#i cannot believe they gave us the answer to the show in the first season
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Hey hey ✨ today I’m thinking about prison boyfriends I&M… do you have any headcanons about their time in prison?
Hi lovely! 🌸
I was thrilled to see this and I apologise for being late in answering you.
Life has been… a lot.
Which is actually a big part of my headcanon when it comes to Ian and Mickey in prison, so that works out nicely.
Firstly though, A) a wildly popular TV show shouldn’t glorify prison and depict it as funny and super chill or whatever else they may be aiming for; and B) I understand why the show chose to launch us into the ‘bickering roommates’ part of their relationship, and why they gave Ian an early release, and soon after that Mickey, to get them back on the show proper.
((I do NOT understand why we didn’t get to see - or if we had no time to film it then at least mention - the Gallaghers visiting them in prison. Yes, them. Both of them. Because they would! And sure, Mickey got out pretty quick after Ian got early release, but would it have killed them to give us even just one prison visit?? Urgh!!! Grrr!!! But I digress…))
So, bearing in mind the above caveats… every time Mickey and Ian found the tiniest shred of peace and quiet in their lives something came down on them like a ton of bricks. Mickey’s internalised homophobia, Juvie, Frank, Juvie again, Terry, Mickey’s Wedding, Ian’s Mental Health, Sammie, Monica… Life has been a lot.
The scene in which Ian asks Terry for prison advice, odd as it may be, seems fairly on point to me. It’s the boredom that will kill you. The day to day sets in. You read books. You lift weights. You have sex. But you’re in the same place with the same people doing the same stuff every second of every hour of every day of every year… and this is pretty much where we find our boys in season 10, and as I said above, I get it.
But before then? Still riding high on the reunion and the relief it brought? When all they had was each other and an endless stretch of time to fill? While going through a regimented daily routine? Not having to deal with the endless curveballs life throws at you every five seconds? When they knew pretty much exactly what was expected of them? When to get up, when to eat breakfast, when to start work, when to stop work, when to go outside, when to return to their cell…
I don’t want to glorify it. But I do believe when your life is as chaotic as theirs has always been, an enforced structure may not be the worst thing to ever happen to you. At least at first. And when you love each other as much as they love each other, staring at the time ahead of you just stretching onwards and onwards… may not be the most daunting thing. And when you’ve been through as much shit together as they have, going through all of it again, but in a controlled environment? Well, that may be a lot easier than what you’ve dealt with before.
I’m not saying it was all sunshine and roses. But what can prison throw at them that real life hasn’t already thrown at them, and worse? Yes, Ian’s going to have to adjust to new medication and deal with highs and lows, but they’ve done that before, except this time they’re forced together with nowhere to run, and they’re going to have to deal with it, for better or worse. Yes, Mickey’s going to have to voice his hurt and frustration and anger (Will you? Wait? / You never fucking visited me. / You ever think about me, when I was in the joint?), except this time they’re not running. They’re not trying to stay positive and act like everything is fine on their wild adventure. They’re going to have to deal with it, for better or worse. It’s not going to come easy at first and it will take time. But hey, they’re stuck. Together. They have nothing but time…
That’s it really. Them. Filling that time. Talking. Being together. Fighting. Crying. Growing. Learning and understanding each other, in a different way than before. Getting closer.
The problem with a TV show drama is that it cannot show you all the quiet moments in people’s lives, because where’s the drama in that? Which is how we end up with all of the Filler Fic being written for all the moments in between. The silliness and the laughter. The frustration and the tears. The thoroughly mundane. The nights where nothing really happens, But everything goes down… that’s my headcanon.
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Character Analysis: Tech—The Bad Batch, season 2:
His emotional turning point and what it means for Crosshair
Spoilers for The Bad Batch: season 2 (before season finale)
We all know Tech as a super genius. After all, that is his enhancement. We saw this especially emphasized in season 2, episode 4. He is quick thinking and quick acting. While this quick thinking was helpful and vital during the riot race, it can sometimes be his weakness.
As we saw in s2 e9, when Omega was upset about not getting back to the Marauder, Tech was very quick to ask Omega what her “issue” was. This moment of immediate response and not pausing to think about the effect his response would have on Omega shows us he has trouble with connecting emotionally to others. He processes the words said, then responds quickly, without much consideration for emotions in play. However, later in the episode, during his deep discussion with Omega, he experiences an important lesson on pausing and thinking about not only the words said, but also the emotions expressed.
I loved this moment between Tech and Omega. Granted, I love any bonding moments Omega has with her brothers, but the ones with Tech have been rare, and I really enjoyed this deep moment between them. At first, when Omega expressed concerns that she had, Tech responded quickly and with logic. His answers were not bad answers, and he tried to bring solace to her concerns. However, Omega was not in the mood to talk logic. She was in pain, and she needed Tech to sympathize. It wasn’t until she mentioned being more than soldiers, and acting like a family that Tech really started to listen, not just with his ears, but with his heart. Tech finally paused before responding. He truly thought about the emotions in the moment—both his and Omega’s. He understood that his response should express what he was feeling and be considerate toward what Omega was feeling. This emotion from Tech helped Omega understand Tech more, and finally find some comfort. In this moment, Tech opened himself up to understanding not just her thoughts, but also her emotions.
I feel this was an important stepping stone in Tech’s development. From this point on, I feel that he will be more aware of not just data that is around him, but emotions as well. We can see this at the end of s2 e10. After the incident with Mokko and the miners, Tech noticed that something was on Omega’s mind. Now it was obvious she was thinking about something, but Tech noticed it must have been something more than a passing thought. After expressing her concern about the threat of not just the Empire, but of people like Mokko, Tech gave a statement of understanding, then ended it with a thought of encouragement.
Now, to talk about the wampa in the room—s2 e13 and Tech finally catching on to Phee’s flirtations. To be honest, I cannot really give an opinion on the possibility of a relationship between the two. I am not against it, nor am I super excited about it. If it happens, okay, that’s fine. If it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be heartbroken about it. However, I will say that the flirtations going on in the episode are significant in showing us, the audience, just how much Tech has developed. In the first episode of the season, Phee called Tech “Brown Eyes” in an obviously flirtatious way. However, Tech did not seem to register that she was flirting. He just acknowledged she was addressing him. In episode 13 when she called him “Brown Eyes” again, this time Tech’s eyes widened with realization. I believe it was just then that he caught on that she has been flirting this whole time. After that, throughout the episode, there are a few exchanges between them, and Tech seems to be more open to her. Tech is noticing the emotions behind the words. Whether or not something actually happens between Tech and Phee, I feel that their interactions in episode 13 are significant in showing us this change in Tech, the change that was triggered by that deep conversation he had with Omega.
What does this mean for the future? How is this emotionally open change important? Well, Tech now will have the ability to not only understand people logically, but also sympathize with them emotionally. He will listen with both his ears and heart. I feel this will be very important when it comes to Crosshair. In the final episode of season 1, Tech made the comment to Crosshair, “Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.” Tech already understands Crosshair’s mental logic, but he has not yet come to understand the emotions behind his choices. I feel that with this new development in Tech, whenever they find Crosshair, however they try to help him, Tech will be more sympathetic toward Crosshair. Now this sympathy will not make him “agree” with Crosshair’s past choices, but it will help him be able to understand him even more. I feel that Tech’s new openness to noticing others’ emotions will also help him recognize sincerity from Crosshair whenever he chooses to return to Clone Force 99. In last week’s episode—s2 e14—Hunter is skeptical about the message from Crosshair. I feel that in the season 2 finally this Wednesday, Tech will end up being the convincing voice to trust Crosshair. Not that he can feel emotion through a message, but whenever they once again come face to face with Crosshair, Tech will feel the sincerity behind whatever Crosshair will have to say to his brothers. He will listen with his heart and help Hunter to as well.
In the end, I don’t know if this means that Tech will be the future listening ear for Crosshair if he ever needs to rant, or if it means that Tech will ultimately sacrifice himself to save Crosshair. Whatever the case, I feel that this new character development in Tech is vital to his relationship with all his brothers and sister, but most especially to Crosshair.
#the bad batch#TBB#season 2#tech#clone trooper tech#omega#crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#phee#character analysis#character development#bonding#emotions#brown eyes#star wars#fan art
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House of the Dragon tag game!
This was created by the lovely @jotterjots 💜 Thank you for the tag!
Rules: Answer the following questions, then tag any and all people you think might enjoy participating.
Tags: If you see this on your Tumblr dashboard, consider yourselves tagged.
see original post here if you want to play :)
Who's your favorite character? What draws you to them?
My initial response is Aemond Targaryen (surprise, surprise). The book and show portrayal have some similarities, but I really loved how Leo Ashton and Ewan Mitchell’s characterization. There was something relating to how Leo carried himself, Aemond just weary but ready to defend Aegon, how he was ridiculed. You have this sense of relief when he finally claims Vhagar that you forget the implications until that group of cunt ass kids rallied against him. Then you see that want for revenge, how it shapes and molds him into this man that is just...
Sigh. 💜
Anyway, after him it would Ser Criston Cole, as this man is so damn petty with his hatred it halted his aging and I’m here for it.
What's your favorite episode of the season?
I loved the despair of episode 8, where we finally got to see the key players for what was to come. The build up, the tension that lead to this brief moment of serenity and then... the dinner scene, where it just went downhill so fucking fast.
What is your favorite line from the season?
I have two. The first belongs to Daemon: “You cannot live your life in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it.”
And second is to Jerrel Bracken, and it makes me giggle: “The princess has a dragon, you dumb cunt.”
Which actor's portrayal is your favorite?
Of course the obvious answer is Ewan Mitchell. I binged everything he has been in and really enjoy that even though he had similar mannerisms used in each roll, he seems to adjust to fit whatever character he is playing and I think it’s fucking brilliant.
Matt Smith plays a cunt like no other. As much as Daemon makes my skin crawl, I do enjoy watching him.
Olivia Cooke. 💜 Watching Alicent’s transition from the tepid daddy’s girl to girlboss was amazing. She believed in her convictions and squared off to Otto, to her husband, and we saw glimpses of how she played the Game of Thrones, and I really loved it.
Which character would you most want to be stuck on a deserted island with?
I mean...
But for real, probably Ser Criston as he seems low key a more practical option, as I could trust him to be able to scrounge for food, kill whatever wild hog might attack, things like that.
Name a minor character you want to know more about!
I would love more insight on Arryk and Erryk OR, since they kept him alive, if Ser Harrold Westerling came back in a blaze of glory, that’d be nifty.
Who's character arc are you most interested to see continued, for better or worse?
May the gods pity me, but Aemond. I am curious their interpretation of his story and am super excited to see it unfold.
Who's your most anticipated new character of Season 2?
Cregan Stark, but this is mostly because of my Mushroom theory of him, but I already know HBO is a bunch of cowards and would never.
And Nettles 💜 I really hope they show how she gets her dragon.
Which is your favorite dragons of the ones we saw?
Vhagar.
I hate that we missed out on some Fire & Blood bonding between Aemond and this she-dragon, but I really loved how they showed the sentient side when she was bonded to Laena. It was beautiful and heartbreaking 💜
What's your favorite relationship from this season? (romantic, platonic, antagonistic- whichever!)
I loved Rhaenyra and Harwin Strong. I really loved the snippets of him knitted throughout, his admiration for Rhaenyra just as she was. There was also so much in the scene after she gave birth, how he was quick to help in any he could, just to be able to touch her, to be there for her. And when he held Joffrey?
Like, goddamn, I love this man so much 😭
Bonus- Fandom appreciation:
Link one or more of your favorite pieces of fanart! (Have you reblogged it already? Consider reblogging it again! Do NOT repost)
Please go and look/follow @lonnson @4yvle1 @azperja @cyeco13 Just amazing, talented, wonderful pieces they have shared.💜
Link one or more of your favorite fics! (Same deal as above!)
I have a fic recs link on my blog.💜 I also have a series called Interview With a Writer where I get to talk to the talented brains that created some of the best pieces I have found (so far) on Tumblr.
Link one or more of your favorite gifsets! (^^Same)
The talented Miranda (@aegonx) who did this and this and this gifset that I love (just to name a few, but she is so creative and talented; her gifsets for this fandom are some of my favorites. She did a GoT request for Rhaegar and Lyanna, and I just love it so much!💜
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All The Things I love About Shadow and Bone Season 2
I am here today to give you a Tumblr classic list post about my new favorite thing Shadow and Bone Season 2. You might say “but they deviated from the source material so far” and “it was rushed” and “how are they going to move on from everyone being in the wrong place” and to that, I have a series of answers. Naturally, SPOILERS are below.
First, the season was based on books two and three of the shadow and bone series and Crooked Kingdom as well as some new stuff thrown in to make the Crows and the SOB stuff combine. I think they did a good job of exploring specific character backgrounds and trauma for the Crows (with the assumption that the aspects that were missing will be in Season 3). In my opinion, they fixed the problems I had with SOB primarily by making both Alina and Mal reasonable characters that I want to root for. My guess is they are setting up an Alina and Mal reunite plotline that will coincide with Nikolai and Zoya developing their relationship. The ending sets us up for the main plot of Six of Crows and King of Scars and so I think the pirate ship will return, but not before dropping off Inej in the barrel because she is needed for a job with the Crows. Now, I assume Matthias will die at the end of Season 3 so Nina is set up for the rest of the King of Scars plotline so we will have to prepare for that. With the early death of you know who, these things might just happen. I think the show did a great job setting us up for a new season and I support all the changes so, without further ado, here is what I loved.
1. Jesper and Waylan are perfect. I love their new relationship timeline and the actors have such good chemistry. I think the internet agrees that Waylan is perfectly written and cast and is so good at his job. I don’t mind the absence of a slow burn there and was a big fan of the butterfly scene. Also, the costume department knows how to dress them both and to whoever made the skirt choice thank you sincerely.
2. Matthias in prison did a great job extending the angst of being wrongly convicted that we just did not see in the books. Also, those flashbacks to Nina are golden and I cannot wait for him to be freed and meet the rest of the Crows.
3. Kazzle Dazzle is really giving book Kaz and I love him. I really did not think they would cast a child actor to reenact his backstory because that is a lot to ask for a child to do with a level of believability but they got every detail. What a great casting choice there. Then we have a thorough examination of his trauma and vendetta against Rollins. Those fight scenes were perfect and I loved every side-eye in the show.
4. Inej and Kaz moments were all here. We got a lot of their iconic scenes but not all of them and you bet I am waiting for season 3 to see where they develop things. So many times Kaz gave the “well obviously I’m in love with you” body language that accompanied something unhinged like firing her from the Crows to keep her safe. These actors understood the assignment. I love them and need more please and thank you.
5. Nina is my favorite. I can’t wait for her and Matthias to get together but she is still excellent and she at least got to eat waffles in this season so that’s something.
6. I am hoarding all the Nikolai and Zoya scenes but I do love what they got as individuals. Nikolai is a wonderful example of casting gone right. Perfect as both a second son and a chaotic pirate. Just yes.
7. Alina is so much better in the show. It needs to be acknowledged. Also, great scenes with her and Mal. Small amounts of resentment between them because of her power is unfortunately book accurate, but it was more reasonable in the show if I’m honest. I also think her ending was interesting. I know we see her smiling at the end after the murder happens but honestly I don’t think that is an immediate red flag for her being a villain. She did prevent the deaths of everyone around her and they can do whatever they want with her next season. I think they will resolve it halfway through the next season honestly.
8. Last for now, the addition of the sword heist was excellent. It did a lot to flesh out the rest of the world prior to the Six of Crows plot. I was also a big fan of the drug-based character development. Plus, it gave Waylan a chance to save the day. I like how it gave Nina and Zoya a chance to resolve their disagreements about leaving the army. It also gave us a Inej saves Kaz scene that was really important. It never existed in the books and was a great addition to the show. Big fan.
So I loved basically everything and I for sure missed some but here is my current list. I am really banking on the Tumblr gifsets and Tiktok fan edits to see me through (free idea for someone to do an edit of any of the crows but mostly Matthias to hozier’s eat your young please). Now I am waiting for an announcement where hopefully we are given a Season 3. Nothing is guaranteed these days but I love delusionally manifesting more content for the things I am invested in.
#All The Things I love About Shadow and Bone Season 2#Shadow and Bone Season 2#SOB#six of crows#leigh bardugo#Shadow and Bone spoilers#Shadow and Bone#please give me a season 3#I need it
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Okay so I saw you answer an ask about Bobby treating/viewing Hen as a peer more so than any other FireFam character we’ve seen, and it was beautiful, so I’m wondering if you have thoughts on Maddie raising Buck.
It’s mentioned by Buck and Eddie that Maddie was the one to raise him, (Maddie references it indirectly when she’s talking to Bobby and Athena-I can’t remember the exact quote, but they’d just saved the impromptu kidnapped via illegal C-Section baby and her mother-and in response to a comment about raising someone for 18 years Maddie replies “18? Buck’s 28 and I still feel like I have my hands full”-It also says a lot that there’s no visible reaction (that I remember anyways) from Bobby or Athena after that statement) and it was shown verbatim in the Buck Begins flashbacks, but one of my favorite scenes where this plays out in their present day as adults is shortly after her return in Season 5B, when Buck confessed to her about “asking Taylor to move in with me was the second stupid thing I did recently” and obviously there’s talk about his trauma from being left behind, but what sticks out to me is the look on her face/tone of voice/her body language, and BUCK’S response to Maddie asking “What was the first (stupid thing you did)?”
That wasn’t a woman asking her younger (but still adult) brother what he did, it’s not how I would ask my younger brother what stupid thing he did, it was very much a MOTHER’S way of asking her SON what stupid thing he did, and Buck’s response was very much a (I don’t want Mom to know but she’s gonna figure it out and I can’t lie to her) sort of thing and I LOVE that 9-1-1 showed us that and I hope they continue to give us little insights into their relationship like this and I would really appreciate your thoughts on this, and on their relationship in general.
So sorry for the long ass ask!
Okay, firstly, sorry it took me so long to answer this, but rl is so crazy and this is such an important topic of the show and I wanted to make sure I could give time to answer it!
no need to apologize for the long ass ask, because I will provide a long ass answer *blows kiss*
Let me start off by saying that the best thing this show ever did, my FAVORITE thing this show ever did, was introduce Maddie in s2, giving Buck a family and providing such beautiful and expansive depth to his character. s1 owns my heart, and it always will, but there was just something missing for Buck's character for me, and Maddie took the show to a whole new level. Literally cannot believe 9-1-1 ever existed without her in it.
Maddie is a wonderfully complex character. I have ALL the thoughts on Maddie raising Buck, because she did, no two ways around it. He is her little brother but it's more than that. I think in one episode she implies she changed his diapers and gave him baths. I mean, she was there from the beginning, because she had to be, because she knew the truth of his existence. There is as much tragedy in this as there is beauty.
The thing is, Maddie's story could have gone differently. She could have grown to resent Buck. She could have gotten lost in her own grief. She could have sought any way to escape her family and cut ties so she wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. Because, let's face it, Maddie had to grow up fast and early. We find out she suffered from depression from an extremely young age. She had no support system, no parental affirmation or guidance, and then we see the open chasm in her life where the love was supposed to go get filled by Doug. Maddie did the best she could to make sure that didn't happen to Buck. She saw the same gaping chasm in her brother and always, always tried to make sure she could fill it with her own love, the kind he'd never get from his parents.
Maddie and Buck may be grown now but that dynamic doesn't go away. When they had the conversation in Buck's loft where he was like "Jee isn't the first kid you've raised, that was me," OH that hit me square in the chest, because she needed to hear that. I'm sure she considers that time of her life to largely be a failure on her part, and she doesn't always recognize how crucial she was to Buck turning out the way he did, still so loving and kind and hopeful. I think she finally got it in that moment. It was beautiful.
The show has definitely given us some amazing moments, and I do hope they continue to highlight the importance of their relationship, even as they start to build their own family units separate from each other. They will always be there for each other no matter what, they will always have each other's backs no matter what happens (and I mean NO MATTER WHAT, I don't think there is anything Buck could do that Maddie wouldn't try to help him with/out of, and vice versa).
Exquisite ask, thank you so much! I haven't gotten a chance to exercise my meta skills in a while, hope I'm not too out of practice!
xoxoxo
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The Owl house season 3, and what I need to see part C
The owl house is entering its third and final season. Season 3 will consist of three 44 minute specials (I think. I heard a rumor that fan outrage forced Disney to lengthen the specials to 55minutes). Season 2 ended with the characters kinda spilt into three groups. Luz and her friends henceforth called "The Hexside gang" are trapped in the human realm. The adult CATTs members are back home on the boiling isles out of one apocalypse and straight into another, and King is trapped as the collectors playmate in what ever "owl house" he has made. I am imagining that each special will follow one of these three groups adventures as they all try to reunite.
Here is what I need to see with King and the Collector
Okay first off just like how I said that the “Hexside Gang” better still have their palismen with them, King better still have his bunny. Preferably the when the collector rearranged the isles the collected all of King’s stuffed toys and gave them back to his new “friend”. If that cannot happen King better at least have Francois. Mama and Big Sis went through so much to get Francois back for King.
Also I want King to have bandages on his head, or The Collector to comment something about King’s skull healing so now they do not have to take playing easy... King hurt it pretty bad during the crash in King’s tide, and I need for continuity to address that.
King will not, and honestly should not, like being with the collector at first. Let King want to go home, want to be with his mother, and want to see his sister again. But he cannot, because this annoying brat is forcing him to “stay and play”
Have King say to himself that he wonders how his Dad found and put up with the collector so long ago. Then of course I want a flash back to just that
Do have King and the collector playing, and using their God powers, which gets destructive (little boys ARE wild and destructive during play). The collector keeps changing shape and warping and bending the isles. King gets in stuff he shouldn’t, can shatter stone with his sonic call, and I want him to get a new titan power (possibly to grow wings).
I need more of the back story as to King’s dad. Like between “Edge Of The World” and “Oh Titan Where Art Though” I said that the boiling isles Titan couldn’t be King’s dad (and I made a post theorizing that The Owl Beast was Kings dad in a different form) because it has been a skeleton for several centuries/ a millennium, and King is only a little boy. Then the show says that King is in fact the son of that Particular titan. Well that Raises a ton of questions:
How long to titans live? How long do they incubate? Do the actually live long enough to raise their children, or do they always die before their young hatch? How did King’s dad trap the collector “Beneath these bones” if he is the titan that the collector was trapped beneath the bones of?... Did he... eat him?
Find someway to answer all these questions believably, or have the collector say that that Titan is not Kings dad (maybe his great grandfather), laugh at how old that would mean King is, and that Kings actual dad is....
I do want the owl beast and The Collectors relationship explained at some point...once again the owl beast could be a titan, and related to King somehow, even if not is father. If it’s a part of Eda, it’s already a part of his family
At some point have the titan trappers show up again and try to kill King. The Collector saves him. He yells “Stay away from my friend” and then makes them all go bye-bye. Kings asks him why he did that, if the collector is “The Great Huntsman” doesn’t that mean he hates the Titans and wants them slayed.
The collector then tells King that he used to play a game with the Titan who found him where they would chase each other down, catch each other, then let the other go and trade roles. Once when The Collector was the hunter he met a group of witches, explained the game to them, and asked them for help. When the titan learned what the collector did they trapped him in the prison and refused to let him go.
Its possible the collector has escaped a few times and been resealed by different titans. We all saw the broken bits circling around his pokeball prison.
Address if the collector actually understands concepts like death, and understood that the titan trappers were killing titans and Belos wanted to kill the witches. I am hoping he does not understand and thought that everybody would just get back up and keep playing (It happened with the grim walkers, right? Them dying was just them restarting the game?)
King thinks over what collector did and told him. Maybe The Collector isn’t evil after all. Maybe they are just a confused kid who was tricked and used by bad adults. Maybe...maybe if King can find away to explain the importance of rules, boundaries, and safety during play to the collector then they won’t be a threat anymore, and the two can actually be friends.
King and the collector are reunited with everyone else.
Now I see The Collector’s story ending 1 of three ways.
1.) King and the others try to teach the collector the importance of self control and not to hurt others in their games, but the collector does not listen. They dismiss it all as boring rules, and insist they will play however they please, and get mad that anyone would dare try to tell them not to. This results in them having to be sealed away again. If this happens, okay not every villain needs to be redeemed. Just lock whatever is slimy thing is left of Belos up too. Have The Collector say to Belos that “At least we still have our original plan of playing together forever. This time I will pick the game!” Slime Belos gulps.
2.) King and the others successfully teach the collector about self control and how to play/express themself without hurting others. The Collector then join the found family...I have thought a lot about who would be the best parent figure for them. Eda is a great mom, but she already has kids who need her and take up a lot of her attention, so her taking a third one could strain her to much. I said this as a reason she shouldn’t take Hunter, and it is still true with the collector. Camila, Alador, maybe Raine are all in the same boat. Lilith is a great aunt, but she doesn’t seem to want to be mother too, that would give her much less time to research ancient history. Daruis seems like the type who would be good with teenagers but not little kids, plus I do not want Hunter to have to share Darius with another kid so quickly. Gwen&Dell or Bump might be good, but they are all elders at this point and the collector will still be a kid when they pass on... actually considering that the collector is implied to have been a child for centeries that will be true for all the witches, as is that they are 100 times more powerful. After careful analysis of potential parent figures...
Hooty should be the adult that adopts The collector, if The Collector gets adopted into the found family! Hooty is perfect. He has a demon life span, longer than a which or humans. He is super powerful and could handle magical tantrums. We know Hooty has tons of experience taking care of troubled residence in the owl house. Hooty. Hooty is forgiving, super sweet, and loves to play games. He has struggled with loneliness before and knows what it feels like. He helped Lilith get her life back on tack after she left Belos, and Dana tweeted that she originally planed for Hooty to help Hunter too but had to scrap their relationship for time. Hooty is officially a life coach for people recovering from Belos’s abuse, and that includes The Collector. Also since Eda and Hooty live together and Hooty has referred to himself as King’s uncle, then King and the collector could still play together and be cousins. Even if he gets adopted by someone else I would like one pick of them with Hooty at some point.
3.) King and the Collector become friends and King refuses to reseal his new friend. But The collector does not understand self control enough to live peacefully on the isles with everyone else, and it turns out they miss their old home among the stars. So King convinces them to go back to their old home, promising that they will see each other again. We know that King will outlive Eda, Luz, and their friends, and if he is a titan he will one day become to big to live and interact with them. So maybe the collector could come back when that happens. King could travel with him and they could keep each other company.
We have the standard end, the sweet end, and then a kinda bitter sweet end. I will except any of the three.
P.s. I made none of these three post with spoliers or leaks in mind. I have been doing my best to avoid those. I like the twists and surprises that Dana and her crew throw into the owl house, and I want to go into the final season blind so that I can keep being surprised by them. If you have/know any spoliers or leaks please keep them to yourself. Thank you
#the owl house#TOH#TOH season 3#Titan king clawthorne#toh collector#the collector#TOH Colli#that's what some of the fandom are calling him right#The titan#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#edalyn clawthorne#emperor belos#phillip wittebane#the titan trappers#toh Tarak#TOH Bill#Hooty#Grim walkers#lilith clawthorne#The owl family#Toh The titan#The Boiling isles#Lumity#Reda#TOH Francois#TOH King's Bunny#raine whispers#king clawthorne
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This was sent by @nothingtherefornow and I didn't have to post it but they put so much effort to write all this that it would be wrong to leave it in my inbox because it's well thought and I'll write my own comments in the end:
Answer to your reply about Marinette's friends behavior in season 5 (according to the bible)
Sorry for this late reply to the answer you gave me about my last question to you reguarding Marinette’s friends in season 5 according to the bible, I was in a place where there’s wasn’t any Wi-fi ^^’
I'm using the "billet" thing (french one sorry ^^') because as I'm still clumsy and new with tumblr, so I don't know how to send you the long answer I've concocted otherwise. If I haven't respected some rules with this billet let me know
I'm putting the SPOILERS alert in case !
So it was true, Kagami will believe Lila’s lies over Marinette T_T I never thought I would be so dissapointed in Kagami’s character before this, I honestly thought she was better than that. As someone who is not even friend with Lila and recognized her a liar and a rival for Adrien's love when she was akumatized in Oni-chan, I though Kagami would be smarter than Marinette’s other friends about Lila tricks, but I guess I was wrong. This is such a waste of Kagami’s character, because if she would rather believe a stranger’s words over Marinette whom she’s supposed to be friend with (and apparently has strong feeling for, according to the bible) then that means she was never truly Marinette’s friend to begin with, that Marinette’s trust friendship was never fully reciprocated.
I really though that other than being the second love interests of the main characters, Kagami and Luka were destined to become Adrien and Marinette greatest allies, but if the season 5 bible is not a scam, then my hopes about those two characters were misplaced. There’s still some hope left for Luka’s character because I heard that he would be out of the picture after the first half of season 5 probably because as someone who know both Chat Noir and Ladybug’s secret identities, it’s too risky to keep him in Paris. But if Kagami doesn’t ever realize at some point during season 5 that she fucked up reguarding her friendship with Marinette, and if she doesn’t feel regret nor sincerely apologize because of it, I will consider her character to be definitelly ruined by the show.
I asked the same question to a lot of people I know, and they all answered the same thing : If your supposed friends would rather believe the words of someone they barely know over your words, then they are not your friends.
About Marinette’s classmates chosing Lila over her as the new class president, I guess it really depends of the context. If it’s because Bustier decided that they had to change class president for reasons, and Lila’s program just charmed her classmates more than Marinette’s program, then I guess I cannot blame them for this. But as someone who experienced french school, I know that the class president stays the same for the whole year unless they give up their position as class president. And since Marinette and Adrien class is still the same since season 1, either Marinette chose to delegate her class president responsabilities because she’s not managing those well with her Ladybug’s duties, or her classmates decided Marinette was not fit anymore to be class president and chose to replace her with Lila (who apparently will chose Chloé as her assistant 0_0 ? ) and if the last option is the canon one, then yeah, Marinette’s classmates will once again dissapoint me, and the serie too. Because while I get that friends can make mistakes and not always behave as good friends, what’s the point if they never recognize nor acknowledge where they failed as friends ? Wha’st the point of portaying Marinette’s classmates as good friends if everytime Lila is involved they suddenly let Marinette down and doesn’t reciprocate the trust she gives them ? I would lie if I said I wasn’t entertained when a main character suffers and still overcome their struggles, but I’m not watching Miraculous Ladybug to see its female protagonist being the punching bag and scapegoat of its own serie and its fandom.
About the similar experience to Marinette’s that you went through, I’m glad that you had a teacher who defended you when that classmate of your lied about you (that teacher have all my respect ! we know that Miss Bustier would never do something like that for Marinette) and that you found the right word to convince your mother to hear your side of the story when your cousin lied about you. But because I never went through those kind of situation before I really don’t know if my opinion is valid or not. I am very fortunate that my parent would always hear my side of the story first before beleiving anything bad said about me, to have all my cousins being good people, and to have had a good school experience. I always shared my class with my twin sister (whom I’m very close to) since elementary school to high school, and she was always popular enough for others to not try to go farther that some mockeries (everyone apparently knew my name but there’s a lot of them I didn’t even know), and they stopped making fun of me once I started fighting back. But friends and family once said to me that as an autistic person, if I hadn’t had my sister with me, or my parents who would actively defend me against any injustice, there a high chance that I would have been more victim of bullying. So when I compare my situation to Marinette’s, I always feel like she deserves so much better, because if I could have it all then why can’t she ?
Sorry for this very long rant and comment I guess I really need to talk this out with others understanding fans
*********************************
Now me:
I don't want to write more about this because I really don't know, we don't know how this will happen and if this will actually happen, there are possibilities of changes in the script and such. It sounds too discouraging to think Lila would take Marinette's place as the class president, I wish that doesn't happen, because it has to happen if the class votes for her and I don't understand why would more people vote for her over Marinette and even pick Chloé too because they voted for Marinette to replace Chloé in the first place. I really don't see the reason for this. In my school we voted every year I think. I wouldn't like that, not only for Marinette to lose that position but for Lila not to gain the position and more power over other students. The more I dive into the bible the more it feels like a fanfiction Lila wrote. I thought season 4 was bad to Marinette, but this one sounds like she's paying for every sin her ancestors have committed.
#submission#miraculous ladybug#ml bible leak#ml bible spoilers#marinette dupain cheng#Ml class#Lila rossi#Ml season 5#Ml analysis
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I see no one wants to talk about the last photo on Roberto's Instagram. But let's speculate for a bit. I have very bad and very good thoughts about it, as always with this show. This was originally supposed to be a joke post about JT being forced as usual without any emotional investment. And here we must believe that they are two passionate lovers (as if these two know that sex exists) who hold on to each other in anticipation of the Great Death of All Living Things. And then my thoughts went further and I was not at all up to fun.
Have you seen the photo I'm talking about? Let's start with a joke. What are the chances that these two will kiss at that moment? Lol. They certainly tend to zero, although anything can happen. But this important moment, of course, cannot be done without pissing off the fans. Ted wouldn't be Ted without it. After all, they've been doing it all season. Why not do it one last time? So I wanted to make a joke about what Bughead moment will they steal for this big moment of Riverdale's driest couple?
And then I got really scared.
They stole Bughead's first ILY, they stole Bughead's kiss in front of a burning trailer, they stole one of the most sensual "Do you believe me?" moment. They gave the drama of Betty's relationship with her parents to Tabitha in 5-18, making up the story in five seconds. I think if we start looking more closely, we'll find more of these thefts. But these are the biggest and most significant moments in Bughead's history. However, this is not all. There are a couple more.
I really don't think they'll steal Bughead's first kiss. But they have something just as powerful. One of the most powerful, meaningful and magical moments between these two. Do you already understand what I'm talking about?
Seventeen.
Before I got to that point, I also wanted to joke about how Jughead and Tabitha might be singing at this moment. And this is where my guess started. We know that they will all be singing in this episode. In fact, the song can fit the plot well at the moment when the Comet destroys them all. But I never believed that Drew's video of Seventeen meant more than bullying shippers. But what if it really was a spoiler, but not in the way we thought. Yes, they do not return in 5-17, but judging by the leaks, they return at the age of 17, "in simpler times".
Will they really sing Seventeen? Will they make us look at JT ridiculously copying one of Bughead's most iconic moments? Fuck. What kind of assholes they are!
Does anyone know how the music license works in a TV show? Can they really use this song a second time?
I do not know what to think. On the one hand, if my guesses are true, it will be hurt AF and betrayal. On the other hand, this will only prove once again that the entire s6 is a farce and we will definitely get the reunion that we are waiting for.
I want to say that Ted has a very perverted idea of drama. These are not characters who go through emotions and deal with the consequences. It's "come on the show and wreck everything without giving any explanation for it in 24 episodes". And now we are left without a single answer to the questions of season 6 for another half a year.
#riverdale negativity#riverdale spoilers#anti j*bitha#riverdale writers negativity#ted negativity#ras negativity#riverdale speculation
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okay so i know i disagree with the Entire Rest Of The Fandom Except Nyquildriver, Apparently, on a lot of stuff, but this does still feel a bit like sacrilege to say, but i’ve been thinking it for over a year now:
i do love the concept and a lot of the individual bits are great, but honestly i didn’t think chat blanc was like, super well-written—the concept is great but the execution was lacking—but not for the reasons i’ve seen anyone else argue. the problems i’ve seen other people have with chat blanc were all down to characterization (of marinette and/or of her parents, mostly) and that all worked totally fine for me.
the problem i have with chat blanc is the way the time travel/flashbacks are handled—having bunnyx frantically flipping back and forth between the chat blanc/ladybug conflict & the how-we-got-here just feels contrived, like if the solution here is having ladybug deakumatize chat blanc then why does it matter what happened, why are you so desperate to find the answers, and if it does matter that much and bunnyx does need to know, then… why doesn’t she do anything with the information
but then there’s also all this focus on “oh she has to find the akuma so she can fix everything!!!!” but surprise that didn’t fix everything and actually now you have to go back in time and avert this whole timeline so actually you could’ve dipped on the fight ten minutes ago and gone back to erase the name as soon as you found out he knows who you are and everything that’s happened since was totally pointless
and while i think that could have been done well—you thought everything was fixed but SURPRISE OH NO—it actually just felt anticlimactic? and the “actually this whole fight was pointless bc she’s erasing this bit of the timeline” could’ve been really poignant—she knows she should just leave and fix things before the timestream breaks down but she can’t bear to leave chat noir like this even in a future she wants to prevent from happening in the first place—but again, as it stood it just felt pointless
like, the problem with how marinette is written in this episode isn’t about characterization, it’s about agency. between dropping off the hat and erasing her name, nothing she does actually matters or drives the plot, and basically ditto bunnyx; she’s great in theory but doesn’t actually do anything that like, a random time portal marinette accidentally trips through couldn’t have done.
and i feel like i’m making it sound like i don’t like the episode, and that’s not even true!! i cannot possibly overstate how much i love the idea of it, i’m all about time travel and alternate timelines if they’re handled well, and i have happily eaten up every temporary identity reveal the show has given us and hoped for more! to borrow a description from nyquildriver,
it honestly does feel like all its impact on the story is to give marinette some PTSD "gotcha, can't fall in love with chat noir, okay"
and i am just fine with the actual plot impact going forward being "marinette has PTSD around the idea of falling in love with chat noir now," [kicks a non-trivial amount of my ao3 history under the bed], so at the end of the day i’m still really grateful that chat blanc is an episode that exists, but i’ve never been able to watch it without thinking the whole time that they had all the pieces of a top-tier episode and put them together clunkily enough it’s actually just kind of okay.
which is WILD because holy shit what a concept. like even from years in the future when we’re a couple episodes from the end of season five i still can’t believe that’s actually a real episode they gave us. i wish it were more than the sum of its parts but what parts
#miraculous ladybug#ml s3#chat blanc#marinette dupain cheng#bunnyx#ml: 3x22#character: marinette dupain-cheng#character: ladybug#character: bunnyx
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Thomas Paine
Paris, May 12, 1797
In your letter of the twentieth of March, you give me several quotations from the Bible, which you call the Word of God, to show me that my opinions on religion are wrong, and I could give you as many, from the same book to show that yours are not right; consequently, then, the Bible decides nothing, because it decides any way, and every way, one chooses to make it.
But by what authority do you call the Bible the Word of God? for this is the first point to be settled. It is not your calling it so that makes it so, any more than the Mahometans calling the Koran the Word of God makes the Koran to be so. The Popish Councils of Nice and Laodicea, about 350 years after the time the person called Jesus Christ is said to have lived, voted the books that now compose what is called the New Testament to be the Word of God. This was done by yeas and nays, as we now vote a law.
The Pharisees of the second temple, after the Jews returned from captivity in Babylon, did the same by the books that now compose the Old Testament, and this is all the authority there is, which to me is no authority at all. I am as capable of judging for myself as they were, and I think more so, because, as they made a living by their religion, they had a self-interest in the vote they gave.
You may have an opinion that a man is inspired, but you cannot prove it, nor can you have any proof of it yourself, because you cannot see into his mind in order to know how he comes by his thoughts; and the same is the case with the word revelation. There can be no evidence of such a thing, for you can no more prove revelation than you can prove what another man dreams of, neither can he prove it himself.
It is often said in the Bible that God spake unto Moses, but how do you know that God spake unto Moses? Because, you will say, the Bible says so. The Koran says, that God spake unto Mahomet, do you believe that too? No.
Why not? Because, you will say, you do not believe it; and so because you do, and because you don't is all the reason you can give for believing or disbelieving except that you will say that Mahomet was an impostor. And how do you know Moses was not an impostor?
For my own part, I believe that all are impostors who pretend to hold verbal communication with the Deity. It is the way by which the world has been imposed upon; but if you think otherwise you have the same right to your opinion that I have to mine, and must answer for it in the same manner. But all this does not settle the point, whether the Bible be the Word of God, or not. It is therefore necessary to go a step further. The case then is: -
You form your opinion of God from the account given of Him in the Bible; and I form my opinion of the Bible from the wisdom and goodness of God manifested in the structure of the universe, and in all works of creation. The result in these two cases will be, that you, by taking the Bible for your standard, will have a bad opinion of God; and I, by taking God for my standard, shall have a bad opinion of the Bible.
The Bible represents God to be a changeable, passionate, vindictive being; making a world and then drowning it, afterwards repenting of what he had done, and promising not to do so again. Setting one nation to cut the throats of another, and stopping the course of the sun till the butchery should be done. But the works of God in the creation preach to us another doctrine. In that vast volume we see nothing to give us the idea of a changeable, passionate, vindictive God; everything we there behold impresses us with a contrary idea - that of unchangeableness and of eternal order, harmony, and goodness.
The sun and the seasons return at their appointed time, and everything in the creation claims that God is unchangeable. Now, which am I to believe, a book that any impostor might make and call the Word of God, or the creation itself which none but an Almighty Power could make? For the Bible says one thing, and the creation says the contrary. The Bible represents God with all the passions of a mortal, and the creation proclaims him with all the attributes of a God.
It is from the Bible that man has learned cruelty, rapine, and murder; for the belief of a cruel God makes a cruel man. That bloodthirsty man, called the prophet Samuel, makes God to say, (I Sam. xv. 3) `Now go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not, but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.'
That Samuel or some other impostor might say this, is what, at this distance of time, can neither be proved nor disproved, but in my opinion it is blasphemy to say, or to believe, that God said it. All our ideas of the justice and goodness of God revolt at the impious cruelty of the Bible. It is not a God, just and good, but a devil, under the name of God, that the Bible describes.
What makes this pretended order to destroy the Amalekites appear the worse, is the reason given for it. The Amalekites, four hundred years before, according to the account in Exodus xvii. (but which has the appearance of fable from the magical account it gives of Moses holding up his hands), had opposed the Israelites coming into their country, and this the Amalekites had a right to do, because the Israelites were the invaders, as the Spaniards were the invaders of Mexico. This opposition by the Amalekites, at that time, is given as a reason, that the men, women, infants and sucklings, sheep and oxen, camels and asses, that were born four hundred years afterward, should be put to death; and to complete the horror, Samuel hewed Agag, the chief of the Amalekites, in pieces, as you would hew a stick of wood. I will bestow a few observations on this case.
In the first place, nobody knows who the author, or writer, of the book of Samuel was, and, therefore, the fact itself has no other proof than anonymous or hearsay evidence, which is no evidence at all. In the second place, this anonymous book says, that this slaughter was done by the express command of God: but all our ideas of the justice and goodness of God give the lie to the book, and as I never will believe any book that ascribes cruelty and injustice to God, I therefore reject the Bible as unworthy of credit.
As I have now given you my reasons for believing that the Bible is not the Word of God, that it is a falsehood, I have a right to ask you your reasons for believing the contrary; but I know you can give me none, except that you were educated to believe the Bible; and as the Turks give the same reason for believing the Koran, it is evident that education makes all the difference, and that reason and truth have nothing to do in the case.
You believe in the Bible from the accident of birth, and the Turks believe in the Koran from the same accident, and each calls the other infidel. But leaving the prejudice of education out of the case, the unprejudiced truth is, that all are infidels who believe falsely of God, whether they draw their creed from the Bible, or from the Koran, from the Old Testament, or from the New.
When you have examined the Bible with the attention that I have done (for I do not think you know much about it), and permit yourself to have just ideas of God, you will most probably believe as I do. But I wish you to know that this answer to your letter is not written for the purpose of changing your opinion. It is written to satisfy you, and some other friends whom I esteem, that my disbelief of the Bible is founded on a pure and religious belief in God; for in my opinion the Bible is a gross libel against the justice and goodness of God, in almost every part of it.
#since we are talking about christianity and the bible#the letter is not atheist but is anti-bible#christianity#religion#thomas paine
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One Act Play: Four Seasons
Theme: Love
Length: One Act Play
Mode: Romance
Medium: Television
Setting (Time and Place): England, 2018
Character/s: Alexis Marie Lopez
Tyler Frank Williams
What will be your name in the play?
Alexis Marie Lopez
What will you be like?
Main Character
Who else can be part of your dream role?
Anyone
What will he/she be like?
Leading man (Tyler)
NARRATOR:
Alexis and Tyler has been bestfriends since they were kids. They’ve been through everything with each other, they know everything about each other. Fast forward to the year 2018, the two are now 20 years old. Alexis has been dreaming of becoming a writer. Tyler, on the other hand, has been dreaming of marrying Alexis. Tyler had had feelings for Jo ever since the first day they met. But would Alexis, let their relationship be more platonic?
ALEXIS AND TYLER WALKING IN THE WOODS AS THEY’VE DONE FOR YEARS
ALEXIS:
My sisters got out of here. I guess I’ll be always living here until I finish up my novel
TYLER:
You don’t have to stay here, Alexis. You know that.
ALEXIS:
Why? You want to take me to run away with you?
TYLER EXHALES AND LOOKS AT HER, ABOUT TO TALK. ALEXIS SAW HIS FACE AND IMMEDIATELY KNOWS WHAT IT’S ABOUT
ALEXIS:
No, Ty—please don’t
TYLER:
It’s no use, Alexis; we’ve got to have it out!
ALEXIS:
No, we don’t. We shouldn’t, Ty
TYLER:
I have loved you ever since I’ve known you—I couldn’t help it and I tried to show, you wouldn’t let me which is fine but I must make you hear now and give me an answer because I cannot go on like this any longer.
ALEXIS:
Ty, no. You misinterpreted everythin—
TYLER:
(not listening to her)
I worked so hard to please you. I gave up everything that you didn’t like and I’m happy I did.
It’s fine and I waited and I never complained because I figured you loved me.
ALEXIS:
You didn’t have to do all of that, Ty.
TYLER (CONT’D):
(voice breaking)
And I figured I’m not half good enough and I’m not this great man everyone expects me to be.
ALEXIS:
Yes, you are and you are a great deal too—too good for me. And I’m so grateful to you and I’m so proud of you and I just don’t see why I can’t love you the way that you want me to. I don’t know why.
TYLER:
(in disbelief)
You can’t?
ALEXIS:
(helplessly)
I can’t change the feeling and it would be a lie to say I do when I don’t. I’m so sorry, Ty, so desperately sorry, but I can’t help it...
TYLER TURNS HIS BACK ON ALEXIS
TYLER:
I can’t love anyone else. I only love you
ALEXIS:
We’d be a disaster if we marry, Ty! We both have our own issues, you know that!
TYLER:
It wouldn’t be a disaster, Alexis. If we marry I’d be a perfect saint—
ALEXIS:
I can’t, Ty. I’ve tried it and I’ve failed.
TYLER:
Then why does everyone expect us to be together? Say yes and let’s be happy together, please
ALEXIS:
I can’t say yes truly so I’m not going to say it at all.
PAUSE
ALEXIS(CONT’D):
You’ll see that I’m right, eventually, and you’ll thank me for it.
TYLER:
I’d rather hang myself than realize that. I’d rather be dead
ALEXIS:
Ty, please don’t say that. Your world isn’t supposed to stop just because of me.
TYLER:
I’ve made you my world.
TYLER WALKS FURTHER AWAY FROM ALEXIS WHILE TALKING
ALEXIS:
You shouldn’t have done that, Ty.
ALEXIS FOLLOWS TYLER
ALEXIS(CONT’D):
Ty, listen, you’ll find some lovely accomplished girl who will love you and adore you and she’s gonna make a great wife for your great house but I wouldn’t, alright? I wouldn’t be this “accomplished” girl. I’m broken and I’m awkward, Ty
THE TWO OF THEM STOPPED WALKING
TYLER:
(not listening to what she’s saying)
I love you, Alexis.
ALEXIS(CONT’D):
I’m miserable, I haven’t accomplished anything in life and you’d be ashamed of me.
TYLER:
I love you, Alexis
ALEXIS:
Sooner or later, you’ll realize that this decision is wrong. Everything would be horrid, Ty.
TYLER:
(looking down)
Anything more?
ALEXIS:
No, nothing more.
TYLER:
Alright
TYLER ATTEMPTS TO LEAVE UNTIL
ALEXIS(CONT’D):
Except I— Ty, I don’t even believe I would ever marry. I’m happy as I am.
TYLER:
(now accepting his fate)
I think you’re wrong about that. I think you’ll marry. I think you’ll find someone to love and you’ll live with them and die for them because that’s your way and you will and I’ll watch.
TYLER THEN FINALLY WALKS AWAY FROM THE WOODS
ALEXIS JUST WATCHED HIM FLEE THE SCENE
Champagne Problem by Taylor Swift starts to play (Bridge Part)
Your midas touch on the chevy door, november flushed and your flannel cure
STILL FOCUSED ON ALEXIS BEING LEFT IN THE OPEN AREA
THEN
(DAYS PASSED)
SHOWS SCENE TYLER PACKING UP BECAUSE HE’S MOVING AWAY
This dorm was once a madhouse, I made that joke well it’s made for me
SHOWSH ALEXIS TRYING TO FINISH UP HER NOVEL
How evergreen, our group of friends. Don’t think we’ll say that words again
SHOWS ALEXIS GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE WANTING TO SEE TYLER ONCE AGAIN
And soon they’ll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through. One for the money, two for the show
THE TWO MEETS AGAIN, SMILING AT EACH OTHER
TYLER LEAVES
I never was ready so I watched you go
NARRATOR(V.O):
Tyler and Alexis are now entering a new chapter of their lives: Adulthood. Both of them are leaving their childhood which they both spent together. Alexis had just published her very first novel she’s been working on most of her teenage life. Tyler is now abroad trying to take over his father’s company. Tyler and Alexis leave childhood, and Tyler spent his childhood with Alexis, and he doesn’t want to leave it without her. Alexis is seen to not be regretting her decision. Tyler did marry a girl he met abroad while Alexis continued to write and never got married.
END
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“What is reality? Is it singular in nature? Or do several parallel realities exist at the same time? [...] But what if the simultaneous existence of life and death also applied to the macrocosmic world? Could different realities exist side by side? Could we split time and let it run in two different directions, and, as with the cat, induce a state of death and life simultaneously? And if so, how many different realities could exist side by side?”
#dark#darkedit#dark netflix#my gifs#i cannot believe they gave us the answer to the show in the first season#and i only realized it now#god what am i
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Whenever You Want
Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.2K
Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end
A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all
***
Din said he’d meet you here.
You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt. You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.
You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours. But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to. You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did. Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints. Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does. Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.
He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it. But truthfully, you didn’t want to. You were worried about him—still are, actually. But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on. He’s been through way worse, and you know it. You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.
The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers. He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.
Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening. Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure. All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.
Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation. After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.
During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield. It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips. The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.
They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards. To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.
Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.
“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster. “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”
“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you. “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code. My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”
Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound. “Why not?”
“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment. “Our organization operates under strict rules.”
Does it? You blink. No, it doesn’t. You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name. You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever. “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”
“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not. “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”
Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show. Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here. Something could’ve happened. Something could be happening right now, you need to push.
“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it. Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina. Speak up, speak up.
“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot. “They’re fodder. Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.” He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass. “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions. Tied specifically to Guild contracts.” Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare. “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties. Can’t have that.”
Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him. “You—You think I murdered Mando?”
“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace. “Not sure I’d care too much if you did. It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”
Shit. Shit. What do you do?
You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed. Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company. He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.
“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied. Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”
Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence. Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy. It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this. Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?
You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve. Karga is a nice guy, right? He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando. And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too. How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder? You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?
“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?” You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.
“Excuse me?” He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice. Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.
“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly. You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way. You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity. “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”
“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it. “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you. If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”
“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice. If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it. You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal. “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”
He shakes his head. “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”
“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out. “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”
Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold. It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to. It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando. You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave. You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides. He said he wants to help you? This can be his chance to prove it.
After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.
“What is your last name?” He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head. The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.
“Why does it matter?” You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.
“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours. “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”
Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously. “You have him down as John Doe?”
“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.
“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances. You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.
“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment. “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”
You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away. He helped you out, you’re halfway through this. Now comes the exchange. Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.
Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you. “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”
Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far. Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late? He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?
You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face. “Have we?”
“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”
Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.
“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”
Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table. There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task. “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”
“Be that as it may…” Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it. This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here. He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it. “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you. “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”
Okay. Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much. Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again. Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.
“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.” You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you. “And one for you.”
You blink at him, frozen in place.
“Lowest level, lowest pay. Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly…
Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.
You don’t want it. Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck. It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward. You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.
“What if I don’t want it?” You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.
Karga scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”
Shit. This is not at all how you expected any of this would go. You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request. There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary. Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum. “You said you’re here on his behalf. You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”
Oh. Oh, no. This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits. It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.
Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.
“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.
“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table. You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here. It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.
But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.
“Ah, Mando!” He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.
Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good. Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t. You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you. You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach. He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him? Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.
And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried. Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before. Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp. The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.
Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him. “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend. The farewells.”
You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.
The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air. Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now. You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.
If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.
Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe. “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Still, nobody at the table moves.
After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet. Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense. You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.
The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.
He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him. You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.
“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.
“Wait!” A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab. Right in fucking front of him. “Can’t forget this!”
Fuck. Great. Thanks.
Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t. You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out. Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now. You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.
After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it. Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.
***
The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.
Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried. You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual. You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing. Was there a confrontation, you wonder? Is he okay? He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.
He doesn’t drop your hand, though. As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you. Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.
Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view. The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.
You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace. He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.
“What happened?” He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down. “Are you alright? Why did you look so scared?”
You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say. How are you going to tell him? He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say? You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.
“I, uh… I-I’m sorry, I just…” But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him. “Oh, stars, um…”
“Did Karga fuck with you?” He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him. “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”
“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”
“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out. His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.
Tell him, you just need to tell him. If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.
“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”
You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.
Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.
“Okay,” he eventually tells you. Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess. “It’s okay. You did… good.”
The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak. He’s lying for your benefit, he must be. When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.
“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—” You start to say, but Din cuts you off.
“Did he make you…” His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”
You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.
“Who, Karga?” You have to think about it. Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already? You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility. “Um… no? I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”
“No?” He asks, taking a small step forward. “You don’t know? Or not really… you don’t think?”
You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes. You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now. It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.
“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…” Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him. “I don’t know, I’m not like you. I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better. I think he was probably just being normal. He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”
“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.
You blink up at him, completely dumb. This is what’s bothering him? Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work? It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played. He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them. How are you supposed to take that? Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning? You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?
“Why were you so late?” You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest. It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason. He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you. Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.
“I’m sorry.” He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly. Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him. “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.” His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention. “Did he flirt with you?”
“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?” You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.
Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.
After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm. In another weirdly stupid, primitive way. You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it. Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode. Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before. You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now. He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.
“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of. “Did he flirt with you?”
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “Maybe. He could’ve just been trying to be friendly. What did she make for you?”
“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit. “Did he scare you?”
“For me?” You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards. Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless. “You asked her to make something for me?”
“Did he scare you?” Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “Because I can go back, I swear—”
Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.
“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds. The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid. Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you. Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you. You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.
Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours. You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now. Achy. Hot. Needy. Wanting him to come closer.
“Will you do something for me?” He asks you after a prolonged silence. His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained. Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.
“Of course,” you breathe out.
Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you. “Go turn around and face that wall.”
You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice. Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards. He wants to do this here? Right now?
“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”
He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word. Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.
“What if somebody hears us?” You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.
“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck. You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought. Okay.
“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to. It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker. You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it. Slow, measured, but so restrained.
But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.
Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long. You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you. You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.
“Do you like carrying my gun around?” Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.
“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.
“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner. You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him. He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.
But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss. Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this? Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.
“Can you hear me?” Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you. Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.
“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull. Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.
“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment. You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you. “Scream.”
You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet. This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest. Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.
Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.
“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling. “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need. Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”
Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point. You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.
“Alright?” Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him. You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.
But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.
Nothing. Nothing. You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing. Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time. Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.
You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability. You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.
Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better. His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again. You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view. Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.
Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass. The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.
You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time. His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open. You��re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.
His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit. His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.
You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you. The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here. If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.
“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body. You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it. You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—
A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort. Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most. Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this. You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too. It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.
One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too. Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place. You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace. Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance. You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.
You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.
You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him. He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you. Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can. It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.
Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning. You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer. His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.
He’s panting. Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.
“Can you hear me?” He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it. “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.
And, if you wanted, you absolutely could. He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle. You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to. You could struggle. If you wanted.
Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it. You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time. Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him. You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.
When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more. It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too. Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.
He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—
“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”
He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.
Your hips could go forward, but they don’t. Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock. Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him. There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.
He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin. You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you. You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.
Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears. Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways. You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.
You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb. Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off. You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up. The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.
He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours. Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works. Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.
Setting you down is a mess, too. At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly. You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.
“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal. You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face. “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”
Can do. Easy. He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.
***
You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed. Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.
You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body. You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep. He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.
Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal. The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again. You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation. Come on, work. Move forward. Come on.
You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly. Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled. Ran over by a truck. Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.
Oh, but this is wonderful. This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart. The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones. You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs. It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever. It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.
You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it. “Hey. Keep your eyes closed.”
How did he know? You figured you’d be way ahead of him. You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here. The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over. You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.
The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point. It’s easy, you like it. Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.
He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back. Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway. It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin. Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.
You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.
It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine. He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin. His bar of soap, not yours. They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize. How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.
Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone. The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not. Hot water, not freezing cold. Standing upright and supporting you. Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.
You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue. You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again. Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this. Skin to skin contact. Someone to hold. Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar. Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.
Something sad tugs hard at your chest. You want to tell him not to leave. Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay. You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed. You don’t know. But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.
Don’t go.
But, instead of two words, you give him three.
Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.
And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.
It’s not ideal, you know. You know. From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection. But you know him. You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return. You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you. Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary. Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.
Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to. It wasn’t said so he could say it back. It just is. Some things don’t need explanations, they just are. You’re okay with that.
But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it. You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.
Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word. It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels. There’s something hidden underneath. You ache to know what it is.
But you’re so tired. You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless. He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.
But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.
“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber. “I’m… not allowed to ask. I can’t.”
Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense. Was that a translation? Or a continuation?
But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest. It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it. You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.
“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows. “You can.”
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin#fanfic#reader-insert#rough day#no-droids#smut
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Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT
A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.
For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.
Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.
Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.
The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.
"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"
Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.
"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.
"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"
Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.
Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.
The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.
Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.
Or so she thought.
"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.
"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.
"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.
Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.
"Please, let me be your guide"
"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"
"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.
Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.
As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"
It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.
"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.
"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.
"It's a yes, then?"
"Yes, it is"
"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.
"I'm a golf instructor"
"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"
"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"
"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"
Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.
"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"
***
"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.
She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.
Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.
"May I?"
"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.
She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.
"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"
And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.
"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"
"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"
The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.
As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.
Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.
He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"
Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"
As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"
"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"
Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.
"Is she a great teacher to you?"
"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"
Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"
The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.
Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.
They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.
"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"
"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"
"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"
"And you doubt it?"
"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"
After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.
Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.
Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.
With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.
"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"
The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.
"I would let you" Y/N replied.
***
Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.
"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.
"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.
After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.
As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.
He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.
"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.
He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."
Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.
"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.
"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"
"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.
Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.
Gracious God! There was lot to look at...
Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.
"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.
"Never been more sure in my whole life"
Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.
He was just half through when it began to hurt.
"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"
Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.
There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.
As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.
His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.
Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.
The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.
It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.
This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.
"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.
Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"
Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.
"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.
"Come for me, doll!"
She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.
But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.
He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.
"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"
Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.
Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.
In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.
Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.
Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.
She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.
"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"
Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.
Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.
"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.
#henry cavill#imagines#henry cavill imagines#smut#oops i guess#mind that i wrote smut in the train for the sake of science#henry cavill x reader
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The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John
This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.
The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.
“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.
But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.
You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.
But it didn’t get better.
Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.
Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.
I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.
At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.
Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.
It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.
But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.
Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.
Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.
They do like blowing stuff up.
Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.
What about your responsibility?
I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.
This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.
So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.
The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.
The “absent father” narrative was a lie.
What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.
I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.
You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.
Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.
It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.
The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”
John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).
Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.
It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.
John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.
The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.
“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.
But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.
#my spn thoughts#spn meta#dean and john#dean and sam and john#dean and chuck#dean and god#spn 11x20#spn 11x21#spn 14x20#spn 12x22#et alii#spn#long post
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Hello there! I’m back with another request. Can you write some headcanons of Michael, Jason, Bo and Bubba if their S/O was an artist? I’m an artist and I would love to see their reaction if I showed them one of my latest drawings.
Yay.. ok so I’ve got a few requests for this (from a shy s/o to a confident one) so I kind of mixed them together :) also btw I don’t write for Bubba but I will write for all the others, plus more! hope you enjoy 🔪💕
MASTERLIST
SLASHERS WITH S/O THAT LOVES TO DRAW OR IS AN ARTIST
INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, and CHROMESKULL
JASON VOORHEES
First of all living where you do at the cabin there is so much inspo from deer, to the lake, to changing of the seasons.. It is honestly the best place for an artist
Jason always noticed a black notebook lying around with pens and pencils on every other surface, and you were oddly protective of the book, so he left it alone respecting your boundaries
Sitting with him in the quiet cabin Jason loved the sounds of the pencils scratching along the paper, and he loved to watch the soothing motions of your wrist going to work
Slowly he will become more and more interested in what you're doing and he needs to see. Sneakily inching himself closer to you as you work away and stretching his neck as far as he can, catching a glimpse then feeling guilty
Jason wants to respect you so much but it kills him that you’re not showing him. So when you were in the shower he quickly ran to the book and gently ran his fingers over your work, amazed at how good everything was and how you brought the nature/animals to life in the book from around the camp
Flipping a page then he is met with sketches of himself, with the mask and without, his hands, some of his wounds with the bones sticking out... it was beautiful and he couldn’t look away until you walked into the room pushing him away from the book but seeing his expression made you melt, he loved it so much and slowly brought out confidence in you, making you show him your work all the time
A few times he had brought some art supplies home from a group of teens that came along
One day he came home to canvases all over the floor and red paint splattered all over your old t-shirt Jason freaked out thinking it was blood in the dim lighting, he stepped on your canvases with muddy boots and held you up making you yelp... “Baby it’s just paint”... well now he feels foolish and upset for stepping on your art
The next night he still felt bad but you showed him what you had created from “the incident”... Bright colours framed the bootprint and brought out the muddy tones, some of the canvases had pressed flowers along the details of the print and it was so beautiful Jason immediately hung them on the wall
Just an fyi he wants to always do crafts with you lol so make sure you help him
MICHAEL MYERS
Now this guy is pretty indifferent to everything but something about your art brings out a new side in him
You can say a lot of things about Michael but you cannot say he isn’t observant, he sees everything and knows everything
Like Jason he notices your many notebooks and various art supplies around the house, but he is far more intrusive than Jason and will rip the notebook from your hands holding your neck if you protest as he flips through it
Watching his face nothing changes, he just scans the pages then throws the notebook down walking away leaving into the night
The next morning notebook, paints, pens, brushes and other supplies litter the kitchen counter... wonder who got those???
Michael loves watching you work on your art, watching your facial expressions, the way the pens run along the paper and how the paint coats the canvases.. oop you just gave him an idea
One night he came home gruesomely cover in blood a little more than extra, and Michael moves above you and the art you are working on, whoops he is dripping blood on the canvas, then smearing it, then moving his knife along it using it as a brush, I guess
You yelled at him at first but watching how he seemed to enjoy the colours mixing together and the way the blood dried was sort of.. cute
You knew Michael had a funny and creative side just by the way he walked into the bedroom one night with a sheet over himself and sunglasses on, and the way he leaves marks on your body in a certain pattern or framing his favourite features of you. Michael’s art was his kill you realized
He really loves your pieces, even though he would never say so and Michael’s favourites were the sketches of himself you did and he would paint blood along them
You weren’t gonna lie it made the portraits more interesting and honestly beautiful, they quickly became your favourites as well
I’m sorry but my horny self just wants to see Michael in an all-black suit at an art gallery admiring the masked portrait of himself covered in blood... sorry but it’s hot lol
BO SINCLAIR
So Bo is not really observant so it might take him a while to notice the art supplies around the house but even then he thinks it’s just Vincent’s
You will probably have to do just do the art in front of him before he gets that its your art supplies.. man sucks lol
Bo really enjoys your company when he is in the shop, you just sitting there working away in your notebook and him under the hood of his truck
He doesn’t necessarily push to see what you’re drawing but Bo teases, the harder you hide it the harder he teases... “what ya got in there sex drawings?” “Fuck darlin’ let me be your model”
If you don’t want him to see what you’re doing never leave your notebook behind because the man is a snoop in every sense of the word
Bo 100% supports your art even though he isn’t very interested in it and doesn’t really get it, if it makes you happy he will steal supplies from his twin and if victims have notebooks or pens he will bring them to you immediately
On a day where you decided to spend the day at the shop, sitting on your chair sketching away while Bo was organizing his tools, he kept catching your glances and smirked “Baby, you need somethin?” he would ask smugly.
“Nope” a simple answer not stroking his ego “gonna grab a beer from downstairs you want one?” Bo nods as you make your way to the mini-fridge. Quickly the man strides over to the notebook, opening the page where you had placed your pencil. He knew it, sketches of himself, it makes his ego skyrocket.
“BO!!” pushing him away and he grabs the book holding it just out of your reach smirking “Momma always said I’d be a good model” “Don’t flatter yourself Sinclair, you’re the only man around for miles that doesn’t wear a mask or look like a trash man” you laughed as him smirk fell... run
He honestly loves your art even though Bo gives you a hard time... His favourite thing is falling asleep to the pencil sounds against the paper when you’re laying in bed together
VINCENT SINCLAIR
SAAAAAAME... lol
The man notices right away that he begins to lose his an unused notebook and some of his best art pencils
It made you very nervous to show Vincent what you sketched and painted since he was just so good at art in every way. It was unfair
His favorite thing to do with you is make little sculptures from wax or clay, he could tell you were very creative and good at what you made, and he would always be super supportive
Vincent’s praise and support made you more comfortable with doing your art around him and even showing him. The man loves it and loves all of it
Different from his brother, Vinny respects you a lot and is fine with not looking in your notebook until you’re ready to show him. He hates when people see his unfinished work and flip through his notebooks as well
The good thing about dating him is Vincent’s art stuff is now yours
Also he is a very good teacher, somehow though he cannot talk, Vinny never makes you feel bad about your art and if you need help he is more than happy to support
Art date nights!! Getting the idea from your phone, you lit all the candles and brought down all the paint you could along with the large unused canvases you had found. When Vincent strolls downstairs his eyes go wide, seeing you in just your bra and underwear “I’m ready for art class Vin” you giggle
When he finds your paintings or sketches of himself without his mask Vincent’s heart melts, finding someone like you to love him, let alone see his destroyed features as art kills him
CHROMESKULL
Jesse is a very watchful human, even when he isn’t at home the guy has cameras literally everywhere
When he was gone on a "business trip" you had all the free time in the world, plus you had picked up some new art supplies, so why not work a large piece when Jesse isn't around to distract you... When you had worked on for a few hours you got a text 'How's the painting coming along?' And that's when you realized cameras are everywhere!
If you are a shy person with your art he basically doesn’t allow you to be, he’s a pushy spoiled man but he is also very supportive and it makes you more confident in showing him
Jesse honestly loves art and has many expensive paintings in his large home, so when he sees your art you better believe he will have Preston frame the art and put it on the walls, with special art gallery lights really making it look perfect
If you need any and I mean any art supplies no matter how expensive Jesse supports it *hands you his gold credit card*
"Oh.. renovations? To the already perfect mansion?" "Yup.. it's your new art studio"
Art, wine and cheese nights... the perfect date
Feeling uninspired? alright time to change the scenery, let’s go to a tropical destination or a wintery cabin. The man wants to spoil you and put your passion at the top of his priority list, plus he just wants a vacation and see you in your swimwear
It doesn't matter if you're shy about your art or confident Jesse will say he is taking you to an event, get you all dolled up and take you to an art gallery event that is just your art... surprise! Dumb rich bastard loves your work and flaunts it to everyone he can
#my writing#asks#requests#horror#slasher#slashers#slashers x reader#slasher hcs#slasher headcanons#micheal myers#jason voorhees#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#chromeskull#michael myers x reader#michael myers imagine#laid to rest#halloween#friday the 13th#house of wax#laid to rest 2#michael myers x s/o
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