Tumgik
#he used to be really into orange things and has a bunch of orange stuff left over from it but now hes more into black+bright/glowing pink
trollrider1111 · 5 months
Text
Making ocs is an art that i think was lost on me, to do that i think you need to be able to figure out a life and in order to do THAT i need experience in making ocs. Dammit i gotta do this badly, scared and for the first time
#hex is a black cat with purple accents. hes a stocky but fluffy cat with medium length fur#i cant decide if he has purple eyes or brown#i want to draw him as a bartender#he should be able to wear hats. i think he would be good at wearing a hat#god im a boring person#hex has a sibling. i dont really have him fleshed out but hes called decimal#i think hes a brown tabby cat whos much fatter#hex is super bad at sports but he knows how to box bc he used to fight with dex#he used to be really into orange things and has a bunch of orange stuff left over from it but now hes more into black+bright/glowing pink#maybe ill draw him in a pink jacket one day#thats a lot already oh wow#hes good at playing cards and can deal like a showoff (i know nothing about cards)#hes good at caligraphy but his handwriting is like chickenscratch#hex#he signs all his cards with a giant flourish that takes up half the card but its pretty so they dont mind#he really loves fire lilies bc of his orange phase but couldnt bear to repot them for dragon lilies. like what is he gonna just evict them?#so hes has the extra thing of seeds next to the planter but no plans on planting them any time soon#hes a soft type of dude but once you know him he'll bite#he tries to be refined but it just ends up camp meanwhile dex would ride an atv through mud all day if he could afford to#he paints but hes never satisfied with it so he ends up just painting over it and making it an abstract portrait if he fucks up#when hes painting he always starts by painting his claws a matching color
2 notes · View notes
emptyjunior · 21 days
Text
It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.
Tumblr media
First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.
Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.
Tumblr media
Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.
Tumblr media
Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.
Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.
You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.
Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.
Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷‍♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭
So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.
Tumblr media
If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.
So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.
Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.
In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.
Tumblr media
Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!
Tumblr media
This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.
I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anyways can not recommend this film enough.
-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.
-David Lynch to this day hates it.
-The original cut was four hours.
-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.
-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.
-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.
If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.
597 notes · View notes
fryingpan1234567 · 10 months
Text
some CHB headcanons
every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are
Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor
the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground
the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting
the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting
Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons
ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS
they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post
before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp
if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile
when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot
because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah
cabins competing for who shows the most pride
Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers
Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)
Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin
I could make a whole post about CHB pride but
every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me
Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school
Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all
Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan
Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol
Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)
the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with
the seven are AVID Smash Bros players
really everyone but
not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help
the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then
the Romans swear on few occasions
the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite
the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time
the Egyptians never swear (in English)
for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery
well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out
he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.
Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”
that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history
some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards
Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends
1K notes · View notes
soarrenbluejay · 1 month
Text
Can’t remember where I’ve seen the idea first but I’ve had this idea of Regular Clowns taking offense to joker’s bullshit for a while now and exacting Vengeance. The man doesn’t even has an egg! His ass never been to clown school! He’s a disgrace to them all!
So four buddies leaving the traveling circus business decide as people who have loved every second of this and are Deeply Insulted by this wanker to Do Something About It.
Three of them are showmen- an acrobat, a juggler, a fire fanatic, the works.
The last one, Jerry, is a stage hand. He is their most powerful member- not only does he have the superpower of self care, but he’s a meta! Minor telekinesis is actually really useful when shuttling stuff around in a stage in a hurry! (And that whole thing of our idea of ninjas coming from stage hands in all black being ‘invisible’ yeah. Cryptid vibes, except it’s just Jerry)
So. A clown car pulls up in Gotham, in the middle of a Joker attack, presumably despite ever Gothamite on the road who saw it making their best effort to take one for the team and mow them down. This is a no good awful sign for Gotham.
But it gets better.
Because out does not step a bunch of goon reinforcements in masks, or some jokerified poor soul, but instead someone in one of those historical jester costumes, bells and dramatic ass sleeves and all. Also, they’re bright orange. It is slightly eye searing. In one hand is the end to a long line of tied together handkerchiefs in clashing neon colors which appears to be infinite bc it just keeps coming. In the other is a comedically oversized hammer with a squeaky sound effect installed but no spring to soften the blow- it in fact has spikes with little Mayfair banners hanging off.
They immediately attempt to strangle/bash Joker to death with a winning smile firmly in place, and actually survive the attempt of which by apparent virtue of being made of rubber or something. And out slides our fire master, in all teal for contrast, who promptly throws smoke bombs at the crowd of goons around and starts all but boa staffing them down with his fire wand, paired with a dramatic speech about how Joker is in insult to the idea of circus and also the most unfunny bitch to ever walk the earth.
Lastly, the juggler. They have come armed. With glitter and hackysacks. A dramatic beatdown ensues, with much shrieking and yelling on all sides. A gif is made of Joker being bonked right through a concrete wall with a move right out of a video game. Several goons get concussions a la bowling pins. It’s all being live streamed by someone through their apartment window and is rapidly going viral. It’s a good time mostly because this attempt at vengeance against the Clown Bitch Gotham did not immediately involve some one getting very anticlimacticly shot.
No really takes note of the guy in all black and ski mask, calmly standing in the middle of the flaming chaos. He occasionally holds out a new set of props for the juggler, an oversized great sword for our acrobat jester, some nitroglycerin for blowy uppy efforts, the works. Until he starts calmly putting together a three story set of scaffolding for the gang to use for the purpose of beating the crime king’s skull in in even more ridiculous ways and also so jester can showcase their absolute lack of a spine.
And Jerry goes back to standing in the middle of this chaos, apparently unaffected by Literally Everything going on. His friends are fucking crazy, he’s used to it.
Meanwhile, Ghost King Danny gets a new urgent appeal at his ghostly royal desk- someone is attempting to enact vengeance against the joker and move approximately 46363883 souls along doing it, except it’s not the Red Hood this time! It’s Some Random Guys that a minor mischief god is now attempting to fast track layering with blessings! Said minor god is officially appealing for the Ghost Monarch’s support. Danny is conflicted- on one hand, he Fucking Hates Clowns. And has a major hero worship thing going on for Red Hood, a fellow supernatural hero (in the dead’s eyes) much his senior. However, the idea of a bunch of nobody’s beating the joker to death at the same time as declaring how shit of a clown he is IS pretty hilarious.
He gives it the stamp of Yes, provided others seeking vengeance (aka red hood, the thousands of joker victims in Gotham, anyone who wants to go spectacular viral) can still intervene to catch some own hands, a minor merriment/will of the people god does a jig on the spot, and back with the Justice Circus Brigade, ghouls and Spectors alike start popping up to join in on the fun! Which our beloved ren faire rejects are actually pretty okay with- big enough circus events in the DC universe have a bad habit of becoming possessed/very obviously haunted/Ooky Spooky like, every few months. And these guys look much friendlier than whatever the hell has been in the house of mirrors these last few months!
Red Hood isn’t sure how he’s suddenly in the middle of upper Gotham when he’s was decidedly Nowhere Near three seconds ago, but that’s a problem for later when the Bitch Ass Clown Extraordinaire is Right There!! So he tables it to be very paranoid about later, shrugs, and starts shooting. Jester starts shouting out points for accuracy/comedy, Jerry calmly asks if he wants some of their backup silver bullets just in case The Target really is an unholy being of some sort. (They have taken Precautions. For Everythinf. Or at least Jerry did.) Jason can’t say no to free extra ammunition and also That’s Hilarious, man he has to hire these guys!
Then fire juggler molotov’s the joker, and he decides these idiots are ABSOLUTELY worth saving from the big bad bat. Fuck it, this morons are the BEST.
211 notes · View notes
rorywritesjunk · 6 months
Text
I will never ask you for anything, Except to dream sweet of me
Look, everyone has some kind of secret. You just didn't want Buggy to find this one out. Rating: PGish, honest. Warnings: None really. Girlfriend references making one threat. Buggy feels just a little bit insecure. A/N: I wrote this quick and had fun with it. I wanted some light hearted fluff nonsense. For once no one is having a bad day in this. Song title comes from "Heaven, Iowa" by Fall Out Boy.
Tumblr media
Whenever you knew Buggy would be gone for several nights in a row on raids, pillages, and whatever he did when he was gone for nights on end, you made sure you had your own way of coping with missing him. It was hard not having him around in bed to keep you company because hey, you loved that silly guy, but you also had your own needs, and one of those needs was tucked in a box in your side of the wardrobe underneath some shoes. He never looked there because you always put away the laundry, so whenever he was gone you made sure to sneak it out and keep it in bed with you.
You expected him to be gone for four nights total, which was perfect because you knew if he discovered what you had he may be offended or mortified that you used it as a substitute for him. Buggy was sensitive about certain things, you have known this, which is why it was a secret. You never told him what you bought during one of your grocery runs. You couldn’t help it when you saw it. You needed it.
Again, four nights. Buggy wouldn’t be back for four nights. That was fine with you, but what you didn’t expect was him to show up on the third night as a surprise.
It was late when he showed up in your shared quarters. He was a little disappointed to find you asleep, but he took notice that you were in one of his shirts and on his side of the bed, even using his pillow. He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and set his captain’s hat on the seat before making his way over to you. You had the covers pulled up to your nose as you slept, looking adorable and peaceful. 
Yea, he was definitely going to wake you up because he wanted a kiss.
He pulled the covers back and leaned down, only to freeze when he saw what was clutched to your chest. 
“What the fuck is that?” He demanded, waking you up from your slumber. Your head was spinning from the sudden wakeup call and it took you a moment to realize he was standing there.
“Buggy!” You exclaimed as you tried to hide what you didn’t want him to see under the blankets, but he was too fast, snatching it out of your hands as he held it out at arms length, looking a little horrified. “Let me explain!”
“Where did you even get this?!” 
“Buggy!”
“I don’t… what is this?!”
“I miss you when you’re gone!” You told him as you scrambled out of bed to try and snatch it from him. He held it out of your reach.  “I bought it at the market, okay? Some little old lady was making them!”
He stared at the little plushy that weirdly resembled him, from the orange captain’s hat all the way to his nose. Buggy touched the plushy carefully, turning it over as he inspected it before touching the nose. “Who made this?”
“She based them off wanted posters. She's made a bunch of different pirates.” You huffed as you finally snatched it from him. “I just miss you when you’re gone, so I bought it, but I was embarrassed and didn’t want you to get weirded out, okay?” You poked him hard in the chest accusingly. “And you said you’d be gone for four nights, Buggy! Why are you home a night early? I didn’t want you to know about this!”
“We finished early.” He said, his eyes never leaving the little plushy in your hands. “And I missed you.”
You pouted at him. “Well, I missed you too. I always miss you. So I have this little Buggy to hold while I think of you, but I’m never going to ask you to stay when you gotta go do stuff, okay?”
“That’s not to replace me, right?” He asked, pointing at it. 
“What? No!” You told him. “I’d never replace you!”
He reached for it and you hesitated for a moment before handing it over to him. You didn’t want him to wreck it because you adored it, but you also didn’t want him to be too weirded out by it. “Look, if you really don’t like it, I’ll get rid of it…”
“No, I don’t want you to get rid of it.” He said as he looked it over again. The construction of it was pretty durable, and the clothes were made to come off if desired. He touched the nose, finding it held on by just a few stitches. He frowned at that.
You hesitated when you saw he noticed that little detail. “I told her she needed to add your nose. She… didn’t include it when I picked it up so I told her to add it or else.”
“Or else?” He glanced up at you with a bit of a smirk. “Threatening old ladies now, babe?”
“It wasn’t you without the nose, Buggy!” You shot back as your cheeks flushed, both from the slight embarrassment of this whole situation and from recalling the conversation with the old woman. “She didn’t think it was necessary and we argued, and finally I told her to add the nose or else she wouldn’t have a booth anymore.” You huffed. “I may have overreacted, but I love it.”
He flicked the nose of the toy before handing it back over to you. “Keep it on your nightstand if you want, I guess.”
You took it back and gave it a hug. “Really?”
“However, If I catch you hugging it while I’m home and in bed with you then I’m torching it.” He warned you. 
“Ass.” You retorted with a grin. “I love you.”
“Yea, whatever.” He muttered as he took it out of your hands and tossed it on the bed before grabbing you and pulling you in for a kiss. He mumbled against your lips, “Love you too, babe.”
~~
btw if you've never seen the Buggy plushy this is what inspired this because I bought it and it's so ridiculously cute.
Tumblr media
306 notes · View notes
justcallmesakira · 11 days
Note
BESTIE IF U DONT DO THIS REQ N I WILL FACKING EAT UR MUTUALS
DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER DAZAI WITH A SISTER!!
she has black cat energy and err makes suicidal jokes here and then but never does t and chuuyas always the one who pulls her away from dazais tendencies because he DOES NOT want reader to follow dazais steps and err dazai and reader have a 2 year gap and err basically dazai took her away with him when he left and thats were she sort of stopped talking BECAUSE BOOM CHIKA BOOM ODAS DEATH LEFT HER MORE TRAUAMATIZED THAN THE KIDS ASAGIRI BLEW UP!!! so errr crack and chuuya and reader is ummmm AHEM AHEM AHEM (cough coug)
AND BASICALLY MORI HAS THIS like obsession of bringing reader back to the mafia like he constantly says stuff like "Dazai, my offer still stands but please remember that i would really really love to see your dear sister back first" LIKE YKNOW WHAT I AM SAYING???????????
DAZAI AND HIS YOUNGER SISTER!
Sypnosis: you are the younger sister of Da-dazai! Is he a great brother or not? UPPP TO YOU! >< oh and maybe hide your secret vists with chuuya please!!
Genre: crack and heavy angst! (dont question it)
Warnings: suicidal themes! cans of gasoline, glitter bombs, reader is very quiet type, manipulation (for good use!)
A/N: yummy yummy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
uh oh! this is gonna be so damn messy
so um first of all! i really think reader would be very intelligent like dazai like oh fuck! i just got under a whole rubble of rocks by some guy who btw is the enemy of my brother quick! think of something
and then theres this bsd aesthetic plan you make and just survive! to the shock of your horror... :D
okay but in all seriousness! he defiently jokingly gave you his suicide guide to if u ever felt inspired by him
VERY VERY NORMAL BROTHER ACTIVITY!!1
dazai stop influencing people around you to plug off them self challenge impossible: GO!!
if you do however join his meticulous activites kunikidas actually going to blow up
😇
but imagine how cute it would be a black cat energy young sis and a golden retriver brother like bish forget romantic relationships like dazai who sometimes forget he left his sister at work!
but ynkow mf dazai always wants to keep close to you because he was never really there (like my fake as friends🙄) back in the mafia! woohoo
so now you can asks him for whatever you want but now he actually feels guilty because you have now become the silent type and dont really talk that much
Great job dazai! best brother everr!❤️
Imagine running away from the mafia with ur lil sister then realising she doesnt even want to talk anymore and that you might actually failed as a big brother even after buying her a whole lotta stuff
COULDNT BE OSAMU DAZAI GUYS!!!
tell him to take you to an amusement park and he will! but dont be surprised if you see him trying to run to jump off a bridge because he does not have for the sake of god any money!
AYY dazai cosplaying toji to get milk? real or fake??? find out here!
dont click on the link :3
ANYWAYS he definetly tries his best to get you back to talking sure the only thing he could do is talk to himself with you beside him doodling some stuff but yknow...it genuinely makes him form a sad smile when he gets reminded that maybe if he were a better brother and actually comforted you it would have ended better
"I saw a cat today yknow! it had a black eye and orange patterns. Somehow it looked wise" dazai said relazing on the chair, his hands behind his head, the whole night of yokohama was quiet only the flicker of the dim light placed underneath the balcony ceiling could be heard.
The night was calm too, it had a soft storm-like feel to it. Dazai knew you were listening thats probably why he would talk to you all these months, no one else was there for him anyway. So its better than nothing.
All of a sudden amdist the silence several pokes tapped on his shoulder which made his eyes widen slightly. You held up your sktechbook infront of his face, a bunch of doodles of him and a full sketch of his side profile
"(Name)... This is amazing! Wow you could be a talented artist yknow!!" he said you didnt know whether he was just flattering you or not because of the emptiness in his eyes. Depression changes a person. But the slight flicker of light in his made it visible to your loud mind. Dazai was glad you made some progress.
Okay now hb your interactions with da agency??
I am pretty sure both you and him joined da agency together (gotta make sure his sister ACTUALLY doesn`t follow his steps!😋😋😋😋)
kunikida may act all cold around you and view u as some kid especially when you randomly make the most random ass suicidal jokes in the middle of a meeting but...
Lets say he sort of checks up on both of you every morning! cant let the dogs out now kunikida! you never know what they do....
iykwimyk
now yosano girlypop is the only person who shows genuine concern for you when you get hurt why? because she was bamboozled when she found out you are dazais sibling like
"huh- are you actually capable of being a brother? more so having family"
dazai be at the corner weeping because of the amount of slander
DESERVEDDDD😍😍😍
I can totally see fukuzawa patting both of you and dazais head after you two collaborated on a mission
IDWGDHYWDFYUDFILOVEFATHERRELATIONSHIPS
he prob randomly call you for tea i mean not too randomly but he likes your black cat energy
speaking of which ranpo and you bully da heck out of criminals before they ultimately mistake you for some god!! /nj
kenji and kyouka just chills around you and tries debating what you and dazai have in common.
belonging in the mental asylum. thats whats common between you two/nj again😁😁
With chuuya
NAWWWWH BRO NAWW☠️
Chuuyas gonna end upl like this emoji☠️☠️☠️
Okay maybe i am over exaggerating this but yknow dazai is like really smart
UNFORTUNATELY!!!
So he will definitely know when ever you two act a little🤭😝😘🤗😍🥰👍
Hes going to get tjat expression from chapter 114 and chew chuuyas expensive tuxedo!!
I bet after he finds out hes straight up going to give chuuya a flashback of stormbringer era!! 😍😁
#verynormalbrother
"W-w-w-what da SKIBIDI [name]??? YOU WILL NOT AND NEVER MEET CHUUYA AGAIN" "wow... and i thought you were trying to become a better brother :(" "YOUNG LA- i-" ":("
He was about to say lad
like manipulative ass brother like sister ig! :33333333
He prob had suspicions back in the mafia especially because of how you mostly stuck around chuuya when he wasnt there
YOUR FAULT BRO!!!
And then u rizzed chuuya up with double black eyes (get it?)
"You know [name] it still hurt me, though i promised i would never say it infront of your face but.." Chuuya said seriousness in his tone looking at you eyes "But please stop looking at me with those cat like eyes they deeply remind of someone and I DO NOT like it"
He ended this funny note with a genuine fear and irritation in his eyes. you only nodded and continued to stare at him, your eyes rivaling a black hole not that hole by the way.
A tingling feeling gathered in himself as chuuya looks at your blank stare "Dont look at me like that!" he raised his flustered voice, a small hue of pink appearing on his cheek which only grew as you held on to his sleeve, snuggling against it like a cat.
But before he could be more flushed a really dark aura crept up behind you and then, right then you knew you fucked up bad.
"i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-cant believe this!" your brothers voice perked up behind you genuine horror on his face as if he just saw his bestfriend die infront of him twice.
"Oh my fucki-" chuuya sighed, both of you are caught. "[name] ICANTBELIEVETHISOMGIAMGOINGTOENDMYSELFLIKEMYOTHERVERSIONFROMANOTHERUNIVERSEWHOLOWEREDYOURSTANDERDSICANTBELIEVETHISHIT" dazai rapped at super speed, an anger and shock unwordable enough for you to be confused at whatever hes yapping about. "DAZAI what the fuck??" now chuuya was confused too.
"ANDYOU, HERMANADAPUTA (sisterfucker in english) YOUUGLYSHORTMFWITHNOFLAGSNONOTHING,YOUTRUSTISSUED?IWILLGIVEYOUPRISONFORLIFEISSUES" "WHAT IS YOU BROTHER YAPPING ABOUT?"
And all you could do was watch in horror as the scene unfolds infront of you. But safe to say you got in big trouble when you went back home!
anyways dazais going to go full on 8 cans of gasoline on the portmafia if more is obsessed with you like him
and then you realised..
"fOr tHe fIrSt TiMe iN fOrEVer" he actually did/nj
Okay okay but in all seriousness (litearlly @justcallmesakira catchphrase guys!!) Dazai would genuinely become more protective of you if mori was targeting towards you.
i would run away to antarctica too if mori even tried interacting with me
SHES A RUNNER SHES A TRACKSTAR!!!!!🏃💨
But if you are intelligent then i guess you met fyodor too? And maybe some sort of rivalry goes on between you two like "oh its my brothers enemy, gotta help my bro blow him up!"
I have nothing much to say because dazai would make secret plans (which you alrdy know) to make sure mori doesnt get too close with you
Like oh he was planning to approach you that day? BOOM dazai is already there. Yeah like that
If mori says that however... Dazai will reply with a dark eyed gloom,tilting his head back creepily "You will have to need more then the whole of port mafia to interact with my sister"
Dazai hates mori alot and though he knows that you are old enough to handle situations that doesnt mean he wont care for his only sister. You are the only thing left that he can protect without feeling inhumanity or faraway.
Tumblr media
A/N: HATE THISSSS NOOOUUU
Tags: @inojuuy @biscuits-spooky-corner @terururuko @little-miss-chaoss @saelique @silverbladexyz @typcallysid14 @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon
113 notes · View notes
Text
"Where's papa Missa?" is the first thing that Chayanne asks in the morning.
"Oh, he's just helping your godfather with something - we'll go meet up with them after breakfast," Philza brushes aside in concern, already knowing exactly what is going on.
Chayanne and Tallulah both give him wary looks, but his kids are good kids; they eat their breakfast, and start getting dressed.
"Wear something you don't mind getting dirty," Philza tells them. Which is true of every day, and so the reminder really does set them both on edge.
"Is something happening?" Tallulah asks.
"Well, it is Easter," Philza answers her. "Some people go to Church and stuff, but otherwise we just use it as an excuse to eat lots of chocolate. Just like Santa brings presents at Christmas, the Easter Bunny brings good kids chocolate eggs. Or decorative ones. Missa mentioned something about confetti but I'll be honest, I was half asleep so none of it went in."
That has their attention; both kids start glancing over the house, looking for a stockpile of treats. Philza can only laugh, and promise they'll find the eggs later.
Find being an operative word.
He had been meaning to hide them about the house, it's true, but then Bad had suggested maybe something for all of the eggs, and Tubbo had taken it upon himself to offer to host. Philza was a little worried about letting all of the kids run around the factories, but Tubbo had promised back and forth everything would be turned off - and he knows his friend would never do anything which could harm the kids.
Tallulah, having learnt there is a special event going on, insists on a different hat, and Philza helps her tuck flowers into her curls. Chayanne wants to immediately run off, hovering next to the door as he waits for his sister, and only begrudgingly accepting a tiny flower crown for his ducky.
Philza snaps a photo of Tallulah placing it there, and double checks he has a couple of fresh albums.
The teleport over to Fobo is fast, and involves being hit with a wall of sound. Before the purple has even faded Philza can hear Pac yelling for Richarlyson to get down from... somewhere? while Mike dies laughing on the floor. Not all of the eggs and parents are here, yet, but the earlier types are - Fit and Ramón, Pac and Mike with Richas, Bagi with Empanada... And, of course, Tubbo with Sunny. Leo also seems up already, probably under Tubbo's supervision, while Roier is sat on a picnic rug with Missa, the pair of them both half asleep while Pepito crawls through a nearby bush. Aypierre is examining one of the machines, so surely Pomme is about.
Now that he thinks about it, while a fair few parents aren't up so early, the only kid who seems to still be missing are Dapper and Chunsik. A quick glance at his comms shows that Bad, Acau, and YD are all awake, so it's not likely long.
"Hey guys!" Philza calls, drawing attention to their group. "We made it!"
"Great!" Tubbo grabs a pair of baskets - one wrapped with purple ribbon, one orange - and brings them over. "Here are your baskets! There's ten gifts specifically for each of you - they'll have a ribbon that matches your basket on them - hidden around the courtyard. Once everyone's here, we're gonna let you guys into town, where there's a whole bunch of eggs that don't belong to anyone, just waiting to be picked up. For now you can look for your own, just stay nearby, ok?"
And they /are/ good kids, but they are also excitable, and so the pair of them are three eggs apiece before remembering to come and hug Missa good morning.
Philza, having by then greeted everyone already there and found a bit of roof to perch on, captures the laughing and the smiling in his camera.
Once the kids have returned to their hunt, he drops a copy of the best down on Missa. It earns him his husband looking up, with a grin and a wave. Philza grins and waves back, snapping a quick photograph of Sunny directing Pepito towards one of Pepito's eggs as he swings down to the rug.
He is immediately met with a plate of gorditas. Phil takes one, squeezes Missa's hand in greeting, and joins the slowly growing collection of parents on the rug; Bagi and Mike have also joined, leaving Pac to wrangle children with Tubbo.
"Early morning?" Philza knows Missa was up at the crack of dawn, unusual for him, but it's still a nice thing to ask.
"Sí," Missa only nearly drops his plate as he yawns. "Eggs needed painting."
"I really thought you'd come home after delivering the eggs."
Missa waves his hand, "Tubbo had too many to hide. We stayed to help."
Between the chocolate eggs, the painted eggs, the little plastic eggs of jellybeans, and the cascarones, Philza just knew there were going to be more than the hundred and ten eggs they'd agreed upon. Ten for each kid had been plenty, but with a general hunt as well...
Philza watches the kids scrabble around, looking for everything.
"Did he work out how to balance it so none of the eggs get left out, or is that why some eggs are marked as for them?"
"No more than ten extra eggs, and there are some extra special prize eggs hidden about. The older kids can hunt the prize eggs, and the younger ones just want the shiny ones."
There's a bit of doubt as to if if that will actually hold, but it's as good a plan as any. Kids thrive on a bit of contest, right? It'll be fine. If nothing else Chayanne will wrangle the older kids into sharing stuff out a bit more evenly, if only for Chunsik and Pepito's sakes.
Just as he's thinking that, he spots Sunny and Ramón sneaking up on Fit. He gets his camera just in time to catch the moment they break a cascarón over his bald head, showering him in confetti, a matter which only ends with them being chased across the courtyard, shrieking in delight as Fit leaves a trail of glittery confetti behind him.
It is about then that the rest of the kids arrive, their parents trailing behind. Bad is immediately met by attacks by Pomme and Richas - Philza has no fucking clue where the water balloons full of glitter came from - while Tubbo tries to round everyone up.
Philza takes more photos, but otherwise leaves them to it; conversation is largely about the amazing picnic spread, one he can keep up to in his sleep.
Even if the occasional joke does draw his attention for confused laughter and a double take.
Tubbo gesticulates dramatically as he speaks, excitement already high for the present children, but being driven further as they are congratulated on progress so far, and hyped up for the hunt to come.
It's nice, seeing everyone and the island at a bit of peace for once. The town is safe enough - as soon as it was announced as hosting the event, Philza and Bad both spent hours checking all of the lighting, and adding clear fences. It's a daytime event, but you can never be too careful with these things. Tubbo can be trusted with the kids and machines, but just to make sure Mike and Aypierre have both looked over it, while Pac and Fit helped Foolish make sure any roofs that could be accessed were not ones you could fall off without putting effort in to doing so.
Philza's pretty sure someone - probably Richarlyson - will still find a way, but it's not like there's a big area to cover, and there are plenty of both adults and other eggs about if anything does happen.
He might go perch and take some more photos.
In a little while, though; Missa hands Philza a cup of something, with a whispered 'they'll be fine'.
Philza accepts the cup, pours one for his husband, and gets out his album to show him the ones already taken.
77 notes · View notes
tackytigerfic · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
I Fall On Grass
Drarry ~ T ~ 3k ~ Friends to lovers, late 30s single dads style
Written as a birthday gift for @sweet-s0rr0w who I am very lucky to have in my life. This Harry is a bit of her and a bit of me, so I won't go through all the references, but it's worth noting that Harry's potions shop in this fic is set just off Diagon, in the same location as Draco's shop in sweet's incredible fic, Nor All That Glisters. Happy birthday, matey, and here's to you.
Harry has a garden.
It’s a good one, as gardens go, long and well-drained and south-facing, all the things Harry didn’t realise mattered back when he moved into Grimmauld Place straight after the Battle, and the garden was a near-wilderness filled with brambles and overburdened fruit trees and the nightly shriekings of urban foxes.
Right down near the fence, where the grass is longest, the wildflower seeds that Harry scatters every year have brought forth flowers. When he first started sowing them, Harry didn’t know what any of them were called, just liked the colours and the smell and the wistful way the slender stems bent and danced in the breeze. But he found a good book in the library, and then read more books, and now he knows the names for all of them. He had never really liked Herbology at school but these days he can appreciate the careful magic of it, the way something grows from nothing, the way tough things can look delicate, the way things in nature can not just survive, but thrive, even when they’re neglected.
Sometimes Harry recites all the plant names to himself when he can’t sleep; yarrow, he says, which is also called seven year’s love and old man’s mustard and nosebleed and soldier’s staunchweed and Achillea millefolium. Harry read in his plant book that Achilles used it to pack wounds on the battlefield, and if it was good enough for a demigod, it’s good enough for Harry’s Sanguine Salve. It’s good for boundary setting, warding off evil, luck in love. Pretty impressive stuff for a plant Harry grew out of a seed ball he picked up half price in the little B&Q on Holloway Road.
Meadow cranesbill—that’s for love too, though maybe everything is, in its own way. Bees adore it, snails hate it, Harry thinks it’s pretty and he snips little bunches to put in the vase beside his bed so that particular delicate blue is the first thing he sees when he wakes.
Toadflax, for breaking hexes; Draco likes that one, thinks it’s useful. For Draco’s last birthday, the one he said he was too old to celebrate so no one was to get him presents, Harry had invited everyone round, including all the kids, and when Draco arrived Harry had given him his not-a-present. A protective charm; linen thread coated with wax, and three Toadflax blossoms strung along the thread, Harry’s Stasis and layers and layers of his protective magic laid over the plump little flowers with their wide mouths and full orange throats. Draco had loved it; he had laughed and laughed, told Harry he was turning into a proper hedgewizard.
He has it hanging on the door of his office in Hogwarts, James told Harry, looking disgusted. “He’s just as much of a saddo as you are, in his own way,” James had added with a sniff. “Flowers, honestly. Just ask him out, Dad.”
Just ask him out sounds easy but Harry feels like it might be impossible in practice, especially when there’s so much to lose. So Harry goes on growing flowers, and Draco keeps coming over at the weekend, and even though there is probably a limit to the amount of times that Harry can watch Draco eat a Magnum without pushing him down into the grass and kissing the taste of ice-cream out of his mouth, he hasn’t quite reached that yet. So it’s fine.
Read the rest of I Fall On Grass on AO3
Inspired by @drarrymicrofic prompt Endlessly
213 notes · View notes
Text
The School Trip: Ch 1- Bus Trip
Summary: Jason and yourself are teachers at a high school. This long weekend you are taking all the science kids in your class to Central City to visit Star Labs and the handsome lit teacher has come along as an extra chaperone.
ScienceTeacher!Reader x EnglishTeacher!Jason Todd.
WC: 1.3k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Slowish burn, multiple parts. mutual pining, teenagers, swearing, NO CAPES, smutty books.
Tumblr media
"Mason, you gotta put that under the bus." Jason says, as Mason attempts to carry his full duffle bag through the door of the bus.
"But it's got all my stuff in it?"
"Yeah, all our stuff is under there. It'll be fine." He sees the boy's arms stiffen around the bag, "And how's cherry going to sit next to you with your bags taking up the room?"
"Good point, sir." 
"Nice work," you smile, nudging Jason in the.arm, "thought we'd have to travel with his smelly socks for a second there."
"Unlucky for you, you gotta sit next to my stinky socks the whole way instead." Jason jokes, enjoying the way your nose crinkles at the thought. It’s a small thing, but fuck its cute. This is going to be a long ass weekend, hopefully he can get to know you a bit better. He’s tried over the last few months since you started at his school, but there was always something pulling him away, whether it be curious kids asking questions or the need to get out and get home as soon as possible, there was always something. But now he’s got 3 nights and nearly 4 whole days to get to know the cute science teacher who always seems so much cleverer than him. One thing he knows for certain, something you always seem open to talk about is your cats, Rex and Cody. He’s seen pictures of the Russian Blue and the Orange kitties on your desk and it was the second thing he ever knew about you. 
Zoning back into reality as you try to usher him further onto the bus, before trying to push past him, "how are the cats going to cope without you for a few days?" he asks, not wanting to get into his interrogation of all your interests too early on.
"They'll be good. I've got a friend staying with them."
"A boyfriend?" Jason's eyes stare at your feet as you hop on the bus in front of him. He wants to look at your ass, it looks so good in those fucking jeans, but this is a work trip and he's so thankful that there's 30 fucking kids between you to keep him distracted. He just wants to get to know you, he tells himself, to make a new friend. He had so few friends in the staff, it wouldn’t be appropriate at all.
"Nah, my bestie. She's really cool." You smile as you take your seat at the front of the bus, the loud noise of thirty mouths going at once clogging your ears, "I think you'd like her."
"If she's anything like you-" he's cut off by a loud f bomb called out from the back of the bus and Jason's curiosity dies as Mr Todd rises in his chest.
"Yo! Young people!" You call before Jason even has a chance to stand up, "Mr Todd here is an old soul, so how bout we keep the F bombs to a hushed whisper, yeah?" A quiet sigh of 'yes miss' spread through the seats. "Maybe give him the illusion that the science program isn't running a meth lab?"
"Don't tell him that miss," Keira calls from the middle.
"He'll want a cut of our profits," Jayda laughs.
"Don't cross her, she'll make us do essay's." Andrew sniggers crouched behind a seat.
When their quiet charter starts up again, you turn to sit back down noticing Jason talking to the driver behind you.
"We're ready to go." Jason taking his seat next to you, his legs bunched up, the small confines of the front seat not enough for his massive legs. You try not to think about sitting next to him, about his wide frame nudging you as you bounce along, the long highway towards Central City. You need a distraction, something else to think about and not how his arms look under that fucking cardigan.
"Awesome, can't wait to spend my weekend with these delinquents."
"You're really good with them, you know."
"It's not hard. They're good kids."
"Some of them," he peers around, catching Theo pulling something from his bag.
"Nah, all my kids are great."
The driver pulls from the curb and you push into your handbag, pulling out a book.
"Can I ask you something?" Jason leans over, whispering in your ear.
""You can."
"Are you really selling meth with the kids?"
"Why? You a narc?"
"No. I just- you just- you said and i-"
"Dude chill," you slap him playfully with your book, "you don't need to be so serious."
"So should I read this instead?" He jokes, taking in the risque cover of the book, over the dark fae and his barely dressed companion, "how does a Misty Door work?"
"Shhh." You hush him, snatching the book back, "they think I enjoy reading science journals, don't blow my cover."
"Your secret's safe with me."
4 hrs and 1 nap later.
"Ok, people. We're at our stops for the night. Dinner will be at 6 and Miss has your room keys. Don't wander too far and try not to light anything on fire."
"Try our best." Keira calls out, giving him a wave as the kids start to grab their things and pile from the bus.
"Watch this." You smile at him, your hand wrapping around his bicep as a reflex to get him to stop. But then he looks down at you and you feel your heart start to race, shit. You shouldn’t have touched him. Now he’s looking at you like he’s got a bug on his arm, “Sorry,” you pull your arm away and he ducks back under the bus, "Todd, you're missing it!" you turn from him, not wanting to miss the display yourself. You heard a thud behind you and turn to see him rubbing at a spot on his head, what the fuck was he doing?
He can feel his face heating up, his heart is racing and all you did was have a hand on him. What is going on with him today? Couldn't be the way you let out little snores when you fell on him as you passed through the forest or the delight at how dirty your books are. Calm, calm down, a friend, yeah. She's just being friendly, he convinced himself, but when you call him he can help but respond. Maybe a bit too quickly, "What? What did I miss?"
"Look." You tilt your head towards the crowd of girls, "look what they're doing." You raise your brows in the direction of the young women, trying to get him to notice.
"What are they doing?"
"Just watch."
The girls each walk into the grassy park area near the hotel, each one pulling out a notebook.
"What's in those bags?" Jason asks, noticing how they're laying them in front of them.
"Magic." you nudge him, gently, trying to keep to yourself after the way he reacted to your touch before. "they're doing-"
"Magic? Really? Are they going to turn us into worms?'
"You still wanna hang out with me if I was a worm?"
"Don't think I got much choice. You're the only other adult I know in this city."
"Not for long. We're about to meet the hotel clerk and grab everyone's room keys."
"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to hang out with “ he gestures towards the older looking woman behind the counter, the light pink and blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulders and the long pearl string connected to her glasses.
"You never know. She might be a secret spy."
"Now that would be impressive.
“Wouldn't it? She'd look killer in a catsuit and heels.”
“OK, you ruined it.”
“Nah, I made it better.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will, cheers. Now let's go sort this shit out.”
“Lead the way.”
Ch 2: Dinner
Taglist: @littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymama @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics @lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m
139 notes · View notes
moonstruckdraws · 2 months
Text
Plant Portraits
(pst- psssssst!- Hey, hey you. Yeah, you! Want to see something cool? look at this post by @hellishgayliath. It's about the characters shown here! They worked on it for a week straight, so check it out!) . . .
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Hi, yes, hi, hello. Yeaaaaaah- steering away from the angst me & Helli brewed while I recover from crying. This was inspired exactly a month ago from this ask I made to Helli ask bout their oc's fav plants. I wanted to try out a new rendering style & thought this be a good opportunity + plant practice
Pico; He likes cinnamon plants/trees & likes to knaw on cinnamon sticks. So I did cinnamon plants! Specifically Cinnamomum cassia, or known as Chinese cassia, that is the most commonly sold cinnamon in North America (yes you are getting plant facts this took longer to research than to draw mainly because I like learning but that's besides the point and I wanna share knowledge) I really like how the leaves came out! Twas very fun. His plants are well maintained, healthy, & green (maybe too green lol) which shows his craft in gardening & care. Luci doesn't have teeth, so she can't really 'knaw' on things, so she didn't like trying Pico's snacks when she stole one. She was coughing on cinnamon for the next hour after. Pico laughed at her, obviously Ingenuity: the quality of being clever, original, and inventive
Bao; He likes wisteria flowers, the purple variation (my fav colour)! I loved loved LOVED coloring these plants, but it feels the most empty out of all of them (Clem is all over the place lmao) but I also kinda like it. Like it reflects their personalities this way, like he's the most upkept in society (despite his utter lack of gardening knowledge). Apparently, American wisteria is a host plant to native butterflies and moths! Add that to another reason Luci likes Bao lol. I feel like anytime she comes to the tea shop, Bao would bring her to the garden he & Pico would be working on. And everytime he's show her the plants he managed on his own they'd be drooping and dying lmao. Bao would be so confused & Luci is just unsurprised. And yes, I did think of & look at the wisteria in demon slayer Versatility: the ability to adapt or be adapted to many different functions or activities
Clem; She likes (take 3 seconds to guess) citrus fruits!! Like her name. So I of course did citrus fruits, lemons & oranges. She has my FAVORITE pose, her reaching for the fruit while juggling some in her other arm is adorable. And of course that cute face of hers! Her plants are just EVERYWHERE & is the only one to touch the ends of the canvas (that I wanted to avoid but oh well, it didn't look good otherwise). Besides, it shows her big personality and chaotic energy children have. Apparently, they're sometimes called 'Christmas oranges' because they're in season in winter months. I thought that was interesting. Does Clem like the cold, Helli or does she despise it like Pico lol? Apparently, they are also those cuties or halos oranges I use to devour as a child lol. And because of said memory, I say that Clem does too. I like to think Luci learns to share, like a child, from Clem, a said child. Luci sells back people's stuff overpriced all the time, and only shares things with Repo. She obviously isn't sharing anything with Pico & she mainly hangs out with Bao at the tea shop so she only buys things. She stole Clem's fruits in front of her once. Let's just say a bunch of sad faces and crying, not only bleed her earholes, but made her feel bad (but she'll never admit it). Does she share things now? Kindaaaaa- no. No, not at all. Only Clem & Repo Affability: the quality of being friendly and easy to talk to
Tumblr media
aaaand my inspo board just cuz I was going to draw Vera, I really was! (I was so FRICKIN EXCITED to draw the plant with the braided stock next to the pink flower) but... one look at her head and the pose I chose, I said "No."
Bao was already troubling enough I don't need to build up hate to a character I barely know & already like by getting frustrated with their head (again). So no Vera, Helli, sorrys. Her descriptor was going to be 'nobility' btw
GO CHECK OUT HELLI'S POST IT'S SO GOOD (sad) BUT AMAZING!
35 notes · View notes
lserlivestream · 4 months
Text
FIRST POST YAY - Outsiders modern au (pretty much modern day hcs)
In this au I am in fact delusional. Literally all of the boys are alive and well.
I'll eventually draw their designs for this au, also these are my personal hcs if they were in the modern day. I'll do two greasers per post + occasional ship hcs!
TW: SH, Suicide, ED
GREASER
- They all saw Barbie, all of them cried.
- All of them watch game theory, they cried when matpat announced his retirement.
- They’re all Sanrio boys no matter what
- THEY'RE SUCKERS FOR RHYTHM GAMES
- They all hate broccoli.
Tumblr media
Johnny cade.
-Bisexual + nebularomatic
- C-PTSD ADHD combo , Possible autism as well
- He/Him
- Cis male 
- 16
★ Genshin player (Scara, Layla, and alhaitham main screw you)
★ Pjsk player (Thumbs player, JP + EN server, Fav unit is Leo need, fav song is God-ish and N A A/Nh uh uh)
★ He wants the be astronomer when he grows up, speciality is stars
★ Literally can't stand going near a church because of what happened to him
★ He had to learn how to walk again but had a speedy recovery!!
He has a bunch of burns all over his body, Ponyboy thinks those are tuff
In places he was burn his skin like really tender and sensitive since it's still kind of healing (slowly)
★ Has a big fat crush on PB but he can't tell if he's hyperfixated on him or if it's something else
★ When texting PB he's an emoticon user but when texting the other greasers he uses emojis
He mainly uses ":3 , ^_^ , :D , :P" when texting pb
He mainly uses "😭, 💀, ‼️, 😨" when texting the other greasers
Ponyboy Curtis.
Bisexual
ED + ADHD
He/Him
Cis male
15
★ Genshin player 4 Johnny (Kazuha, Nilou, Kaveh main to match with Johnny)
Ponyboy has the worse attention span ever but Johnny wanted him to get into it so they could mess around with eachother + pretend to act like the characters they main.
★ Plays D4DJ occasionally
★ Wants to become a writer or poet
★ Still can't stand baloney
If he ever smells baloney, one of two things can happen
He can either feel sick to his stomach,
Or he'll have a mental breakdown because of what they went through during the summer. (The bob killing happened during summer vacation in this au)
★ He literally can't stand the thought of people sagging their pants, he will literally give you a wedgie if he catches you sagging near him
He'll either call you out
Slap you in the face and then call you out
Pull your pants up for you
Or all of the above and give you a wedgie before storming off and ranting to Johnny on how indecent people can be.
★ Has the most goofiest laughs (Two-bit is right behind him, bonus: he snorts)
★ His roots are growing in!!
TW'S AHEAD!!
Tumblr media
JOHNNYBOY / PONYCADE
Ship dynamics (media wise): Suntan for the most part!!! (I have more but those are angsty….)
Ship dynamics: Warm hands x cold hands , Relapses x Comforts them, Orange cat x Black cat (Golden retriever x black cat too) , Moles/beauty marks x Freckles , Fluffy hair x crunchy hair (or in this case really greasy hair), talks x listens, yaps x yaps too
★ Everytime Johnny tries to attempt, Ponyboy rushes to Johnny's rescue because he can't bare to lose Johnny again.
★ Johnny tries to motivate Ponyboy to at least eat for 5 days before giving in, most of the time it works
Psst... Johnny's way of motivated Ponyboy is by spoiling him (buying him books, plushies, etc.) and even if Ponyboy messes up his streak Johnny will still buy him stuff
★ Johnny often picks his skin and cuts himself (poor thing has cuts all over his arms and legs) so what Ponyboy does is try to motivate him. Him and Johnny share an account on an app that tracks how long a person has been clean, whenever Johnny hits a milestone Ponyboy would give him kisses.
Ponyboy's kissing system:
1 month: A quick peck on the lips or on the cheek
6 months: A kiss on the lips
1 year: A loving kiss
It builds up so for 5 months Johnny would receive 5 quick pecks or kisses on the cheek!
Tumblr media
Anyways I hope you enjoyed this: Take some rushed designs for those two!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
50 notes · View notes
someonefantastic · 2 years
Text
so the line in Faith, Hope & Trick where Buffy says that after slaying she “sometimes craves a non-fat yogurt" bugs me (and those on the cangel discord as well) because with the amount of calories Buffy must burn she should be allowed to eat more than just a non-fat yogurt. to rectify that, here are a bunch of food related headcanons:
shortly after becoming the slayer, Buffy realizes that she’s hungry nearly all of the time
we’re talking like wakes up to raid the fridge at three in the morning hungry
Joyce notices too and chalks it up to Buffy being a growing girl and starts preparing heartier meals and stocking up on extra filling snacks
when she starts at Sunnydale, Giles is already prepared
apparently this is a common thing for slayers cause he has drawers filled with protein bars and when she comes into the library after school he usually has a sandwich or wrap prepared and Buffy’s like “sir, I’ve only known you for like a week”
she really appreciates it though
one time when they go on patrol together he has a bag of orange slices and Buffy calls him a soccer mom
Willow is the one who most consistently has snacks though
no one knows where she gets them though, she’ll be wearing a dress with no pockets and not be carrying a bag or anything and Buffy will make a comment about being hungry and the next thing she knows a homemade granola bar is being shoved into her hand
years later Xander is still convinced that Willow learned how to use magic before she actually started actively practicing it just for magic snacks
speaking of Xander, he’s Buffy’s snack buddy
the classes where they sit next to each other, they’ll just pass a bag of pretzels or chips back and forth until the teacher tells them to knock it off
*dead silent room as they take a test* *CRUNCH* “it was Xander!” “Buffy!”
the real reason why Xander becomes snack run guy is because between him and Buffy, Giles’ slayer snack supply is in serious detriment so he makes Xander go because “if you both insist on eating me out of house and home, than at least one of you should go get more snacks” and since Buffy is the slayer, Xander gets snack duty
it means he gets first food pick though so it’s not a bad gig
Buffy has a frequent punch card at Mister Donut
actually they all do
also the nice thing about dating guys with affinities for trench coats is that they have lots of pockets to keep protein bars or trail mixes in, plus since Angel and Spike are on liquid diets so there’s no worry of either them mooching
(side note but after each one winds up in L.A. they’re still finding random food in their pockets--Spike especially has no clue how, he’s a ghost after all. Angel used his to give to scared victims or Cordelia when she was first starting out and couldn’t really afford food. When Spike shows up in L.A. he alternates between throwing the trail mix nuts at Angel and giving his snacks to those who need them)
it’s not just snacks though
Buffy is the first to go back for seconds... and thirds and no one bats an eye
sometimes after they save the world (again), the scoobies will go out to get burgers or whatever fast food is open and Buffy winds up with like six burgers or tacos or [insert food here]
Willow is very generous about sharing her fries
Xander will only share them after being persuaded by the joined forces of puppy eyes from Buffy and Willow
Giles is still ranting about the choice of food in America
the scoobies or Giles or whoever automatically doubling a recipe when Buffy is invited over without giving it a second thought
they all want her to eat as much as she wants without feeling bad about it or worrying someone else won’t get fed
the ones who like to cook or at least can cook have a few recipes under their belt that are high in protein and other stuff to help a growing slayer
by the time Faith rolls around, they’ve got their food game down
Faith is actually really surprised by how quick they are to hand her a yogurt or pull out a sandwich or give her a bagel, sometimes even before she makes a comment about being hungry
not to make this sad but after she starts going dark, she notices how they become less and less forthcoming with their food
this is purely self indulgent but I love the idea of the honorary/secondary scoobies being indoctrinated into the snack life
they hang out with Buffy, Willow, and Xander for like two weeks and the next thing they know they’re carrying around extra food
Cordelia, less than a week after she “helps” Buffy and the other scoobies kill the master “why the hell am I bringing two smoothies to school?”
her housekeeper actually makes really good smoothies though, Buffy is secretly always thankful when Cordelia shows up to school with an extra thermos
Oz just always has beef jerky
Anya is a little less helpful in the snack department but she reads a book on food and nutrition and talks about the merits of calories and proteins and other food stuff for like an hour straight
she means well
also she can’t really cook but she almost always has ice cream to share
and strange cheeses
I feel like Tara would make the best oatmeal raisin cookies, maybe she also has like sunflower seeds and bags of granola on her too
she’s the one who jumps on the snack train the fastest, she hears Willow mention Buffy and snacks once and the next thing they know she’s got her school bag filled
Dawn steals a lot of Buffy’s food
she uses the “I’m a growing girl too. You know... teenager” excuse often
it works usually
not food related but there’s at least two water bottles a person at all times
hydration is important folks
anyway this got really long but I simply love the idea of Buffy being allowed to eat a lot of food without being made to feel bad about it and the rest of her friends/family supporting her fully
842 notes · View notes
diagonal-queen · 1 year
Note
HI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM HAKSHWKDHKSH 😭😭
SINCE YOURE DOING REQUESTS CAN YOU PLS PLS WRITE SMTH ABT FIRST KISS WITH CHUUYA AAA IT CAN BE A DRABBLE OR HEADCANONS OR ANYTHING, ID ACCEPT ANYTHING PLS IM ON MY KNEES I WILL GIVE YOU COOKIES
THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!! ALSO YOU DO NOT HAVE TO GIVE ME ANYTHING FOR ME TO WRITE FOR YOU. YOU COULD SAY 'DIA WRITE ME THIS OR I WILL LITERALLY KILL YOU' AND I'D BE LIKE 'YES MASTER :D'. THAT BEING SAID I'M SURE YOUR COOKIES ARE DELICIOUS <3
Mutually Beneficial Transaction
Tumblr media
♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!Reader
♡ synopsis: After not seeing each other for a while, you and Chuuya spend the day together. It gets a little more romantic than you expected.
♡ wc: 1.4k
♡ cw: Swearing, mentions of death.
note: I'm so, SO sorry that this took so long to complete anon. This was one of the first reqs I got and I feel like I've let you down T-T I had a bunch of different ideas for this but not a clue which one to use- hopefully you like the end result though <3 Apologies for errors, hope you enjoy x
Tumblr media
Most people would see you and Chuuya as you were out and about and make the assumption that you were on a date. After all, you were dragging him from place to place, a couple clothes bags dangling from your free arm while he followed you with a fond smile on his face. You didn't have any issues with this, but it certainly wasn't the case. However, if it were, you're sure you would have been all over Chuuya and vice versa.
Yokohama was well known to be a city teeming with crime, specifically at the hands of the notorious Port Mafia of which Chuuya was an executive. You weren't a member yourself but you didn't feel as if you had anything to fear being close with Chuuya. You assumed that since you'd known each other for so long that you had some form of immunity. That being said, it had been a while since you were able to spend any personal time with him.
That's the reason that, on a rare day off, Chuuya called you to meet him at a nearby cafe for breakfast to spend the day with you. Feeling a little lonely without him, you were more than happy to participate. Thus, you spent the day running around Yokohama with Chuuya doing a multitude of things- shopping, trying different foods, and the like. Doing couple-y things, you thought. The question of whether or not Chuuya was at all like-minded lingered in the back of your head most of the day.
Around mid-evening before dinner, you and Chuuya found yourselves a bench near the port and took your seats, letting your arms rest from the bags they'd been carrying, and your feet rest from taking you so many places. The sunset setting on the horizon was a bright orange, the sky a calming ombre of shades of pink and blue.
"Today was brilliant, Chuuya," you breathed, a serene smile gracing your face as you absorbed the view. "Thank you for all this."
"It's nothin', really," he sighed, brushing a stray ginger lock from his face. "I'm just glad you were happy."
"You're way too nice to me. You know I won't be able to repay you- at least not like this?" You cocked an eyebrow at him, with a chuckle.
"I don't care about that. You spending time with me is payment enough." Chuuya glanced over at you with a smile. "I'm glad I got to hang out with you today."
"It really has been a while, huh?" You mused. "Things are busy in the mafia right now, I guess?"
"Things are technically always busy there, but because I'm an executive I have a lot more shit to do than most other members." He explained.
"That's also why you're so fuckin' loaded, I guess." You joked. The man beside you let out a snicker. "Seriously, though, just because you make a lot doesn't mean you always need to spend it on me."
"It's honestly fine, hon. I mean it. Besides, I kinda like buying you stuff." When you tilted your head at him as if to ask for further explanation, he elaborated. "You always get so excited whenever I get you a gift. It's nice knowing that I'm able to make you happy."
"You make me happy whenever I see you, regardless of whether you buy me things!" You insisted, shifting towards him and earnestly taking his gloved hand in your own. "I like spending time with you! I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't, you know."
"...yeah." He squeezed your hand. "...hey, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Chuuya."
"Have you been feeling lonely recently?" The question surprised you, because it seemed rather random and uncharacteristic coming from Chuuya. You turned to face him.
"I mean...I guess, a little. It's been kinda lonely not having you around. Sometimes I got worried that you'd died or something," you admitted, your voice quiet.
"Died? Me?" Chuuya asked, making you giggle.
"I know, I know. Even God wouldn't be able to kill you. But I really couldn't help but worry. I'm glad to have been able to spend today with you. I like knowing that you're alright," you cast him a genuine smile, "and I had a great time. Did you?"
"'Course I did. I was with you." Chuuya responded returning your beam. You tapped your lips and weakly swatted at him.
"Shush, you."
"Now that I think of it, I did kinda miss messing with you." Chuuya leaned forward as his eyes narrowed.
"You're so damn sadistic, Chuuya. No wonder you're a mafia exec- that title suits you to a tee," you scoffed, pushing your finger into his forehead. "I can't even catch a break when I'm on your good side."
"Don't complain, you have it pretty easy with me."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." You rolled your eyes. "Cheeky..."
"Who's cheeky?" Chuuya raised an eyebrow. You leaned forward to reach his eye level, both of you staring one another down. You smirked at him.
"The one spending all his money on me so that he can mess with me, maybe?" You suggested, with a small head tilt. The pair of you shared a quick chuckle, before it suddenly dawned on you how close you were to Chuuya.
You took note of how soft his glove felt on your hand, and how his breath danced across your face. The air around you suddenly seemed hot and sticky. You could hear your heartbeat in your temples.
"...you know what?" Chuuya spoke softly. "If you wanna repay me, maybe there's one thing you can do..."
Your eyes flickered towards his lips. "Yeah?"
"Mhm. You don't have to do it if you don't want to...but I'd appreciate it a lot."
"Anything for you, Chuuya," you breathed.
"Is that right?"
"Of course..." You had mentally prepared for this moment for years, and you felt a surprising amount of confidence. Though, that was mostly because Chuuya seemed to be returning your...very fervid attitude. You were both quiet, the only sounds being your slightly wavering breaths. Your faces were barely centimetres apart now.
"In that case..." you inhaled and closed your eyes in anticipation, quickly melting into his touch when your lips connected.
Chuuya did feel warm, and you felt a tingle in your chest. Your first kiss with Chuuya was better than you'd expected; not only did Chuuya meet all of your expectations but he also seemed equally interested in kissing you. You could only assume, anyway, when Chuuya's fingers found their way beneath your chin and gently lifted your face up so he could better access your lips.
The moment felt fleeting. When Chuuya pulled away you wanted to take his face and keep kissing him, but you didn't. That would probably shock him. You opened your eyes to see Chuuya's blue ones boring into yours. His face was relaxed, if a little flushed.
"Oh...oh, you're good at kissing..." You practically mouthed, you were so quiet. Chuuya couldn't hold back his laugh at your expression.
"How kind of you."
"No, like-!" You huffed, pushing him away from you. "You are a sadist."
"Nah, not to you," he shook his head. You didn't know what to say to him. Chuuya let out a relenting exhale. "I can be if you want me to be."
"...yeah. To be honest, you'd kinda lose half your charisma if you weren't." After saying that, he gave you a frown. You stifled a giggle.
"I'm the cheeky one?"
"Yes, you are. But I think I prefer it that way," you smiled. Chuuya truly couldn't get enough of it.
"I think...and you be quiet," he began, pointing a stern finger towards you. "...I think you and I are a good match. Dating-wise."
"You don't say?" You teased.
"Y/N, I'm being serious here," he insisted, taking your hand once more. "Can I be your boyfriend?"
"...yes?!" You raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have kissed you if the answer was no? You dense idiot, Chuuya."
"My apologies for making sure I wasn't dragging you into something you didn't want," he rolled his eyes. You laced your fingers together, before lifting your joined hands and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. His gaze softened. "...thanks, hon."
"Seriously, though, I actually won't be able to spoil you or anything like that, so are you really sure you wanna date me?" You asked.
Chuuya sighed in exasperation. "I'm cuttin' you off if you keep this shit up, Y/N."
"Okay, okay!"
Tumblr media
i'm kinda tempted to write something now based on my first kiss because imo it was CRAZY romantic, but i don't wanna disrespect the person with whom i shared said kiss. if you're reading this; hey man do i have permission to write a loose recount of what we did except instead of us it's like some fictional people? i will give you a creative credit for worldbuilding
247 notes · View notes
Note
List of hot takes ig just cuz
Gwent was boring because Trent had no personality in TDI. I like to say that he got “female character-ed” meaning the only role he serves in the plot was to be Gwen’s love interest. When he did stuff in TDI, it was do stuff with Gwen or talk to other people regarding Gwen (with very few exceptions), otherwise he either was killed by a box of oranges or fell out of a plane.
… I think both Harold and Leshawna are straight.
The Courtney derailment started in the Total Drama Drama Drama Drama Island special
Maybe Trent should kiss Duncan on the lips in TDA. Maybe he’s not jealous of him, maybe he’s just confused.
Justin may have been funny, but he was not a good villain in TDA. Heck, I didn’t even realize he was the villain in the first half. I know he confronted Gwen about the Trent stuff, but he was very much justified in doing so??
If you hate Owen because he’s “just a fart machine,” get out. Owen is a really fun and good character with a personality beyond fart jokes. Did we watch the same show?
Aletyler > Alenoah
I actually like the love triangle plot in TDWT. It’s fun drama, and I am giggle and kicking my feet in the scene leading up to the Gwuncan kiss. It also is way more fun to read it as Courtney being lesbian crushing hard on Gwen, then comphet-ing hard with Alejandro.
Cody literally didn’t do anything in TDWT until the Drumheller episode.
Zoey isn’t boring in roti; she just wasn’t given enough time to develop.
Lighting was and should not have been a villain in ROTI. After Jo was voted out, they gave him a bunch of evil traits for no reason. And I think he was completely justified in being upset at Cameron because Cam used him…
Follow up point, Cam did way more devious things that Lightning, but he’s not seen has a villain because he’s a short little dork. Let Cameron be mean!
Samkota is really cute and one of the best canon ships <3
Gwen and Courtney were lowkey annoying in TDAS. Together, separate, whatever: they were annoying me.
Scottney is so damn stupid, but so fun to watch.
TDPI is actually really fun. People just want to shit on something.
.
45 notes · View notes
Text
Let's settle down for the night.
Tumblr media
Quick summary: You’ve been each other’s for a long time. You trust him with your life, your body, you time, and he trusts you with his. Sometimes, though, you find yourself craving a quieter kind of intimacy. Without the helmet.
Word count: 6.3K
Warnings: A lot of fluff 😩😩; may be inaccurate ‘cause, I gotta say, I’m a Star Wars fan but I did not proper hyperfixate on it like with some of the other stuff I’ve written about (buffs, please help me out here); kind of angsty??? like, reader’s an orphan etc; allusions to smut (under the shirt stuff amiright amiright); explicit mentions of smut.
A/N: What a fittie, guys. Bound to happen. This one goes out to @manicdream for giving me a lil’ prompt where you and Din are in looove aaaand—I guess you’ll have to keep reading for the fluuuff and feels! I really had fun with this one! Love this stoic, brooding, dramatic lad, and I enjoyed exploring love languages, their communication, etc, etc. i have no idea when this would take place, so just try to follow along, I guess??? I hope you enjoy this short, little story! I think this is gonna be just one part by the way. For all you Pedro Pascal sluts out there 😌😌😌, I do think I’m gonna write a smut thing for Joel Miller TLOU. NO PROMISES, THOUGH. Just finished the latest episode and what the fuck 😀😀😀 it just gets more and more traumatising huh. Anyway, please enjoy this happy fic!
ੈ✩‧₊˚
We’ve been walking for a while, now. Muscles aching, legs straining. The low, sloping sands of the Tatooine desert are pink in the setting suns, stretching on for years and years. 
The light flames up brilliant red and orange and bright white in his beskar, and I have to squint my eyes when I look over at him. From this angle, he looks like he’s all armour. When the suns finally go down, he’ll be a silhouette. That time of day always suits him best. You know how people you meet just seem like things sometimes. Din’s like rich soil, the kind that you can sink your fingers deep into with one single push. Or like a rock – with how little he talks, I used to think he was a rock. He’s also dusk. Dusk happens to be my favourite time of day. 
My feet are dragging again. If I were with anyone else, I’d never let my guard down—but it’s just us, and we’re in the middle of nowhere, and we’ve got a whole bunch of credits in my pack that’s almost enough to finally buy us our own ship. Won’t have to put up with sceptical glances on commercial flights anymore, or getting bashed about by produce on cargo ships we’ve had to sneak onto. Maker, I miss the comfort of the Razor Crest. But, y’know, it’s—it’s what it is. Lucky for us, transportation is the worst of our problems – it’s been a relatively quiet trip over the planet; no trouble—yet. Quietly trading with sketchy contractors in isolated taverns. We never ask questions about the high-paying ones, whether we’re implicitly tipping the scales of some political bantha shit, but I’m always curious.
A dry gust of wind cools my stifling skin, a break from the still weather.
“You alright back there?”
Din has his head angled slightly back towards me. His grainy, modulated voice curves my mouth up into a smile, and I stare fondly over at him as he slows his pace a little to fall into step with me. I urge him not to slack with the jerk of my head.
“Yeah, ‘f’course,” I assure him, tongue buzzing with foul saliva. Can’t drink just yet, though, ‘cause I already chugged about half of my waterskin way back at sun-up. He’s offered me the rest of his, but I refused to take it. Though, right now, grimacing at the bile in my mouth, I am thinking hard about changing my mind. “We’re safe,” I say confidently. We’ve been careful.
“I know.” Yeah, I know he knows. “I was just wonderin’ cause, y’know, you’ve been a little quiet.”
Playfully, I nudge into him (damn that beskar) and laugh as he shoves me back. “What, so you’re saying you want my ‘mindless chit-chatting’ back now, huh?”
I’m talking out of my ass, of course. We’ve had a thing going for a while, now – it’s been just us for a while. I know he doesn’t mean any harm when he teases me like that. It takes a lot for him to hurt my feelings, and he never does. Maybe at first, when neither of us would admit that we were happier being together than apart. I don’t know why I didn’t just tag along with him sooner. If I had known that those gruff, little grunts he’d make during conversation when we’d cross paths during jobs meant that he was enjoying himself?—well, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time in asking him to be my partner. In all senses.
But still, he feels the need to explain: “Ah, you know I was just—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I suppose that, after so long needing to be strong and tough and brave and coarse to get on with life and work, he likes being soft. This is soft for him: letting me walk ahead just slightly, his shoulder behind mine, so that he’s always got my six; teasing me about things he’s told me are his favourite qualities of mine; secretly watching me from behind the security of his visor. I don’t tell him I love it, and I don’t tell him I notice, but he knows, I think.
He turns away to complete a quick scan of the horizon on his blind side, and I do the same for mine, before we turn back to each other. He’s tired – I can tell by the way he’s leaning in towards me, like he wants to be held. The privacy of this big, wide desert must be a comfort to him. I know it is to me.
“How’s your day been?” he asks me lowly.
I laugh. “You mean the day we’re currently spending together?”
He nods. “Tell me about it.”
Stars, I’m glad it’s getting dark, because my cheeks start to glow with warmth. Not necessarily just his voice or even the words. Consistently, he always asks about my day. Yesterday, it was in a dingy tavern, after avoiding a bar fight (some prick tried to trick me out of a drink the contractor bought me fair ‘n’ square). The day before, it was in the dead of night, looking up at the stars, with the bounty, unconscious, lying between us.
“I liked it.” He scoffs. “I did. There’s been no trouble, and, y’know, I grew up on a desert planet like this.”
“Bantha farmers, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
He grunts.
I laugh again. “You bastard! You’re so judgemental. Honestly worse than those Coruscanti pricks we worked for ages back. Remember how they looked at us when we traded? Tried to underpay us? Bet they’ve never risked even chipping a nail.” Bounty hunting is a little more difficult these days without the assurance of carbonite freezing, without the security of the Guild – we’ve had to complete ten times as many jobs for five times lesser rates just to get where we are now. Reminds me of when I first started out: bounties fighting back, trying to make a run for it. But what else are we supposed to do?—take up a job where?
The suns slip below the horizon, and everything is washed a low, gentle violet—and Din is that silhouette, now, and everything seems peaceful, like it all fits together just right. Even though, of course, it might not fit together just right when I try to haggle the price of that gunship down a few credits or so and the vendor absolutely obliterates me with the most personal, cutting insults in the entire galaxy. Din’s no help in the communication sector there – the stoic type – but, if anything, he’ll be able to stand behind me with that armour and steel glare and weapons of his to try and intimidate that damn stubborn seller all the way to fuckin’ Bargain Town. Because, damn, we’re relying on it. Peli, bless her soul, doesn’t have anything large or powerful enough to support the three of us on our run from the Empire.
Speaking of the three of us, the kid’s absence, I hate to say it, is kind of nice. Of course, I worry about him, but I trust that he’s being well-looked-after at the garage. Safer than he would be with us. But I haven’t had Din to myself in what seems like years. Last time he touched me was—was—a long time ago. Too much stress. Not enough time to savour it. And he’s all about savouring those kind of things, those moments, dragging them out as long as possible.
I can feel his stare on the side of my face. My sweaty, greasy, clogged face – stars, I can’t wait until we reach a water supply.
“Are you looking at me right now?” I ask, amused.
He does another strategically-timed scan of the area, turning away from me even though I can’t see his face. I wonder if he blushes under that helmet, if it’s really obvious. “You’re looking at me.”
I roll my eyes and smile softly, lowering the scarf around my nose and mouth and tucking the fabric beneath my chin. “How was your day?”
“Good.”
“Good why?”
“‘Cause I’ve got your mindless chit-chattin’ to keep me company.”
Forcing a laugh, I glare at him again. “Ha-ha, you’re so funny, Din. Real knee-slapper right there.”
It goes quiet again – he becomes like that, sometimes, after I use his name. The first time I spoke it was in the dark hull of the Razor Crest, in hyperspace. He sat and stared straight ahead at the streaking silver, motionless, wordless. Here, the desert air is still and calm. His shoulder is still brushing up against mine.
“Are you tired?”
Yes. My legs feel like they’re about to fuckin’ fall off. Here, walking along the plain, is good, but earlier, climbing over dunes and rocks and boulders, was hell. But we need to be getting back to the kid as soon as possible. As much as I trust Peli, I need to see him and make sure he’s okay. So, I shake my head and say, “It’s only a little ways up till the next settlement.”
“It’s a lot further.”
My heart drops. “Oh.” Wishful thinking’s just got me forging fake memories at this point. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me.
“D’you think we should stop?”
“No, we can—”
“I’m tired—” he abruptly comes to a halt, apparently deciding that this little patch of sand will be a nice bed, “—let’s stop for the night.” He beckons me to him, coming in close and retrieving the lamp from inside the sling-bag, setting it down.
Well, if he insists.
You know, it’s moments like these where I just let myself be fond of him. I let myself stare freely at him, admire the shape of his body, the sleek, smart make of his helmet, let myself wonder if his face is any bit as handsome as he sounds. Everything about him is rough. The way he fights, the way he bargains, the way he pilots. His hands. I think about the texture of his hands as I sit down. I remove my gloves and stuff them away, gliding my skin across my skin to just try and simulate that touch.
“You’re not cold?”
I untwine the bag from my shoulders, setting it down and retrieving our remaining food for this day. “I’m not cold. I have, like, five layers on.”
He eyes me doubtfully. “Okay.” And he sits down on the opposite side of the lamp, facing me, one leg propped up as a rest for his arm. The pulse rifle lays by his side, ready.
I offer him a hardening clump of bread and a few stout, odd-looking, white-and-purple vegetables (generously given to us by a farmer we passed a while back)—but Din shakes his head and urges me to eat as much as I can. I bite back a remark about that helmet of his – he must be starving.
“We’ll get something better to eat when we get to the city.”
I snort. “It’s hardly a city.”
“You know what I mean.”
Stupid Din always making stupid decisions and rationalising them because he thinks it’s for me. He knows I can take care of myself, that I’m good at it, but that doesn’t stop him from dropping everything to try. It’s nice for someone to have my back, for that someone to be as wonderful as him, but, holy kriff, he’s so stupid sometimes.
I tell him flat-out, “We don’t have enough credits,” because we don’t. We have barely enough to cover a scrappy, little ship. We definitely don’t have enough to purchase any food. We’ve relied on favours and luck for long enough, and we can go for longer until we’re off-planet. Peli’s got—edible food—probably. I don’t trust it won’t make me shit my brains out as soon as we’re in hyperspace, though.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, though. “We’ll get a worse ship.”
“Din.” Stupid. I toss him a chunk of bread, swivelling around to give him privacy.
He protests, “I’m not hungry,” and reaches over and taps it against my shoulder – I shrug him away.
“I’m already stuffed, so what’re you gonna do about it?”
He sighs in exasperation. “Thought you might say that.”
“‘Cause I’m just so predictable?”
“You’re stubborn.”
Snapping my head over my shoulder, I scoff and give him an incredulous look. “I’m stubborn?”
He tilts his head to the side as if to goad me further. “Yes.” The warm light of the lamp glows along the strong planes and clean lines of his armour. His hand leisurely dangling from his knee, he rubs his gloved fingers together, and I’m suddenly jealous of a clothing item. I know he must notice the slight catch in my breath.
I turn back around to face him, the sand moulding easily beneath my smooth movements. “And there’s not a brooding Mandalorian sitting across from me now, refusing to eat.”
The first few years of working with Din, I never once saw him eat or drink a thing. It was like he was a droid (don’t tell him I said that): always working, working hard, but fuelled by seemingly—nothing? Obviously, I figured he had to eat some time. When I became his partner, sharing the Razor Crest, he’d retreat to his bunk to eat. And when I asked him his favourite food, he said he didn’t really hate or love anything – as long as he could consume it and it wouldn’t kill him, he’d tolerate it. Over the years, though, I’ve learned he tries to steer clear from any kind of berries. Doesn’t trust ‘em. And he’s not a fan of fish, but the kid is, and I am, so we have it more often, now.
Din jerks his head and allows me to toss him one of those weird vegetables. Having already finished my chunk of bread (on the brink of mould—so yummy!), I take a large, eager bite right out of the vegetable. My mouth is flooded with its bitter juice, and I squint my face up a little at the greenish tang.
“How’s that taste?” he asks.
“Like dirt.” I chew the mouthful slowly, careful not to judge too quickly, and eventually hum in contentment. “But—” I retract, “—sorta sweet underneath. You ever tasted a beet?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s sorta like that.”
He watches me for a few heartbeats, calm in the steady, amber light. I smile at him.
“Turn around,” he tells me brusquely.
I wink at him and do as I’m told, shuffling around again and turning to back the blue and purple horizon, the lamp and his gaze warm on my back.
I’m silent as he unseals his helmet with a quiet click and hiss. I try to imagine him again. Every single time, I feel guilty over it, because I know how dedicated he is to his religion—but, oh, I can’t help myself. I run my tongue over my teeth, enjoying the remains of that bite, before taking another, crunching down into the flesh. As I do, I hear Din do the same. My heart stops a little in my chest, and I let out a slow breath.
“It’s nice.”
Stars. Stars, that voice. His voice, unfiltered by the modulator. Slightly hoarse from lack of water, scraping a little in his throat, but smooth in its low, rich tone. Like dirt you can sink your fingers right down into.
I set my hand flat on the sand my by side before pushing them vertically down, down, down, past the cooling surface and to where the glowing spirit of the day lingers.
Calm yourself down. It’s just a voice.
“You should have the rest of it,” he continues, and there’s the tap of the vegetable against my shoulder again.
Oh, stars. He hasn’t got his helmet on. He hasn’t got his helmet on. If I turned, he could be right there. Just him. I think about clamping my eyes shut to avoid the temptation of looking at him, but I can’t really co-ordinate myself at the moment. He taps again, encouraging me to take it back. My fingers hook up inside the sand, and it slips around me to my satisfaction.
“If you like it,” I say dryly, “you should eat it.”
The vegetable disappears from my peripheral. Another crunch, and another, and another. We sit in silence as he finishes it. The horizon is finally flat and unwavering in the cool of the night.
He gives my shoulder a squeeze when he’s done, hiking up the scarf around my head so it doesn’t slip too far over my hair. When I turn around, the helmet’s back on.
I wonder if he saw the colours of the sunset earlier. I had my head turned up for hours, watching every single shift in pink and orange and blue with wonderstruck eyes—but Din was striding on ahead, uninterested. I’m no engineer, alright? I don’t exactly know what he’s seeing in that helmet of his, or why. Infrared sensors for tracking, like in a rifle I once had that – that was one of the best damn weapons I ever owned, guaranteed to locate and hit your target, and I loved it to bits—until it got fuckin’ stolen by a bunch of fuckin’ Jawas. Point is, isn’t it just black and white in there? Sort of a purple-y black and white, and you can see changes in tone and depth and all, but black and white nonetheless. Red for footprints, though. Is that what he saw when I told him to look at the sky at sundown? Black and white? What is he seeing as he’s looking at me now? Me, I’m admiring the regal gleam of his beskar again. But he won’t be able to interpret the warmth of the lamp’s light on my face the same way as I did for him. I’m not the prettiest in the galaxy by a long shot, I know, but isn’t he missing out? On the beauty of the natural world? I think I’m prettiest at sundown – something in my undertone, I dunno – but he’s only seen me in that greyscale. Imagine if he just thinks I’m—okay-looking.
Overthinking it again. Din doesn’t waste time with things he doesn’t think add to his life. He doesn’t think I’m just okay-looking.
“You’ve got a good voice,” I tell him, grinning widely.
“You’ve heard my voice before.” The raw clarity of his words are lost once again behind the modulator. I shift my position, wriggling away from my disappointment.
“I know.”
A chill passes brightly through the air, and I tug my cloak tighter around myself, bringing my knees in close. Din doesn’t move a muscle, though, and he sits there and observes me a little longer.
We’ve been each other’s for a long, long time. We’ve been through a lot of shit together. And I’m not exactly thinking critically, and I’m not sure where I’m going with it, but I find myself asking, “When Mandalorians get married, they can take their helmets off around their partner, right?”
The mortification immediately sets in.
Holy kriff.
Din looks at me carefully. Then, he nods the slightest of nods.
Holy kriff.
“I’m not—” I stutter out, eyes darting away, over there, over here, anywhere but his constant, steady, shameless attention, “—‘m not asking you to marry me, Din. I was—I was just wondering ‘cause, y’know, I think you mentioned it to me once, ages back, and—and I was just thinkin’ that maybe—” you pause, glancing up at him; he doesn’t move a muscle, and there’s nothing that gives away any kind of anything he might be feeling, “—maybe I’d like to see—what—you—look—like.”
Wow. Wow, I’m almost amazed at how slick I am with these things. God, Imperial spies could learn a thing or two from the master.
I clear my throat, deciding to embrace the grave I’ve dug for myself. “But I’m not asking you to marry me, so you can stop looking at me like that, now, alright?.”
He says nothing, does nothing.
I situate myself with untying my waterskin from beneath my cloak, hiding my face in my shoulder and cursing, “Damn voice. Gets me too damn stupid-excited,” under my breath, like it’s a secret, like he can’t hear every fuckin’ word I’m saying on a planet seemingly stripped from all other noise.
Seething at myself, I crunch back into my vegetable, then tearing off a piece of bread to stuff in alongside it, taking a careless swig from my waterskin to wash it all down. Honestly, at this point, I’d rather die from dehydration than address the awful, awful statement I just made. Stars. Probably scared him right off. We’re as close to married as the real thing anyway. Din’s more of an actions-over-words kind of guy – I don’t need to call him my husband. It’s not like—well, marriage is companionship, and we have that already. Marriage is trust, and we have that already. I don’t need to call him my husband. He’s just—my guy. My person. Would be nice to have it on paper, I guess. Proof that he’s my person, that he wants to be my person. Bless him, but for every single thing he does for me, every action, I still crave him saying those words. Not shit to do with marriage, exactly. Just: “You’re my person. I’m yours.” Words aren’t his forte.
“I’d marry you.”
I swallow the hard lump of bread with difficulty, scrunching my face up into a grimace. “Hmm?” I ask, drifting back to the present.
“I’d marry you,” he repeats, and my eyes go wide. Oh. “Right here. If you want me.”
Huh. Huh. I dunno what the appropriate reaction is here, so I just continue staring unblinkingly at him. My stomach is erupting in flutters, and I just stare at Din.
Then, I look around us, at the barren desert. And look, yeah, I grew up on a planet very similar to Tatooine, and, yeah, sure, I have fond memories of my childhood. And then they get not-so fond. I scrunch my nose up in disapproval. “Not here.”
“Where?”
I shrug, brows knitted together in deep consideration. “I dunno.” And I really don’t, because—because I didn’t think we were the marrying type. Just the together type. Growing old and pissy together, living together, fighting together, figuring it out together—type. Mandalorians value community and strength and The Way over everything else – not necessarily love. Didn’t take him for the marrying type.
I screw my mouth together and exhale deeply. “Just somewhere prettier, I guess,” I decide on. “Not this quiet, but still pretty quiet. Y’know, somewhere with trees. Proper, green trees. But not the kind where there’s stuff in there waiting to kill you.” I want there to be as many colours as possible, in the sky, in the flowers, so he can see me and see all that beauty all together at once.
He tilts his head. “Like, with mountains?” he asks.
I smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind mountains.”
He glances down at the sand, tracing some kind of pattern into it with his forefinger. “We could go to Takodana?”
Stars. My smile widens. Stars, is this a proposal? Did I just propose to him? Did he just propose right back? That’s actually quite funny, that is. In the middle of nowhere, running out of water, running low on food. Romantic.
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Din?” I ask, more confident.
He grunts and shakes his head. “Not really.”
“‘Not really’,” you mock him, deepening your voice and attempting to widen your shoulders. I laugh at my own impression, leaning back on my hands and huffing a strand of hair out of my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shifts, clearing his throat and adjusting to a more comfortable position. “I mean, I’ve kissed you—between your legs,” he tells me, nervous, like I’ve managed to forget how well he treats me, how eager he is to kneel down in the pitch-black and take care of me like that.
Heat blooms in my stomach. “Great work down there, by the way,” I tell him through a sly grin.
“Thank you, mesh’la.” Is he blushing? Does he blush? I find myself wondering over that again.
I smile and stare at him.
“Could I kiss you?” The suggestion just slips out without a second thought. I just think that, after some food and water and rest, I don’t really have to filter anything out anymore. I don’t have any complaints – just some recommendations for fun we could be having.
Din doesn’t reply.
Ah, shit. Shit, what the fuck is wrong with me? Mandalorian, remember? Stupid, stupid. If there’s anything anyone knows about Din, it’s that he’s a Mandalorian first. He’s a Mandalorian before he’s mine – he’d never say it out loud, but we both know it’s true. I’d never ask him to choose because that’s cruel. Am I being cruel?
Either way, I can’t seem to stop, and I don’t seem to care: “I’d keep my eyes shut,” I blurt out, trying to keep my breathing from becoming heavy with lust, and failing a little more than a little bit. Stars, I’m turning myself on at this point; he just has to sit there and look pretty. “You know I’d keep ‘em shut. I wouldn’t look. I just—wanna—” you sigh, “—I just wanna kiss you. It’s nice, I swear. Nice feeling. I’d keep my eyes closed. Or—or you could tie something around ‘em?”
He doesn’t reply.
“Stars,” I curse. “I’m sorry.” I wipe my eyes from dust and dirt and blink hard. “I think I’m just tired.”
“You’re tired?”
“Yeah.”
“Is ‘tired’ why you’re pressing onto yourself down there?”
He flicks his fingers over to where I’ve got my hand stuffed between my legs, rocking softly against the heel of my palm. I swallow hard. Fuck, I didn’t even notice I was doing that. I convinced myself I was—ha!—I was just warming up my hands.
I shift my eyes sheepishly back up to meet Din’s, guilty as charged.
He sighs deep from within the chest. “You keep ‘em closed and we tie something around ‘em.”
Silent, I nod in agreement. My thighs squeeze together.
He jerks his head to beckon me over, and I go shuffling on over to him on my knees, probably looking like a right idiot, but, then again, I don’t really give a fuck because I’m about to kiss Din Djarin. I’m about to kiss my Mandalorian. I’m about to kiss my companion of almost a decade, more if you count all those shady bounties we used to end up competing for. My Mandalorian, my Din Djarin, mine, mine, mine. I’m not possessive, I don’t think, but, gods, I—I—I can’t believe it sometimes. That I get to know him like this. That I get to know such an incredible person. That he won’t say more than two words at a time to anyone, not even those we’re close with, like Peli—but, with me, he’ll talk for hours. He jokes that he’s just humouring me, but I know he loves it. He tells me so.
Din makes a motion with his hand to turn around, so I do, and I let him tie an old, folded food cloth around my head – unsanitary, sure, but, again, I don’t care, and my head’s reeling, and my heart’s racing so hard, thrumming in my ears, and he’s so close, and his fingers are tangling through my hair as he lowers my scarf, and they’re brushing against the nape of my neck now, and—
“Can you take your gloves off, Din?” I ask, and, unfortunately, the neediness seeps right through my voice. “Please?” Stars, I’m pathetic.
Behind me, there’s the shuffle and quiet groan of leather as he tugs them off, and then a quiet pat! as he tosses them to the side.
And then his hands are back. Rough, calloused fingertips ghosting over my ears, my hair, as he knots the cloth, then knots it again for good measure. Darkness is closed over my eyes, tinged the rich green of the fabric. My breath seems nearer this way, short, shallow, hot. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, still, as he cups the back of my neck, his touch cool.
I reach over my shoulder, taking a deep inhale as I run my fingers over the dips and hills of his knuckles. I fold my hands over his and squeeze, bringing them forward and kissing his fingertips gently. I feel the texture and thickness of his fingers, trace the lines of his palm. Din comes in close behind me, the solidity of his chestplate (cuirass? I dunno, once, he got all pissy ‘cause I didn’t call by it’s actual name) pressing up against my shoulder blades.
I smooth my thumbs along the deepest crease in his palm. “Y’know, once, before I met you, I met someone who told me he could foretell my whole life, and my child’s life, and their child’s life, just from the lines on my hands.”
“Oh, yeah?” His voice is right in my ear, low and intimate. Maker. “What do mine say?”
“All good things,” you reply shakily.
“Anything about Takodana?”
He twists his hand over, enveloping my right and rubbing circles into the back of it.
Then, he’s letting me go, leaning away—and there’s that hiss and click of him removing his helmet. I blink against the green cloth, my eyelashes dragging up slowly. If I hold my breath, I can hear him breathing.
“Turn around,” he tells me, and I do.
It’s too dark for silhouettes anymore. If we were in daylight again, maybe I could’ve seen the vaguest outline of him. But we’re not in daylight. I blink again against the cloth, hard.
His hands reach out and grasp my hips, and they’re warm and large and I never get used to it. The breath is still knocked out of my chest. He angles and adjusts me to face him, and I place my hands on his shoulders, fumbling around his armour before settling them instead on his neck.
His neck. Bare skin. I smooth my hand up the column of his pretty, perfect neck, feeling every inch of him. I already know the texture of his hair. When he’s between my legs and kissing me there, I like to thread my fingers through it. It’s thick and wavy and slightly too long. But otherwise, I keep my hands to myself. Even though I’m not technically seeing him in the dark when he takes his helmet off to taste me, I don’t reach out and touch his face—because it’s his. It’s his, and he’s taken an oath to keep it that way. He’s never initiated a kiss, so I’ve never asked. I’ve been content. I’ve been patient.
But I guess my patience has reached a limit. Slowly, tentatively, I drift my touch up, up, and feel along his jawline, coarse with longer scruff. His breath hitches, and I smile and continue. I smooth my fingers right along his cheekbone – Din gently circles his hand around my wrist, pressing his nose into my palm, then kissing it, soft, careful, dragging the tip of his nose along the line of the vein that trails over my arm.
Stars.
I blink hard again behind the green cloth, clenching my jaw down till my teeth grit together.
I feel along the jagged bridge of his nose, take note of how it’s slightly crooked to the right, like he’s broken it before (wouldn’t surprise me). I learn the shape of his brow, the broadness of his forehead. I feel the feather-light brush of his eyelashes against my wrist. I’m silent—and I’m grinning like an idiot, because what else can I do? It’s like I’m seeing his face. I’m not, but it’s sure as hell the closest thing. The weight of his head in my hands, the cautious squeeze of his hands on my arms. I whisper some kind of babbling, incoherent request, and he relaxes his eyes – I can feel the muscles in his face release tension – for me to trace my middle finger over the shape of his eye. I’m not crying, but, fuck, it’s getting a little moist up in this blindfold.
His eyes droop down slightly at the ends. I like eyes like that – kind eyes. My mother used to say these types of eyes only belonged to the kindest of people. Stars. Don’t cry.
“You look insane, mesh’la,” he whispers, close to me, lifting his hands to tenderly hold my face, like I might break.
“Ah, bantha shit, baby,” I retort. “You’re loving this.”
And I can feel him smile. I can feel it crinkle up the sides of his eyes, and I can feel the squint of them, and the way his cheeks lift. He smiles a little lop-sidedly, actually, the left corner of his mouth just a touch higher than the right. I try to memorise every single bit of information I discover, as urgent and as desperate as if my life depended upon it.
Quivering with want, I press my lips to the inner corner of his eye, firm and sure and needy, my hands grasping around his face. Din grabs fistfuls of my cloak, bringing me nearer to him.
He smells like dust and tastes like sweat and salt, but, Maker, this is good. Satisfies some deep, hellacious ache that would have otherwise consumed me.
I kiss the ridge of his cheekbone with the same fervour, and then I kiss the corner of his mouth, the left side, the side that quirks up when he smiles.
Only, he’s not really smiling right now. He’s breathing heavily, almost panting, and stroking my hair away from my face and neck before mumbling out, “So pretty.” I press my nose against his, breathless with anticipation, heady at the warmth of his body. “S’good. You look so good—like this. Y’look good all the time—”
But I’m kissing him already, frantic, fingers pressing into the back of his neck, into his shoulders, bringing him as near to me as humanly possible. I sob dryly as he reciprocates, nudging his nose flat against my cheek. He opens his mouth to suck in a breath, and I lick into him, taste him deeply, practically having climbed into his lap during my whirlwind pursuit. His cold hands slip under my cloak, arms wrapping around me in a second.
The kiss is dry and rough, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It seems befitting of him somehow.
And when he makes a pathetic sound, a whimper or something, at the back of his throat, I almost melt right into the ground.
Closer, closer, closer – that’s all I can really comprehend at the moment. Even with our bodies slotted together, even though I can feel each shaky breath he takes as his stomach flexes over my own, I feel hungry for more. It’s Din. My Din, kissing me, his hands on me, his eyes on me. My Din, grunting into me as I shift in his lap and squeeze my legs around him. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine—
He grabs my face gently by the chin, urging me away from him for a few moments. I sit there, blind, his open mouth still hovering over mine. Oh, stars, I think of the softness of his tongue, and I kiss the corner of his mouth, wanting, asking.
Din angles my face to the side, coming in slow, warm, and languidly slides his tongue into my hot mouth, breath fanning out across my glowing face. Maker. I can’t control myself – a helpless noise passes through me as I take it good and kiss him back, eager, wide open.
I guide his hand down the the base of my throat, just to feel his touch somewhere else. He squeezes there lightly.
His other hand manages to snake under my shirt, pressing flat across the small of my back, sliding up my spine and sending shivers all the way right through me.
It’s—good. Really good. Can’t-open-my-eyes-for-a-good-few-heartbeats type of good.
“Maker,” he curses hoarsely under his breath as I pull away, still leaning forward for me, chasing my touch.
“Good?” I ask him.
He presses a kiss to my cheek, smiling. “We can do this—more often—‘f you want.”
“If I want, huh?”
He kisses me deeply again, his thumb slotted beneath the cloth over my eyes. He pulls it taut to the side over so slightly, and I can make out that beautiful, warm glow over the sand and his armour again. I shut my eyes as he tilts my head up, though, as kisses down to the hollow of my throat and back up again.
I slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?” I just know it. Everything about him is just beautiful. It’s just lovely, and I love it.
“Marry me and you can find out for sure,” he mumbles into my neck.
I can hardly hear him, of course – blood is pounding so hard in my ears that all I can understand from his words are that they rumble deep right through his chest, warm under the cool beskar.
I lift his head and press my nose into his cheek. “I can tell,” I continue, words brushing his lips. Again, I smooth my fingers over his face. “You’re so pretty, Din.”
“Marry me,” he urges, whispering against the fabric over my eye, warm.
I grin. “Later.”
He curses, something in Mando’a. “We’re going to Takodana as soon as we get that damn ship, you hear me?”
154 notes · View notes
jamiesfootball · 8 months
Note
📓 give me a glimpse into ur mind
Let me tell you about the Greater Richmond Pet Acquisition (aka Give Jamie Tartt a Cat)
So it starts here with Jamie, having just joined the team again in season 2, and he is struggling. He basically blew up his life and its in pieces and he's having things that definitely are maybe panic attacks
He accidentally ends up befriending Higgins.
Higgins who back in season one through poor late Cindy Clawford's collar into the curse fire. Since then they've gotten a new cat (who i had the perfect name for but i can't find it in my drafts and my tagging is shit), and just like Higgins shows Jamie pictures of ducks and the memes his kids use that he doesn't understand, he also shows Jamie pictures of their cat.
So Christmas rolls around, yeah? And Jamie fucked up secret santa, and Higgins invites Jamie to his house for the team Christmas but that doesn't feel fair to the team
(and him and his mum are still on the outs, have been for years, and one of these days he's gonna be accountable but he's not so much of an asshole he's not so much like his dad that he'd just drop in on her unannounced at Christmas)
So he spends Christmas in Richmond alone with the bottle of champagne that he got at secret santa and it's brutal and he's lonely and he sees an ad on the telly for an animal shelter and decides screw it- I'm gonna get a cat. If I'm gonna be miserable and lonely like an old cat lady then I might as well have a cat.
So he goes to the shelter and he's thinking 'yeah i'll get a nice sleek cat one of those cool posh ones with the markings' and then he finds this ginormously rotund squash faced orange fat bastard and just. laughs.
His name is Big Ben and he's a surrender. His previous family up and moved, and they decided they didn't want him anymore. He came from a house with three kids (responsible for the kinda lame name) but no one ever really gave him any attention. He was kind of a nuisance. Always underfoot. Always yowling for attention. Too needy. They were a bit relieved to have an excuse to get rid of him to be honest.
Jamie is weirdly upset by this and can't pinpoint why. He gets the cat.
He gets a bunch of cat stuff - beds and toys and a robot litterbox that cleans itself - and he takes the cat home an he's like 'wait what the fuck did I just do?' Because he's never had a cat, or a dog, or any sort of creature relying on him to keep it safe. So he looks up Youtube videos on 'what to do when you've fucked up and bought a cat' and they're like 'well start them off in one room in the house' and Big Ben hates that.
It's a horrendous first few hours for both of them, Big Ben yowling at the top of his big unhappy cat lungs while Jamie is about to lose his goddamn mind, spiraling and on the verge of a panic attack because oh god he didn't just fuck up his own life now he's hurting this big giant fluffball cat the cat is crying fucking hell what do I do I can't call Higgins it's Christmas
So he breaks. He lets the cat out of the room and Big Ben barrels into his legs and starts purring. Loud. Like the loudest a creature has ever purred in its life. And he's looking up at Jamie with it's big green cat eyes and it's making little chirpy noises.
"You wanna hang out with me, buddy?" Jamie asks, and he feels stupid, talking to a cat, and Big Ben leans against his legs and-
-tiiiiiips over. Flops right over on Jamie's socks and looks up at him with his big adoring face like Jamie's the best thing that's ever happened to him.
Jamie could get used to someone looking at him like that.
62 notes · View notes