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bangtaninborderland · 1 year

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MYG - Music To My Heart.

Part 2.

You knocked on his studio door, once, twice and then when he didn’t answer you knocked a much firmer third.

The door swung open, the older man grunting about not wanting to be disturbed, that is until he sees you. His frown evened out as his lips turned into a subtle smile.

“You came? Is everything okay?” He stepped aside, giving you the go-ahead to enter the room.

You sat down in his chair, which had been pushed into the far corner almost as if he wanted to distance himself from the computer. “I’m okay, you are not.”

He rolled his eyes closing the door, taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “I am, if Jimin called you then you should have ignored it.”

“He said you swore at him.” You raise your eyebrows, Yoongi was never one to raise his voice, he wouldn’t be afraid to use an insult or two but no one ever took it personally.

“I’m just stuck okay? You know what I get like whenever I have a block.” His gaze falls to his fingers as he picks the skin around the nail, something your recognised a long time ago as being something he did because of his anxiety.

You sighed walking over to him, sitting yourself in his lap. His hands ceased their silent attack on one another in favour of resting on your hips. “We talked about this yoon. You have to rest otherwise you’ll get burnt out.”

“It’s not like that this time, I nearly have it. I can feel it there I just don’t know how to bring those thoughts forward. I even tried meditating.” He defends himself, his voice cutely raising a pitch.

You but your lip in hopes of hiding your smile. “You tried meditating.”

“Jimin caught me and told me he would post it on Weverse if I didn’t go home.” He scowled.

You remember how jimin had been vague earlier on the details that prompted Yoongis' outburst. “That explains why he was so shady when he called me.”

“You have got to stop listening to any member in the maknae line, I swear they only exist to make you babysit me.” He laughs resting his head against your shoulder.

You let him sit there for as long as he needs, his breathing grows quiet as does everything else in the room. You relax alongside him, your own head resting against his as you run your hand through his long black hair. After a while, you begin to hum, something you often did to occupy the space between you and him.

You almost fall off his lap as he sits up, pushing you off his lap. “What the fuck Yoongi?!” You shout throwing his shooky pillow at him.

“That hum.” He sits in his chair his fingers rushing across the keyboard as if his thought was going to escape him any minute. “What was that hum?”

You lean forward, a little confused. “I don’t know it was just something I made up as I went along.”

“Could you do it again but into the mic?”

“Min Yoongi if you want me to feature on your song that will be 5 million.”

“Won?” He asks, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Dollars.” You giggle, tiptoeing over to him.

“Never gonna happen but I’ll let you braid my hair.” He extends a hand to which you shake playfully.

You shake your head in disbelief as you walk over to the microphone, waiting for him to signal the okay before humming the same tune. He had you do it a few more times before asking you to hum another one but this time quieter.

“I think I have an idea for some lyrics.” He explains to you, extending a hand to call you back to him.

You could see the earlier tension in his shoulders were no more. “I hope I helped.”

“You did Sweetheart. How about you go and get us some dinner and meet me at home in say an hour? I’ll get some lyrics recorded and meet you at home.”

You knew this was him gently explaining he needed his space to work and you were more than happy to give him that, he went to hand you his card as you slipped on your shoes but you declined. As much as you would both joke about it you always were equal. Of course, there were things he could afford to do that you couldn’t but you always did your best to contribute fairly.

On days like today when your Boyfriend was stressed and overwhelmed you liked to treat him the same way he, did you. You requested that the driver he had arranged to take you home stop at Yoojung Sikdang.

Yoongi had talked about wanting food there for months, it was always way too busy and it was an attraction that army would frequently visit, it being the restaurant bangtan had used during their debut days.

You had met the owner a few times, she knew who you were but no one else did which allowed you the ability to pick up yoongis favourite dish from the restaurant.

You got home pretty fast which is why you were surprised to see Yoongis shoes by the door. The sound of the refrigerator opening alerts you to his location.

You managed to slide off your shoes and carry the many boxes safely into the kitchen without dropping anything.

“Hey baby do you wa- you did not.” His eyes widen in disbelief as he focuses on the box’s logo.

“I thought you deserve an old comfort.”

“What did you get?” He practically throws the box open in excitement.

“black pork and stone pot bibimbap and grilled black pork belly.”

He swings around faster than you could comprehend, his lips colliding with yours as his hands grip into your hair. He traces your jaw with kisses, leaving a mark just below your ear.

“If I knew you’d react like that I would have gone months ago.” You laugh, feeding him a piece of pork.

“Aish don’t be a brat.” He accepts the food, mumbling about how good it tastes.

You both laughed before taking another bite of food. You watched the man silently, his face seemingly happy. “How did it sound in the end?”

“Like music to my heart.”

You can’t help but blush as he winks at you, a hand squeezing your thigh before turning back to his meal. His own shyness laid out as he laughed into his bony hands.

Yoongi wasn’t the easiest person, it took you a long time to understand him but you were thankful that you took the time to, you couldn’t imagine your life without the man. His random spurts of energy, his focus and dedication, his passion, the way he loves and the way he wants to be loved are all things you never thought you’d love about a person, funnily enough, they are all the things you love about him.

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hoedamn-eron · 3 months

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bluey!

Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.

Warnings: As always, Nathan is a warning. No offence to Miss Rachel or anyone who uses Miss Rachel (I’ve personally never watched her, just needed Nathan to be a dick). Hints of infertility (from this episode of Bluey). Teeny tiny mention of parental anxiety of meeting milestones (from this episode of Bluey). Not proofread this time. Word count: 1,238 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Yet another self indulgent fic about dad!Nathan. Set in the same universe as Shut Up, Kid, but can be read as a stand-alone. This also was only meant to be a quick one shot but it turned out to be over 1k 😂.

Nathan Bateman was a fucking genius.

He built the code for Blue Book when he was thirteen years old.

He used to think himself a God. He could build realistic androids, for Christ's sake (not anymore, not since ‘The Incident’).

And because of this, he finds it hard to ‘switch off’. His brain was always moving a million miles a minute, constantly filled with thoughts of how to improve the company, and now that he’s a dad, it just added another thing to think about. And he isn’t complaining about having to think about Silas – he loves the kid, would do anything for him – but at the same time...it is just another thing to keep his brain busy.

Like today.

You come walking into his office (the door is open most days now), holding Silas on your hip, his favourite pacifier in his mouth, and carrying as many toys as you could in your other hand.

“Can you watch him for an hour, please?”

You see Nathan’s shoulders slump before you’ve even finished asking, and you ignore the spark of irritation that sits uncomfortably in your chest as Nathan turns his chair to look at you. You know he’s busy, but you’re busy too; you’ve been called in for a virtual meeting, on your maternity leave, no less, with the department heads – you know they wouldn’t appreciate a noisy baby in the background (despite the fact you want to make a point that they requested you...on your maternity leave).

Besides, Nathan doesn’t have any tight deadlines right now. He’s the CEO, he can push anything back whenever he damn well pleases anyway.

“Nathan, he’ll just sit and watch his TV show for a bit, it’s only an hour.”

Nathan sighs, and you tense at it.

He makes a mental note to make up for it later.

“Okay,” he says, and without looking at him, you walk over to the rug in his office, sitting Silas down on it before placing the toys around him, in easy reach for him.

You turn on the TV and place Bluey on, before walking over to Nathan’s desk and placing the remote on it. You give a swift, “See you in an hour,” before hurrying out to make your meeting.

Nathan gives a quick look to Silas, who – in your defence – was still, watching the TV, sucking away on his pacifier. Satisfied, Nathan turns back to his computer, his eyes drifting over to Silas every now and then before turning back to his screens. The noise from the TV fades into the background, until one particular line jumps out at Nathan.

“Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy.”

Nathan huffed a laugh through his nose. He couldn’t agree more. He glanced at the TV then back at Silas before turning back to his computer.

After a while, another line came through, causing him to chuckle again.

“Can I help you?”

“I wish you could, mate.”

Eventually, when he hears the characters talking about – what he thinks is – wanting kids and being unable to have them, he turns his full attention to the TV.

“What the fuck are you watchin’?” Nathan asks before standing and slipping his hands in his pockets as he saunters over to stand behind Silas.

Nathan stands and watches the family of cartoon dogs; Bluey and her sister, Bingo, and their parents, Chilli and Bandit. He watches with a furrowed brow for a moment, wondering how this was his son’s favourite show (it was probably all the colours). And he guesses the theme tune was a little catchy. And sure, Silas didn’t quite understand it, but the dialogue was funny.

“This is better than some of the other shit you watch,” Nathan said, bending down and picking Silas up, without taking his eyes off the TV. “That whiney black bunny you watch? Hate him. The Teletubbies? Also awful. I don’t understand why your mom thinks it’s a classic.”

Silas made a small noise around his pacifier and pointed to the TV.

“Yeah, she your favourite?” Nathan asks, looking at Silas. “What’s her name again? Bingo?”

Silas makes another noise, almost as if confirming with Nathan, still pointing at the TV.

Nathan nodded anyway. “Okay, okay, gotcha.”

After a moment, Nathan stood holding Silas, the two of them watching Bluey together.

Your meeting overran.

By nearly 45 minutes.

Nathan was going to be pissed.

You speed-walk to his office, ready to blurt out an apology (even though it wasn’t your fault the meeting went over), but you stop mid step when you hear Nathan say to Silas, “I think she’s sleeping with the neighbour.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you hear him, then Silas babble back.

“Oh yeah, you agree? They’re too friendly, right?”

You slowly walk into the Nathan’s office, seeing him standing with his bank to you on the rug, holding Silas in his arms as they watched Bluey together. Nathan was lightly swaying, almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

You sucked in your lips, holding back a laugh. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You better not turn out like Muffin, she’s insane,” Nathan said. “I’ll love you regardless, but still.”

Your heart skipped a beat, like it did every time you heard those words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Nathan had never said ‘I love you’, but he…struggles…to express his emotions that aren’t irritability or exasperation. But with Silas, it came naturally to him. He never failed to say ‘I love you’ to his son (of course, Nathan does say it to you, but he understands you’re a ‘full-grown adult who can identify acts of love’; his words).

You’re brought out of your reverie as a new episode of Bluey started, the theme music kicking in. Your eyes widen and you laugh quietly as Nathan starts lightly jumping around to the music, Silas laughing and kicking his legs excitedly.

“I’m watching the footage back to this,” you say.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nathan says, jumping as he whirls around to look at you. “Announce yourself, would you?”

“You, uh…” you say, still grinning. “You watching Bluey?” you look at Silas, who smiles at you and kicks his legs in excitement. “You watching Bluey with dada? Does dada like Bluey?”

“This is fuckin’ great,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “So much better than that Miss Rachel, or whatever her name is. She’s fuckin’ annoying.”

“Excuse me, she’s very educational!”

“She’s overdoing it. The kid will learn to talk fine with just us.”

“His first word will probably be something inappropriate,” you say. “Like fuck. Or asshole.”

Nathan doesn’t reply as he turns back to the TV. You come and stand next to him, watching the episode with him. It’s the one where Chilli was telling Bluey about how she was worried that Bluey wasn’t going to meet her milestones, but Coco’s mom had told her she was doing an amazing job. It was one of your favourite episodes.

“I’ve been stood here for an hour watching these,” Nathan said quietly. “It’s nice.”

“Just standing and swaying with him?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” Nathan said simply, not expanding.

You nod, before leaning against him a little. You feel him push back at you.

You stand together and watch a few more seconds of Bluey before you ask, “So you think Chilli and Lucky’s dad are going at it?”

“Oh they definitely are.”

#nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x reader #dad!nathan bateman x mom!reader #dad!nathan bateman #Oscar Isaac #ex machina #f!reader #mom!reader

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mera-k1 · 2 months

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hiii!! i'm gonna request samatoki, rei, kuko, rio, doppo, and hitoya with a chubby afab s/o who is insecure and it shows during sex 😢 i love you

hii!! i can do that for you, nonnie! love you too~

Insecure s/o

Samatoki, Rio, Doppo, Rei, Kuko, Hitoya x afab!reader

-suggestive (no explicit sexual things are described), insecurities about body (no body type is specified), hitoya's brother is mentioned briefly.

-for samatoki, he's not all that in tune with bodily insecurities. he's always felt pretty comfortable with his body so when you voice your insecurity about it, he's confused. specifically at why be insecure about your body when he thinks it's just fine as is!

-obviously, coming off as a bit insensitive, he tries to assure you that there's nothing wrong with your body. it's perfect just the way it is! whether you think your chest is too big/small, your hips are too wide, etc etc. he doesn't care.

-samatoki has a very careless attitude when it comes to how your body looks to be honest. if he likes you for who you are then he'll love your body just the same. he's more of an actions over words sort of guy so he tries to show that he loves your body no matter what you think of it rather than straight up say it to you.

-rio is very caring towards you. he does care a lot about you but he isn't quite sure of the right things to say when you bring up your insecurities during sex.

-again, he's more of an actions > words sort of guy. as much as he'd like to reassure you, he'd rather show you. he'll kiss the parts you say you're insecure about, always making sure to pay extra attention to them.

-in his eyes, you shouldn't have to be insecure about anything but he understands that it's not your fault. he'll do his best to reassure you about your body with his endless amount of patience with you.

-doppo definitely can get where you're coming from. he understands insecurity, although probably not about his own body, he can sympathize with you easily.

-it honestly catches him off guard the first time you say it. you? insecure? why?! was he doing something wrong as your boyfriend?! or maybe it was his fault?! his mind runs at a million miles an hour...

-poor doppo doesn't want you to think that way about yourself but he knows he won't be helpful in the slightest but he still does try to cheer you up sort of. he tries his best to pick and choose the right words that'll make you feel better.

-rei isn't a very caring man overall. it catches him off guard when you say you feel insecure about your body. he might not say it but he thinks your body looks great!

-he doesn't really favorite actions or words, it's more of whatever feels right to him in the moment. usually he'll lean towards actions more instead of words when he shows that he likes your body.

-in any case, he'll be sure that you forget all about that insecurity whenever you're with him. he's a man of his word after all...

-kuko, very easily, will tell you about his dislike for your insecurity about your body. he just hates that you're insecure about something that you don't need to be insecure about. he loves it just the way it is!

-although he leans more towards actions, you bet he's going to be grumbling and groaning all sorts of praises about your body in bed no matter what. and if you push his face away? just know his hands will do the talking for him instead.

-he can be extremely stubborn and he truly means well in this situation. kuko wants you to love your body as much as he loves it! even if he did fall for your personality first.

-poor hitoya gets a nagging worry inside of him when you mention this to him. it sort of reminds him of his brother. he doesn't want this insecurity to consume you and drive you to do what his brother had done.

-he tries his best to be there for you, to change your mind in any way possible because he loves you a lot. you made him soft. he doesn't regret that at all though.

-he becomes a doting boyfriend, always trying his best to worship your body or just simply praise you. he's dedicated to keeping you happy in your own body.

#♡ fics ♡#hypmic #hypmic x reader #hypnosis mic #samatoki aohitsugi x reader #rio mason busujima x reader #doppo kannonzaka x reader #rei amayado x reader #kuko harai x reader #hitoya amaguni x reader

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zhongliswify · 1 year

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Zhongli When

Here is how I think Zhongli would react during emotional scenarios. In my extremely delusional mind these scenarios are canon. Tell me which scenario do you agree with the most! My personal fave is tired Zhongli. He’s too cute…Let’s start off the year with something fun~

(angry, sad, jealous, happy, tired & horny)

cw: slight nsfw! gen!reader

find all my little imagines using the # zhongliswify

enjoy! <3

Zhongli when he’s angry with you:

Zhongli is usually straightforward about what he likes or dislikes. However, when it comes to you, he can’t help but conceal those feelings. At first, you wouldn’t notice a thing. Zhongli has a habit of speaking a bit coldly to everyone. Some would even say that he can be quite rude. It’s only when he opens his mouth to speak with you that you notice the change in his tone. He’d speak to you as if he were speaking to a colleague at work. No pet names, no words of affirmation, the usual kindness in his voice would simply be nonexistent. It’ll take for you to actually reach out and ask if it’s alright for him to let it all out. He wouldn’t scream, on the contrary, he’d be rather calm. So calm that it’s a bit scary. But once he lets it all out, he’ll pull you into his arms and get right back to using pet names. He might be petty, but he can never stay mad at you for too long. If for some reason you still don’t notice after a while or you’re angry at each other, he’d be the one to approach you first. He just doesn’t like being angry with you, even less when you’re the angry one.

Zhongli when he’s sad:

Zhongli isn’t one to voice his negative emotions to you. Even during his most emotional moments, his first concern has always been you. When it comes to you, Zhongli doesn’t care about himself one bit. When Zhongli is sad, he zones out more often. He tunes everything out and simply loses himself in his head. You have to call out to him about thirty times for him to finally answer you. Over the years, you’ve learned that simply saying “Are you okay?” doesn’t work with that stubborn husband of yours. Instead, you wait until he’s sitting on the couch, laying in bed or simply sitting on your patio and hug him. You wrap your hands around his torso while laying your head on his chest as you listen to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. You two simply stay in that position in complete silence until he’s ready to talk to you. Not once has he ever rejected that kind of approach. After some time, he whispers a small “Thank you.” When he does, you let him know that you’re always ready to listen and that he can always lean on you. Sometimes he tells you everything and sometimes he doesn’t and the story ends there. You don’t push any further.

Zhongli when he’s jealous:

Zhongli doesn’t get jealous often. Not because he thinks you can’t attract others, on the contrary, he’s very aware that you’re a sight for sore eyes. He just knows that you like him just as much as he likes you. Your love language might not be as vocal as his, but you’ve never made him feel unloved. However, there are very rare times when Zhongli does get jealous. Whenever you meet with people that are not only successful but super extroverted, he can’t help but feel annoyed. When he’s jealous, he becomes passive-aggressive toward the person he’s jealous of. From rude comments hidden as questions to compliments meant to be hurtful. He knows that this kind of approach was childish, but he doesn’t care. Holding your hand, giving you not-so-subtle kisses and wrapping his arms tightly around you. This way, the entire room will know that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you. You find it cute when he’s jealous, but you’ve never told him this. There was only one time when his jealousy got over his head. Even after reassuring him a million times that it was okay, Zhongli still ended up punching some guy right in the face. After that, you didn’t speak to him for 3 days. The man he had punched was someone that could help boost your career tremendously. Not only that, he was an openly married man. Zhongli had to beg you for forgiveness for a week. Don’t worry, the man was still willing to help you.

Zhongli when he’s happy:

When Zhongli’s happy, the phrases “I love you,” and “Give me a kiss…” will be floating around the house for a while. From hugs to random kiss attacks, he’ll give them to you all. Although it might not seem like it, Zhongli loves physical affection and words of affirmation. Just being in your arms brings him great joy. Every moment he spends with you makes him feel like a kid in love. He’ll shower you with compliments until you have to physically put your hand over his mouth to shut him up. He hopes to share many more happy moments with you. It seems that he always finds comfort in your arms.

Zhongli when he’s tired:

Zhongli doesn’t get tired often. Even with such a tiring job, he knows how to balance his work and personal life. There are days, however, when he feels like a deflated balloon living off the little amount of air left. The moment he comes home, he drops his things to the floor and plops down onto you. He doesn’t care if he’s heavy. He wants to be selfish just for a little while. He waits patiently until you shower him with your recharging kisses. In Zhongli’s head, your touches bring him back to life. He feels like he could work for a hundred more hours. You, on the other hand, are very strict about your husband's free time and work hours. When he’s home, you don’t even let him near his laptop. So when he comes home, looking absolutely defeated, you pamper him. Like a cat, he lays his head on your thighs and lets you stroke his soft brown hair until he fails to keep his golden eyes open.

Zhongli when he’s horny:

When Zhongli gets horny, he tries his best to hide it. He doesn’t let you kiss him, hug him or even get near him. He can only hold your hand and even then, his grip is tighter and firm. You didn’t understand why he did this. You were his spouse. If he needed someone to help him relieve himself you were right there. His stubborn attitude never lasts long though. Whether you’re relaxing, standing next to him while fixing yourself a snack or simply laying in bed, his hands will somehow find themselves on your chest. The moment his lips begin to pepper your neck with kisses, which is the spot he attacks first when he’s in the mood, you already know that it’s going to be an eventful night. Unlike when he’s at work, where his image is kept clean and professional, at home he’s unrecognizable. Unless he’s feeling extra romantic or expects to go for multiple rounds with his beast-like stamina, you two will be doing it right where you are at that moment. His usually sharp and clear eyes will be clouded with lust, whilst his voice will go down at least three octaves. His skin doesn’t flush easily, but his ears become bright red. Whenever you mention the colour change of his ears while gently brushing them with your thumb, he sinks his teeth into your skin. You’ve always assumed that it was his way of shutting you up, but according to him, it’s because every word that comes out of your mouth at that moment sounds lewd to him. Especially if you’re teasing him. Eventually, he did tell you the reason why he doesn’t let you touch him when he feels like doing it. It’s because knowing himself, he’d do it in a not-so-subtle place. He wants to at least wait until you’re both inside your home, even if it means the front door, to start devouring you.

also..thank u hoyoverse… 🤍💕💕🧖‍♀️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

#fanfic #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongliswify #genshin fluff #zhongli oneshot #zhongli scenarios #zhongli imagines #zhongli x y/n #genshin imagines #imagines #zhongli x gender neutral reader

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chiharuhashibira · 9 months

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Part 6 is here!

I was originally planning to make this the epilogue of 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮, but, I love you my baby readers soooooo, Imma extend the fic! ^^

So stay tuned as I am really excited to unveil more chappies with you~

A massive, massive thank you once again to @skeleton-the-gangser for requesting the story!

Taglist:@unofficialmuilover@sofilsworld@skeleton-the-gangser@ahashiraswife @sharkyy-tm

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚅𝙸

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Content Warnings: Curse words, Slightly Suggestive

(Image is not mine, credits to the rightful owner)

You woke up with your limbs tangled with Sanemi. The man was still deeply asleep beside you, and you didn't want to wake him up. Sleeping, Sanemi looked so innocent. All you wanted to do there was look at him and take in this one-of-a-kind sight.

You caressed his scars as you always wondered where they had gotten them. Your touch seemed to wake him up, so you stopped, but it was too late; Sanemi was already blinking, wondering where he was.

You smiled at him and planted a small kiss on his lip. "Good morning, Sanemi." The math teacher seemed to realise what had happened last night, and so he pulled you into a warm embrace and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Beneath the blankets, both of you were still naked, bearing the remnants of last night's making love.

"Nemi baby... I always wonder, why do you have these scars?"

You asked, caressing the huge scar on his chest while kissing the ones on his face. Sanemi was astounded by your question, but he had told himself a million times before that this might happen. So...

"It's from a car accident that happened when I was just 13 and Genya was eight. The one where we lost our mother and father."

"Oh... sorry for asking about that, Sanemi."

"No, it's okay. So, I tried protecting my siblings but failed, as even if I tried to, Genya still got those major scars and trauma."

You embraced Sanemi, trying to comfort him from the ghost of his past. Both of you lost loved ones in a car accident, and you can imagine how painful it is for Sanemi, especially whenever he sees his younger brother, whom he says he failed to protect.

"I'm okay, baby; no need to comfort me. How about you? What happened before?"

"Oh... I was ten when our car fell into the lake. I told myself before that I didn't deserve to live because my family was gone. But then, Tsutako-sama and Tomioka-san came into my life."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's alright, love. If my family is here, they'll want me to be happy. And I'm happy with you."

Sanemi smiled at what you said. He felt happy to hear that you were happy with him. So with that, Sanemi kissed you once again, which led to another passionate uniting of your bodies and souls.

You watched as Obanai stared at Sanemi, his friend, with concern in his eyes.

"Hey, I saw you earlier. You gave coffee to that weirdo, Tomioka. Don't tell me—"

"Eh, the man's actually nice. Try to talk with him some time." Sanemi said, patting the shoulder of his friend. Your boyfriend noticed that you were watching them, so he turned to you and gave you a wink.

It has been a few weeks since the incident with Tomioka at your house. Sanemi and your friend still haven't been that close, but they're casual now. Tomioka sometimes gives Sanemi ohagi, and on the other hand, the math teacher gives him coffee whenever he's worked up. It was too nice to see two of the most important men in your life in peace.

Suddenly, you felt a hand drape over your shoulder, and when you turned to see who it was, you were met with glistening fuchsia eyes.

"Uzui-san..."

"Told you! Just call me Tengen, remember?"

You nodded and gave him a smile. "Fine, Tengen-san."

"Eh? Drop the honorifics~" He added, letting go of you as he sat in Tomioka's seat.

You didn't answer the man, as you're quite confused with him. A part of you is wondering, why is he here now? Usually, this man is locked up in his art room. But then you just shrugged off the thought and started to look back at the test papers that were left on your table.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, and when you looked up, it was Sanemi, who was staring at Tengen intensely. "Oh, what brought you here?"

"Eh? I'm still a teacher here, Shinazugawa-san."

"I know, man. I mean, you're always locked up in your cave up there."

Tengen draped his hand on your shoulder, and that instantly made a nerve pop out of Sanemi's forehead. But then your partner made an effort to calm down. He's aware that Tengen still doesn't know that you're off-limits, as you're already his girlfriend.

"Just wanted to see you all! Especially, Y/N-san." You were astounded at what Tengen said. Yes, you were close with him before even getting close with Sanemi, as he seems to be a cool guy.

A groan escaped from Sanemi's lips as he swatted off Tengen's hand over your shoulder. "Oi, don't pester Y/N-sensei. She's busy. Just come with us. Obanai and I will head out... Right Obanai?"

"Oh, are we?" Obanai asked, blinking in confusion.

"Yes! So let's go and enjoy the lunch!"

With those words, Tengen wasn't able to say goodbye properly. Sanemi quickly yanked the art teacher away from you, dragging the bewildered Obanai along with him.

Classes ended quickly after that moment. You decided to stay at school for another hour to finish some stuff, though. You haven't been able to talk to Sanemi, as he seemed too busy with his students. So now you're walking alone along the hallway when you overhear some students talking.

"Shinazugawa-sensei and Kocho-sensei look so cute together!"

"I know right! I heard that they were a couple before when they were still studying here."

"For real?!"

"Yep! I hope they will still go back together."

You felt a pang of pain in your chest as you listened to what these children were talking about. It's not their fault; they don't know that you're with Sanemi now. It's just uncomfortable to hear. But of course, you want to separate work from your personal life, so you stopped yourself from interrupting their conversation.

A frown was plastered on your beautiful face as you walked along the hallway. You weren't concentrating on where you were going, so you bumped into someone, which made you almost stumble.

"Oh sorry!"

"No, I'm sorry. Are you okay, babe?"

"Sanemi?" You looked up and were surprised to finally see your boyfriend. You almost wanted to just hug him and find comfort in his touch because of what you just heard.

"Are you okay, babe?"

"Sanemi, can we talk?" You asked with your tears almost spilling out. Kanae's past relationship with Sanemi is still a sensitive matter, as you still feel insecure. No one can actually blame you because insecurity is a hard thing to resolve.

Sanemi immediately nodded and pulled you towards his classroom, not caring if any teachers or students saw him holding your hand. All he wanted to do now was find out what had upset you.

He closed the door behind him and pulled you into the corner of the room, where you'd not easily be seen. Sanemi lifted your head with his index finger and caressed your cheek. His pale purple eyes are focused on yours.

"Baby what happened?"

"Sanemi, do you really love me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

Sanemi placed a soft kiss on your forehead and held your hand tight. You felt as if the pain in your chest had subsided a bit in the math teacher's presence.

"I... I heard the students earlier..."

"What did those punks say?"

"They said that you and Kanae look good together."

"THOSE PUNKS. I'M GONNA—"

"Sanemi, do you love me?"

"Of course! Don't listen to those little demons." Sanemi kissed your hand, comforting you. "You're my girlfriend now, and all that matters is that. Don't let others comments ruin your day."

You nodded, finally giving a smile to your loving boyfriend. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too."

"Nii-chan, are you... Oh, hi Y/N-sensei!"

Sanemi closed his eyes, irritated with the sudden interruption of his younger brother. But still, he stood up and went to Genya anyways, leaving you to watch them converse.

"Oh, um, Y/N-sensei, I need to stay for a couple more hours. The math club needs me. Let's just continue our discussion tomorrow."

Sanemi had that longing look in his eyes, but, of course, he couldn't leave his little brother. You just nodded and stood up from your seat. "See you then, Shinazugawa-sensei, Genya-kun."

You ended up walking alone, watching the sky as you enjoyed the calm breeze. It's almost night, and you're wondering if Sanemi will visit you later.

The man knows how to calm you down whenever that insecurity arises. Even if you deny it a thousand times, Sanemi will notice them and make sure to assure you of his feelings. Despite his harsh facade, he can't resist you.

A small smile crept up your lips as you muttered it once again. "Sanemi can't resist me." That gave you a tickling sensation in your stomach, which lifted your spirits somewhat. You just love how the man shows you the other side of him. The way he blushed, the way he would hold your hand, everything

You were about to cross the street when, suddenly, a flash of light blinded you.

"Hey...You're finally awake."

You opened your eyes, feeling that pain behind your head. You looked around but immediately felt dizzy. "Hey, don't move. You're still injured, so don't force yourself for now."

The voice seemed familiar, and despite what he just said, you still turned to look at him and met his golden-orange eyes. You're too stunned to move. Is this... Hotaru?

"Are you the God of Death?" You asked, thinking you were already dead, as you never expected to meet him again. The man chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek. "Is that a new pickup line?" He asked that, which made you feel confused.

You suddenly realised that, no, he isn't the God of Death. He's really Hotaru Haganezuka, and now all you want to do is just close your eyes and wish that when you open them, he's gone.

"Why are you here? I need to go home..."

"Hey, angel. Don't move for a while."

Angel... The word almost made you throw up. You wanted to leave, but your body is too weak to move. Hotaru seemed to notice it, so he placed a hand on your shoulder and heaved a deep sigh.

"For your information, I saw that you almost got hit by a car. I jumped in to save you, but you still hit your head on the ground. Minor injuries only, though. And yes, you're welcome. Tsk..."

He said it with a hint of annoyance in his voice. You gulped, feeling a mixed bag of emotions as you watched him fix the blanket over your body.

"Do you still talk to Tomioka? I'll contact him."

"He'll kill you if he knows it's you."

"Fine then. You're stuck with me."

Sanemi was pacing back and forth at his apartment, feeling worried that you hadn't responded to his messages. He wanted to visit you, but his little brother is sick, and Genya and his other siblings can't focus on taking care of him because he needs to prepare for the exams.

The math teacher tried to contact you again, but you're still unreachable. "For fuck's sake, answer the phone, Y/N!" He muttered under his breath as he tossed his phone on the table.

"Nii-chan, are you okay?"

He immediately hid the frustration in his expression as he looked up at his little brother, who was already awake. Sanemi sat beside him on the bed and checked if his fever was gone. But no...

"Oh Koto-kun. You should rest."

"But you're mad... Are you mad at me, Nii-chan?" The boy asked, which made Sanemi sigh. Of course, he can't be mad at his little brother for being sick. It's not his fault.

"No, Nii-chan's just got a lot on his mind right now. But I'm not mad at you. Never. I want to take care of you, so please rest. Okay?"

"Mmm."

The boy finally closed his eyes again.

While looking at his brother, he can't help but think of you. It's just that he has a bad hunch, and he doesn't like it at all.

"I hope you're okay... Y/N."

—————————————————————–

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒖 𝑯𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒛𝒖𝒌𝒂 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆?

Find out more on the next chapter of 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮!

Thank you so much for reading this. I hope I managed to make you more excited for the next chaps! 🌸

Feel free to reblog, comment or request!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

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ladynaberrie · 11 months

Text

you're walking tall (no need to hide)

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2.3k

Rating: T

You're assigned to the 501st again. Kix hovers.

part 1 part 2 part 3

sfw but mdni pls <3

Sometimes Kix wishes you were assigned to his unit more.

It’s a stupid thing to dream about, certainly not something he should be thinking about when he’s on the precipice of sleep. He knows from chatter you tend to see more generals like Plo Koon and less of the Quinlan Vos types, which, rather unfortunately, includes General Skywalker.

It’s unfortunate because he’s about had it with Senator Amidala’s protocol droid. (Whenever the golden droid drones on and on, Kix finds himself envious of Wolffe, who gets to see you more than he does).

But at the same time, it’s a relief, one less person to keep an eye on. If anything were to happen to you…

Well, there’s no real reason he should feel anything more than normal. He knows that, and he realistically knows he’d be fine, move on, and get to work. It’s war. Another day, another casualty.

Kix’s train of thought derails.

You weren’t made for war, he concludes. Not like him or his millions of vode. His childhood was math, combat, and logic problems that asked him to determine the difference between life and death. You got to follow your passion, and dream of languages and stories. (You probably never had to worry about the consequences of who you kissed).

Kix’s train of thought derails. Again.

He tosses and turns in his bunk. This was going to be a long fucking night.

The next morning is infinitely better. In fact, Kix is elated.

You’re standing at attention next to Rex, and you look as pretty as ever. Your eyes drift over his unit before they land on him. The satisfaction he feels when your eyes stop on him for a second and light up in recognition is embarrassing. It should be studied on Kamino as an example of what can go wrong when a Clone meets a kind and pretty natborn.

He tunes back into Rex, who’s relaying information from the General. The more the Captain goes on, the more effort it takes for Kix to not frown. This planet’s terrain was rough; rocky and steep, full of gnarled roots and obstacles. Not suited for you at all. And on top of that, there's a mountain you all will have to climb.

Fucking typical.

While Kix doesn’t like having to split his brainpower to factor you in, he’s not going to complain about having an excuse to stay close to you.

If you notice the way he’s orbiting you, keeping an eye on you, as you carefully step through especially uneven ground, you keep it to yourself. Kix is grateful for that. He’s already getting enough teasing on the internal commlink, as the transcript so kindly reminds him.

[FIVES: 30 credits Kix fumbles this.

JESSE: You’re on.

ECHO: 50 credits that he specifically tries to make his move while doing medic shit.]

But it seems you’re the one who makes a move first. You fall in step next to him, bumping into him in a friendly manner.

Kix grunts in greeting. The comm lights up as he gets absolutely slandered. He mutes it as Fives demands Jesse’s money.

“You know, you could talk to me instead of just hovering around.” He winces at the surge of activity in the transcript.

“Oh. I apologize, Officer.”

“Now, what has you so focused on me?” you ask in a sing-songy voice. Sing-songy? He's certainly never used that word before...

“Terrain. Worried about you falling,” he says gruffly, face heating up. He can practically hear Fives cackling.

“Oh. That’s very kind of you,” you say graciously, probably to save his pride.

He hums in response, mentally kicking himself. Was he going to need to take a class from Jesse on flirting? He’d never hear the end of it. But if it meant sweeping you off your feet the same way Jesse’s woos his person of the week…

He’d put up with teasing until the day he took his last breath.

The silence draws his attention back to you.

“It’s nice having you back. Million times better than Senator Amidala’s droid,” Kix says quickly, hoping to dispel the odd tension in the air. He’s rewarded by your laugh, and his chest feels warm.

The transcript updates as Jesse goads Fives.

“C-3PO isn’t that bad. Though I will say Commander Wolffe sometimes ignores him if I’m there.” You giggle a little at the memory. Wolffe, huh? Kix frowns to himself, imagining Wolffe standing way too close to you.

“Commander Wolffe may be onto something there…” he trails off. You glance at him from the side, sending him a pleased look that he wished he understood better.

The ground ahead of you two steepens rapidly. It’s nothing for a Jedi or a clone, but an unease settles in Kix’s stomach, eyes flicking down to your feet as you trek alongside him.

The mountain slope isn't completely vertical, and he's grateful for that. He is, however, ungrateful that the local lifeforms built their village at the very top of this peak.

“Well, I know you and Commander Wolffe, are pretty anti-droid, but they have their uses.” He rolls his eyes at that, thankful for his bucket.

“I think having a sentient translator in addition to a protocol droid makes sense. Access to a very large number of languages and automatic translation, paired with creative thinking, context, and interpretation. A decent team,” you finish, nodding to yourself. He would prefer C-3PO with you, as opposed to just the droid. But still.

“You’re smart enough to do that with just a datapad,” Kix argues, taking a large step up the incline. “And some protocol droids are clunky and can’t always move very fast.” You huff, following him up the slope.

Kix slows down a little, eyeing the upcoming terrain, and he has to stop himself from audibly groaning. He just had to be grateful the slope wasn't vertical.

He eyes the cliif warily. It's a short climb with plenty of visible handhelds and ledges before the slope evens out again.

Kix gestures for you to go ahead of him. He’s got a feeling if anything were to happen, it would be here. You huff past him, slowly scaling the mountain.

“A kriffing datapad,” you say. “I guess…” you relent, diverting your brain power to not falling.

It grows quiet again as the majority of the company ascends with ease and continues onto the gentler slope.

Kix’s brows pinch together in annoyance; he somehow missed the fact that there was a fucking tiny cliff they'd have to scale. There must’ve been a better way to go about this. Did General Skywalker and Rex forget you would be with them?

Kix pauses on a relatively stable ledge, keeping an eye on you as you climb ahead. His eyes scan the area you're reaching for.

He notices it before you, but not soon enough, and Kix winces as you grab onto a loose rock. It gives way, and you let out a small scream, as you drop.

Reacting as fast as he can, Kix reaches to grab you. His arms grapple around you, pulling your back tight against him. You’re both upright, with Kix supporting the brunt of your weight.

It’s a somewhat awkward position, resembling a trust fall as opposed to some romantic carry. (Romantic? Kix scoffs at himself) It’s not by any means graceful or elegant, but you’re ok. Maybe a little shaken, but ok.

Keeping you pressed against him, he eyes you carefully, assessing any possible injury you may have sustained. When he reaches your face, he freezes.

You've twisted to face him, and you’re looking at him in a way that makes him inhale sharply. It's a soft and warm look, one that Jesse and Fives are often on the receiving end of. Not him.

Fuck.

It’s at this moment he realizes his arms are still nestled above and below your chest, anchoring you to him. He snaps out of his haze, helping you stand.

“You all right, cyar’ika?” he asks, doing another survey for damage once you’re up. You nod before smiling sheepishly.

“Good thing you kept such a good eye on me," you say gently, hand resting on his plastoid-covered forearm. His ego swells.

Echo’s “PAY UP” in the transcript alerts Kix to the eyes on the two of you from above. He wants to curl around you and hide you away from the rest of his vode.

Based on the way you’re looking at him, Kix begins to think you may want the same thing. And the logical part of his brain is telling him he’s not sure it’s a good thing.

Kix’s doubts follow him all the way back to the star destroyer.

It was one thing when it was just him daydreaming, but now, it may no longer be one-sided.

It was one thing when he would steal glances at you from behind his helmet, but now, he sees you staring at him first.

It’s become something all too real because now there’s hope he’s not alone in this predicament.

Kix is pondering this development as he peels off bits of crusted-over synth flesh away from his arm. It’s been a tense day on The Resolute. At least for him.

Your close contact with him had made him lose focus for the rest of the mission. He's lucky he was the only casualty of his negligence.

He examines where his wound was. The skin color is normal; any internal or external trauma has healed.

“Hi,” you chirp out, eyes widening a little as you enter the med bay. Kix meets your gaze, instincts firing up at the way your voice drops suddenly.

Your body’s stiff, face twisted into a flustered expression he wishes he could appreciate more. Kix tenses a little when he realizes what may have prompted your reaction.

His blacks hang at his waist, leaving the upper half of his body exposed. He watches as your eyes dip down to his pecs before jumping to hover respectfully above his shoulder.

Interesting.

Kix flexes a little, chest expanding in pride.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For, uh, y'know...” you trail off. Your eyes zero in on his bicep, eager for a topic change. “And sorry you tripped. Are you alright?” Fucking hell.

All Kix wants is for a hole to open up in the side of the ship and pull him into the vacuum of space. (You would remain safe in this little morbid fantasy. Space and the Force are able to sense your innate goodness thereby saving you from his fate).

Kix settles on nodding, not wanting to discuss his embarrassing fall at the village. His brothers would never let him forget.

You shuffle forward until you’re right by him, fingers hovering above where the synth flesh had dried. “May I?” you ask.

He nods, bracing his arm for the soft touch of your hand. Your fingers are light as they ghost over his skin; he nearly groans at the faint contact.

Kix’s eyes jump to your face; your mouth's twisted up in a grimace as you closely inspect his arm. He smirks a little at your concern.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, as if he’s trying not to spook you. “I'm alright, cyar'ika. I was just stupid. Distracted because I couldn't help but worry about you all day." You look embarrassed at his minor confession, but then the same soft look you had when he caught you comes back, and Kix's heart thumps heavily.

He wants nothing more than to kiss you, to feel you pressed against his bare skin. Would you look at him like you are now? Like he’s not just CT-6116?

Your hand drifts from his arm to the side of his head. The feeling of your fingers dragging along his scalp makes him shut his eyes and suppress a shiver. Some soldier he is; reduced to a pile of mush the second you touch him.

It tickles slightly, as you trace the patterns of his buzzed hair. But he would never ask you to stop; it feels too nice. The pad of your finger sweeps over his tattoo. His eyes feel heavy as they open, and his chest aches at how close you are.

"Thank you," you whisper again, eyes boring into him as if you're trying to say something else. He really wants to kiss you.

The sound of footsteps echoing towards the med bay wretches him from his own personal paradise.

Kix backs away from you and your wandering hands. He swallows loudly, and your gaze meets the floor as you deal with your own embarrassment. “Anytime, Officer. Please be more careful. The GAR would be worse off without you.” Kix is pretty sure the GAR would be fine without either of you, but he’s hoping you can tell what he wants to say. (He would be worse off without you).

You nod and keep your eyes on the ground until Hardcase enters, drawing your attention. He looks at the two of you, mouth open in surprise.

“I was wondering if you could check something out…” he trails off, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You spring into action, taking the opportunity to flee.

“I’ll leave you to it.” You give Hardcase a warm smile, any nerves you had seemingly evaporating. Before you exit, you look over your shoulder, finally looking at Kix again. “Bye.”

He nods at you in dismissal and tries his best to ignore how your departing gaze fluttering across his chest and biceps makes his codpiece feel too tight. The silence lingers in the air, as he looks at the door, wondering if he should up his chest routine when they're back on Coruscant.

“I can come back later, sir.” Hardcase's lip twitches. "Echo and Jesse are debating what entails "medic shit," and I'd like to weigh in."

“Shut up, Hardcase.”

#kix x reader #kix x you #tcw x reader #tcw x you #star wars x reader #star wars x you #ct 6116 x reader #clone trooper kix x reader

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xnchxntmxnt · 2 years

Note

ok, got it! so, firstly, congratulations. 🎉🥳 you're such an underrated writer and you're unbelievably talented. i hope i get to see you grow even more!

now, for the event, may i have, a fluffy renga x reader + Million Days (Acoustic) feat. Hoang & Claire Ridgely?

thanks in advance, take your time and take care.

thank you so much for the love i really appreciate it <3 and this song is so beautiful!! i love it a lot its on my playlist <3

Million Days

Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity

Characters: Reki Kyan + Langa Hasegawa

Warnings: poly renga. lots of fluff n kisses

Notes: the self indulgence in this is insane ,,, guitarist reki my beloved

gn!reader

Reblogs > likes

You knew full well there were three things Reki Kyan loved more than life itself.

1, skateboarding.

2, you.

3, your and his boyfriend, Langa Hasegawa.

Not necessarily in that order.

However, recently, he’d picked up a new hobby. For the last few months, whenever you visited, Koyomi sat and complained about how she was tired of hearing him slamming the strings of his guitar.

As funny as it was listening to her complain, you were quite curious to hear how all this practice was coming along. Anytime you or Langa asked he brushed it off and changed the subject as fast as possible. You were sure he wasn’t hiding anything because he would talk about it once in a while, but he didn’t seem to want to play anything in front of either of you. You figured he was nervous—not many people could play in front of a crowd, even if it was only the two of you.

Until today, at least.

He invited you over a few days prior, saying he had some sort of surprise. So when you sat on his bed (Langa curled up and laying in your lap), you grinned as he pulled out his guitar.

“You playing something, Reki?” Langa asked, picking up his head slightly.

“Nah, im just gonna make you stare at me while i make no noise,” he said sarcastically, no real venom behind his words.

You scoffed and blew him a kiss from across the room. “Whatcha playing, then? Anything we know?”

“Just something I found online a couple of weeks ago, nothing super special, I think it’s pretty.”

“Hey, don’t do that.” you cut in, shooting him a reassuring look. He had a nasty habit of playing down his interests, so you did all you could to make him feel as special as you and Langa both knew he was. “I’m sure it's great.”

He smiled but didn't say anything, fidgeting and tuning. “Koyomi hates when I do this too loud, it's funny. Gets all sorts of mad because she says it’s ‘the same boring crap over and over’.”

“I mean this in the nicest way possible: your sister is boring because i like your song.”

“Langa, im not playing anything. I’m just tuning.”

“Oh…”

You laughed and kissed Langa’s head. “Idiot.”

He pouted at you, but you knew he wasn't upset. Hard to be upset when he looked so comfortable and you were playing with his hair.

Reki fidgeted with his phone for a minute or so before turning back to the two of you. “You’re not allowed to judge, alright, because its not great.”

“Reki.”

“it’s not wonderful, but im proud og myself and i wanted to show you—”

“Reki.”

“What?”

You smiled at him. “I'm sure it’s amazing, babe.” Langa nodded, reaffirming your statement. “Just play. I won’t look right at you if that would make you less nervous.”

“That would help, actually.”

“Got it.”

You looked away, suddenly finding a very interesting pattern of glow-in-the-dark star stickers you’d seen a million times before. He fidgeted for a minute or two longer before he finally started playing. And then singing.

I don't do this often You caught me off guard All of my friends said you moved out west You tell me stories underneath sun sets Could it be more than just one night? Kiss in the cab ride Head turning left right Get a ticket for two To wherever you choose Drinking some red out of the blue

You weren’t sure if you’d ever heard him sing by himself. If he did, it was always with the radio, and he never cared how he sounded. Instead, now, he sounded nice. Not a perfect, angel-like voice but one that was warm and comforting.

For only playing for a few months, he sounded good. And singing and playing at the same time was harder than doing one or the other, so you had to applaud him for that.

Hey boy Trust my intuitions Always I'm not superstitious I got lucky Stole your heart And it was mine for the taking

He played through the end of the song, letting the strings ring out. Reki refused to look up at you—at first, at least. He set his guitar down and swiped out the app on his phone, before finally turning toward the two of you.

“So…?’

You weren’t sure about Langa, but you knew you had a wide grin on his face. If you were smart before he started playing you would have recorded it and kept it for yourself (and maybe Langa) because the way he played it was a perfect song to fall asleep to.

You held your hand out to him wordlessly, and when he sat next to the two of you on his bed, you grabbed his face and kissed him all over. “That was amazing, sweetheart! You're so talented.”

“Eh, i kinda screwed up my words in the—”

Any other words were lost against your lips. When he started that, you found it was easier to shut him up and then reassure him. “It was wonderful. I mean it.”

He looked to langa for approval as well. He smiled at the two of you and kissed reki’s knuckles. “I really like your voice,” he said stretching upward for a kiss.

He obliged, then laid his head on your shoulder. “I was so nervous to do that,” he sighed, burying his face in your arm. “You two are lucky i love you.”

“Yes, yes we are.”

“Love you too, red.”

“You guys are making me blush, stop it!”

taglist

@sirimirihiro @emswordss @b3tterth4nm3 @otaku-thingz @kodzukoi @tama-jam + @rudolphsboyfriend reki for u luv <3 /p

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asshlyyyy · 2 years

Text

Elvis (Austin!Butler x Reader)

Chapter 6

Everything is starting to pick up and I am all here for it. I want to get these chapters out quick. This isn’t exactly my most popular serious going on... but I love writing it and maybe one day it will get the love it deserves.

This chapter holds a few songs, three in total... but two are the same song just different tempos. I did this because the reader, Haylo, switches how she sings depending on her mood. When she performs its energetic and upbeat. Whenever she’s practicing or just sad... or just down in general... she’ll sing slower.

I hate how this chapter ended... I’m not exactly proud of it... but I hope someone can find enjoyment in it!

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin!Butler x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, spelling and grammatical errors, mentions of sexual abuse/ rape.

Word Count: 3.5k

Songs: Baby, Let’s Play House, I Say A Little Prayer (Connie Talbot Cover), I Say A Little Prayer (Sing 2)

You tapped the pencil against the book as you tried to figure out what to write next. You've been in the car for... quite some time. In the beginning, everyone was talking and whatnot, you mostly kept your mouth shut. You were still kind of upset about getting interrupted. It wasn't Gladys' fault. She didn't know. So, you did what you did best... You wrote your feelings out into a song.

Everyone was pretty much lost in their own thoughts or briefly talking amongst themselves. Well, Vernon and Gladys were talking together. Elvis was focused on the road. He would occasionally sing along to the song that would play on the radio... but you've been quiet for the whole trip so far.

You looked down at your songbook once more and read over the lyrics you currently had written down. It wasn't much, but it gave you enough to know the bases of what the song would be.

You'll stay in my heart and I will love you Forever (Forever), and ever (Ever) We never will part, oh, how I love you Together (Together), together (Together)

It was mostly going to be the chorus. You felt foolish really, writing about your feelings. Well, you've done it before... it felt strange this time. If you went ahead and recorded it... would Elvis know it's about him? God... you hoped not. You hummed the lyrics so often. Your voice was flooded out by the radio that Elvis had on.

That's how it must be to live without you. Would only mean heartbreak for me (Nobody but me)

You started to tap your foot against the ground, creating a tune in your head.

Forever (Ever), and ever (Ever) You'll stay in my heart and I will love you Forever (Forever), and ever (Ever) We never will part, oh, how I love you Together (Together), together (Together) That's how it must be to live without you Would on mean heartbreak for me (Ooh, ooh-hoo)

Well, you got the chorus done, and you were pretty proud of yourself. Then again, you had great inspiration. You turned your head and looked at Elvis softly. His one piece of hair that usually laid against his forward, flew with the wind. You smiled gently at his sight. A feeling so indescribable he made you feel a million things. Was it crazy to say you love him? You turned your attention back to your songbook.

Elvis turned to look at you. It was a quick look, but still... he wanted every chance to glance at you. To see your hair breeze against the wind. To see you angrily push the strands of hair out of your face. Part of him wished that it was just you and him on the road. Going on a trip to the coast or something. He wanted every moment to spend time with you alone... God, what he would give for that. He wanted to have his hand on your thigh. He wanted to feel you. He wanted to make sure you were always there next to him.

As Elvis looked back over to the road, you started to grow frustrated with this song. It’s a goddamn love song and you can’t even get the words together correctly to make it around even remotely good. Trapped in a car for who knows how much longer. The perfect time to write a song. Come on… come on… think… just think about Elvis… think about Elvis. Let the tip hit your paper… and write… you got this… you got this.

The moment I wake up… Before I put on my makeup. I say a little prayer for you. And while I’m combing my hair now. And wondering what dress to wear now (wear now). I say a little prayer for you

Forever (forever), and ever (yeah). You’ll stay in my heart and I will love you. Forever (forever, and ever (ever). We will never part, oh how I love you. Together (together), together (together). That’s how it must be to live without you. Would only mean heartbreak for me (Ooh-hoo)

I run for the bus dear. Bite while riding I think of us, dear (Us, dear). I say a little prayer for you. And at work I just take time. And all through my coffee break time (break time). I say a little prayer for you

Forever (forever), and ever (ever). You'll stay in my heart and I will love you. Forever (Forever), and ever (Ever). We never will part, oh, how I love you. Together (Together), together (Together). That's how it must be to live without you. Would only mean heartbreak for me (Nobody but me). Forever (Ever), and ever (Ever). You'll stay in my heart and I will love you. Forever (Forever), and ever (Ever). We never will part, oh, how I love you. Together (Together), together (Together). That's how it must be to live without you. Would on mean heartbreak for me (Ooh, ooh-hoo)

My darling~

“What are ya writin’ there?” Elvis broke you out of your thoughts. Well, more like scared you out of your thoughts. Which caused you to make a deep dark leaded pencil mark on your paper.

“Elvis,” you let out a sigh and started to erase the mark. You wouldn’t be able to get with of all of it… but maybe… just maybe… you’ll be able to recover what you had JUST WRITTEN.

“Sorry,” he chuckled lightly, “didn’ mean to scare ya, sweetheart.”

“Well you did,” you huffed gently and continued to work on the line. Every so often you would wipe the dusting off the eraser markings out the window.

“Is it a song?”

“Mhm,” you hummed a response.

“Can I hear?” He then asked. You froze in your spot and your face started to get red. You can’t sing it now!? Everything would be ruined. You have to stay in the same room as him! Talk about awkward.

“I-uh… it-it’s not done yet,” you shook your head.

“That’s okay,”

“Oh- but-“ you then turned up the radio louder. “I just absolutely love this song!” You yelled over the music. Elvis rolled his eyes playfully and turned down the volume.

“If ya don’ want to share, ya don’ have to.” Elvis said. You could sense the tone of hurt in his voice. You didn’t want to hurt him… you just didn’t want to hurt what you two had. you nodded slowly and closed your eyes. Now you were the bad guy.

There were a few moments of silence before you felt your songbook being ripped out of your hands. Your eyes widened and you looked over at the culprit who had one hand opened to the page, and his other hand still on the wheel. You reached over for you but Elvis held his elbow out blocking you.

"Elvis! Give it back!"

"Now now, what's so important that ya have to hide it from me, darlin'?"

"Elvis, don't read that." You warned him.

"blah blah blah… blah blah… you'll stay in my heart and I will love you. Forever... and ever..." You covered your face in embarrassment. "We never will part, oh, how I love you. Together, together... That's how it must be to live without you. Would only mean heartbreak for me."

You had no words for how you felt right now. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn't even escape it! Locked in a car with the person you wrote the song about?? It's hard... it's... well it's plain right fucking embarrassing. You wanted to cry if you were being honest. Cry and disappear into a dark room.

"A love song hm? Who for?" Elvis looked over at you and chuckled at your figure. "Must be me if ya so embarrassed."

"I hate you." You muttered and kept your face covered.

"According to this song, you love me."

"How do ya know it's even about you?" You turned to face him. Big mistake, your red face, and watering eyes were a dead giveaway.

"Well, the lyrics, and your face... and voice." You let out a huff and folded your arms against your chest.

"I hope you miss the turn," you rolled your eyes and faced away from him.

"Give me ya pencil," he said and held a hand out towards you. You tossed the pencil his way, tired of his crap already. You heard him scribble down in your songbook.

After a while, your songbook was handed back over to you. You took it and held onto it. You didn't want to look at what he did. Not only out of spite for him, but you also just didn't want to. You were scared to frankly. Somewhere in this book, there was a scribble that said I don't love you and you didn't want to see that. You weren't ready for rejection. You didn't even want to think about rejection at the moment.

"Come on, look at it," Elvis tried to push you. He wanted you to see it. He needed you to see it.

"I don't want to," you mumbled softly.

"Please?" His voice sounded soft and gentle. Almost as a beg for you to read it. You let out a shaky breath and pushed a piece of loose hair behind your hair. You opened the songbook and searched for the page that you were working on. As you found the page you easily found Elvis' handwriting and read it.

My darlin', believe me For me, there is no one but you Please love me true I'm in love with you Answer my prayer, baby Say you'll love me true Answer my prayer, baby

You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how to react. It was quite embarrassing the way you were confessing all considering... You at least imagined it would be out in the fields. Not cooped up in a car with his parents in the back. You ran your thumb over the words and smiled. Not only did he confess, he just helped you write a song. This was a major win-win situation. You bit your bottom lip and closed the book. You looked over at Elvis and smiled.

The rest of the trip wasn't so bad. You guys only had to stop a few times. Mostly bathroom breaks and to fill the tank up, but that was about it. You were all pretty much stuffed up with food thanks to Gladys' breakfast. So, when you arrived at the motel you four were going to stay at, you were more than happy to stretch your legs out.

"I'm going to get us the rooms," Vernon stated.

"I'll go with you," Gladys spoke up. Elvis and you in return nodded your heads. Vernon and Gladys then headed inside as you made your way over to the back of the car. Elvis sunk up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

"Now that they're gone," he said in a mumble against your neck. You let out a breath and felt yourself fall against his touch.

"Elvis..." you said gently.

"Mmm?" he kissed a kiss against your neck softly. You pulled away from him and looked at him.

"I'm not having sex with you." You stated, thinking that was what he wanted.

"I- well now." You laughed at his reaction and started to grab the bags out.

"I want to go slow. Savor these moments." You said gently as Elvis helped pull the bags out.

"There will be plenty of sweet moments. Sex is-"

"Imma stop ya right there. Women are supposed to save themselves for marriage. So, until there's a ring on both our fingers... not happening." You explained with an innocent smile. Elvis let out a groan and shook his head.

Well, you weren't exactly saving yourself. You couldn't... You looked around at your surroundings and found yourself staring off into the distance. Truth be told... you hated sex, and you had every right to. Sure, you couldn't pin every bad moment on that one time... but that one time... turned into many times.

Those nights you laid in bed, tears on your face... You felt used... like a dirty rag left in her bed to rot. You'll spend hours in the bath trying to clean off his touch. It never worked, his touch was always there, well... until Elvis.

"All right, I have the keys," Vernon spoke up as he came over to the two of you. "We're in room 205, and you got 208."

"Thanks, daddy," Elvis took the key out of his hand. "I'll take your bags up to your room."

"You don't have to do that," Vernon said looking at his son. Elvis just shrugged and went ahead with it anyways. You knew he was doing it as a distraction. He wasn't to perform till tomorrow night and he was already nervous.

"He's just nervous is all," you sent Vernon a small smile.

"I appreciate you being here, Y/n. He probably would've lost it by now." Vernon said to you, a small smile on his face.

"Oh I don't doubt it," you chuckled, "but he would've been okay."

"Maybe he would've... but you're making it easier." You smiled at yourself and felt your face heat up. You shook your head and picked up your bag along with Elvis'.

"I'm going to take our bags up." You told them and started to walk up to your room. Were you ready for this? Think about it... Y-you didn't... You-

"Elvis, hey, look at me." You placed your hands on his arms. His breath was shaky, he was shaky. He was already sweating from the nerves he was experiencing. He lifted his head and his blue eyes soon found yours.

"There you are," you smiled gently and moved your hands up to his neck, and soon his face. You caressed his face gently.

"You are going to kill it out there. You have your fans watching you." You said softly. Elvis looked at you, confused... nervous... the whole nine yards.

"What fans?" He asked. He mostly did have a point. No one knew what Elvis Presley looked like. They knew his voice and that was about it. Nothing more... nothing less.

"Your parents, me... Jesse." Elvis sucked in a breath and leaned his head down on your shoulder. You rubbed his back gently.

"I'm so funkin' scared." He mumbled out.

"Once you start playing, you'll know what to do." You said gently and kissed his cheek. Elvis nodded against your neck and pulled away a bit afterward.

"What would I do without ya," he smirked gently.

"Shit your pants," you teased gently. Elvis rolled his eyes playfully and walked past you, making sure to nudge his arm into you.

"Rude," you gasped lightly. He chuckled and grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips.

"Always." he placed a kiss upon it.

"All right, let's just get going." you shook your head. The two of you walked back into the building.

"He's a young singer from Memphis, Tennessee. Got a song out on the Sun label. It's all over the radio. Give him a warm Hayride welcome to a Mr. Elvis Presley." The announcer said. Man, you really should've brought your cowboy hat and boots. Now that... would've been a statement piece but god- nothing would stand out more than Elvis.

His pretty in pink Beale Street suit. When you first watched him pull it out of his bag you loudly gasped. To which, Elvis laughed at your reaction. You've never seen anything like it before. Most guys refused to wear pink in fear of appearing too feminine... but Elvis... he went all out. Not to mention the black lacey button-up. He knew how to dress.

"WOOO!" You smiled and clapped your hands. A wide smile on your face. You looked next to you and spotted the guy that was on before him.

"Sorry," you softly apologized and looked back out towards the boys.

"That ya, boyfriend?" He asked. You chuckled and shook your head. Well, you two weren't in a relationship. He didn't exactly ask you out either... so... really... you had no idea what you two were.

"No, just a really good friend." You smiled and kept your eyes on Elvis. You could see his hand still shaking.

"Elvis, how are you this evening?" The announcer asked him.

"Just fine, how you, sir?" Elvis asked back before the man can finish speaking. His southern gentleman flourished.

"Are you all geared up with your band there to..."

"I'm all geared up." He nodded, yet again answering before the announcer finished. It was his nerves doing that.

"...let us hear your songs?"

"Uh... well, I'd like to say how happy we are to be down here. It's a real honor for us to be... Get a chance to appear on the Louisiana Hayride. We're gonna do a song for you we got on Sun Records. Uh... You got anything else to say, sir?" Elvis turned his head to look at the announcer.

"No. I'm Ready" The announcer replied with a shake of his head.

"It goes... It goes something like this..." He said softly and closed his eyes.

"Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby" He started to sing lightly. The feedback from the mic absolutely screwed him up with the high pitch screech. "Baby, baby, baby., baby, baby, baby."

Baby, Let's Play House was a favorite of yours. Then again... all of his songs were your favorite... His voice is just... It blended so well and worked with everything he would sing. It didn't matter the genre... he could rock it.

"Come back, baby I wanna play house with you."

"Get a haircut, fairy!" Laughter erupted in the room. As if he was fueled by such a comment, he took in a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"Well! you may go to college You may go to school You may have a pink Cadillac But don't you be nobody's fool."

Before you knew what was happening, everything was going in slow motion... Girls were screaming and you well... You didn't know how to feel. You've heard him sing but... this man could move... well... it was all just a blur. You could barely hear Hank Snow complain about the way Elvis was moving.

The curtain closed and Elvis just stood on stage. He didn't believe what had just happened and honestly... you were the same way. You didn't even move towards him at first until Scotty and Bill's voice broke you out of thought. You shook your head and went out to him. You placed your hand on his arm and smiled.

"That was amazing, Elvis." You complimented. He looked at you and smiled. "Thank you, almost got dead there but," he chuckled and took off the strap of his guitar, pulling it over his head.

"Yeah," you chuckled lightly and shook your head. You definitely knew what he was talking about... totally... You were totally weren't lost in thought about... some things... You did not want to admit anything, but... boy he made you feel things no one has ever made you feel before.

"Hope you can replace your jacket," you said as you two walked off to the dressing room.

"I hope so too, I liked that suit." Elvis chuckled and threw an arm around your shoulders.

"You looked good. All those girls agree as well." You looked up at him. He smiled softly and shook his head.

"Eh, Bill and Scotty think they only liked my wigglin'."

"I don't blame them... that was something else." You commented and plopped down on the couch when you got back to the dressing room.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without you," Elvis admitted and put his guitar down on the table. You looked at him confused. What did you do? If anything you just stood there and looked pretty.

"I didn't do anything. I just stood on the sidelines." You replied. He shook his head and sat down next to you. He was close... unbelievable close... you two could almost kiss. Which you really wanted to.

"You did more than you think, darlin'." He pressed a kiss against your cheek. You sucked in a breath and heard the door open. You pulled away from Elvis like you two were doing something wrong.

You saw his parents walk in and everything went into a blur. You were lost in your thoughts and didn't care too much about Gladys complaining about how inappropriate those girls were acting... and how they could've killed her booby. Part of you wished you were out in the crowd at the front. Having him lean down towards you... grab your face...

"Haylo."

"Hm?" You looked around confused. You didn't even know who called your name.

"You okay? You look a bit pale, dear. Are you getting sick?" Gladys spoke to you. Oh God... was it showing? You felt your face heat up.

"Oh n-no sorry I- I'm just lost in thought is all..." You picked at the buttons on your shirt.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything, just wanted to speak to the boy." A new voice entered the room.

Want to join my taglist? // Let me know If I spelt any wrong! Everyone is Tagged correctly this time. There were a good amount of people I couldn’t tag, so please let me know if something is wrong.

Taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s, @mommy-maia, @yagirlalexx, @slutforblueeyes, @alligator-person, @diorxmimi, @anangelwhodidntfall, @pumkiinpasties, @djconde58, @starryhazee, @21bruhs, @girlblogger2002, @dollfaceyourfear, @smbonilla2002, @Homebodybirkin2003, @apparently-sunshine, @dark-as-love, @pandora-journey, @hsstylesrings, @jeonggukschris, @4everrmore, @bewitched-tales, @thelaziest10, @butlersluvbot, @curatedbyemily, @lovingly-unlovingme, @starlight-jpg, @omegellenlouise, @gyomei-tiddies, @Chlobug07, @wandawiccan60, @re3kin, @Itzjira18, @passengerjett, @neepo, @vane28282, @emilykolchivans, @gothantoinette, @gruffle1, @aradevil, @ilovemuppets, @hangmanswhore, @theinvibislecapricorn, @hariestyles1, @annamarie16, @holliemahady, @misacc08, @Brighteyesscum, @marchingicenotes7, @callthedarknessdown, @domaniquessidehoe, @gay-af-satan, @skinnypantsmcgee, @sassyblazecloud, @lovelyney, @lordandmistress, @Sharkslayersblog, @billysway, @nuo0n, @coldonexx, @adoreyouusugar, @aliciaelle47, @kh1898, @danitheedanimal, @raefoxiegirl, @cobra-kaii, @rylee-durhxm, @bob-the-tomato, @crabat-the-queen, @naveyelise, @austinbutlersgirlfriend, @iluvnerds69, @hopefulinlove, @aradevil, @Tylerdurdenisme, @laperceval, @xcallmetaniax, @londonalozzy, @mslizziesblog, @rosemochaaesthetic-blog, @bxbylexi23, @gloomynigvts, @persephones-blood-iris, @milaa24, @randompointlessbeauty, @auds02, @BubblyYork, @nora-nexus-34, @Rqseycheeks, @jazmin2211, @kittenlittle24, @Rqseycheeks, @moonbird1507, @bobthefishiesworld, @cevans-winchester, @luckyevansstan, @noorreads, @idc123sworld, @normatural

#austin butler elvis #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader

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summerofsmiles · 2 years

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I’m so traumatized from watching Led Zeppelin at live aid. I love Led Zeppelin but I get so angry watching that concert. I also feel bad for jonesy because he was trying to keep it all together. It’s like when you’re the only one in the group that put the work in the project and you have to deal with your group presenting horribly. I know that sorta doesn’t make sense because the live aid concert was in front of millions of people. But with jonesy he was stuck and had to deal with Robert and Jimmy 😭.

Live aid is . . . I don’t even have words to describe how awful it is. First year of college, my roommate and I used to watch clips of live aid whenever we were struggling with a project or felt like bad musicians so we could remind ourselves that at least we don’t sound that bad.

I’ve heard so many reasons (mostly from Jimmy) why it was bad. Phil Collins (who was not spectacular by any means, but definitely did not derail the whole set) messed it up, The monitors weren’t working so they couldn’t hear themselves, Robert’s voice was shot from touring, they didn’t get time to rehearse, the guitar tech messed up the tuning, Robert and Jimmy had a huge fight before and Jimmy was rattled so he didn’t play well etc.

But you are so right about the group project thing. I feel like in general, JPJ is always right on the money, no matter what was going on (I can only recount one time from all the bootlegs I’ve listened to where he fucked up and it was Kashmir in Zurich 1980 where JPJ forgot to take the bridge, but I’m still not entirely sure who messed that up because at one point everyone forgot to play the breakdown except JPJ, so it seemed like everyone was just a little off that day, but this is irrelevant). Anyway, Jonesy was rock solid as usual, even with just one hour of rehearsal. And I can’t imagine how humiliating it would be to stand up there, having hundreds of thousands of people watching, and just knowing that you’re the only one who is actually trying and actually gives a fuck. I honestly think JPJ saved that set, which is funny since he wasn’t even supposed to be invited, initially.

That must be so incredibly frustrating to know that you were the one who was always right on and keeping everything together when everyone else was floundering, and to still be left out of reunions and projects and talked about like you were the least relevant. Jonesy really is a better person than I am because If I had been treated like that, I would’ve said a lot more than “thank you for finally remembering my phone number.”

Like George said about the Beatles and John and Paul, though, I think Robert and Jimmy were often in their own little robertjimmy world, and before live aid, that’s what they were doing when they were having their little ‘I’ve moved on and I’m a solo artist now’ ‘no, my band and my power ballad will always be the defining moment of your career’ pissing match and clearly were so wrapped up in their own shit, they couldn’t be bothered to come together and make a decent setlist they both agreed on, practice it diligently and performing it well. So obviously this fight led to Robert singing badly because nobody gives 100% doing something they don’t want to do, and Jimmy playing badly because he was rattled by the fight so we, the audience, were left with a laughable performance.

But hey, no matter how embarrassingly awful it is, at least we now have hilarious footage of the great Jimmy Page v Mic Stand war of 1985!

#led zeppelin #jimmy page #robert plant #john paul jones #live aid #asks

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lunati0ns · 2 years

Text

of one mind liveblog pt. 1

i saw someone putting all of their new acofaf reactions in one big post instead of a million small ones so im doing that instead ok? ok

EPITHETS!!!!!!

THE STATUESQUE.. theyre so handsome. so princely. so classically romantic. im proud of them

the formidable >:} so cool my dad so cool

THE TRUE. cute. haaaah it rhymes and also makes me teary. i love them so extremely much

oscar out here starting rumors SPECIFICALLY to make hob angry. why. just so rue can see him growl and make them blush? HM?

"and who started that rumor." "[immediately] i don't know." "....." "....... it was me ;}"

love that lou and emily are here SPECIFICALLY to make more drama i appreciate their roles so much. what would we do without them

WHAAAAT!!! HOB!!! WHAAAAT?! WHAT! WHAT! HOB?! MY GOD MAN. HOOOOOB?! oh my god he doesnt know... he has no way of knowing... OH MY GOD!!!! HOW CAN WE COME BACK FROM THIS BATTLEMASTER OF CEREMONIES!!!! oh hes not apart of it. dear god. AUUUUGH!!

brennan: [makes a emotions grenade] [hands it to the goblins] ok pull the pin

RAISES MY EYEBROW THE ANDHERA RUMORS? ',:0?! what does it mean what does it all mean what will be the implications of this. omg.

dont remind me we only have five episodes left PAIN

hob kill rumor? KILLS ANDHERA'S BAD RUMORS :( I LOVE THEM?! AND FUCKS UP HIS SISTERS REP AHAAAAA!!! goblin unseelie ALLIANCE!!!

epistolary phase. kicks my feet on my bed lovingly. literally everyone whos ever read my shit knows im a WHORE for these tropes,

illusory script letters ',:}}}}}} ;}}} ALVEN TIME. FIRST NAMES! i fan myself. chooch time. wow a sext. SQUAK'S A BOTTOM, CONFIRMED!!!! inspiration deserved

everytime hob writes a letter im like [heavy breathing] TO RUE? and every time its not. pain

oh squak's in trouble lol lmao lol lmao l--

OH A BEES IN MY SKIRT AND I LIKE IT

SQUAK... because he is LOWBORN. DEAR GOD. JEEEEEEZUS LOU.

STOP. NO. STOP. CHIRP. NAUR! ST. NO. STOP. QUIT IT NOW. STOP THIS oh okay its fine. oh my fucking god i thought she would pretend like it was a note from hob. im still throwing up though

binx letters :) :) binx binx<3

oh they Brought the goblin pagoda. thats cute. they built it all in ten minutes in a looney tunes tasmania devil style whirlwind dirt blur

[suddenly stricken by terrible realization] "oh grandpa's here. grandpa dog."

EUGH HE TALKS

:D hob and binx :D!

its literally so sad how binx has no attendants. no ones taking care of her...

HOBS SO WEIRD AND INTIMIDATING. I LOVE HIM

oh my god we're in for such a dynamic with hob and binx ohoohoohOO

SENDING FROM FUCKING REAL GWYN?! WHAT?! GIRL WHAT WAS TH oh 25 word limit. you scared the BITCH OUTTA ME!!

I LOOOOVE binxs moth wing liminal space magic way too much. tickles me. im teeheeing

omg is rue going to go to the planning meeting as an owlbear... omg they'll be so huge sitting at a little table delicately drinking tea...

i love how whenever oscar dots a ps at the end of a letter the ENTIRE TABLE gasps now

im scared for rue w this meeting... theyre so vulnerable after their reveal... are they even bringing an ally... what if they get pranked :(

UNTIL THE TIDE HAS RECEDED THAT YOU SEE THE WONDERS THAT WERE THERE THE WHOLE TIME? STOP... M'HEART FLUTTERS... hes SO???? I DONT EVEN LIKE MEN. HES SO GOOD AT THIS AND SO STUPID

NOT THEIR FUCK UP LETTER TO CHIRP. AAAAAAAAH ITS ALL SHENANIGANS ALL THE TIME FUCK SHIT!!! GIRL HEEEEELP

FUCKING GRANDFATHER?!?!

IM ALREADY ENGAGED. WALK IT BACK.

she was courting me.... squak getting girlbossed? THEYRE IN AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP. WAH WAH! HE DOESNT LOVE HER. IM DEEPLY BETRAYED. HES SHOPPING AROUND! GIVE HER TO ME INSTEoh my god? SHES MARRIED??!!?!?

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!??!?!

THE TWISTS!!! THE TWISTS AND TURNS!!!!!

YOU HAVE A CHIIIIILD?!??!?!

SHES HALF FUCKING MORTAL. OH MY GOOOOOD. HIS-- OH MY GOOOOD? YOU STUPID-- WHAAAAAT!!! THATS WHY SHES A KENKU!!!!!!

WELL NOW WE HAVE TO KILL THE BUTLER. IM SO GLAD ME AND EMILY HAD THE SAME THOUGHT. THAT DUMB DOUBLE CROSSING TRAITOR BITCH

oh hes just stupid. or is he. shoots him with insights beam. you looked like such a SNITCH right then bub

im sorry that i forced you to back it up. im sorry you were throwing major ass without your consent

UUGUH THE MUSIC. I LOVE. VIOLIIIIIIIINS!!!!!!

wah wah keeping each others secrets... theyre family...

SHES IN LOOOOOOOVE!!! SHE MATES FOR LIFE!!!

chirp matchmaker moment? chirp ENGINEERS BATTLEMASTER OF CEREMONIES MOMENT?

is that their name... i like it... bird family so CUUUUTE. i enjoy everything about your person because they make you happy..

hob: [forced polite chortles] anyways,

brennan's hob voice is so cool but has the capacity to be so silly too. so growly. the gravitas! i like it

petrified with terror at hob's guard dog vibes. feel like a mouse under a flashlight beam. WHO IS HE TALKING ABOOOOOUT!!!!!

oh my god is binx going to bring rue as their second. :deadjulian:

salt goblin: well. youre an orphan. so

binx @ social situation: i get it. DEFINITELY. I GET IT! [doesn't get it]

YAAAAAAAS BINX RUE HOB ANDHERA IN THE SAME ROOOOOOOM!!!!!

we're in rue segment wheres wuvvy please please please PLEASE,

i loooove the cousins constant running commentary

ohh is binx an arcane trickster.. wait thats so cute... I CHECKED THE WIKI SHE IS. WAAAAH! only the tiniest bit of magic :(

"are you flirting with me?" "no im not. sir?"

SOMEONES GOTTA FUCK A SALT GOBLIN

"my dear your WINGS ARE SHOWING?" what a difference in genres. binxs in a comedy and rues in a period drama. theyre so cute

will rue WILLINGLY GO TO THIS MEETING?! WITH HOB?!

BINX AND RUE I THINK YOURE MY BEST FRIEND THEYRE BEST FRIENDS!!!!!!!! THEY MET A WEEK AGO. BINX YOU IMPRINTED ON THE FIRST PRETTY OWLBEAR YOU SAW LIKE A LITTLE DUCKLING

we've gotta start killing people in this campaign guys. i love you ms axford

pov rue eats the salt goblin

IT WOULDVE BEEN SO CUTE IF RUE HAD ROLLED A 1 ON INTIMIDATION THOUGH. FUCK. but i like that they're scary

oh my gosh theyre best FRIIIIEEENDS

you have to KILL this goblin

rue literally debby ryaning their feathers at hob's mention. cmon. youre GAY

oscar's nails are pretty

college au where rues a popular senior and they scruff binx whos like a homeless sophmore and are like Youre Coming Home With Me. when they graduate with a degree in fucking idk a dynamite double of fashion and business law they move into an apartment and force binx to live on their couch because they like her (and also because she's Homeless. and an Orphan)

SEEING HIM MAKES OYU SWEATY... binx wiping their forehead. the fuck. i love them

omg binx with the good crush advice... SLEEPOVER VIBES

STOOOOP RUE YOU'LL KILL HIM HE'LL DIE!!! ',:3 but do it

SQUAK SCOOBY DOO RUNNING INTO THE KITCHEN. THE APPLE JUICE, ITS DEEP. ITS DEEP UNDERNEATH TH--

ANDHERA ZONE OF TRUTH. SHE FAAAILS!!!

ANDHERA BECOMES IN TEXT CANONICALLY ASEXUAL CONFIRMED MOMENT??

NO FUCKING WAY. MY STOMACH FUCKING SWOOPED. RUSH OF WARMTH. DEEPLY. NO WAY NO FUCKING WAAAY. OH MY GOOOOD? I THOUGHT SHE W. I THOUGHT SHE'D SAY NO. CHIRP???? WHERE AM I. OH MY GOOOD? im so fucking twisted at the TOWERS

JESUS CHRIIIIST. AUNTIE AND UNCLE. DISPEL MAGIC

wobble day drinking. king

FAKE DATING??!?! i need them to be in a polycule i can't take this

wuh oh cousins icarus fall imminent. the wax is melting bros

chirps so fucking tired bro

NO DONT MOVE ON GIRL WHAT WHAT WAS THAT!!!

omg... binx rue andhera hob in the same room.... bites my hands

not me tearing up over andhera hob real true friendship

stop... rue's so gentle with her... OH MY GOD THE BEST OF FRIENDS...

okay im running out of characters i cant shut up. im making a second part

#acofaf spoilers #acofaf #liveblogs #void.txt

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frankmillerturnonyourlocation · 7 months

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All the Halloween asks for whomever needs more attention >:))

I was holding onto this for a WHILE thank you for asking!!!!

I was deliberating about who to talk about but I'm thinking a lot about Henry. I'll do Henry <3

now the cool thing about not having seen all of the source material is that I'm pretty sure I'll be Making Some of This Stuff Up. but all of this is made up so it's chill, right?

do you & your f/o decorate your house? if you have an idea of what it looks like, show us!

Okay so the Man Cave has like five of the saddest little decorations hung up like halfway through the month, UNLESS Schwoz is given the go ahead to take over decoration, which Ray would rarely do. But then it looks nice. And they'd like, change the LEDs to be exclusively orange or purple for the month. Charlotte plays like, classic Halloween music over the speakers whenever she gets the chance, like real Spooky Scary Skeletons stuff, the good tunes. Usually when Ray's not home. Junk N Stuff does not get trick or treaters.

At my little apartment, I like string lights, little paper decorations I make myself and tape up, and like, maybe some sweet little vermont country store-type pumpkin or soft fabric witch doll that I saw at an Aldi or something and felt my heart breaking at the idea of not taking it home. This Em would like scented candles, I think, even if they forget to light them at home. Henry has bigger, bolder ideas, a real fake-cobweb-and-caution-tape-type decorator when he's excited about the space and the freedom it stands for. He helps me decorate c:

2. is your f/o from a horror movie/game/series? if not, would you make an AU where they were (like a vampire AU or something similar)?

Henry would make a spectacular vampire thrall. Ray as the vampire, Henry as the human-for-now-question-mark servant running errands and doing his dirty work and getting all tangled up in centuries-old drama with extremely dangerous figures. Servitude, power, loyalty, all of those dynamics. It'd be fun.

3. does your f/o even like halloween, or do they like on of the other holidays?

Yeah, he's down! The vibes are good, and while it's not his favorite holiday, it's way more low-stakes than some of the other holidays. He's a low-effort costume kinda guy and likes the freedom of being able to bounce from a party if he needs to. Like, something like Christmas, that's sooo much prep work and then he's locked into high-importance family traditions for like hours at a time. And he's never not had to worry the entire time about coming up with a lie that will let him leave Christmas morning to go to work. Halloween's easy-peasy. He's good at wearing costumes.

4. what would be your f/o's favorite horror/halloween themed film?

He definitely strikes me as a Jason guy looool. Big, powerful, unstoppable, iconic. Not as agitating as Freddy or Chuckie, just a little bit cooler than Michael (in his opinion. I still haven't seen Halloween, so i can't speak on that :P). But I do think he'd like slashers. I think one of the Friday the 13ths was one of the first horror movies he chose to watch, so he kind of latched onto the franchise young as a badge of honor. There's a million of them. They don't have to be good. He takes Manhattan. Come on.

5. what is your f/o's costume this year? tell us yours too!

Oh my GOD we go as the two newscasters. Everybody in Swellview would recognize it immediately we would have a couple scripts to bounce back and forth to really nail it that would be so fucking funny. I want to write that nowwww

6. do you and your f/o attend any parties/festivals/other events? this can be either for halloween or just for celebrating the fall season!!

ohhh yeah I would absolutely love to... there's so much of that stuff that I haven't gotten to do from an adult's angle. This SI is a little more, ehhh, cultured? experienced? than irl me, but when they've previously gone to events like this, it's been with a purpose, as either an trust-building fake-date with a mark or as an intel-gathering solo outing. Or, sometimes, a solitary, quiet, autonomy-affirming outing. So going to anything with Henry– a pumpkin patch, a haunted house, a cider tasting?– like, just for us, On Purpose, that has the opportunity to be really... weird. And special. Em would go tentatively and awkwardly nuts for that kind of thing. (Henry would think that was awesome.)

7. what's your f/o's favorite candy? are they the type to share or keep it all for themselves?

SKITTLES BOY. SOUR SKITTLES BOY. What else does he like probably something weird like Baby Ruths. Prefers milky ways to snickers but doesn't like three musketeers, somehow. Likes Twix, which is the right opinion, but has an opinion on the sides of it and im like dude stop engaging with the marketing scam. Man I should probably be thinking of this in terms of silly fake Swellview candies but I want to think about real candies. He doesn't actually really like the Lil Hugs juice barrels but covets them anyway. He and Piper would always fight over colors, especially when they went trick-or-treating together. Definitely fruit-flavored over chocolate, so we usually fit together nicely in that regard.

8. if your f/o is from a series that has a special halloween episode, please tell us about it and how your s/i fits into it!

Okay so the show DOES and I've only seen one and a half of them. The season 5 one was funny and ridiculous and gave us a canon idea of what songs Ray thinks are cool. I watched half of the season 1 halloween episode, and I KNOW they did a stranger things parody at some point, but my SI wouldn't be around that early, so that's fine! They would be ALL FUCKING OVER trying to tell Henry a story that would scare him. They'd probably cross some kind of content line and the story they'd tell would be an embellished real story and they'd get a kind of "stop, that's not scary, that's messed up. and very sad." so they'd sit back so the episode could go onto the next skit c:

9. freebie question if you want to say anything else about how you and your beloved spend the season!

...I would really want to help give out candy in his parents' neighborhood. I would very cautiously ask him if we could. Picking the candy, gushing over kids' costumes, just sitting on the porch with him... that would be so, so nice.

#thank you again!!!! happy halloween!!!!!! :D #bubble blowin double babies #ask

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cophene · 1 year

Text

006 || ☆ ⁺ « SPARE A BIT OF SWEET TALK.

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pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.2k+

★˚⋆ EVEN THOUGH YOU KNEW IT would be there, you couldn’t help patting your pocket to make sure the card with your elector was inside. Anything stored inside Party Rock Anthem’s cards were undetectable to scanners and sensors and the like. It made bringing weapons and contraband into places a breeze, and escaping with diamond necklaces and gold cigarillo cases downright fun. Perhaps the only downside was that any damage sustained by the card would also translate to the object on it. If you dented this card with the elector, the elector would get dented as well. You were also the only person who could retrieve things from your cards, so if anything ever happened, your crew would lose everything Party Rock Anthem stored.

Huh. That was kinda dangerous. Maybe you shouldn’t be keeping so much stuff then. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d lost something because you’d forgotten about it. You’d held onto tons of accessories and trinkets for Trish, only for them to disappear because your brain wouldn’t remember them.

It wasn’t like you would ever forget a diamond-studded cricket ball or your own gun, though, so that was what mattered.

You lowered your cap over your eyes as two women stepped onto the mag belt ahead of you. They chattered loudly; long, semi-transparent plastic skirts flapping at their ankles. You couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, staccato bursts escaping their mouths.

“It’s literally just a turtle. I don’t know why everyone’s getting so hot and bothered by it.”

“It’s worth, like, thousands of creds.”

“Well, if that Lady was going to buy it, why didn’t she? Why is she raising a stink when they were going to sell it anyway?”

“Flack if I know. Passione should sell that turtle to me. I could pay generously, if you know what I mean.”

“That is literally so gross but so true. My mom thinks I’m obsessed with them. Whenever they come up on the news? Stars, just end me.”

“The captain is so cute. They’re my favourite after the pilot. They must all be so flacking rich. If they asked me to join the crew, I’d leap.”

You had to pinch yourself to keep from laughing. These girls were cute. You wondered how they would react if they knew the captain of the Passione was standing just a few feet away. Mista’s already gargantuan ego would burst if he heard this.

Such underhanded fame had been irritating in the beginning. As your crew began to catch the attention of the media and more and more people began recognizing your faces, it seemed like pulling off jobs would become impossible. It wouldn’t be until after that you started to use the Passione’s notoriety to your advantage, throwing in false leads and leaning on the support of sympathetic citizens. So called “outlaws” had always been appealing to the public. Challenging the status quo and upstaging the rich were things all average schmucks across the galaxy secretly wished for. Your crew was sticking up a middle finger to the rich on their behalf, and so of course they had to like you a little bit.

The girls’ chatter receded to the back of your mind. Your gaze slid to the ship slots on either side of you, admiring the shine of the newer ship models. The Passione had looked like that once. You had been obsessed with keeping her that way, but at some point, the daily polishes and tune-ups slid down the priorities. The guilt just wouldn’t stop coming, wouldn’t it? The Passione was pretty much a member of the crew herself, and look how beaten you’d allowed her to become. It was a fitting metaphor for the state of your other crew members too, and how great of a captain you were.

Sometimes you wondered why your ragtag team didn’t just leave, go their separate ways. The luxury that might have accompanied joining your crew was long gone. These days it was all near-misses and cranky nobles and barely enough credits for food.

How the mighty and all that.

“Excuse me, ladies. May I ask you a few questions?”

You looked up at the new male voice and immediately averted your gaze. As surreptitiously as you could, you backed away from the two girls, bracing a hand against the wall and slipping into a side entryway as you passed it. The little corridor it led into was used to weave between slots on the Ferry and for emergency evacuations. Not wasting a second, you quick-footed along the space, skipping over mag belts to cut through the Ferry using the corridor as a shortcut.

Galactic Authority uniforms were annoyingly conspicuous. In an era where fashion was outrageous and aggressive, the GA’s were still using the uniforms they’d come up with during the institution's conception over a century ago. Common officers wore black jackets, pants and boots, with a matching military beret decorated with an eight-pointed star. The edges of the jacket and cuffs were done in white. Perhaps the only modern touch were the cute little star buttons securing the jacket and the Elector holster at their thigh. (Trish’s words, not yours.) GA’s moved through crowds like metal people—stiff and indomitable. Fear didn’t knife your heart when you saw these guys anymore. Mostly it was just impatience mixed in irritation that they were still trying to catch you.

You quickened your pace, leaping over one last mag belt onto the escalators leading up to the Ferry master’s office. This was probably what Narancia’s jumbled message had been about. He had been caught up by GA’s. It was easy enough to worm your way out of their grip those times they got close, but Narancia couldn’t lie for flack. His pretty purple eyes would give away everything.

You shoved your jumpsuit sleeves up to your elbows, baring the scar down your arm, and twisted your cap at a rakish angle. As you passed through the doors of the office, your eyes darted around, hoping you would find one.

There.

A squat little cleaning bot was polishing at a stubborn spot in the corner, its little brush-arms whirring. You grabbed it, saying a silent apology before bashing it hard against the wall. It let out a pathetic beep and you smashed it again for good measure. When you turned it around, its display was cracked. Its glowing blue eyes flickered, almost as though it were blinking at you in indignation. Manhandling it farther, your fingers worked at its back panel, getting it open and flicking the switch over to Severe Cleaning.

Sorry, little guy.

You tucked the cleaning bot under your arm, making a beeline for the Ferry’s front desk. As you feared, Narancia was leaning against it a little too casually, putting up a front for the GA officer questioning him.

No. Not just any officer.

Flack, Narancia. You just had to stick around.

“I been damn-near looking through this entire ship tryna find you.” You exaggerated your Lower Space accent so that it was practically a twang. You muscled into the space between Narancia and the officer, pretending not to notice the GA. “Look at this flacking piece of junk you lugged in. I told you it wasn’t good enough to use!”

Narancia widened his eyes at you, relief evident on his face. “Well, I’m sorry it don’t work,” he said, sharpening his accent as well. “Had to make do, you feel?” At least he’d remembered to disguise himself, hiding his dark hair under a cap and wearing a pair of dark-tinted eyeglasses.

“Shoulda paid a little more attention, huh?” you said pointedly.

“Well, I knew you’d come around eventually.”

The officer cleared his throat, the way you’d known he would. At this point, you could read Inspector Assiwpe like a holopad.

Calling him Inspector Asswipe was doing him a disservice. It was too spiteful, too vulgar a name for the man standing in front of you. Which was exactly why you and the crew used it. If you went around calling him “Inspector Leone Abbacchio” you might actually start respecting the guy, and you couldn’t have that.

He looked good today, you had to admit that. He filled out his uniform nicely—his a little fancier than the lackeys. A belt cinched his waist over the uniform jacket, the GA’s crest its buckle. A band of white ran down either of his pant legs, flaring in wide ribbon ends just above the top of his polished boots. A black overcoat and scarf completed the ensemble, along with a silver earring that glinted in one of his ears. You could just make out the outline of his shoulder holster underneath his coat—just like one of Mista’s. You knew it looked like Mista’s because, well, Abbacchio was the one he had stolen it from.

Abbacchio’s eyes flashed when he met your gaze, and judging by the way his purple-tinted lips tightened just a fraction, your maintenance crew disguise wasn’t quite working on him.

Not that you gave a flack. Bullshitting Abbacchio was half the fun of being a space thief.

You widen your eyes as if only just now noticing Inspector Asswipe. “Gah! A real GA! What’s going on here?!”

“Do you work on the Ferry?” he asked curtly.

“Sure do! Been here since I was a kid!”

Abbacchio narrowed his eyes. You could tell your amped-up accent was grating at his nerves. “I’m Inspector Leone Abbacchio from the Galactic Authorities. A dangerous crew of space thieves has been reported boarding the Ferry. I’m here under orders to question the personnel on board.”

“Space thieves?! On the Ferry? Never!”

“I should think so. Regardless, I need both of you to answer questions. It would seem your friend here doesn’t remember when you started working here.”

Narancia smiled sheepishly. “Nine, ten years. It’s all the same, isn’t it, Inspector?”

“Perhaps. Except you told me that you’re nineteen. If you started work ten years ago, you would’ve seven years under minimum work age.”

Narancia’s smile went brittle. You caught colour flushing the back of his neck. Catching the crook of Narancia’s arm, you made sure to pinch him before pulling him back. “Aw, you don’t need to question us, Inspector,” you drawled. “We’ve just been cleaning, same as always. I actually really need my mate over here to help me with this bot so we don’t get canned.”

“What is your name?” Abbacchio said. “I’d like to see your ident chips, both of you.”

“The bot is real flacked, sir,” said Narancia primly. “We gotta fix it right away.”

Inspector Asswipe hardened his voice. “Ident chips. Now.”

“We don’t know anything, sir,” you insisted. The cleaning bot wriggled under your other arm, beeping unhappily. “You should ask the higher-ups. There’s hundreds of ships here, how do you expect us to keep track of them all?”

“The Passione’s tiny,” added Narancia. “We wouldn’t know it if we saw it.”

You winced at the discrepancy the same second Asswipe noticed it.

“I didn’t mention anything about the Passione,” Abbacchio said. He was scowling at you now, a tiny line appearing between his eyebrows. It was a regrettably familiar expression. You often saw it in your sleep.

He brought a hand up behind his ear, tapping his earpiece. “I’d like to request backup on the Ferry’s office.”

Narancia darted a look at you. Your first instinct was to start blasting, but you had a bad track record on the Ferry and if there was another incident, you could bid adieu to Ferry rides.

So that was what the cleaning bot was for.

You released the bot and it shot forward like a rabid animal. Severe Cleaning was no joke. The bot rushed toward Abbacchio, descending upon his uniform with such force that it managed to propel itself up his legs a few inches. Its brushes whirred so fast you could barely see them. Indomitable though he was, even Inspector Asswipe leapt back at the ferocious cleaning bot. He let out a yelp when its brushes started shredding his pants, and you were tempted to pull out your holopad to record his priceless oh-flack face.

“Haul ass,” you said to Narancia, and leapt down the escalator. You wove back through the little maintenance corridors to the Passione. Abbacchio’s reinforcements would be on your ass in no time.

“It’s almost like you go looking for Inspector Asswipe sometimes,” you huffed over your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to. Went to talk to the Ferry master like you said and I just happened to run into him.”

“He probably wouldn’t haven’t noticed if you hadn’t said anything about your work experience.”

“Aw, don’t be mad about that, Cap. You know I’m bad with numbers.”

“Don’t I,” you muttered. Narancia could barely add two numbers together but when it came to relative distances and calculating vectors for ship travel, he could crunch the numbers faster than Fugo. You would never understand it.

“They went over here!” You picked up the pace as about dozen pairs of feet clattered after you and Narancia. You peeled out of the corridors and hopped onto the mag belts instead.

“Do you know how much time is left until our slot number is called?” Narancia asked you.

You frowned, thinking. “Uh, not anytime soon? Why?”

“We can’t wait around here or Asswipe will get us,” said Narancia. “We’re going to fly out of the Ferry on our own.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet. “What? How—” You cut yourself short. You supposed it would be possible. The Ferry was docked and you would only have to fly a short distance to get to Sale and Zucchero’s shop.

“Exactly, Cap.” Narancia pulled you into a small alcove to wait for the GA’s to pass. He pulled out his holopad and pressed Fugo’s contact. What sounded like a whoosh of fire and harsh coughing answered the call.

“Fugo, how’s the ship looking?”

“You didn’t hear the sound of the engine dying? That last bit of flying did her in. We’ll have to ask Sale and Zucchero to tow us to the shop once we’re off the Hub.”

You and Narancia pressed yourself deeper into the alcove as the GA’s stomped past. “Well, flack, you’re not gonna like what I have to say,” whispered Narancia.

“What happened?”

“Officer Asswipe found Narancia out,” you said. “He and his goons are combing through the Ferry as we speak.”

Fugo swore colourfully. For a former Upper Space noble, he had quite the vulgar vocabulary.

“We’ll hide on another ship,” Fugo decided. “I’m pretty sure I saw a freighter close to ours. Their crew won’t mind too much, I don’t think.”

Narancia brought the holopad closer to his face. “No time. We can just fly outta this joint on our own.”

“Did you miss the part where I said our engine died? We’re not flacking going anywhere!”

“The Cap and I are going to jack into one of the towing buggies they have here,” Narancia said. Excitedly, you noted. “It should have enough juice to propel us to the Sale and Zucchero’s. They tow those big-ass freighters, don’t they?”

“That is not going to work! Those things don’t have nearly enough power to go a distance like that. Cap, did you agree to this?”

You hadn’t, but your mind was quickly changing now that you could hear the guards coming back and the Ferry’s emergency alarm blaring. The speakers overhead chimed.

“At this time, we ask that all ships pause in their departure preparations. Slot departures have been momentarily suspended as the Galactic Authorities have requested a search of the Ferry to locate a few persons of interest. We ask that you remain where you are and cooperate with Authorities. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“It’s either that or get hauled in by Inspector Asswipe,” you said. “Get the Passione unmoored and everything ready for flight. Narancia and I are getting the buggy and then we’re out.”

Narancia hung up before Fugo could protest. He grinned devilishly at you. “Alright, Cap. I was wondering when the obligatory cop chase would happen.”

“Talk to me after we get out of here.”

At least the GA’s prowling around kept the mag belts clear. You and Narancia sprinted down them to the A slots. With your caps pulled low, no one looked twice, probably assuming you were rushing to deal with the delay. Predictably, the A slots were cluttered with Upper Space nobles standing around their shiny ships, trying to hide how disgruntled they were as GA’s questioned them. The buggies had been pushed to the side, round little vehicles with hooks on the end hovering an inch off the floor. They wouldn’t be locked. It was just a matter of getting them back to the T block.

“Over there,” Narancia whispered, nodding at a trio of maintenance workers that were hooking up a buggy to a snazzy pleasure cruiser. The owner must have been cleared already.

You looked over your shoulder to make sure everyone was occupied before striding over. In your pocket, you touched your elector card and took it out, glancing at Narancia. You stunned the guy in front of you at the same time Narancia did his, catching him before he could hit the ground. The two workers were propped in the corner of an empty slot and by the time the third one turned around, Narancia had stunned her and carried her off to be with her buddies.

“Piece of cake,” said Narancia, reaching to remove the buggy hook.

“Is my cruiser ready to leave yet?” A snub-nosed noble poked his head out of his cruiser. He hadn’t noticed anything, the idiot.

“Yep, we’re leaving now,” said Narancia in a squeaky voice, smoothly replacing the hook. The noble pursed his lips, settling himself back inside. Narancia snatched the hook off and the two of you climbed into the buggy. You took a second to consider the scene. A buggy going in the opposite direction of the A slot would attract attention regardless of what you did.

Might as well floor it then. You said as much to your pilot and he wasted no time. He floored the gas pedal and you peeled away from the pleasure cruiser at a whopping twenty kilometres per hour.

“What the flack is this?” Narancia stomped on the gas pedal a few times. The buggy rumbled unhappily but didn’t speed up. A particularly overzealous stomp sent the buggy skittering into the wall of a slot, prompting the nobles and GA’s there to look up. It took them a second to register what was happening before they ran after you, banging on the side of the buggy.

“Narancia, the plan is flopping,” you said, twisting in your seat to look around the buggy. There had to be a turbo-speed button somewhere.

Narancia wrenched the steering wheel, mirthlessly bruising the GA’s chasing them against the wall. “Yeah, I know it is. Hold this for a sec.”

You grabbed the steering wheel from your seat. Narancia slid down to the underside of the buggy’s console. He pried open a panel hidden underneath and raised his holopad to it. The console beeped and Narancia popped back into his seat. “That should do it.”

This time, Narancia stomping on the gas was enough to push you back in your seat. The speedometer went haywire as the buggy went speeds it had never thought possible. You thought you heard a thud as the jaws of the GA’s behind you hit the floor.

“That man Fugo is something else.” Narancia grinned manically.

You clenched your armrests. “What did you do?”

“Put in a code Fugo wrote for me to overwrite the buggy’s internal computer. Any baby that can move can move over a hundred kilometers an hour. You just need to tell them to.”

Also known as a bit of sweet talk from Narancia Ghirga.

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

1 note · View note

luvring · 2 years

Text

— asra relationship headcanons

gn!reader, switches between he/they pronouns for asra

warnings: none :-)

note from nia: i love asra sm like it's okay if he's a gemini guys. i'd say i can fix him but he doesn't need fixing. if asra has a million number of fans, then i am one of them. if asra ha-

whenever you walk into the room, he gets the biggest smile and beckons you over. he has such a lovestruck look on his face that everyone else in the room is either going "aww" or "oh my god please stop"

they like using pet names just to tease you — baby, darling, bub, love, sweetheart. if you use one on them they get immensely happy

whenever there's a holiday coming up he brings out matching pyjama sets for the both of you. halloween, christmas, valentine's - he's Ready. if you don't celebrate, he still has sets that you bring out randomly! it's then immediately titled a self-care relaxing kind of day/evening

they have a specific ringtone for you (one of your favourite songs) so that they always pick up no matter what they're doing

he loves when you guys do self-care together!! he'll help you push back any hair and put on a facemask, asking you to do the same for him

they really like showering/bathing with you. loves washing your back and hair :[ they also have a bunch of bath bombs

sometimes they cook breakfast when they wake up before you and bring it to you in bed (other times they'll lay there and wait for you to wake up)

lazy days are his favourite because he gets to sleep in with you. you often wake up to him looking at you, running his hand through your hair or tracing shapes on your back

they always always kiss you on the forehead and hug you before heading out

he takes photos of any pets being walked and sends them to you

all he says is "dog :)"

loves posting about you if you let them. they do those trends of posting their s/o on their story and are so proud about it.

his posts are like, random things with no context, jokes, and then photo dumps of (the two of) you

they're proud of anything and everything you do. you made a new painting? they love it and will point out all their favourite details. you wrote a new song or poem? they'll hum the tune as they work and talk about their favourite lines. you took some new photos you really like? they'll offer to get them printed and put them up. you crocheted something for them? they're wearing it the next time you go out. the most supportive partner ever

they wrap their scarf around you when it's cold

he'll also hold and breathe on your hands to warm them up

they can be big or little spoon, they enjoy both equally

they love kissing your knuckles. and forehead. and cheeks. and lips. they just really like kissing you

he's always up for giving you piggy back rides if you're tired

and if you ever decide to try surprising/pranking him by jumping into his arms, he will drop whatever he was holding to catch you. will spin you around and say "well hello there"

they always get panicky when you injure yourself, even if it's small

he has the silliest bandaids he could find at the store for small cuts (he takes larger injuries more seriously). hello kitty, barbie, hot wheels — there are literally no regular bandaids in your house unless you buy them yourself.

they bring back little trinkets from their travels for you and now there's an entire area on your dresser dedicated for them

you guys always get a mug/glass from the places you visit so your cupboards are full of mismatching ones

he's always holding your hand when you go out

if someone starts bothering you they pull you behind them and ask how they can help with the fakest smile

likes pda in the sense that he'll hold your hand while walking, but if you decided to grab his face and kiss him in the middle of the street, he'd be totally okay with it. might grin or smirk after tbh

one of their favourite dates was actually really simple: you made bracelets for each other!

he put charms with your favourite colours and animal on it. there's a little "ILY <3" in the middle. he never takes his bracelet off.

you know those bridges where you can lock a lock with your initials and stuff? there is definitely a brightly coloured lock somewhere with your names (+faust c:)

they also like doing escape rooms. every time you walk in they dramatically gasp and say "oh no! we're stuck in here together alone for the foreseeable future! what are we going to do mc?"

also?? thrifting dates are always fun because he picks out objectively the worst/most dramatic pieces there but still pulls it off. it's like those tiktoks where they try to make a bad outfit but you can't help but say "well hold on,"

ok last 'date' idea is walks at night. usually there isn't that many people around and they get to dance and spin you down the street with no worries :[

they always bring you to those mini photo booths when they spot one. the wall by your bed filled with photos now

drunk asra gets very giggly, loud, and clingy. like a big koala.

drunk asra also likes doing things that would get them in trouble (more than usual) so if you don't stop them, no one will.

asra uses kaomojis (emojis like (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡) and they alway draw them on sticky notes as well as little notes/reminders for you to find around the shop

after a long day of helping customers and tending to the shop, they drag you upstairs to cuddle and will not let go

if it was more of a frustrating rather than exhausting day, he refuses to end the day like that. he'll do whatever it takes — tickle you, have a little dance party, go for a walk, take a bath, it's always a toss up

if he ever catches you crying alone, he feels his heart break. he walks up to you and gently asks if you'd like his company. he'll pull you into his chest and runs his hand up and down your back, whispering kind affirmations and reassurances — "you'll never have to go through today again, i promise."

never forces you to talk but reminds you he's there if you need him

knows when you're burnt out and makes you to take a break

if you're super anxious about something, he'll do whatever he can to help with it while calming you down. he'll help you work past your comfort zone if you ask, but he knows your boundaries and never pushes you to do something you don't want to

they like when you paint their nails fun colours :)

you guys have so many blankets and pillows it'd be shocking if you didn't have a fort built somewhere

there's also a lot of pillow fights

you guys just like doing dumb stuff. sliding around with socks on, trying out couple tiktok trends, trying to cook without a recipe. it's a very fun relationship <3

they remember basically every single detail you share

it makes for great birthday presents because they'll remember that really specific thing you mentioned like 4 months prior

they like opening doors for you, sometimes teasing you by bowing and going "my liege"

he likes playing co-op games with you! open world games, indie games kind of thing. also stuff like overcooked despite the chaos that ensues

he won't hesitate to compete against you in like, super smash bros or something though. he's somehow good at uno even though it relies a lot on luck??

like anytime you get together with friends someone is getting +4 and it is Not asra (probably julian tbh)

asra hates whenever you two argue. they've gotten better at trusting you and working together rather than for you, but they're still scared sometimes. arguments don't last too long as you realize each of you just want to help and protect each other. they hug you really tight while exchanging apologies.

has most definitely had long talks with his parents about you and the future he envisions with you — whatever that entails. honestly could not care less if they decide to tell you about it, he's very open about wanting to spend his life together.

"yes i did say that. do you have any problems with it?"

#the arcana #asra x reader #asra alnazar #asra the arcana #the arcana headcanons #asra headcanons

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amiedala · 2 years

Text

WHISPERS

PROMPT: Wish

SUMMARY: “You can look at me,” Din whispers. “I trust you.”

So you do. And that’s the shape of it—love—and everything you’ve wished for.

WARNINGS: allusions to sexual content, mentions of violence, pining

WORDCOUNT: 2,329

AUTHOR’S NOTE: day 9 of @dindjarindiaries’s Dincember!!! all throughout the month of December, i’ll be writing (relatively) short din djarin x reader oneshots (alongside all the other incredible participants!!!). today, what came out was romance and love. enjoy!

It starts in the dark.

After a bounty hunt gone sideways, after all the stitched scars after the charged moments in the hull, your bodies orbiting each other without ever touching. You feel the weight of a thousand glittering stars in your chest whenever you’re around him.

You know his name. Din Djarin, melodic and fitting underneath all the armor. You know his secrets, how he sounds when your fingers are patching up open wounds. You know how close he throttles himself to death, whether it’s over a bounty, or to save Grogu, or to protect you. You use his soap in the shower sometimes, when he’s gone—wrap yourself in the sweet suds to keep you warm. You’ve felt his mouth in the dark. You’ve tasted the hollow of his throat, right where his collarbones connect. You’ve seen the nightmares, you can predict his thrashing without any light to see him by.

The first time you and Din do anything, it’s your hands braced over the thick, sinewy curve of his thigh after a particularly difficult bounty, cleaning up the mess of scarlet. He hissed at your touch, and you pulled back. One gloved hand closed over your wrist, pressing it back against the cut. “Keep going,” he said, voice low and intentional, thick through the modulator. He gave you a singular nod, and you turned back to the wound, trying to focus on damage control so you didn’t fixate on your bare skin against his.

After that—contact comes in fragments. Din watches over you while you sleep, a shiny, determined star. Sometimes, he’ll let you pilot the ship, the rickety, stubborn hunk of metal you’ve both learned to call home, silent except for the approving fix of the visor on the contours of your hands, tracing over the same buttons and levers you’ve seen him do a million times. When he’s gone for more than a handful of days, and the Razor Crest is starting to swell and sigh with emptiness, he’ll buzz your comm, and you’ll go back and forth until you’ve forgotten the shape of loneliness. Well, you talk. Din listens. He’s not good with words. He uses his mouth like a survival skill—to breathe, to stay alive, not much else.

Unless it’s on yours.

You’ve already fallen for him the first time his lips touch your own, when you feel him, unarmored and unmoored, in the pitch-dark. You’ve wished for him, under millions of sustained stars. It feels like it’s buzzing with a frequency only you’re tuned into, before Din touches you like it means something. For weeks—months, maybe—you’ve been nursing the galaxy’s biggest crush. It doesn’t matter that he’s a sharpened, whetted thing, that his native language is violence. You see the way he uses his body, like it’s an extension of a weapon, but there’s softness and warmth buried underneath all the armor. He rarely—if ever—attacks first. It’s protection, you realize, when you see how easily he snaps towards destruction. It’s not ruthlessness. It’s a need to keep what he cares about safe.

The baby, of course.

And you.

Stars, you. When you meet him—the Mandalorian, long before Din’s name slips out of his mouth—you’re surrounded by a group of men and their menacing smiles. You knew you weren’t a good thief when you stole the food from the upper part of the city—you’d never taken anything before—but there were children starving down in the bowels of the same streets, and you couldn’t stand to see that. Not if you could help. Even if it meant you were going to get knocked around or thrown in jail.

You had closed your eyes when the first man swung, but nothing happened. No blade grazed you, no razor’s edge spilled your blood. When you opened your eyes, hesitant, heart pounding, all five of them were on the ground. Some looked more gruesome than others, but all of them were knocked out cold. Or dead. You’re not sure.

And there he was—a Mandalorian, in the shiny, consuming flesh—and your heart leaped in your chest.

“Come with me,” was all he said. And you did—following his quick, expert pace out of the city and onto the Crest. And you never left. You never want to. In time, you learn that you were a bounty—the blinking, red puck hidden in the stomach of the ship reads your name—but he never cashed you in. He kept you—keeps you—because, for some reason, you’re worth more than credits.

You have it bad. Like an inexperienced, flushed teenager. You trace the outline of the beskar with your eyes, memorize the shape of it. You’re addicted to the smell of him—metal, smoke, soap, and, bizarrely, cinnamon—and it lives in your head, whispering to you even when he’s gone. You learn his name in the dark after a bloody recovery and a full-strength bacta patch, and you burn with it, this trust. You want him. It’s consuming, the weight of it, like it’s eating away all of your self-control. Your dreams flood with Din—his voice, his stature, his body—and he starts to live on your tongue.

You keep him there, underneath in the warm plush of the bottom of your mouth. For weeks, it festers and burns like a deranged flame, but you don’t dare let it out. You’re his passenger. You were his bounty. He looks at you—you can feel his gaze cut down to the core—but that’s it. After sideways missions, he lets you patch him up. Sometimes, he’ll talk to you—really talk—but for weeks, that’s where the line stops.

And then—you let it slip out. That whisper, that sweet, desperate thing that hides under your tongue. It’s driven out, turned brazen by the time he spent down on Corellia’s surface—six days, nearly a full week—bleeding out of your mouth before you have a chance to stop it. “I want you.” Three tiny words, billowed up to something heavy and tangible. It’s out in the air, hanging in the balance.

You’re standing, both of you, only a foot apart. He’s intact, no wounds to patch, no reason for you to touch him, but you had accidentally whacked yourself in the face with a wrench when you and Grogu tried to fix an electrical issue, and a bruise blooms out around your temple. It’s nearly impossible to see in the dim, dim light—but of course, Din catches it, hand snapping out to anchor your chin to inspect it closer. His gloved hand is still on your cheek when you admit it—bare, vivid, wanting—and you burn under his touch.

He stares at you. The visor doesn't move. His head doesn’t tilt. “You shouldn't.”

Embarrassment burns hot up your neck, seeping down to where his hand is glancing against your face. You’re darkened with it. “I—but I do.”

He doesn’t move. Neither do you. And then, like a lightning strike, he tears himself away from you, storming into the fresher, slamming the door behind him. You nave no idea what to do, but you feel tears bubbling up at the corners of your eyes, wet, hot, shameful. Your heart won’t stop hammering. Your body burns with the rejection—Maker, you were usually far more eloquent than that, and it slipped out like a secret. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, rocketing toward the cockpit, wanting to curl yourself up in the copilot’s seat and let yourself cry. At least, with the company of the stars glittering back at you, you won’t be alone.

But there’s something so heavy—so pregnant—about the silence. It changes from heavy to suffocating, all the hair on the back of your neck standing up. You don’t clock it, at first, and then it’s all-consuming. It’s him, standing behind you, and you didn’t hear a thing.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare.” It’s rough. It’s not sharp around the edges, not jagged, not tinted with rejection—it’s intense. It’s the shape of the confessions under your tongue, where your want for Din lives, warm and wet and ricocheting throughout your body. You freeze.

He strides toward you, you can feel it, and then the seat swirls around to face him. Din keeps you anchored there, each gloved hand planted on the armrest, the underbelly of his forearms grazing against your thigh. He’s kneeling, slightly crouched, and he’s face-to-face with you; the only barrier between his skin and yours is the helmet.

“You—you shouldn’t want me,” he mutters, like he’s chewing on glass to make the words come out right. “I’m—not like you. Not good. And if I touch you, if—if you let me touch you, I will not be able to stop.”

Your mouth gapes open. Wide, like a fish. The air feels hot and heavy. You’re choking on it. “You mean it?”

One quick, curt, affirming nod. Yes.

“Please don’t stop,” you manage, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, your skin inflamed in goosebumps. “Don’t ever stop.”

And, after he carries you to his bunk for the first time—you know he’s a man of his word. It’s like he’s an addict and you’re the most dangerous form of spice. The reserved, untalkative man of the past—it leaves his body like the beskar does, discarded with a decisive bang against the metal floor. You don’t need his words. But he gives them to you, in the pitch-dark—you’re so pretty, sweet girl. I want you. I need you. So soft. So good for me. And, in the interludes, after you’ve both been wrung out and left to dry, bodies constellating around each other, a sentient tangle of limbs, he whispers other things. His name. Why he refused to collect your bounty. The times he thinks of you on hunts. There’s so much sweetness, in the midnight black. It lights you up from the inside out, clings to your chest like stars.

For months—you lose track of time—it’s all you want. To share the darkness. To touch Din Djarin’s bare skin, to feel his forbidden mouth against yours, to be held by the man underneath the metal. But you get greedy. You want to stay by his side on his hunting trips, you want to kiss him in the light.

And, the gnawing one, the one that breeds underneath your skin like a virus—you love him. You love him, and you need him to love you back. For weeks, you keep it at bay, keep it leashed in your mouth like a rabid animal. You pinch your skin to keep it from slipping out, you whisper it under the heavy pulse of the shower’s warmth. Not quite a confession, but something in between it.

It comes out in the night—like everything always does—your tongue curving around the words, wanting to make it count, make sure it’s right. You’re laying with Din, naked and intertwined, underneath heavy blankets, skin pressed to skin. His face is on your chest, your fingers stroking through his hair. The world burns. “I love you,” you whisper, to the gathering dark. “I wished for this. For you.”

And, for days after—you think it stayed secret. Spoken only to the silence, nothing more. That Din was sleeping when you confessed to it, that he didn’t hear you. But he holds you just as possessively. His lips find yours, then travel down your body. He sinks into you, over and over again, hot and sweaty and yearning. He doesn’t leave the ship unless you’re sleeping, and he kisses you with abandon.

It’s not a confession, not what you did, but you can feel it. Din’s words aren’t his strong suit—he shows. He wraps you up tight, he strokes your hair, he uses his mouth for other things. And, honestly—it’s almost a relief, not hearing him say the words I love you. You feel it, every day. You don’t need it spoken aloud.

When it happens—when Din tells you—he doesn’t use the words you did. He gets up in the middle of the night, turning on the dim light by the fresher, and when he crawls back into bed with you, the light seeps into the holy sanctum of the bunk, and then Din’s right there, kneeling against the floor, and your eyes flutter open.

It’s only a silhouette, at first, and then you make out the distinct features of his hooked nose, the dark curls of his hair, a strong jaw—and then you slap your hands over your eyes and rocket upwards. “Maker above,” you gasp, “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry—”

He says your name.

“It was an accident, I swear, I swear—”

“Sweet girl.” There’s no anger in his voice, no panic. You feel Din’s hands close over your wrists, patient, strong. Slowly, you let him drag them away, and your eyes flutter open, staring at him. He’s beautiful—dark hair, defined eyebrows, his gorgeous nose, the curve of his pink lips. You can’t stop staring. “It’s okay. I wanted to show you.”

You bite your bottom lip, transfixed. “But I—”

“You can look at me,” Din whispers. “I trust you.”

So you do. And that’s the shape of it—love—and everything you’ve wished for. Trust, safety—and the way it’s reciprocated. You look at him, for hours, and for days after, unable to tear your eyes away from him. Din Djarin, the man without the metal, the man who knows you—you thrill with the thought of it, starry and glittering. He trusts you. And, as the weeks dwindle past, as you relearn every shape and curve of his body, you know this is it—what you wished on those stars for, that very first night, what love feels like. It slips out of Din’s mouth, when you’re on the edge of sleep. I—I love you. It’s clumsy, and it’s whispered like something sacred, like it’s the first and only time it’s ever slipped out of his mouth. It runs through you, thrills you—sparkling and enduring. It—love—replaces the whispers in the dark, sustains in the light. And you know it, down to your bones.

#dincember #dincember 2021 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #my writing

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