Well, he thought, I guess Campbell finally snapped and is selling me.

He kept struggling and yelling until he was sat in a chair and tied to it, then the bag came off, revealing…

“SASHA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” In front of him stood 5 flower Scouts: Sasha, Tabbii, Erin and 2 he didn’t recognize.

“Uh, holding you for ransome, obvie!” She said in her annoying voice.

Max just looked at her. “WHAT?”

“You see, cookie sales aren’t going well, so, to make up for it, your camp has to buy 500 boxes or never see you again.” She explained.

“We left a note,” Tabii added.

Max started to laugh, “you think they would pay to get me back?” He wheezed, “Gwen’ll probably send you a thank-you note for getting rid of me. Plus,” he looked around, “does Ms. Priss even know I’m here? This could get her arrested, you know?”

“Priss got her shipment of wine last night, we’re good for three days until she notices you,” one of the others explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’m not gonna be here,” Max stood up, ropes undone. “Nikkie’s held me and Neils hostage so many times, this was nothing!” He taunted as he made his way to the door.

“Are you sure you want to leave? Without your precious bear?” Max froze in his tracks, and slowly turned around…

Sure enough, Sasha held Mr. Hunnynuts by the arm, looking bored as always. “It’d be a shame if he, like, got lost. Or ripped…” She threatened.

“YOU GIVE HIM BACK RIGHT NOW!” Max charged at her, only to be stopped by one of the extras who was surprisingly strong.

“That’s Bella,” Sasha said, “She’s, like, crazy strong, and wants that trip to Mexico pretty badly, so don’t mess with her.” Bella let Max down. “You’ll get your bear back, when they pay up,” she said with an evil look in her eyes. “Now if he’s damaged, that's up to you.” She held a knife to its throat.

Max looked at his beloved bear, he could go now, and have Gwen or David or even Nikkie get it back later, but who knows what this psycho would do to him by then. Max sighed, and looked Sasha in the eyes, “What the what do you want me to do.” He didn’t like her grin one bit…

. . .

Max was now in the Flower Scout Mess Hall, regretting his life choices. “I’m not doing

that.” He stated flatly.

“Oh come on! What, are you, like, embarrassed,” Sasha taunted.

“No, no reason to be embarrassed, it’s just humiliating and tourcher,” Max explained.

“Well, I guess the bear doesn't need his arm…”

“Hand me the dress!”

Tabbii handed him an aqua green dress, “Here you go.”

He held it out, examining it, “I’ll wear a dress, but it has to be long sleeved.” He demanded.

“You don’t get to pick that,” Sasha replied.

“Look, I’ll where the stupid dress, just make it long sleeved, please.” He snapped.

Before Sasha could say another word, Erin said “fine, that’s fair enough.” And handed him a red dress.

“Thank you.” He entered the changing room, and came out a minute later. His face was set in a scowl and the dress was too loose, dragging along the floor. “Happy?” He demanded.

The girls burst out laughing, “yeah we are,” one called out. A flash went off.

“HEY! YOU DELETE THAT RIGHT STINKING KNOW!” Max demanded.

“No way,” Sasha said as she handed him another dress. “Try this one on.”

“What? No way!” She held Mr. Hunnynuts up, Max groaned, and entered the room again. He came out with an orange dress with an outer layer of poofy skirts and glitter covering it. He was met with the same reaction.

“I don’t get it,” Tabbii said as he came out with yet another dress, now black with red highlights. “Why is it always loose? Cera and him should be the same size, and they fit her.” Each dress had been loose and sagging to the floor.

Kimmy face palmed, “duh, of course!” She walked up behind Max and pulled the dress up in front for the others to see. “He’s like my brother, he doesn’t have-”

“Oh yeah! Of course, that's it!” Erin interrupted her.

Bella smiled, “Put him in a practice dress, and I can fix that.”

Max looked confused, “What’s a ‘practice dress’ and how are you gonna fix it?”

Kimmy handed him a dress, “you’ll see.”

He came out a minute later in a bright pink dress, angry as a hornet. “Did you have to choose pink?”

“YES!” Was his answer from everyone.

Bella grabbed his hand and led him to a table. “Stand right here.” She ran to grab some sewing supplies and climbed on the bench behind him. “How does this look?” She pulled the dress up from behind, making it rise in front.

“Looks good, Bella,” Erin replied.

“Great!” She started to layer the extra fabric and started to sew.

“So, what is a ‘practice dress’ exactly- ow!” A needle poked his back.

“Sorry,” Bella apologized.

“It’s a dress we can do, like, anything to,” Erin explained. “It’s a basic base dress, so we can, like, add layers to it, adjust it to fit us better, sew accessories onto it… the list goes on and on.”

It took two minutes and a lot of stray needles for Bella to finish fitting the dress for Max. “That should hold, I double stitched it.” She explained.

Max stepped away, “finally! Those stupid needles hurt like crazy.”

“You better not bleed all over our dress!”

“How can I control it? I can barely even move in this thing!”

“Good! That means it fits!” He started to walk away, only for Sasha to grab his arm, “Where do you think you're going?” She demanded.

“To take this off! It’s too tight and we're done with it anyways.”

“Oh no we’re not!”

After threatening Mr. Hunnynuts a bit more, Max now stood by the table again, the girls sewing different things onto it. He’s positive they stabbed him more than necessary and was now going to die from blood loss.

After an hour the dress now had three layers of skirts on the bottom; light pink base, a shorter, darker pink cut with waves over that with a sparkly net covering it all. The top had patches made to look plaid, with bubble gum pink and cotton candy blue colors.

Max hated it.

“I look like a unicorn stinking threw up on me!” He complained.

“Well we weren't gonna, like, waste the good fabrik on you.” Sasha said as she pushed him to a chair by some mirrors.

“What now?”

“Make up time!”

“Oh *Beep* NO!” Before he could do anything, his arms were being tied to the chair arms, and Tabii was sitting sideways in his lap. “Tabii? What in the world are you doing?”

“Since you can escape ropes, she’s holding you down.” Kimmy explained.

“And this is the closest I’ll get to Neil holding me.” She sighed dreamily, “we should’ve taken him instead.”

The girls began the process of fixing his make-up: concealer, blush, eye shadow, they plucked his eyebrows, curled his eyelashes, gave him a thick layer of mascara, an outrageous pair of falsies, gave him bright red lipstick- the whole 9 yards. Max complained every step of the way. It took another hour. How do girls do this for fun? Why do they do it for fun?

When they finally deemed him acceptable Tabii got off and they turned him towards the mirror. “YOU GET THIS OFF MY STINKING FACE THIS INSTATE!” He screamed.

“But we’re not done yet.”

“WHAT MORE COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO TO ME?”

They got bowls of water and soaked his hands and feet in them, Mr. Hunnynuts pretty much meant they could do anything to him. After that, they each took a limb and began to file his nails, leaving it rough instead of smooth, and clipped them to the right length. They each chose a different pink shade of nail polish and painted his fingers and toes. Kimmy had left earlier, and now returned with several pairs of sandals.

“Ok, once the paint’s dry, try these on.” She demanded. He didn’t even argue, just tried on the brown pair, too tight, the pink pair was too loose, but the black pair was just right. “Perfect for showing off your new toes.”

“Jewelry time!” They led him to a box of earrings and rings, they pulled some out and tried to put it on him, “hey, his ears aren't pierced!”

“No, they aren't. And you are not piercing them?” He slammed his hands over his ears, silently terrified they'd try to do it.

But, surprisingly, they just said “fine, we’ll use the clip ons.” And boy did those hurt! They just pinched his ears so hard he thought they’d fall off. First a pair of pink diamonds, then unicorns, cats, hoops, dangly ones that made Max’s head feel heavy and finally some light pink hearts. “Perfect!” Trying on the rings was much easier… until one with a blue diamond got stuck.

“Well, if it’s not cutting off circulation, I guess it’s fine,” Erin reasoned. And they stopped trying the rings on after that, Kimmy gave him a purple heart bracelet with blue diamond highlights. “Let’s move on to the hair.”

“YOU LEAVE MY HAIR ALONE!”

They ignored him as they sprayed dry shampoo and conditioner into his fluffy black hair, making it soft and smooth. Then they began to brush, “Hey! Stop it! OW! Watch it! You're gonna pay for this- OW!” They had to retie him to the chair after only 2 minutes.

Soon his hair was in a nice braid in the back, and they heated up a hair straightener for the sides. “YOU KEEP THAT AWAY FROM ME!” They ignored him as they proceeded to straighten the curly mess, he stopped squirming after getting burnt twice.

They put hair clips with pink and blue flowers in his hair, and the hair band holding the braid had a pink heart on it. “Awe, he looks so pretty,” Kimmy teased.

“I will murder all of you for this,” Max deadpaned.

“We’ll murder the bear before that,” Sasha threatened.

“I hate you girls.”

“We know.”

“Um, Sasha, a word?” The girls huddled away from their prisoner. “It’s been three hours, what if they really don’t pay for him?” Tabii asked.

“They will, just give them time.”

“Ok, well we did all we could to him, what now? Do we just leave him tied up? Redo his makeup?” Kimmy asked.

Bella smirked, “he could do the obstacle course.” She recommended.

The others smiled, then Erin pointed out that if he fell in the mud, all their work would be wasted. “So, we put him on the Sissy Course, with foam underneath and not mud.” They all agreed.

Max was untied and led to the course, “what are we doing here?”

“Welcome to the Sissy Obstacle Course!” Tabbii said.

“Why’s it called ‘Sissy?’” He asked.

“Because if you fall you land in soft foam, not mud.” Kimmy explained.

“And why can’t I do the mud one?”

“Because when you fall, we don’t want our work to be undone.”

“Ok.” The course was a long, thin plank about 5 feet over a foam pit. It had stairs in the middle, a slick ramp at the end, and big foam swinging obstacles to knock you off. “Let’s get this over with.”

He made it past the first obstacle before falling in. “What the?” He tried three times and barely got past the second one. “Are you kidding me? This is impossible!” He complained.

“Oh yeah?” The girls placed a book on their heads and began; to Max’s surprise, they made it all the way to the end on the first try. “How about now?”

Max was dumbfounded, then said “give me a book!” It took 3 tries, but he did it. “There, now are we done?

“Not until you do it in heels!” It took Max 20-minutes and a lot of falling just to learn to walk in the death traps called heels, but he finally did it. He looked Sasha in the eyes, “I am not stinking doing that course in heels! Do you stinkin hear me?”

“Oh, I, like, see how it is; You’re, like, scared of falling.” Sasha smirked.

“No, I’m, like, not!” He argued as he grabbed his book and began. It took 13 tries. But he did it, barely. “Happy? Can I go now?”

“Yes, and no; You don’t leave until we get our money.”

“OH COME ON!”

They led him to Sasha’s cabin, and sat him on the bed. “Ok, next activity-”

“I’m a prisoner, you don’t have to torcher me.”

“Picture poses!” Tabbii said, ignoring him.

“Well, at least that's easy,” Max lived to regret those words.

Tabii stood in the middle of the room, stuck one leg out to make a triangle, put one hand on the leg and the other on her hype. “Your turn.”

Max rolled his eyes, but got up and copied the pose, only to fall to the floor, “What the what? Why is that so hard?”

“By sticking out your leg, it messes with your balance.” Kimmy explained, “plus you're wearing heels.”

“Stupid heels.” He tried again and again… to the same results. It took him 5 tries until the girls deemed it good enough.

Next he had to sit in the middle of the bed, one leg in the triangle pose, the other stretched out. That only took 2 tries. They practiced 3 more poses before Max snapped “can we stinkin move on, please!”

The girls shared an evil look, then Bella said “ok.”

“Thank stinking tastic!”

“Flirting now!”

“OH *BEEP* NO!” He tried to run, but Tabii tackled him.

“Relax, we're not really flirting with you, just, like, practicing on you.” Bella explained.

“But why? Now when you do it to Neil or the others, I’ll know.”

“Exactly! Boys never take a hint, and now when someones flirting with one, you can tell him!”

“If you want us to know, you should make it obvious!” Max argued.

The girls froze, and Sasha asked “what do you mean?”

Max sighed, “try it on me.”

“Ok,” Tabii released him, Sasha walked up to him, she batted her eyes and smiled. “Hey handsome, have you, like, been looking for someone-”

“What the what was that?” Max interrupted.

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“You didn’t need to: If I was in a mall and you just walked up and asked me that, I’d say ‘yeah, Neil’s wearing a yellow shirt, have you seen him?’ or ‘no, are you ok?’” He explained, “that just sounds creepy.”

“HMM!” She huffed and stomped away.

Kimmy walked up to him, “do you play soccer? ‘Cause you're a keeper!”

“Better, but what if they’re into the other football?” Max smirked.

“If you were a Netflix show, I’d watch you for hours,” Erin tried.

“Creepy.”

“Well, you try it!” Sasha demanded.

“Gladly,” he walked up to Sasha, “you got a band-aid? Cause I scraped my knee falling for you.”

“Gross.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Corny.”

“Are you from Nashville? ‘Cause you're the only 10 I see.”

She gave him a look, “seriously?”

“Oh, if someone else said that to you, you’d have a new boyfriend before he realized how horrible you really are.” Max replied.

Sasha got red in the face, clearly angry, then said, in a calm voice: “Where did I put that bear?”

“YOU LEAVE MR. HUNNYNUTS ALONE!” He lunged for her, but Bella held him back.

“I got it,” Tabii said, holding the beloved bear out of reach. “We’ll forgive you, Max, if you tell me how to get Neil to like me.” The rest of the girls smirked, knowing there was no way that was going to happen.

“I don’t know what to tell you, other than be smart around him.” Max answered honestly.

“WHAT THE WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” The deranged girl held a knife to the bear’s neck.

“Ok, what I mean is Neil doesn’t care about looks, he cares about how smart you are. So, when you're around him, say smart things.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Learn some fun facts: Explain how photosynthesis works. How a circuit board works, how to do magic tricks with logic, he hates magic. Say the earth is round, just anything smart!” Max explained.

“Wait, but the earth is flat!” Bella stated.

Everyone froze and looked at her, then Max said “if you do ever get Neil, you don’t have to worry about Bella stealing him from you.”

“HEY!”

“Ok, thanks Max,” Tabii handed him the bear.

“TABII! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” By the time Sasha finished the sentence, Max was halfway to the Messhall, getting his stuff.

. . .

“Well campers, I hope you all enjoyed your nap!” David said.

“It wasn’t a nap, it was sleeping all day,” Neil pointed out. Within a couple hours, darkness would be upon the camp once again.

“Well I hope the wolves come back tonight!” Nikki said, “I want to be pack leader!”

Everyone just kind of stared at her, then Gwen said “Today and tomorrow are dedicated to getting back on a regular sleep schedule. So… I don’t know: Exercise now so you’ll be tired by night time or something, I don’t really know.”

David looked at the group, and did a head count. “Has anyone seen Max?”

“I thought he was still sleeping,” Niel replied.

Gwen and David shared a look, “for 13 hours straight?”

“Maybe he was faking sleeping during the hike? I wouldn’t put it past him.” Gewn reasoned, though worry was in her voice.

“I hope he’s not getting sick. I’ll go check on him-”

“What's that?” Nurf cut him off.

From the entrance of the clearing came a figure dressed head to toe in pink, slowly trudging toward the group. “I don’t know, but I’ll get rid of it.” Nikki volunteered, dropping to all fours and running at it.

“NIKKI, STOP! IT COULD BE DANGEROUS!”

“NIKKI, DOWN, IT’S ME!” Max’s voice cut across the clearing.

“FALSE ALARM GUYS, IT’S JUST MAX!” Nikki called back, “DRESSED IN A DRESS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MAX?”

Sure enough, they reached the group and Max was in a dress, face caked in make-up, high heels replaced his shoes, and jewelry completed the look. In his hands were his pants, hoodie, shirt and shoes. And Mr. Hunnynuts. “I, like, don’t want to, like, talk about it.”

“Makeover plus saying ‘like’” Nikki gasped, “you’ve been with the Flower Scouts! You trader!”

“Yeah,” Max turned to David, “were you, like, gonna pay the ransom or leave me with those jerks?”

David looked confused; “Ransom?”

“Yeah, like, the Flower Scouts kidnapped me and, like, left a ransom for you to get me back.” Max explained.

The counselor's shared a look, Gwent then said “Max, we never got a ransom note.”

“WHAT!” “We never got one, and we just woke up like 10 minutes ago,” David explained.

“But, like, it was for like 300 boxes of cookies!” Just as he said it, the camp platypus walked up and threw-up a soggy, pink paper. “Well, that explains that. I’m going to bed.” As he walked back with his posture perfect, the rest of the camp, save David, began to laugh.

. . .

It took 2 showers and a lot of makeup wipes to get all the makeup off. Neil had to cut him out of the dress, and Max swears it would’ve been easier to cut his finger off than have gwen try to get that stupid ring off.

For days Nurf asked him for makeup advice and his opinion on which of Preston’s play dresses were prettier, and even longer to stop saying like every other sentence. He was going to make those girls pay, and he got his chance a week later when they kidnapped Neil. Between Nikki and Max, they made sure those girls knew exactly what hit them.

. . .

I, for one, hate having my hair and makeup done, so I tourchered Max best I could. I hope you have a great day!

#max camp camp #camp camp #camp camp tabii #camp camp sasha #camp camp erin #camp camp flower scouts

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locktobre · 2 years

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I watched the Mermaid Power leak bc I was slightly excited so here we go, obviously spoilers

Isla changed her hair?? still her tho... OR IS IT? they don’t even MENTION her hair being different, that’s SO fucking weird. have they met her since Florida? WE certainly fucking haven’t!

mermaids with nonhuman skin colors is interesting. idk how I feel about it.

since the kingdom is called Pacifica, I’m going to be generous and assume it’s in the Pacific Ocean... which begs the question of why Isla was all the way in the Atlantic in Dolphin Magic. I mean yeah she could swim there, but why would she? just to hang out with dolphins?

the Ceremony of the Mermaid Moon, the Golden Pearl, the 8 mermaids competing to be the Power Keeper for 100 years... that is a lot to absorb all at once and I don’t know what to make of it. why make them compete? I guess it’s supposed to be the Best and Strongest mermaid, or something, but... very odd.

so weird to see such a weird cartoony background while they’re singing in the boat, I don’t care for the style at all

this is a really shitty upload so I can’t tell but it LOOKS like Brooklyn doesn’t have her freckles anymore which is super weird. her doll doesn’t have them either which I didn’t really notice until now. wtf

they changed the voice actors for Stacie and Chelsea and I hate it

since WHEN do they use Isla’s necklace for transforming? since fucking WHEN? it was just a beacon before! WHAT IS THIS

the underwater hair animation is quite good

so weird to see Marlo again... also was her grandma a mermaid? is that what I’m supposed to believe? I’m happy to believe that, I’m just confused

ok so Marlo is kinda bringing up a point I have wondered about in the barbieverse for quite some time which is... that mermaids hide from humans. but HOW? HOW, with the technology we have, do they manage that? we’ve got submarines and underwater cameras and satellites taking pictures of everything all the time, yes we don’t know everything in the ocean, not by a longshot, but SURELY there’s SOMEONE out there who has observed SOMETHING before and since Marlo did. SURELY. like yes it is an outlandish thing to say, except... HOW do mermaids hide? how do they KNOW to hide from these things, when they don’t know the surface? how aware are they of the ways that humans can discover them? EXPLAIN EXPLAIN EXPLAIN

I like the shark not being an instant enemy but the dog mannerisms are weird.

glad I already decided on having separate universes and backstories for magic bc these are absolutely not the mermaids I know. absolutely fucking not. but I can make my peace with it bc this is an entirely different timeline from my main one. I can totally make my peace with that. yep.

is Isla’s hair being different and the necklace being different all crap I can blame on Morton fucking with the timeline? that’s usually my go to but it seems extreme in this case... but if I DON’T do that I may go insane. I guess I’m doing it.

so they have a vaquita/porpoise friend for “Isla” but no mention of the gemstone dolphins... excuse me

when Aquaria says she was born without a tail, they’re kinda focusing on her fin, so is it the whole tail or just the fin? I am just wondering how it all works. this may be clearer when I’m watching the full quality version

since when does Isla have any magic? she’s a basic bitch she has nothing

AQUARIA’S SINGING VOICE IS SO JARRING AVSHSHSJSB

how are they gonna have a mermaid movie with such forgettable songs

this whole elemental mermaid thing is very intriguing. many implications that I do not have time to deal with now.

no offense Pacifica is the ugliest underwater location we have seen in the whole franchise

mermaids only eat seaweed, apparently... how is that nutritious? and how did Isla not die eating bread? so many questions there.

can only mermaids of air go on land? or... for that matter, if mermaids don’t like humans, or at least some of them don’t, and Corellia(?) as a leader seems to be distrustful at the very least... why aren’t they concerned about the Barbies being there? or the fact that “Isla” told them her secret? IS it a secret, or not? is Marlo’s whole quest for nought? like yeah the scientist laughed at her but mermaids don’t seem to care if they stay secret, do they? Isla did but that doesn't mean anything

they did a closeup, Brooklyn DOES have her freckles... but why doesn’t her doll

YAY STACIE DID A THING I'M SO PROUD OF HER

I think even “Isla’s” TAIL is different, what the fuck is going on? I’ll have to get good screencaps to compare and be sure but I swear it doesn't look the same

love that this movie continues the trend of Malibu being shit at things it’s so funny

how old is Aquaria supposed to be? she’s about Chelsea’s size, but she seems way more mature than Chelsea. on the other hand, if she’s 7 no wonder no one is fucking listening to her lmao

how did Finn and Aquaria lose their parents... did The Pollution kill them? (I actually have a post about pollution killing mermaids in my merillia tag, but that’s another universe)

I can’t BELIEVE I got mermaid Marlo technically right TWO YEARS AGO. I am a prophet and anyone doubting me will be made to believe.

did Grandma talk to Marlo thru the crown? was that a memory? wha

fun to see them actually using their magic a lot, we don’t really get magic battles in barbie

I will accept Aquaria being the Power Keeper but it’s fucked up for Malibu, of all ppl, to be the one to say it. she doesn’t know jack shit about mermaids except what she has seen over the last 45 minutes, that is AWFULLY presumptuous of her.

Aquaria and Chelsea have crushes on each other I think (assuming they are the same age, I still don’t know what to make of Aquaria tbh)

the hair animation is better, but I still think Pearl Princess captured underwater movement so much better. it was a step up from Mermaidia and the Mermaid Tales, and it seems we plateaued there. in 2014. sad.

if the mermaids with technicolor skintones transformed, would they keep their skintones or get human ones? is it a human disguise they get, or just legs? this is a very important distinction

how does this all intersect with that DA episode about the mermaid who does the whale migration or whatever... I mean I can assume that she’s a water mermaid but glad they’re not acknowledging any of that at all, why would they!

the ending seemed very abrupt but with the cuts and skips I can’t be sure if that's intentional lmao

In conclusion... I have never watched Scooby Doo Return to Zombie Island bc I love myself but that is the vibe I get from this movie. a broad strokes sequel that changes anything it wants bc fuck it. the difference being that Zombie Island is a beloved classic and Dolphin Magic sucked a lot, but I digress.

I was quite excited for the possibility of Dolphin Magic finally being referenced after being apparently forgotten since 2017 (despite the inclusion of several mermaid themed episodes in DA), but in the end, I would almost rather they didn’t, bc it has almost nothing to do with Dolphin Magic, and the stuff it does bring back doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. like why bother? at the end of the day? disappointing, the lot of it. but it is probably the only real source of mermaid lore we will get for the DAverse so I must be prepared to study it anyway I suppose. this is my lot in life.

#mel irl #barbie babbles #barbie spoilers #beyond the mirror: mermaid power

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061801 · 2 months

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#randomcomplaining I gotta have the most fucked up group of friends ever. I need to classify each group because if I go back and read these for myself I wanna know who I’m talking about.

Ok so we’ll do:

Exhibit A- will just be my closest guy friend cuz I hangout with him a lot

Exhibit B- my brother, his bf, and our best friend (I don’t think I ever really complain about them besides when I argue with my brother but i will probs write about good things too)

Exhibit C- old workers from my first job (2 girls)

Exhibit D- old coworkers from my recent job (4 girls)

I wanna explain each group and why I feel like idrk if I want these ppl in my life except for a small exception of exhibit B because they’re basically family. Only thing is they all use substances that really influence my decisions on whether I use or not which is not their fault but it’s toxic for me to be around that environment. Otherwise

exhibit A- started off as just a friendship, we both told each other about guys and girls we liked or wanted to be with. Then he developed a crush on me which was fine for me at first cuz it’s not rly my problem (respectfully) now he’s overly touchy like even being in public he’ll try and grab my leg and make it seem like we’re dating or something and I feel like he just wanted to assert dominance to other men in the room like “don’t touch her she’s mine” WHEN IM NOT LOL. At first I felt bad but I’m so fucking sick of people feeling so bad for him because he’s so nice and he loves me so much. He’s a great person, but not for me. And idk why people can’t just respect that and stop making me out to be a villain because I don’t have feelings for someone. This is kinda my fault I guess but I used to change in front of him and I didn’t rly care cuz I thought we had established that we’re just friends. Well now when I ask him to look away he really thinks he has the right to go “no I’ve seen it before idc.” Or most the time he does look away but gives me a hard time. There’s even been times where he looked back and was like OH MY BAD I thought u were done like no u didn’t lol u just wanted to be a fucking perv. So obviously I’ve established new boundaries, I go to my bathroom to change, I literally scream at him when he touches me, I always talk about guys. That’s the funny thing too he calls me such a whore and I’m fake just cuz I don’t wanna be with him.

Exhibit C: I actually really love these girls. I’ve never had any issues with them. Tbh the only reason I ever debate if I should let them go is because I feel like I’ve been a bad friend. We all started to be friends because we worked at the same job and we all liked to party and we were all lowkey a little weird. We moved on in life and they both have full time jobs, both in relationships, and I’m still partying like a maniac so I think they just don’t want to be around that which I totally understand. I started to feel sad because they never invite me to places they go but that’s cuz they don’t always wanna be all drunk and fucked up and tbh I never ask them to do shit either so in the middle of this post I acc asked if they all wanted to hangout and play video games

Exhibit D: ok this group of ppl confuses the fuck out of me. Everybody talks about each other like someone’s always mad at one particular person in the group I feel like, or worried about someone. I’ve had one person in this group steal from me. She’s jealous of all of us. One of the girls in the friend group only talks to me when nobody else is really there otherwise I get ignored I feel like. Sometimes I feel like they’re just trolling me too but that could be my insecurities. These people never ask me to hangout anymore and tbh I don’t rly care lol I hung out with them when I was in a really bad spot in my life and although they’re not the reason for it I just associate them with that time unfortunately. I don’t mean to but yeah

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no-vamos · 8 months

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Today’s updates consist offfffff

So i told another one of my friends who my crush was today

and istg her reaction was so funny

bc it started out with me needing to freak out to someone else besides my bsf and her bf so i turned to like my clone lmao (we have the same legal name and have basically the same hobbies and interests and both have brown hair we’re like the same person lmao)

So i was like (actually I don’t remember how I started the conversation but I think I told her why I had been in the athletics hallway before play practice)

bc i was talking to my crush then

and she was like wait who and i was like uhhhhh bc like i like him but also i know he’s not everyone’s type and is also kinda a developed taste lmao

and she was like you don’t have to tell me and i was like no it’s fine guess

and she was like ok so he’s on the xc team, is he in your grade? and i was like no

AND THEN SHE GUESSED HIM ON THE FIRST GUESS and i was like omg am i really that obvious and she was like no not really he’s the only junior i remember being on the xc team and like you wouldn’t like your bsf’s bf bc that’d be weird and i was like yeah duh

and then i think she either mentioned how i had said he was in my youth group or something

and then i was explaining how yesterday when i stopped to talk to her in front of the chemistry room prior to physics i was really talking to her then and there so i could see if he would be watching me (which he was) and she was like OH i remember that, i had entered the room and was really scared he hated me or something bc he had been looking out the door (with his deadpan face)

that was another thing we talked about

bc she was like i don’t know much about him except that when he talks to people his face is completely neutral

but when he’s talking to me he’s like half smiling usually

and then she was like wait is that why he was always looking towards us during choir

bc i also explained how that was another thing that happened between us

and i was like YEA and she was like THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE NOW

and then she was like now i’m gonna watch when he’s looking at you for like statistics

bc we also talked about how sometimes you make eye contact with someone and it seems like they had been looking at you a long time and i’m like omg that happens with us

and then i told her how we’re getting baptized around the same time (basically together i think) and she was like omg that’s so cute

and all of this was prompted bc i got an email from my youth pastor about the sermon i’m gonna help her with in december and like the meeting times for going over that scripture and i had vaguely remembered her saying one or two other people were gonna help with this as well

AND GUESS WHO ELSE WAS TAGGED IN THE EMAIL??????

HIMMMMAEOIFHOISHFOIH and i was like half freaking out about it bc like wtf

and my bsf was like girl what calm down

so like my bsf is my sanity and is like telling me not to obsess over this guy

and my clone is like girlie you guys are my otp now i ship so hard

and it was so funny bc she and i had this conversation in like five minutes and i was also explaining how we’re “talking” but not really “talking” bc nothing has actually been said but isn’t that basically what talking is

and she was like wait are you guys texting and i’m like no i’m too awkward for that

but we had a two hour conversation on saturday

of which he could’ve left but he didn’t so that has to mean something right

and she’s like omg right

and i also explained how we’re like mirror images of each other in terms of like, he wants to be an architect and i want to do math and art but not architecture

and then i was also explaining how like it also has to mean something that he thinks i’m at least somewhat smart

bc yea it doesn’t matter what he thinks but he’s also kind of like, doesn’t associate himself with people he thinks are less intelligent

but i’m smart af and like we’ve had conversations before and stuff and like he’s expressed some sort of like respect for me

and i was telling her about church retreat and that one time i was expressing how i didn’t like a certain teachers classes and he was like well most people who don’t like his courses don’t like the workload and i was like well that makes me sound lazy and he’s like well you’re an exception and she was like omg the backtrack like he cares and i was like rightttt?????

she’s feeding the delusion so much and like now it’s all i can think about

I also had made the excuse to go hang out in the athletics hallway bc i was trying to find my bsf and forgot where she was (she was up the street at a voice lesson) and her brother was in the hallway too as well as my crush and less important bc he’s still technically my friend but also my ex

ANYWAYS point being i talked with them a while about things mostly bc i wanted to be where my crush was and he just

observes

so much

i desperately want to know what he thinks of me bc he just watches me so… intensely? you know what i mean

it’s also kinda funny bc, for reasons being we share the same name and i currently am borderline obsessed with this guy, i would have the most massive crush on my clone like

she’s gorgeous and so nice but also a really great friend so i appreciate her in that aspect

but also the fact that she is gonna keep an eye out for our reactions a bit more

and honestly her saying that we’re her otp makes me want to make a ship name for us

but the moment i do that things usually spiral out of control

so i’m gonna avoid that by making one and then not telling anyone

oh another update and then i’ll stop

my bsf’s bf is like seriously judging me in ap bio rn bc we’re studying a process that shares the same name as the guy i like so i keep making half jokes about that and then he gives me his disgruntled judging cat glare and i’m like whattttt i’m doing serious bio things

not making vague references to the guy i like that you’re also friends with bc you run xc together

but i had made a joke about being the athletics hallway to do bio review lmao

also i’m like so nervous about making eye contact with him bc he’s just so intense

but also super endearing he’s like such a guy so awkward

#crush thoughts

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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korasonata · 3 years

Text

I had someone last time ask me about time stamps, so all of these from this point out will have the time stamp at the top of each set of quotes. I am currently in the process of retrieving the time stamps for the previous 5 posts, and will link an updated version when I have retrieved them all.

Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1149389841

Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model streams part 6!

(I am very sorry I tried very hard to make this not as long as it is. There will probably be another extended cut post because there was just SO much happening in this stream)

—

00:00:57

Cleo: Welcome to the stream. Mine and/or Joes. Or, both.

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: I suppose that’s what the “and” means. In that statement. That would make sense. Glue pot’s ready—

Joe: It makes sense to me.

Cleo: …that makes me even more nervous that it makes sense to you, Joe. Not gonna lie.

—

00:16:34

Joe: So, anyway, last night at dinner, uh, like I— I had put this interview on while I was cooking and I kinda left it on as my daughter sat down for dinner and I was like “hey, this is an interview with this very famous journalist from about 50 years ago. Uh, he’s got a really interesting voice and a really interesting cadence, and I wanna kind of listen to it so I can— maybe copy it as like a joke in one of my videos.” And my daughter listens to it for about a— a minute—

Cleo: And then says “now that’s— is that you?”

Joe: *laughing* She just turns to me and she’s like “my friend…her parents got her…did you know they make crayon applesauce now? It says crayola. It tastes. Like they’ve blended a brown crayon. And sprinkled it on top.”

Cleo: That sounds grim.

Joe (prideful laughing): And it just kind of matches the cadence while also talking about something terrible to ingest?*laughing* And I just start cracking up because like— *laughing continues* she gets it! And she’s just like “why are you laughing?” Because you just— you nailed it! You nailed the pauses, you— you nailed the subject matter, like this is— this is just great!! And she’s like “no! This is a real thing! This crayon applesauce is terrible!” And I’m just laughing and laughing and she’s like trying to explain why it’s not good, and I’m like “I understand why it’s not good, but—“

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe’s daughter is awesome.” I think you’re probably correct. Joe’s daughter is indeed awesome.

Joe: Yeah, I’m very very happy with my daughter. (Reading chat) What was for dinner? Well not crayola applesauce!

—

Cleo (in response to someone complimenting her 3rd Life videos): Awe! Thank you joytobake, that’s really nice! I am…always pleased when people like my personality. Because I’m never sure that people should, you know?

Joe: Yeah, that’s— that’s what we were talking about— I think before we started streaming, was like, Cleo really gets me, and that’s a huge red flag.

Cleo: That’s a— yeah. As a human being. Understanding Joe - massive red flag. Huge. This is a danger. To everybody. And particularly Joe.

Joe: It’s the terror of being truly known.

—

00:47:08

Joe: Up until this point I didn’t show the instructions, but now I feel like I have to.

Cleo: Because otherwise people are going to judge your competency?

Joe: Yeah! They’re gonna go “ok. Any idiot can figure out how these pieces go together” but if you look at these instructions, that’s not true. I’m a spectacular idiot, and I have no idea what I’m doing with these.

Cleo: I mean. I want— I want to confirm. Yes. Spectacular.

Joe: Yes. Thank you Cleo.

Cleo: *snicker* You’re welcome Joe. I always like to insult the people I care about the most.

Joe (quietly): I know…I appreciate it.

Cleo (Watching chat): I’m waiting for Cam to confirm that.

(Cam in chat: She insults me SO MUCH, she called me a gibbon last night…)

—

00:59:42

Joe: *reading tips*

Cleo (reading chat): “you can’t stop Joe when he’s on a role.” This is true.

Joe (not paying attention): *still reading tips*

Cleo: I mean you can, you just have to go: Joe. Joe. JOE. And then he stops sometimes.

Joe (quietly, but with emphasis): WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!?

Cleo: I’M DOING A THING!

—

01:00:46

Joe (reading tips): “This is an encouragement donation for more of you singing in the future.” Ooo, I think Cleo would like that because the future is not now.

—

01:02:23

Cleo (genuine singing): Ground control to major Tom…

Joe: *listening in awe*

Cleo: …That’s…pretty much all I know…

Joe: Oh, I was gonna let you keep going, I— I wanted to hear more.

Cleo: Oh no. That’s pretty much all I know.

Joe: But yeah. Hypothermic haddoc writes (singing) “tell my wife I love her very much!” …I was waiting for you to jump in with the (singing) “she knoooooows!”

Cleo: Again. Again, I don’t know the song very well.

Joe: Oh. And here I am sitting in my tin can—

—

01:47:54

Cleo: *leaves to get a drink*

Joe: While you’re getting your drink I guess I’ll provide some musical entertainment.

SILENCE

Joe: …I don’t have anything prepared. So, let’s see…do we have any birthdays? *laughing* if it’s anybody’s birthday I’ll sing to you while Cleo’s gone.

Cleo: I’m back.

Joe: Oh ok. Well, sorry birthday boys. And girls.

Cleo: feel free to sing to people. I’m sure people want that.

Joe: no…well, I was gonna do it while you were away cause I need to get up and get my drink as soon as you’re back.

Cleo: Oh, go and get a drink and I will sing happy birthday—

Joe: So I’m gonna go get my drink, I’ll be right back.

Cleo: —to people who have chosen to spend their birthday…here…I’m not judging, uh, but— (upbeat singing) Happy Birthday to you! You smell like a zoo! (Talking) …uh, etcetera etcetera… (Singing) I forgot how this song goes! Nevermind it sucks to be you! *blows a raspberry*

—

01:49:09

Cleo: I mean it’s Cams birthday on Saturday, and I will sing to Cam on his birthday. His birthday is not today. I mean he probably wants me to not sing to him on his birthday, to be fair—

[Cam: Please don’t sing to me]

Cleo: —but you know, I might do it anyway. Cause it’s obnoxious. And I will laugh. (Reading chat) “Happy Birthday! Here’s some genocide! Please don’t sing to me…” *laughing* I won’t sing to you if you don’t want me to, Honey.

[Cam: Not happy birthday at least lol]

Cleo: I might torture you in other ways though.

—

01:50:55

Cleo: Hiiiiii Jooooooe.

Joe: Hello! Joe Hiws hewe! I am back fwom my dwink bweak!

Cleo: …what is that voice?

Joe (in a Kermit the Frog/Swedish Chef/Yoda hybrid of an accent): I feewl wike it’s fwom home star wunner or something, I don’t know! It’s almost Kermit THe Fwog Hewe, but not quITe!

*Cleo laughing*

It’s a little— (Normal voice) I dunno. I still had some of my drink in my throat, so I was like— I didn’t wanna like accidentally cough it out on the microphone as soon as I started talking. So I was just like (weird voice continues) I’ll do thIS vOIce

*Squealing giggling from Cleo*

(Same iteration of previous accent now blended somehow with the voice of Goofy from Micky Mouse) It’ll keep my mOUth in a shape that if I start— me coughing up a dwink it’ll just go into the chEEks on EIther sIde. It’s a natuwal, uh bARRier against, uh, hydration escapism! Uh yuh!!

Cleo: *giggles* Ok Joe. Ok.

Joe: *high pitched laughing* I don’t know Cleo! I’m just gonna keep making noises until people give me money! It’s jus— it’s how I pay rent.

Cleo: *laughing* Making noises until people give you— ahhhh…..

Joe: Yeah

Cleo: — actually…..yeah. Yeah. Yeah…Um (reading chat) “it’s drunk Kermit” *wheezing*

Joe (drunk Kermit The Frog voice): It’s 5:00 somewhere!

Cleo: *laughing* thanks for this. I needed— I needed this moment of— of— whatever this was.

—

01:53:54

Joe: So my daughter said the most Wednesday Adams thing to me the other day—

Cleo: Oh no

Joe: Except she didn’t do the deadpan delivery. She was very upbeat about this. So apparently “UP” has, on Dinsey+ a series of shorts about the old man and the dog. Right? And they’re called something like “a Dougs Life” cause Doug is the name of the dog

Cleo: yeah.

Joe: and she goes “oh! And it’s short! Like a dogs lifespan!”

SILENCE

Cleo: …Your…kid is very much your kid, you know that right?

Joe (proud dad): I know right?!

—

01:58:20

Cleo: I mean…you’d kill it at the Met Galla. Not gonna lie.

Joe (excited): Oh my god— I wanna get one of those Manuel suits that has like all the rhinestones and the flowers on it? Um, but, you know, like, those are very expensive.

Cleo: We live with what we can afford. Maybe someone can make you a Diamond encrusted suit that you can wear on camera. And have all the sparkles as green.

Joe (very excited): Oh my gosh— actually— so—

02:20:45

Joe: Meanwhile in my Discord everyone’s posting what they describe as “eye searingly beautiful” lime green wedding dresses. For my next wedding. Um—

Cleo: *snicker* is that what you’re wearing for your next wedding?

Joe: you know, honestly at this point I don’t wanna make any assumptions about anything.

Cleo: *cackling*

—

02:31:07

(This is context for the next one)

Cleo (reading chat): “some people have too much time on their hands” I mean, I personally would not drive 8 hours to see— um…

Joe: …me?

Cleo: I dunno, I might drive 8 hours to see you.

Joe: I offered to drive 8 hours to see you when you were coming to Disney and you said no, so I’m gonna assume that you would not drive 8 hours to see me.

Cleo: I mean, I— li— the key word there was “might”. I wou— I would have to have my mini frea— well I was freaked out at that point. When you offered, and and I was just like “oh god no.” Because, you know, social anxiety is a thing.

Joe: Mhm. I’ve heard of that.

Cleo: Yeah. And I do not do well particularly meeting people for the first time, even people I’ve known for a while. I go very very quiet and umm…I think it’s worse actually with people that I’ve known for a while? Um, online, um…because— cause my brain goes “well you’re gonna make a s—your, your— your going to do something and say something stupid. You going— they’re gonna hate you in real life” um…so, yeah. My brain absolutely freaked out at that moment.

—

02:34:12

Cleo: But, you know, like I say, I get hate mail on the regular, it’s fine. I mean part of that is daring to be a woman on the Internet, but only part. The other part is the fact that I’m also an awful human being. So, you know.

SILENCE

Cleo: …the silence isn’t doing— the silence doesn’t do you— do me any favours Joe.

Joe: Well, you know, I didn’t wanna talk over you when you’re sharing your insecurities.

Cleo: yeah….

Joe: That seems rude.

Cleo: I mean—

Joe: So I wanted to make sure you were done.

Cleo: no no no no, that’s fine. I’m always done Joe.

Joe: And nOW I can actually tell you how I really feel.

Cleo: No, please don’t. Not onl— no. That will— that will make me even more uncomfortable.

Joe (upbeat singing): The praise train is on its way!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: Noooooooooooooooooo!! Nooo!!

Joe: For Cleo it’s her day!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *noises of distress*

Joe: Cleo is really great!! Choo choo!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *distressful crying*

Joe: She’s not merely ok!! She doesn’t have to be the best at talking to people for the first time!! Cause they’ll love her anyway!! And sometimes they’ll even rhyyyme!! Yay for Cleo!!

Cleo: *physically going through a full body cringe* noooo

Joe: See, it would have been rude if I did that in the middle of your thing.

Cleo: *sob laughing*

Joe: That would not have been socially acceptable.

Cleo (through tears): I’m not even sure it was socially acceptable now.

Joe: WHY NOT?!

Cleo: (sobbing and laughing simultaneously) I hate you so much.

—

02:38:05

Cleo (reading chat): “We all need a Joe in our life, who sings a theme song for us when we’re talking ourselves down” I’m not sure you do.

Joe: Yeah, that wasn’t really a theme song? Like, if I was gonna do a theme song for Cleo—

Cleo (with immense dread): Oh no…no…no…

—

02:43:07

Joe: I’d just like to point out (very obnoxiously high pitched voice) That this is Cleo’s average person voice, which means that 50% of people have an even higher pitched voice!

Cleo: …You know, I can’t actually stab Joe through the Internet. And I’ve always been upset about that.

—

02:53:36

Joe (with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year old girl gossiping at a slumber party): Ooo I wanna ask Cleo about giiiiiirls!!!

Cleo: Ask me about girls! I’m— I’m happy for you to ask me about girls.

Joe: Ok, so, do you— do you feel comfortable saying what your specific, uh, type of woman is? I’m— I’m curious about that.

Cleo: Um, it’s— it’s nerdy girls? Specifically. Umm…not too, um…you know, the kind of running, climbing, you know— sort of— person. You know, it’s— it’s the sort of— it’s the sort of— action girl kinda thing. I kinda like that type. That’s sort of my type.

Joe: Mhm. Yeah, like—

Cleo: Why, what’s your type of girl?

Joe: Well, uh, usually it’s somebody that is— very anti authority— un— un— dissatisfied with the status quo. So usually more punk, or that sort of thing.

Cleo: Yeah. That’s— that’s— that sort of plays into the action girl sort of thing as well. Yeah I get that. So yeah.

Joe: yeah, umm, you— yeah so I don’t know. Um— so not necessarily, uh, as focused on the athleticism element there, but I know like—

Cleo: Well it’s not really athleticism, it’s— it’s more— it’s more—

Joe: —in terms of like, um, hiking, cause like, uh, you know in college there’s like a climbing and camping club or whatever—

Cleo: Oh yeah, it’s not that sort of person. It’s— it’s more, um…getting out and having a go at things. Like, you know, not— not being afraid to—

Joe: Adventurous

Cleo: Yeah! Adventurous! That’s the word!

—

Cleo (whispering): I don’t know where this bit goes! *gasp* it goes over there!

Joe (whispering): You can do it!

Cleo: I can do it! I believe in me!

Joe: You’ll find a place to glue it! It doesn’t necessarily have to be the right place!

Cleo: I know!

Joe: You’re equally valid regardless!

Cleo: Thanks Joe!

Joe: You’re welcome!

Cleo: It’s appreciated!

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joehills #joe hills #long post

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Note

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

#genshin impact spoilers #answered #Anonymous

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

You are not gonna meet them

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Summary: How will their beloved intern react, when the BAU is able to profile that she is seeing someone?

Warnings: One swear word (for the sake of a vine reference)

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

__________________________________

“What is their name?” Confused (Y/N) takes her eyes off the cup of her favorite hot beverage. To make sure Derek really speaks to her, she turns around in the breakroom. It’s only the two of them. “Whose name? I’m (Y/N), but Derek I work here for two months already. Aren’t you a little too young to suffer from Alzheimer’s yet?”

He laughs into his own cup before taking a sip. “You are seeing someone. Don’t try to hide that from a bunch of profilers, there is no use in that.”

Being the ever stoic and mature teenager, she sticks her tongue out. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m the CEO of being an open book. But spill your tea about your deductions, Sherlock.”

“As you wish, Watson. You are wearing tinted lip balm instead of your usual clear lip balm. I saw you reapplying it after you dropped off some files in Hotch’s office. Also you have a new hairstyle, which looks quite nice on you. In addition to that you wear a bottom up and I saw you wearing one only once and that was when you had to dress up for an undercover thing. Therefore I come to the conclusion that this is your definition of dressing up and I see no reason for it except you want to impress someone and I know for a fact that everybody in this building is too old for you. So, what’s their name?”

“Whatever”, (Y/N) breathes under her breath and makes an effort to escape this interrogation. But Spencer, who also decided it’s time for the trillions refill of his cup of sugar with a drop of coffee, stands in the doorway. “Spencer, can you please step aside? I have work to do”, she asks him sighing. But the genius doesn’t bulge.

(Y/N) looks dumbfounded at her coworker and friend. “I- that was pretty good. But you haven’t considered that I may have a meeting with our dear Section Chief regarding my future in the FBI.” At the end she smiles, thinking she has won this round. “I did”, Morgan answers, wiping the grin from her face, “ and I know again for a fact that this meeting is next week, because Hotch is seeing her today to talk about that subject. So, what are they like?”

“Oh, does our favorite intern have a love interest? (Y/N), why didn’t you tell me anything?” Emily asks as she enters the breakroom. “No, I don-” “Princess, I told you it isn’t possible to lie to us. We are basically human lie detectors.”

“I heard tea and I want you to spill it.” He says, proud to put the phrase she taught him a while ago in the right context. “There is not tea, just a lame glass of water”, (Y/N) responds and squeezes past him. The three profilers look at each other in confusion. Attracted by her confounding statement, they follow her to her desk.

“Why are you stalking the child?” Rossi asks with Hotch hot on his heels. “(Y/N) is seeing someone, but isn’t willing to tell us anything about them. Now we try to pry every bit of information from her”, Spencer explains.

The talked about subject sits at her desk, acting like nothing just occurred while going through some reports. “Are you talking about her crush?” JJ joins the group observation. Everybody looks at her in shock. “What do you know about this?” Derek may be a bit overprotective over his favorite princess.

“Probably not more than you. I just saw her smiling down at her phone and I didn’t spot a cute dog or cat picture so I figured it has to be an important someone”, JJ explains whilst shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t like this guessing. Why don’t we just ask her?” Rossi is up and goes to (Y/N), the calls of his team members falling on deaf ears.

As the teenager hears the oncoming footsteps, she lifts her head and spies the older Italian. “Not you, too.” A groan leaves her lips while rubbing her forehead in distress. “Bambi, think of it as that: The earlier you confess to your lies, the earlier your conscience is lifted. So tell us about them, will you?”

The rest of the team inches closer to the duo, while (Y/N) contemplates her choices. “Well that is interesting. But what’s also interesting is: I don’t give a shit” Confused by her unusual speech pattern, Rossi throws a pointy glance towards her.

“Fine”, she once again sighs, knowing there is no other way to escape this situation. Not even the teenager’s sarcasm or pop culture can help her anymore.

Eagerly the team crowds around her desk, even Hotch is ready to get some good tea served. “I met them on the bus. Since I started here we rode the same bus every morning and afternoon. Their hair was the first thing I noticed about them. After a month I worked up the courage to talk to them.”

“And?” Morgan asks as (Y/N) doesn’t continue for several minutes. “I chickened out. No cap. But they chatted me up the next day and we are texting each other for several weeks now and we maybe have kind of our first date tomorrow and see each other for the last time today before the date and I want to leave a lasting impression maybe?” At the end she turns red. Like legit red, with tomato ears and stuff.

A loud squeal is heard. “OMG (Y/N) THIS IS SO CUTE I LITERALLY AM DEAD! OUR BABY IS FEELING LOOOOOVE! CLAP THOSE CHEEKS!” Although it seems impossible, she turns even redder at Penelope’s outburst.

“Ok, princess. I’m happy for you, but we need to meet them before you go with them anywhere. How old are they? What do they do for a living? What is their name? Garcia needs to make a background check”, Derek swivels her chair in his direction, looking the girl straight in the eye to make sure he is dead serious.

“Do they read? Emilia Clarke once said to never trust anybody, whose TV is bigger than their bookshelf, and I recommend you to follow that advice”, Spencer adds. “Can we help get you ready? I wanted to do a makeover for you for ages already”, Penelope throws in. JJ and Emily nod at that, showing that they too want to participate in this.

“Are you sure they are not basic, Bambi?” “Oh, Rossi. Never say that again. You are not allowed to talk like ever. Yes, I’m sure they got a cake and an even bigger heart. Before you also say anything complete out of line, Hotch: You all aren’t allowed to see them before I’m completely sure. Period. No complains.”

It’s safe to say that Aaron just needs to flash his doe eyes to convince (Y/N) that they indeed will meet their date before they go out together. I mean, who is better at delivering The Talk to a date than a bunch of (intimidating) profilers and a (even more intimidating) tech goddess?

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

#bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #penelope garcia x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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xcertaindarkthingsx · 3 years

Text

make you mine

pairing: jealous!mando x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian for a while now as a healer and caretaker for the Child. one day, the Mandalorian needs your specific skills to help him catch a bounty, and needless the say he is NOT happy about it.

warnings: two idiots that don’t know they like each other, some fluff and yearning, a smidge of possessiveness/jealousy, canon-typical violence, swearing in basic and mando’a, brief mentions of unwanted touching, mentions of taking care of injuries/stitching and blood, SMUT 18+ (minors BEGONE), porn w/ plot i guess, thigh riding, finger sucking, grinding, a lil’ dirty talk (if i miss any just please let me know!)

word count: 7.6k (i’m soRRY)

a/n: WHEW OK so i originally wrote this for #dincember but because i suck at deadlines and take forever to write it just turned into something else. reader is a lil insecure but mando makes it all better (self-projection, anyone?) ummm, this is my first time writing for din AND my first time writing smut but i hope you guys like it! comments/likes/reblogs/feedback are completely welcome and much appreciated! i apologize if this is a mess kladjflkd but shoutout to @a-dorin and @princessxkenobi for being wonderful beta readers and helping me when i got stuck. i am planning on making this a two parter, so if you want to be added to my tag list let me know! if you prefer to read on ao3 you can do so here . mando’a translations at the end!

gif credit: @bestintheparsec

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Soft coos filled the air inside the Razor Crest as you desperately tried to rock the Child back to sleep. You were almost certain he was starting to get hungry, but you were out of snacks and Mando had told you not to leave the ship under any circumstances.

You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for a while now, after being picked up on Arvala-7. You were a healer—a pretty damn good one, if you had anything to say about it—and had patched him up after a bounty hunt gone wrong.

The Mandalorian thought your services would be helpful if things ever got a little dicey again, so he asked you along for the ride (the reality was you had nagged and scolded him so much about how cauterizing was not the answer for every wound, that he eventually caved just to get you to stop). There wasn’t really anything tying you to Arvala-7, so you agreed.

Plus, the Child had taken a real liking to you, and how could you say no to that precious face?

The Mandalorian was an odd man—well, no. Not odd. More like intriguing, and you were drawn to it. It had been quiet and awkward the first few months. He was a rigid man of few words, never speaking more than necessary (unless he thought he was alone with the kid; the way he spoke with him made your heart melt). But after countless late nights together of taking care of the Child and constantly tending to his injuries, you were surprised to find there was a sense of gentleness under all that beskar.

The Mandalorian had been just as surprised as you when he found himself warming up to your presence. It was all the little moments that had snuck up on him, the stolen glances and lingering touches, and now his heartbeat seemed to quicken every time you were together.

Little did he know, yours did too.

At the sound of the hatch door opening, you looked up. You watched as the Mandalorian walked up the platform, admiring his strut. How someone could look so good just walking, you had no idea, but it was maddening.

“No bounty?” you called out, turning the kid in your arms so he would be facing out towards his dad. It was unusual that Mando hadn’t found the target yet, but you were just thankful he was in one piece for now. He shook his head.

“Not yet. I ran into some… complications,” he huffed and even though his voice was laced with frustration, it put you at ease. Being on the ship alone for nearly the whole day, sometimes you just missed hearing that husky baritone filtering through his modulator.

Not to mention you thought it was sexy as hell.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Complications?”

He heaved a deep sigh, lifting a hand for the Child to grab, which he took happily. “Hey, kid,” he whispered, and you smiled as the Child babbled back. Mando turned his helmet towards you and continued. “Yes, but I found a contact who should be able to give more information. I came back for you and the kid first. I know you guys must be hungry.”

You nodded at the same time the little green bean gave a resounding coo, earning a soft chuckle from the both of you. “I’ll get the pram ready.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After a quick stop in the marketplace for supplies, Mando had led you two into what seemed to be the only bar in town. It was only late afternoon, leaving it nearly empty, save for a few older patrons lazily sipping on glasses of ale. You ignored the way the Weequay behind the bar seemed to look you up and down.

Mando set you and the kid up with two bowls of soup at a table nearby while he talked business with his contact, who happened to be the bartender. Sipping your soup, you tried not to eavesdrop as the two began to fall into what you would call a heated discussion. On Mando’s end. Apparently, this was a particularly “difficult” target.

“Lucky for you, he’s got an eye for pretty girls,” the bartender drawled, jutting his chin at you. “She’ll do fine.”

Your head snapped up from your task of feeding the child, spoon mid-air. “Excuse me?”

“No. Absolutely not,” resounded Mando’s gruff voice from under the helmet.

“Listen, Mando. This guy is high-profile, practically untouchable, bodyguards with him at all times. And I’m not talkin’ your run of the mill pair of idiots that can’t shoot for a damn, I’m talkin’ highly trained mercenaries.” The Weequay sighed. “I don’t doubt your skills as a Mandalorian, but you’re just one man. You need to get him alone, and she is your only way of doing that,” he insisted.

“I said, no,” Mando gritted out. You were non-negotiable.

The bartender just shrugged. “Then consider this a loss, cause you’re not getting anywhere near him.”

Your heart hammered in your chest listening to the two of them argue. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, remembering the way the bartender eyed you when you walked in. All you wanted to do at this point was bury yourself in the confines of your room in the Razor Crest.

Mando seemed final in his decision, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he didn’t want you involved or if he thought you simply lacked the skills to do so. He could probably tell you weren’t really the seducing type, and truthfully the thought of trying to do was mortifying.

But Mando needed this, right? You thought of all the things he’s done for you, how he’s protected and provided for you. This was the least you could do for him. You could deal with one night of potential discomfort so he could get his bounty. It was a lot of credits.

“I’ll do it.”

Mando snapped his head around at you so fast, it was a miracle he hadn’t hurt himself. “For the last time, I said you are no—”

“I’m doing it,” you said a little more forcefully, cutting him off. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring daggers into you from underneath the helmet, but it was going to take more than a dirty look to get you to change your mind.

“Excellent!” the bartender’s cheery voice cut through the tension in the room. “Come on back, I’ve got an old dress an ex-girlfriend left behind that you could probably use.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The dress in question was a slinky black number that had you freezing your ass off in the cold of the desert night.

The dress was too… everything. Too short, too revealing, too tight; but the only other thing you had to wear were some oversized t-shirts and utility pants, which aren’t exactly sexy, so you were shit out of luck.

Mando nearly choked when you came out of your room, thankful for the helmet for hiding his widened eyes and agape mouth. You looked absolutely ravishing, the black fabric clinging to all the right places on your figure. His eyes roved over the valley of your chest, the curve of your hips, the length of your legs, and his hands balled into fists, just aching to hold you. It’s as if your skin was begging to be touched.

You cleared your throat, feeling incredibly exposed and wondering what in the blazes Mando was looking at because you were certain you looked absolutely ridiculous. The noise shook him out of whatever daze he was in and he quickly shifted his gaze.

“Not a word,” you warned, wobbling down the platform. As bad as the dress was, the heels it came with were somehow worse. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You shouldn’t,” he answered a little too quickly. “You look…” words were lost on him as he tried to find the right one. One that wouldn’t make it obvious that he was losing his kriffing mind in front of you. “Good,” he finally decided on, and mentally kicked himself for it. Good?

You gave him an exasperated look. “I know you’re just being nice.”

He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by an ill-timed fit of babbling from the kid. You had bent down as best you could to give him a little pat on the head and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

Mando couldn’t express how much he didn’t want you to do this. And well, he tried. The whole way back to the ship, in fact. But for some reason you were completely hell-bent on doing this for him, and he didn’t know how to explain that you and your safety meant more to him than a few thousand credits.

The reality was, Mando wanted you. He never thought he’d be so fond for someone besides the Child, but you were the exception. And even though he wanted to make you his, he knew it would be selfish of him to pursue you, to claim you, when he couldn’t give you everything you deserved; his Creed prevented him from doing so.

But Mando was a greedy man, so he took what he could get. He drank up all the kindness you so freely gave him, like a parched soul wandering in the desert, and cherished every little moment the two of you shared. They probably meant nothing to you, but they were everything to him. And he wanted more.

Not only was he a greedy man, but a stingy one as well. The thought of anyone other than him seeing you in that dress was enough to send his thoughts into a jealous frenzy.

“You don’t have to do this,” he tried to reason again.

You placed a gentle hand on the soft spot between his pauldron and neck and offered a small smile. “Don’t worry, Mando. Everything will be fine.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

The night had started well enough. After all of Mando’s failed attempts at dissuading you again, he had finally resigned to silently stewing in his disapproval rather than voicing it.

You entered the bar while he stayed behind and watched closely from the outside. He had given you a comms device, that, with the push of a button, would let him know you were alone with the bounty and it was time for him to step in.

“Just press it, and I will be right there,” he assured, his gloved fingers pressing the device firmly into your bare palm. Something about the protective tone of his voice stirred something in you. You nodded before looking away, trying to ignore your racing heart.

The bar was rowdy that night, patrons hooting and howling from the booze. The smell of stale spice and death sticks wafted in the air, making you wrinkle your nose. Your newfound bartender friend had waved you over, pointing out the target with a nod of his head.

Your eyes fell on a Pantoran man across the bar with a drink in his hand, dozens of black suits surrounding him. His associates—a Rodian and another Pantoran—seemed to all be talking business. The bartender wasn’t kidding about this guy’s security.

How the hell am I supposed to get this guy’s attention? You desperately racked your head for subtle ideas but came to a halt when his eyes met yours. Kriff, he had caught you staring. So much for subtle. Trying not to panic, you flashed your best coy smile before turning back towards the bar.

Somehow, that was enough to give him the courage to approach you.

Cocky bastard, you thought as he swaggered on up to you, leaning in close, leering. With his chiseled features and striking yellow markings, you would’ve called him handsome— if you didn’t already know what a sleazebag he was. An air of arrogance surrounded him, the type that made him think he could get whatever he wanted with a flash of those pearly whites. Typical douche. You wanted to smack him for being so close.

Instead, you flashed another winning smile. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned in close and with a breathy whisper of, ‘Let’s get out of here’ he was tossing credits to the bartender and signaling to his guards that he was leaving with you.

The Weequay had shot you a knowing look as he watched you leave; a warning. You assured him that everything was fine with a slight nod of your head.

The asshole had his arm snaked around you, hand on your ass, as you made your way to the motel just across the street. You fought back the urge to throttle him, instead fawning about how, ‘I can’t wait to be alone with you, darling.’

Your hands began to clam up as he retrieved the keys from the clerk, and you tried to convince yourself that everything would be fine once you clicked the button on your comm from the inside of the room.

Wrong.

Immediately after the Pantoran locked the door, the unease in your stomach began to grow. Bile rose in your throat at his grinning face, the way he fidgeted and licked his lips as he pressed you into the wall. A hand landed on your bare thigh, trailing dangerously high, where you shuddered in disgust at the feeling.

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he whispered, and that was your cue to press the comms device you were desperately clutching in your small purse. Your mistake was failing to mask the faint beeping noise it emitted. Your companion stiffened at the sound, pressing you further into the wall.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled, using the other hand to rip your arm from your purse. He stared at the comms device with contempt, before turning his attention back to me. “You bi—”

He never got to finish, because the next thing you knew your Mandalorian was crashing through the door, blaster in hand.

The scene Mando had walked in on nearly made him sick. That osi’kovid’s hands all over you, and worst of all, the look of pure fear on your face after being made. He’d planned to put a quick end to the whole ordeal, but the bounty had plans of his own.

Mando rushed him, shoving him into the wall and away from you. As expected, the Pantoran went flying before crumpling onto the floor. What Mando hadn’t been expecting was for him to be armed. He didn’t peg him as the type to get his hands dirty.

The Mandalorian was about to release the fibercord whip from his vambrace when the bounty rose from the floor with a sneer, a small combat knife in hand as he lunged at Mando, before wrestling him to the floor and sending his blaster skittering.

You watched in frozen horror as the two fought for the upper hand. At one point, the bounty had tried to charge at you, slashing wildly, but Mando was already there blocking his blows. The knife caught on the cowl above his chest, slicing the skin underneath with a sickening noise. That seemed to kick your brain into overdrive, and you dived for the fallen blaster on the ground.

You took a steadying breath before you aimed and shot once, twice, at the bounty’s leg. He cried out from his place above Mando before clutching his leg and finally falling over.

Mando rose and immediately released the fibercord, imprisoning the bounty. He held his hand out for his blaster, and you watched with wide eyes as he smacked the butt of it into the Pantoran’s face once, twice, three times. The third time ended with an appalling crack, his head lolling forward, and leaving him unconscious.

You stared as Mando stood in front of the bounty, seething. You could have sworn his hands were shaking.

“Stars, Mando, your neck,” you murmured, breathless. The room was dim, but you could see the dark stain of blood that was beginning to drench his cowl. Your hands went to inspect the wound, but he quickly brushed you off.

“We need to go,” he grunted, gathering the rope and heading towards the back entrance of the room. The two of you hadn’t exactly been quiet and the bounty’s guards were bound to notice their boss had been gone for too long. When you had opened your mouth to argue, to insist that you needed to check his injuries, he was already out the door.

Adrenaline still coursed through your veins as you walked back towards the ship. You pulled your arms tight across your body in an attempt to quell your trembling hands; guilt, bubbling up in your stomach as you replayed the events of the night in your head.

You had been the one to volunteer yourself for the mission.

You were the one who had repeatedly insisted that everything would be fine.

And now, your Mandalorian was bleeding profusely from a nasty wound on his neck.

“Mando,” you pleaded, trying to keep up with him in your ridiculous heels. Instead of acknowledging you, your words fell to deaf ears. He was stomping his way back to the ship, the unconscious bounty in tow.

Worry bloomed in your chest. The wound had looked bad back at the motel, but it was as if he couldn’t even feel it. You could hear his ragged breathing from behind; whether it was from the fight, the long walk, or the wound, you weren’t sure.

“Mando,” you tried again, this time raising your voice as you approached the hatch of the ship.

Nothing.

He let out another grunt as he hauled the bounty onto the ship, towards the carbon-freezing machine. You pursed your lips, jaw clenching in his direction. You did not appreciate being ignored, especially after just half-saving his ass just moments before.

Granted, you were the one that had put him in that position, but that was besides the point.

His back was to you and you stepped closer, ready to unleash a piece of your damn mind, when you stopped. You took in his brooding stance and clenched fists. The tremble in his hands. Anger seemed to roll off the Mandalorian in waves, making you falter.

What the hell was his problem?

“Mando, can you kriffing listen to me? I need to treat you, you have no idea if he nicked an important artery or something. I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, but you’ve been bleeding for a few minutes now and I just need to look—” annoyance rose in you as he continued to prep the carbon machine. “Maker, can you even hear me?”

The Mandalorian couldn’t hear you, not clearly anyways. Blood was still rushing in his ears, his vision still tinged red. But with another call of his name, you were finally able to get through and he suddenly whipped around.

“He touched you,” he gritted out, seething and shaking. “That skanah had his hands all over you and I swear if I didn’t need him alive for the bounty, he’d already be dead.” He punctuated the last word with the slam of a button on the machine.

You took a step back, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Something warm tightened in your chest and belly. Wh-why did he care so much? A lump had lodged itself into your throat. “Mando, I—I’m fine. Alright? I’m okay,” you tried to assure. “So, can you please calm down and let me just—"

But the Mandalorian already had his back turned again. You threw your hands up in the air, groaning in frustration as he continued to work. Another minute passed and with a faint whoosh, the bounty was finally set in carbonite.

A shiver ran through your body as the cool night air blew its way into the Razor Crest, raising goosebumps on your exposed skin. Seeing you tremble in the cold seemed to break Mando out of whatever angry stupor he was in.

In all honesty, he hadn’t meant to ignore you, but something in him snapped back at the motel. The image of that skanah touching you had made his blood boil, and his sole goal was to get him back to the ship and be done with it.

“You’re… cold,” he stated, the words coming out slow and soft, like pulling them out of a dream. You must have been freezing in that dress.

Your head snapped up at him. “I—what?”

“Let me get you a blanket or—” He hesitated when he saw you pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut.

You couldn’t believe this idiot.

“Mando, seriously?” Your heart and your brain were having a hard time deciding whether you should be flattered about him caring so much or pissed off because he didn’t seem to give a damn about himself.

You chose a mix of the two.

“Mando,” you sighed, looking up at him. “I promise you I’m fine, thank you. Really.” You gave him your most genuine, caring look to show you were thankful for his concern, and then quickly replaced it with a hard one. “But if you don’t get up into that cockpit right now and let me treat you, I’m going to use that damn pulse rifle on you.”

And just like that, you had managed to dissolve the lingering traces of anger in his mind. His lips twitched under the helmet. “That supposed to scare me?”

You glared. “Don’t push it.” You could have sworn he was laughing under there.

The Mandalorian would have laughed if the wound on his neck hadn’t began to ache. Instead, he begrudgingly nodded, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before disappearing into the cockpit.

He began to input the coordinates back to Nevarro into the navicomputer, warmth unfurling in his chest as he listened to you check on the Child. A tiredness had begun to settle in his muscles from the fight earlier, and he grimaced as he reached for a lever on the control panel. The pain on his neck was getting worse, and if he was being honest it burned like all hell, but he was not going to admit that to you.

The door behind him slid open and you stepped in frazzled, medkit in hand. Even with your hair in disarray and scrapes littering your arms and legs, he thought you looked breathtaking.

“Uh, so bad news,” you began, gesturing at the medkit. “They didn’t have any at the market earlier, so we’re out of bacta shots and spray. I’m gonna have to stitch it closed depending on how deep it is.” You shot him an apologetic look.

He nodded, putting in the last of the coordinates before removing his chest plate to give you easier access, and turning his chair to face you. You closed the space between the two of you, quickly going to work. Careful hands began to peel away at the fabric stuck to the wound, a hiss of pain at the tip of his tongue as you ripped off the last of it.

“Sorry,” you whispered, inspecting the fabric before discarding it. “You’re definitely gonna need a new cape.”

He shrugged. “At least now you’ve got a new blanket.” You always had a habit of curling up into all his old stuff.

With a smile, you returned your focus to the task at hand, mentally sighing in relief as you began to clean the wound. It could have been worse, but it was still very deep. An inch to the left and just a smidge higher, and you would have had quite the problem on your hands.

“Idiot,” you muttered.

“What was that?”

“Lucky,” you corrected, biting back a smirk. “You got lucky. Any higher and this would be a lot messier.” You tossed the last of the gauze out and prepared the needle and thread.

Mando took in your awkward stance as you tried to bend down and begin stitching. Standing was fine for when you were cleaning, but for something this intricate it wasn’t the best position. You cursed and tried again, trying to get the angle right, but it was no use. The thought left his mouth before he even had a chance to filter it.

“You can sit on me if that’s easier.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks at his words, nearly dropping the damn needle. “Oh—um—” Coherent thoughts didn’t seem to be forming in your head at the moment.

Panic flooded the Mandalorian’s brain as he took in your shocked expression and realized his mistake. “I—well, not like that—what I meant was—” he spluttered, trying to find the right words, thankful that his helmet hid his mortified expression.

“No, no it’s okay I—I know what you meant,” you managed to choke out after picking your jaw up off the floor. It would have been comical—the certain and capable bounty hunter struggling to regain his composure—but his words had flooded your mind with some less than innocent thoughts and images, ones that left you heated and flustered. You swallowed hard in an attempt to relieve your suddenly very dry throat. “I can, if you’re okay with it?”

He slowly nodded, mentally kicking himself for being so daft. He held his breath as you stepped closer, bracing a hand low on his chest as you perched yourself on his lap. You cursed, trying to your best to maneuver yourself onto him without being inappropriate.

Finally, you were situated, hovering precariously over his thigh. You breathed deep, willing your mind and body to calm down. Being in such close proximity to the Mandalorian was… dizzying, but you had a job to do. And so, you went to work.

A few minutes in, Mando could feel the tension rolling off your body, the tremble of your thighs as you tried to hold yourself above him. “You can sit if you need to.”

The thought had crossed your mind, but truthfully you were afraid of how your body would react if you did. Eventually you gave in, shivering at the cold kiss of beskar on the insides of your thighs as you straddled his leg. A knot was forming in your belly, low and warm.

Maker, help me, you thought.

The change in position had slid your dress higher and Mando’s eyes began to wander again, taking in the exposed skin where your dress had hiked itself up, the material bunching around your hips. His hands felt that pull again, that ache to touch you; to dig his fingers into the soft, plump flesh.

Osik, he cursed, trying to control himself. In his mind he conjured up the image of a blaster, mentally taking it apart and putting it back together as a pitiful attempt at a distraction.

You had fallen into a steady rhythm of stitching and knotting, your hands absentmindedly working. The Mandalorian had fallen into a dull haze in the wake of your delicate touches, despite the sting and pull of the needle. But when your hands brushed the edge of his helmet, he snapped to attention, reflexes kicking in.

A strong hand had immediately encircled your wrist, forcefully locking it in place. Your breath seized at the realization of your colossal fuck-up. How could you be so stupid?

“Shit, shit, I—I’m sorry,” you stammered out. “Mando, I—I promise I wasn’t going to take it off, I just needed to adjust it to get the needle under.” Your heart thundered against your chest, and you swear you could hear it in the empty silence of the cockpit. The iron-clad grip he had on your wrist was starting to hurt, biting into your skin.

Mando saw the flash of fear in your eyes, the way you had flinched at his touch and loosened the grip on your hand. Regret began to bubble up inside him. He opened his mouth to apologize, it had just been his instincts, but you beat him to it. Your next words caught him off guard.

“Do you trust me?”

He swallowed hard. Of course he did. There was no question about it. You were the one constant in his life besides the kid; the one he found he could rely on time and time again for anything. You had never betrayed him, in Creed or otherwise. He took a steadying breath before answering. “Yes.”

You tried to ignore the burst of warmth in your chest at his admission and what it implied. Instead, you nodded, slowly allowing yourself to move again and continue your care. “Lean back,” you whispered and he obliged, fully baring his neck to you. It was a vulnerable position, but the cautious movements of your hands crushed any anxiety that threatened to well up in him.

And maybe it was that cautious, careful touch that had begun to wear down his walls; the tenderness you so freely gave that softened his heart and opened him up. He wanted to make up the last minute to you, to show that he really did trust you. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop the next thing that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Din.”

You paused mid-stitch, confusion flickering on your face. “What’d you say?”

His heart felt like it was going to fly out of his ribcage. “My name. It’s Din.”

Confusion slowly morphed to shock at his revelation. He had just shared his name with you; something incredibly personal and dear to him. Knowing it felt… intimate. How many people actually knew his real name? You couldn’t stop that slow smile that had begun to spread on your face.

“Din,” you repeated, hushed as if someone else would hear. His heart skipped at the sound of his name on your lips; the soft way your voice curled around the short syllable. Your eyes peered into his through the visor of his helmet, a question behind them. “Just ‘Din’?”

“Din Djarin,” he corrected.

You repeated it again, delight clear on your face. “I like it.”

I do too, he thought. Especially when you say it. “You can use it whenever, as long as we’re alone or it’s just the kid.”

“Of course,” you nodded, then added a soft, “Thank you.” For trusting me.

The two of you had settled back into a comfortable silence, his hands resting comfortably on your hips, and Din couldn’t fathom why you kept biting back a smile. You were the first to break it.

“I’m sorry, for all this.”

“It’s fine, it’s not that painful.”

You shook your head. “No, I mean—” you gestured at his neck and then to you. “He was aiming for me.”

He scoffed. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d let anything happen to you.” You could hear the anger beginning to simmer beneath his words again. “No, I… I would protect you every single time. Besides, that osi’yaim got what he deserved in the end.”

Your eyes flicked to his visor again and you tried to ignore the way the knot in your belly tightened at his promise to you and the shiver his low voice sent down your spine. Instead, you tried to change the subject. “Osi’yaim?”

“A useless, despicable person. A waste of space.”

A soft laugh escaped you lips. “You need to teach more Mando’a. Something besides the bad words.”

Din’s heart clenched at your request. Something about you asking to learn his language stirred something deep in him. “Of course,” he managed to reply, but it came out more strangled than he had meant it to.

You continued with your task, getting lost in the repeated movements of your fingers.

Watching you work had always fascinated Din. You granted each injury the same amount of attention, whether it was as small as a papercut or as big as the gash he had now. It was endearing. The meticulous way you ensured every stitch, every bandage, was perfect and in place. The adept movements of your fingers, steady with every touch. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow as you concentrated.

He was captivated by it, and you, every time.

His gaze was concealed by his helmet most of the time, but tonight you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. Your cheeks began to burn at the thought of him staring at you so closely and you thanked the maker that he couldn’t see the crimson hue painting your face.

“Are you warm?” he asked, the low rumble of his voice startling you.

“What?”

“You’ve been shivering since you started, but… you’re all flushed,” he explained.

Your eyes widened at his words, heart stopping. “Wait—how can you see my—”

“Heat sensors.” Din couldn’t help but notice the way the heat on your face spread even more, down the soft slopes of your neck and chest.

Of course, heat sensors. You were absolutely mortified, a nervous laugh erupting from your chest. May as well be honest.

“No, not warm, more like embarrassed,” you tried to explain, unable to meet his eyes.

Din tilted his head, trying to understand. “Why?”

You scoffed. “’Cause I just realized I’ve been sticking my ugly mug in your face for the past 20 minutes.”

Din was dumbfounded. Ugly? The mere thought of you seeing yourself in that way made his heart ache. How could you think such a thing when he saw you as the most radiant thing in this galaxy? That, every time he saw you, he had to remind himself to breathe?

He had no idea what the in blazes he was doing, but he knew that he couldn’t let you go on thinking such things about yourself. Din reached out and tilted your chin up towards him, making you meet his eyes.

“Cyar’ika, you are the furthest thing from ugly that someone could be. I—you are absolutely stunning. Do you—do you know what seeing you in that dress tonight did to me?” he confessed, letting out a breathy laugh. The front of his pants tightened in reminder. “I’ll teach you something new in Mando’a right now.” He paused, letting his fingers brush over your chin. “Mesh’la.”

It felt like you were on fire at that point, burning under his gaze, but somehow you found your voice underneath all the flames. “What does it mean?” you breathed, unable to mask the tremble in your voice.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.”

Your body betrayed you, melting into a puddle with just a taste of his touch and the boldness of his words. It was a devastating effect, and there was no denying the dampness that had pooled between your legs now. You managed to stutter out a, ‘thank you’ before trying to finish the last knot of his stitches.

“All done,” you whispered.

Din watched as you admired your handiwork and noticed that you made no move to remove yourself from him. Instead, your hands were softly dragging across the planes of his exposed chest, leaving a trail of fire wherever they went. It was such a foreign feeling, flesh against flesh on such a shielded part of his body. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him there, let alone so gently.

A strangled sound caught in his throat as you brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, just above the other side of his collarbone. It was almost too much, the shot of electricity that singed his nerves, but it felt good.

His body involuntarily bucked at the sensation and his hands gripped your hips roughly, pressing you flush against him.

You gasped at the sensation, of your clothed core dragging against the beskar plate on his thigh, your knee brushing against the bulge that had tented his pants. Your hands scrabbled to find something, anything, to anchor yourself from the blinding pleasure that fizzled through you.

“Maker,” Din murmured, letting out a shuddering breath. “Osik, cyar’ika, I’m didn’t mean to touch you like that but—”

“But what if I want you to?” your own voice sounding foreign to your ears. You did not miss the way his breath hitched, caught in the modulator of his helmet.

Din’s mind was reeling. “You—you want me to?” he swallowed thickly around the ball of shock that was caught in his throat.

And you’re nodding, eyes dark and body and mind clouded with need, leading his hands up your torso and chest; but Din, he needs to hear you say it. “Use your words, cyar’ika. I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Din. Please,” and that’s enough to dissolve any shred of self-control he thought he had. The sound of you saying his name like that, a plea for him and only him, was maddening.

His hands were on you in an instant; hands that you had seen nearly beat a man to death just for touching you, but on you they were soft, gentle. Desperate, but tender. Rough, but passionate and loving. The contrast was making your head spin.

“Din,” you whimpered. “You have to be careful, your cut—”

“I don’t care,” he rasped. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you? Make you mine?” He pulled you closer against him, hands grasping at anything he could reach. He wanted to erase any trace of the bounty from your presence.

You tried to answer, but you were a mess, filling the cockpit with soft moans and mewls as you bucked your hips on his thigh.

“I want to watch you make yourself feel good, can you do that? Just like this?” You frantically bobbed your head. “Good,” he answered, stroking your cheek. “You deserve it after tonight, sweet girl.”

The sound of ‘sweet girl’ sent wet heat straight to your core. If anything, you thought he was the one that deserved to be taken care of right now. But you were not about to argue with the Mandalorian who insisted on you using him to get yourself off.

Your hands pawed at his chest again, struggling to find some kind of purchase to anchor yourself. They finally settled for his biceps, nails digging deep. He watched as you grinded down on his thigh, eyes screwed shut. His hands fingered the strap of your dress and you nodded, giving him permission to slide it down.

Din took in the sight of your bare chest, your nipples pebbling in the cold air of the cockpit. He ached to take them into his mouth, hear you whimper and moan against his tongue, but he settled for brushing his gloved fingers over them and watching you arch.

You ground down harder, desperate you get the friction you needed. Din’s hands slipped from your breasts down back to your hips, stilling them. A high whine escaped your throat and it was almost pitiful.

“Up,” he instructed, confusion marring your face as you lifted yourself off his leg. He gripped the thigh plate and dropped it to the ground, promptly setting you back onto his thigh. “Wanna feel you,” he growled, and you could only moan in response.

Soon enough, your arousal had seeped through your panties and onto the fabric of his pants. The heady smell hit his nose and his mouth watered, desperate to know what you tasted like, to know what sounds you would make if he buried his face between your thighs.

You guided his hands back up your chest, up to your neck. His fingers cupped your face again, thumb brushing the bottom of your lip. You held his hand in place, biting the leather tip of his glove and slowly slid it off, letting it drop between you.

The feeling of his bare thumb resting on your lips sent another wave of arousal through you. “Wanna feel you,” you breathed, grinning before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking hard. Din’s eyes rolled back and he groaned; the sight of your hollowed-out cheeks and the sensation of your tongue on the pad of his thumb nearly sent him over the edge.

One hand trailed to the base of your neck, tangling itself softly in your hair. He took in the way your eyes were screwed shut, the furrow in your brows as you chased your high. You had taken your bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard and almost splitting it from the pressure. It was almost the same concentrated expression you wore as you tended to his injuries, though it was clear you were concentrated on something far more rewarding now.

“Mesh’la,” he commanded. “Look at me.”

You wretched your eyes open, fixing your gaze on him.

Din watched, enraptured, as you continued to pleasure yourself. You were a sight before him; pupils blown, mouth agape, chest heaving as you tried to ease the ache in your belly. He was lost in the way your eyes sparkled, perfectly matching the dark galaxy you were set against just outside the viewport.

Your moans filled the cockpit, desperate sounds and pleads of Din’s name as he sent delicious licks of pleasure throughout your body. You held on for dear life, panting as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

He feels the tension simmering from your shuddering figure, like a coil just waiting to spring.

“Are you close, mesh’la?” he whispered, his words and the rasp of his voice sending you higher and higher. “Are you going to come for me?”

And you’re a wreck, whimpering and pleading, yes, Din, yes; and all Din can think is he can die happy knowing how you moan his name. He shifts you, pulls you right onto the straining bulge in his pants and you both gasp, the sensation pulling you even closer to your orgasm. A bare hand snakes between where the two of you are pressed against each other and he presses right onto your clit.

A sob tears from your throat and stars burst behind your eyes as you’re pushed off the edge; and you’re falling, waves of ecstasy washing over you and burning straight to your toes. Din holds you close as your body continues to shudder, a steady hand on your back coaxing you down from your high. He lets out a groan when he feels evidence of your orgasm seep through to his clothed cock.

Fog clouds the bottom of his helmet as you softly pant, the pleasure lulling to a dull thrum in your veins. He’s admiring your sleepy eyes, the flushed cheeks of your afterglow. You give off a shy smile, peering into his visor. “Beautiful,” he murmurs right next to your ear. “Just like I said.”

“Thank you,” you hum, pressing a searing kiss onto his bare neck and sliding a hand over the hardness trapped beneath you.

Din hisses at your touch and you laugh, trying to ease the ache between his own legs. “Mesh’la,” he warns, grunting at the loss of contact as you lift yourself off him and slide between his knees, kneeling.

“Yes?” you respond, sliding your hands up and down his thighs, and pausing at the button of his pants.

“You don’t have to—” he starts, but you quickly cut him off.

“But I want to, Din,” you assured. You rest your head on his knee, peering up at him with wide, innocent eyes, awaiting his permission. “Wanna return the favor, wanna taste you,” and you grin at the strangled sound that leaves his throat. He couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to.

Finally, he nods, spreading his legs wider to accommodate you. Your smile grows and your nimble fingers make quick work of the buttons on his pants. You’re just about to free him from the confines of his boxers when an alarm signal sounds from the ship, startling the both of you.

“Come in, Mando,” Greef Karga’s voice crackled through the small room. “We’ve got a problem. I repeat, we’ve got an emergency, please come in.”

Din groans and you throw an exasperated look towards the comms on the control panel. “Just ignore him, it can’t be that—” and you’re cut off by another sound.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your forehead into Din’s knee. You loved that little green bean to death, but damn him for his horrific timing. Din softly slid his hand over yours and you looked up.

“It’s alright, cyar’ika,” he hummed. “Go check on him,” and you slowly nodded, shooting him an apologetic look before rising from your spot on the floor.

Din watched in mild amusement as you wobbled to the door, before turning his chair towards the control panel and sighing. His own arousal was almost overwhelming, but he did his best to shove it to the back of his mind.

Whatever Greef needed, it had better be good, he grumbled in his head.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

mando’a translations:

osi’kovid – shithead

skanah – very hated person, fucker

osik – shit

osi’yaim – cowardly, useless person

cyar’ika – darling, beloved

mesh’la – beautiful

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

thank you for reading! let me know what ya think!

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #star wars fanfiction #make you mine #certaindark writing #the mandalorian smut #smut #AHHHH I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT #IDK HOW TO TAG LOL #I’M SO NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS BUT IT’S FINE #din djarin x reader

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