#I’m so over shipping I just say ‘oh they fucked’ or ‘they should fuck’

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End

Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.

Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.

Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.

Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.

Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".

Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.

Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.

Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.

Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.

Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.

On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.

Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.

Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:

Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.

(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)

Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.

Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.

Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.

Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!

Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—

Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.

Today’s class consists of:

Minimus (old as balls, former high society)

Skids (the best at everything)

Brainstorm (literal genius)

Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)

Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)

Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)

Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)

Hound (former Primal Vanguard)

Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)

Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)

Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)

And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)

Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.

This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.

Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.

The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.

Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.

Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:

Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.

No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.

The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.

Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.

Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.

Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.

Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.

To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.

Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.

Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.

Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.

Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.

Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.

Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.

…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.

Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.

No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.

The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.

Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.

Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.

Let’s give him a hand, folks!

While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.

Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.

Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.

Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.

Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.

Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.

Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.

Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.

Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.

Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.

While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.

The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.

Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.

Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.

Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.

Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.

Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.

Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!

Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!

Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.

Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.

It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.

Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.

Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.

Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.

Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH

How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.

Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.

Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.

Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.

Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.

The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.

As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.

That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.

And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!

#transformers #MTMTE #issue 50 #maccadam #hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis

[nonasuch]

here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:

so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 

and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.

and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!

except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—

except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —

he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —

“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.

Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.

another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.

Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—

the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.

and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.

when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 

Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.

there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.

Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.

“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.

so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 

and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 

so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 

and a trooper comes in.

and the trooper takes off his helmet.

and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

(continued here)

#i have no idea what happens after that but it's definitely not the plot of star wars: a new hope #star wars #not fic

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part three.

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yourusername is it time for bahrain yet?! can’t wait to see these two back in action again soon! 🧡

view all 4,981 comments

mclaren We keep asking ourselves the same thing! Our engines are ready and we’re raring to go! 🧡

↳ yourusername you truly understand me mclaren admin

↳ mclaren we think you’re the one who truly understands us y/n

↳ user y/n x mclaren admin?? 🤯 the plot twist none of us saw coming

user missing these lads so much lately

user THE RADIO SILENCE ON OSCAR’S SOCIALS WAS KILLING ME I DEPEND ON THESE MEN TOO MUCH THEY KEEP ME ALIVE 😭😭

user the f1 drought is real rn

user MCLAREN SUPREMACY 2024

↳ user i’m trying to be delulu but we all know it’s just gonna be the mv33 and redbull show again this year 🫤

user soooo are we all just gonna pretend like we didn’t see the pics of her with garrett ward orrrrr?

↳ user no bc i was just thinking the same thing 👀

↳ user wait that was actually her??? cuz you can like barely see her face so i thought it was just a joke???

user what a fake ass bitch

user she only posts other ppl on her acc cuz she knows her ugly ass face would scare everyone else away

user homegirl needs to stay tf away from my man fr 😤😤

user god what a hoe 😒 she already has these two that she could fuck with idk why she needed to go after garrett

user SLUT SLUT SLUT

user if she tries anything with anyone else on the city team i’m gonna lose my shit fr

↳ user same omg

↳ user honestly i’m just glad she didn’t go after grealish or haaland 🙌

↳ user she probably would’ve tried if they weren’t taken already 🙄

↳ user nah i bet she’s totally a homewrecker garrett’s probably just the first on her list

user oh… these comments… 😰

↳ user right???

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yourusername the city boys know how it’s done! and looking pretty good in orange too 😉

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mancity The lads are looking good indeed! This weekend’s match against Newcastle should be an exciting one! ⚽️🩵

mclaren ✍️ Jeremy ✍️ Doku ✍️ and ✍️ Ruben ✍️ Dias ✍️ McLaren ✍️ 2025

↳ mancity Do you think Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri would look good in sky blue? 🤔

user funny how she posts every city man BUT garrett

user god when does she go back to f1??

↳ user march iirc

↳ user well it can’t get here soon enough jfc

user FUCK OFF WE DON’T WANT YOU

user you’re a slag and should accept the fact that any guy would only want you bc of how easy you are

user i’ll bet my left leg that the only reason the f1 boys haven’t shacked up with her yet is cuz they know she’s probably riddled with disease since she drools over every guy that comes near her 😒 like girl needs to bffr and realize that throwing herself at every male in her vicinity isn’t gonna land her a husband and it just making her even more of a slut

↳ user nah i’ll bet they’ve all already done her over in f1 but nobody will touch her now that they’ve passed her round so she had to come over to football just to try and get someone to touch her again 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope garrett realizes how much of a slut she is and breaks up with her

user sick and tired of bitches like this getting with footballers and being all controlling. like i’ll bet she’s gonna tell garrett he can’t go out and party with his mates anymore bc he has to spend time in with her and then she’ll get all pissy about him having female fans bc she’s insecure and knows that if garrett got to meet a REAL fan he’d jump ship immediately. those of us who ACTUALLY care about footballers know their fans are super important to them and we wouldn’t hinder their relationship with them just bc we’re jealous or insecure. garrett needs to be with someone who actually supports him and is willing to let him do what he wants instead of controlling him like he’s a dog on a leash.

user kys like genuinely

user god i can’t wait for this skank to die 😒

“Hey Lando, it’s me. Your best friend. Again,” you give a humorless chuckle. “I could seriously use some of your wizened advice right about now, so, uh, please just give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

It seems poetic in a cruel sort of way that less than a week ago you were walking Etihad Campus and feeling like you were on top of the world━ working a new albeit temporary gig, adding the Manchester City name to your list of clients, having photos of world-renowned footballers in your portfolio━ and now you’ve resigned yourself to hiding away in the women’s restroom, locked in a stall because it’s the only place you could think of where nobody would be able to find you.

You’re on the verge of tears and feeling rather stupid for it.

It’s the third time today alone that your call has gone straight to voicemail, and with the dozens of unread texts you’ve sent in the last week added to the mix, it’s starting to paint a picture you’re not very happy with. Lando is ignoring you. Or he’s blocked you. Or he’s blocked you because he’s ignoring you━

You bite down on your lip, hard, to keep back the sob crawling its way up your throat.

You’re not a PR officer, you hadn’t been lying when you told Garrett that, but you’ve spent enough time around the McLaren PR teams that you’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know, at the very least, that the best thing you can do is just ignore the comments.

That’s what they tell all the athletes.

What they don’t tell the athletes is that ignoring the comments is much easier said than done, especially when your career requires you to have such a significant online presence. And the thing is, despite all of these strangers hounding you with every name under the sun and criticizing your capabilities, qualifications, and very existence, the thing that hurts the most is the radio silence from the only person you know could make it all better.

Now, more than ever, you need your best friend. But he isn’t here.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and unlock the stall with great reluctance. You know better than to be hiding away, shirking your responsibilities while crying over a few missed phone calls. You have a job to do, and a real professional wouldn’t let something as simple as a handful of tasteless comments get in the way of that.

You should be used to them. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Your first month at McLaren wasn’t entirely different.

When you were first hired on, Carlos had been in Formula One for a handful of years already and had built up a devotedly loyal fanbase with a decently large percentage of possessive fangirls who had come for your head the moment your existence had been announced.

The McLaren Instagram account had posted a picture of you standing between their two grinning drivers, your camera strung around your neck, with a very nice caption welcoming you to the team, and despite no indication that you were by any means involved with either of them in a way that went beyond professional, the comments had been taken over by feral teenage girls who saw the act of you simply standing near Carlos to be a direct threat against their “chances.”

Though it had been frustrating being met with childish threats and petty insults in your comments, you hadn’t really held it against any of them. You remember being a teenage girl and crushing on a celebrity. Deep down you knew you never had a chance with them, but that hadn’t stopped you from hanging posters in your bedroom and doodling their name beneath yours inside of scribbled hearts in your diary.

Regardless, it had taken close to a month for the negativity to die down, and you hadn’t had Lando then, either, so now shouldn’t be much different.

In fact, everyone on the Manchester City team━ trainers, physios, media coordinatiors, and anyone inbetween━ has been very polite about everything between you and Garrett. A lot of them have just avoided saying anything about it, which you’re very grateful for because you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your grimace while thanking them for their well wishes, and the few who have mentioned it typically only say something vague like a wishing you the best of luck or hoping you’re happy.

An intern gave you a sympathetic smile the other day, and you’d nearly burst into tears in the middle of the office of the Director of Communications, so you know you aren’t truly alone in this.

You just feel alone.

Exiting the bathroom is a simple affair. There’s no one standing post outside ready to give you any shit for being hidden away, and nobody comes sprinting around the corner as you make your way down the hall to the press conference room that’s been temporarily turned into your base of operations.

You think you’ll probably be able to go the rest of the afternoon without running into anyone, when you open your door and find━ sitting in the front row of the seats typically saved for journalists and the press, scrolling across his phone with a disinterested look painted across his face━ Jack Grealish.

“Jack,” you greet, a bit shocked. You close the door to the room gently behind you, and cross the distance to your desk. “Did we have a meeting scheduled? It must’ve completely slipped my mind, I sincerely apologize.”

He offers you a polite smile. “No, we didn’t, so no need to be sorry. I actually just wanted to check in. See how things are going with everything.”

You blink at him in surprise. Apart from Garrett, you haven’t really had much time to speak with the other players. They wish you good morning and good afternoon when they see you, and if a ball goes astray they always call out for you to watch your head, but between their morning training and their afternoon training, their strategy reviews at lunch, and the frequent in between meetings with physios, nutritionists, and trainers, they don’t get much time to chit chat with a simple photographer.

You clear your throat, “Erm, it’s going well. I’ve gotten some really good shots these past few days. There’s one with Rodrigo that I’m particularly proud of. It should do well with the fans.”

“And things with Ward?”

You purse your lips.

“Figured.” Jack sighs. “Look, nearly everyone you run into here knows or has at least some inkling into what he’s like. He’s a prick. None of the lads on the team like him, it’s why the managers are trying to get him out of here.”

You lower yourself down into your chair. “He told me they were planning to trade him off because of his reputation.”

Jack scoffs, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the ‘official’ reason. They can’t cut his contract early for legal reasons, so they’re waiting for it to expire and coming up with an excuse for why they ain’t re-signing him. It’s really just ‘cause the rest of us can’t keep dealing with his massive ego and the fact that he’s a misogynistic fuck who doesn’t know the first thing about respect.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you mutter with a sigh.

If he expected you to defend Garrett and is surprised by the fact that you haven’t, Jack doesn’t show it. He looks relaxed sitting across from you, like you’re having a casual conversation and not actively shit talking a member of his team. It gives you the impression that he knows significantly more about Garrett than you do, and that because of what he knows he probably figured out that one party in the relationship is not the most willing of participants.

“How’d you get all wrapped up it in then? Didn’t figure you to be the type to go after pricks like Ward.”

You debate over whether you should tell him or not. There isn’t much Jack can do about the situation regardless, but it would at least get things off your chest and if someone else knew then maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

There’s only so many days you can spend hiding out in the women’s restroom trying not to bawl your eyes out, and you’ve already reached your limit.

You heave a sigh, “It’s kind of fucked up really.” A pen on your desk catches your attention and you start to fiddle with it, avoiding Jack’s eyes which have focused directly onto you. “He asked if I would help him fix up his reputation by pretending to be his girlfriend so he could show everyone that he’s matured and can hold down a steady relationship. When I told him no, he threatened to make up a lie about inappropriate conduct to get me fired and blacklisted from the industry, so for the sake of preserving my career I agreed.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m real sorry he did that, Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s happened, so, there’s nothing I can really do except wait it out at this point.”

When you look up and meet his gaze, Jack looks murderous. His hands are clenched into fists on the armrests, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are twisted downward in a scowl.

“If you need anything,” he starts, “let me know. And I mean it. We all know how Ward can be. He’s a knobhead. So if you need anything━” his emphasis on the word and what that implies makes you feel more comforted than anything has since the whole fiasco started, “━then you let me know, or you tell one of the other boys and they’ll find me, alright?”

All you can do is nod.

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yourusername there’s no place like home

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry

━━ a/n: no lando yet, but we've got a cutesy little grealish scene to make up for it because i couldn't have a story with manchester city and not include him! lowkey writing this part made me wanna write for a footballer too... anyways! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

[sturnsbaebackup]

can you write something about how the fans have started speculating something between you and chris??

RUMORS FLY - CHRIS STURNIOLO

summary: you and chris have been talking, and the fans are starting to notice.

warnings: none!

-

as nick and matt argue about god knows what into their microphones, chris stares down at his phone with a small smile. “chris what’s your opinion on this?” nick asks, but it appears chris hasn’t heard him.

“chris, get off of your fucking phone. we’re on the podcast! who are you even texting that’s so important right now?” matt groans. quickly after being called out chris puts his phone away. he’s very clearly flustered, and he says, “i was just um— texting nate!”

“texting nate? with that big of a smile on your face? i didn’t know nate was so funny… but whatever can you please just get off of your phone and help us settle this debate,” matt says, glaring at chris with a wondering eye. not even his brothers knew about you and chris, but they were bound to find out soon enough.

chris feels his phone buzz on his lap, and he waits until he has a chance to answer it. he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s recording because he doesn’t want to stop talking to you, so he tried to multitask, but clearly he’s not very good at it.

nick suddenly gets up and walks over to chris, snatching his phone from his hands. as he does so, he see’s your contact name and the photo of you and chris cuddling at the top of the screen. “oh my god that’s—“ he blurts out, but immediately stops himself. “—enough! i’m taking your phone until the end of the episode” nick says, immediately catching himself before he reveals you and chris’ secret.

chris’ cheeks turn bright pink, and his heart rate is through the roof. he knows he’ll be grilled with questions once they’re done recording, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that yet. eventually the pod is over, and immediately nick hands chris his phone with a smirk.

“have fun texting y/n!” nick shouts as chris begins walking downstairs to his room. a loud gasp can be heard from matt, and chris can feel his cheeks burning up. he scurries into his room and replies to your texts, and immediately opens tiktok to rewatch the tiktok you guys had made a couple days ago. he scrolls through the endless comments, and begins to notice a reoccurring pattern.

“are they dating?!”

“oh i ship this”

“i think they’re dating! i mean, y/n is wearing his brand…”

and so forth. he bites his cheeks to hold his smile in, but ultimately fails when he sees all of the support even when you guys haven’t gone public. as he scrolls through his phone, a gentle knock can be heard on his door.

“come in nick!” he exclaims, not even looking up from his phone. he knows it’s nick because matt has a tendency to just walk in, or bang on the door. one or the other.

“can i ask you something?” nick asks, sitting in the end of chris’ bed.

“yeah, anything,” chris says, putting his phone down and fixing his posture.

“why didn’t you tell me and matt?”

“um— well we aren’t really telling anyone. i mean we’re not dating yet, but—“ he pause, “actually i don’t really know, honestly. i guess i’m just nervous that if i start telling people things will go south,” he shrugs.

“are you planning to ask her out soon?”

“yeah, i am actually. i was gonna do it this weekend, and make it a big surprise for the fans but now i don’t know. the fans are already speculating things, so i feel like i should just scratch the whole big idea i had and ask her the next time we hang out.”

“oh! that was also one of my questions! how the hell have you been hanging out with y/n and both me and matt didn’t know about it?! we live together and i still didn’t know!”

chris chuckles, “there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me nick. and it’s gonna stay that way, so if you could stop asking me a million questions that would be great,” he sarcastically grins, and nick just rolls his eyes. nick closes the door behind him, and chris immediately goes back to texting you.

—

the podcast episode was posted a few days ago, and immediately the fans have been questioning who chris was texting. there have been many many guesses, but most have been you. chris feels like it’s his fault, and the last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re being led on, so there’s only one thing to do.

“y/n, i have a question,” chris says nervously, looking down at you as your head rests on his arm.

“what is it?” you ask, knowing exactly what it is. or hoping, at least.

“well, obviously i like you. a lot. and i was just wondering if you wanted to make this official? will you be my girlfriend?”

“of course i will chris, is that even a question?” you giggle, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of chris’ shoulders. he smiles at you and gently places his hands on your cheeks, pulling your faces towards his. your lips melt together, and your hands find their way to the back of his neck.

you both end up falling asleep in chris’ bed, and while you both nap, you’re unaware that nick and matt both arrive back home. they enter chris’ room after calling his name a few times with no response, only to see you both asleep. of course, them being the immature boys they are, take your guys’ picture. unfortunately, you learn about this the hard way when you see the photo in their photo dump a few days later. you gasp and immediately check the comments, expecting tons of hate comments.

“i knew it was y/n! they’re so cute!”

“AWWW”

“cutest couple ever”

you immediately text chris, and you both share a big grin over the situation. although you never would have expected your situation with chris to have gotten semi-exposed, you were just glad everyone was so supportive.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

I’ve been following this blog ever since your first headcannons and I’m in love with your writing. I’ve been DYING for someone to request this but nobody has so I will! Could I request a Yandere Andrew with a willing fem reader? She’s just pretty chill and doesn’t mind Andrew’s possessive and yandere nature and is even willing to cut ties with people because she loves him and genuinely sees nothing wrong with it?

P.S I just love the Ashley and Gabriel ship! I think it’s adorable! I love Gabriel’s design and the pairing looks adorable together! I’m always looking on Tumblr multiple times a day to see if you’ve posted something new.

If you accept, please take your time and have fun! Thank you!

Anon- you are so sweet. Thanks dog <3

totallynotcryingtotallynotcrying—

Yandere!Andrew Graves x Willing Fem!Reader

You can’t remember the last time someone cared about you as much as Andrew did

Someone who would do the things he did just to protect you

Really you couldn’t be luckier

Most women would be terrified to see the dark silhouette of their partner standing outside their window late at night

Not you though, you know he was just making sure you were safe.

You waved to him once, and though it was difficult to see- he waved back

It was endearing how much Andrew cared about your safety

It was sweet how much he noticed about you

Small details that would go overlooked, like the shampoo you used- or the way you held yourself while conveying emotions. He noticed.

Andrew loved you. And you loved him.

“I’m just…worried.” Your friend’s voice felt like the vocal equivalent of chewing cardboard. If it wasn’t for the subject right now, you would’ve tuned her out ages ago. But this concerned you and your life, so you listened, “Like- he’s a stalker Y/N! Straight up stalker! What if he like- wears your skin like a jacket or something.”

“Hm.” You shrugged, “I’m sure he’d sew a lovely jacket then.” A small grin formed on the corners of your mouth as your friend gave an annoyed sigh.

“I’m being serious! He’s obsessed with you!”

“Boyfriends are supposed to be obsessed, aren’t they not?”

“No! Like weirdly obsessed!” You could hear the desperation in her voice, “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’ve been- I’ve been getting letters, voicemails, goddamn post it notes on my desk to stay away from you and they’re all from him. He broke into my house!”

Andrew….did all that?

“Oh my god…” you let out.

“Thank you!”

“Oh my god…he- really must not trust you then.”

“WHAT?!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as your friend yelled into it.

You slowly brought it back to your ear, “Well- yeah? I mean- clearly he doesn’t trust you.”

“Clearly he’s insane!”

Alright- you had enough.

“Look,” you took a breath, trying to remain calm, “If you have a problem with my boyfriend- that’s fine. But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult him.”

“I’m not insulting him I’m—“

“Don’t call me again.” You said flatly, and not a second later hung up the phone.

You should feel awful. You should feel apologetic for what you said. You should consider your friend’s words..

But you didn’t.

It wasn’t like how they thought it was.

That friend, and any others who had something to say could fuck themselves over it

It was hard every time you had to do it

But Andrew- bless his soul- always comforted you

Hell, sometimes he even did it for you cause he knew how difficult they could be

He’s so sweet

Still would make them call, but you slowly blocked out the incessant sound of the phone’s ringing

When one of those conversations would bring you down, Andrew would be right there to lift your spirits

Andrew’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs trying to lift the corner of your mouth into a smile. The more he did it, the more it amused you- causing an actual smile to stay.

“There we go.” His head tilted a little as he gave you a small smile of his own, “Much better.”

“You’re a dork.” You buried your face into his chest, sighing happily as the familiar feeling of his hands stroking your hair.

“I’m your dork.” He hummed, “And I like your smile. So you better keep it, or I’ll carve it on to you.”

“Awwww, is that a promise?” You tilted your head up to look into his pale green eyes, your chin rested against his chest.

He nodded, “Mhm! Now C’mere.”

He leaned his head down, kissing you softly. You returned the kiss, reaching your arms up and wrapping them around his neck to hold him there. Not like he’d pull away, but as a measure for yourself more than anything.

For all the “warnings”

All the “concern” people gave your relationship with Andrew Graves

You didn’t care

You loved him

You loved his fucked up ways of affection

His twisted form of love

And he loved you back, tenfold

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #tcoaal #andrew graves x reader #x reader #genuinely this ask warmed my heart #I’m glad people like Gabriel and my dumb shit

[abooklover]

Lines/things in the red white and royal blue movie that make me scream and laugh hysterically (bear with me cause there’s a lot):

‘an urge I currently share’ (Ellen)

‘Making it was one of the most depressing moments of my career and I once saw Mitch McConnell eating a banana’ (Zahra)

‘You can hate prince Henry all you want but the minute you see a camera you better act like the sun shines out of his ass and you have a vitamin d deficiency’ (made even funnier cause of how literally this turned out) - bonus ‘what if I set myself on fire’ (Alex), ‘we’d ship the ashes to Heathrow’ (Zahra)

‘That’s perfect, you can kill me and I won’t have to go’ (Henry)

‘That’s what makes you so charming. That and your eyelashes.’ (So fucking glad they included at least a reference to this. Taylor’s lashes were working fucking overtime in this movie.)

Henry’s text with the attachment and ‘but we were ever so careful, dear’ (One of my favourite texts in the book and I’m so glad it made it into the movie)

‘Can you think of anything more wasteful’ (Alex), ‘Perhaps this conversation’ (Henry)

Henry’s weird little attempt at dancing while chugging out of a champagne bottle with on fist pumping weakly into the air (he is so me it hurts)

‘He grabbed my hair in a way that made me understand the difference between rugby and football’ (Alex)

‘Princes aren’t allowed to be gay, you should know that’ (Nora)

Alex trying to look cool for when Henry walks into the red room (we love an awkward boy)

Alex and Henry jumping apart to do the most unnatural things (Alex inspecting flowers like it’s his job and Henry perusing the bookshelf) like the idiots they are when Amy walks in on them making out

‘Are you still…’ (Alex) ‘Like Stonehenge’ (Henry), ‘or Big Ben’ (Alex)

‘Henry and I are much happier against walls’ (Alex)

‘Are they known for their homosexual tendencies’ (Alex)

‘And I thought Alex Gabriel Claremont Diaz was a mouthful’ (Alex), ‘He is’ (Henry) - and the fucking looks that followed it (kill me now)

‘I went to an English boarding school dear, trust me you’re in good hands’ (Henry)

‘Once, unsuccessfully’ (Henry)

‘Oh gee kid I’m sorry to interrupt your process of becoming but you’re the one who decided to put your dick into the heir to the British throne’ (Zahra), ‘Technically I’m the spare’ (Henry), ‘Not talking to you sir’ (Zahra)

‘Every time I see you it takes another year off of my life’ (Zahra)

Alex’s ‘Noooo..’ and the little laugh he does

‘If I’d had more warning I could’ve made you a PowerPoint presentation’ (Ellen) - another incredible callback to the book

Oscar Diaz’s affectionate ‘you little shit’

‘I’ve been thinking’ (Alex), ‘I seriously doubt that’ (Henry) and Alex’s mimick of it (absolute gold)

‘Or find herself at the top of the staircase with Phillip around’ (Bea, you literally had no right)

Zahra’s face when Alex starts mooning over Henry after his speech, then Zahra saying ‘oh my god, I just have to do everything round here’ and do not get me started on her whole speech to Shaan (greatest thing ever)

‘You might be lousy at keeping secrets kiddo, but I’m not’ (Zahra), ‘Zahra, I could kiss you’ (Alex), ‘Touch me and die’ (Zahra)

‘They can’t keep you locked away forever’ (Alex), ‘We really need to get you a book on English history’ (Henry)

The way Stephen Fry says ‘homosexual’

‘You still haven’t noticed my tie’ and Henry’s little smile afterward (oh how far we’ve come)

BONUS: ‘Do you think anyone noticed?’ and Henry’s exasperated sigh afterward

#No wonder it took me like two and half hours to get through this movie the first time I watched it #just know that when I wasn’t laughing dying or smiling fondly I was crying #do not ask me how many times I’ve watched this movie #you really don’t want to know #it’s embarrassing #I’m sorry but I’m also not #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #rwrb

[whyse7vn]

SHIPPED -

[ot7 x reader]

TAEHYUNG -

tae: pop quiz should i kill myself?

y/n: please

tae: knew it

you fucking hate me and you ARE in love with that mingi guy

y/n: mingi

tae: it’s okay baby no need to apologise i know how crazy fans can get and i know you love me and me ONLY

not mingi

come here let’s cuddle (fuck)

y/n: k

tae: wait 😭😭😭

baby you forgot you apologise

y/n: for what

tae: mingi

they are shipping you with mingi

i can’t even say his name

y/n: you’ve said his name like four times already

tae: ok but i threw up every time

y/n: but you still said his name?

tae: what is your problem

y/n: i miss mingi i’m sorry

i get mad when i don’t see my man for a while

tae: aw babe 🥰

come over

y/n: did you even read what i said?

tae: i’m depressed

y/n: cool don’t care ur not mingi

tae: i could be

y/n: no you couldn’t

tae: ok but

y/n: but?

tae: nothing

y/n: that’s what i thought

loser

tae: don’t call me that

yk it gets me hot and bothered

y/n: are you horny or depressed

tae: don’t ask me stupid questions wtf

ofc i’m horny 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

do you want to fuck?

say yes

y/n: saying no

tae: ok wtf

you really are with mingi aren’t you

y/n: yeah

tae: babe

ur changing i can’t stand this my heart can’t take this damage and the way i feel can’t stand this mmmmm baby i don’t understand this

y/n: did you just sing xxxtentacion lyrics to me

tae: he gets me

y/n: ok

tae: you don’t get me

y/n: thank god

tae: ok now say omg tae ur the only one for me not that moji guy

y/n: moji?

tae: motor?

y/n: ?

tae: mistletoe????

y/n: what

tae: minion

y/n: mingi?

tae: mitochondria

y/n: mingi.

tae: microscope

y/n: it’s mingi

tae: no i think it’s misconstruction

y/n: what do you want from me rn

tae: tell miscarriage to fuck off

y/n: i literally met him once

tae: so???

he wants you

i know it

all the shippers know it

and all these STUPID edits know it

delete his number now

y/n: i don’t even have his number

tae: oh

ok then

y/n: yeah

tae: so like

y/n: don’t ask me anything stupid

tae: thoughts on iceland banning the colour green

y/n: you just made that up

why

ur so strange

tae: babe can i sing for you again

ik u love it when i sing

y/n: leave me alone tae

tae: do you let michael sing to you???

not jackson btw

cuz he’s like dead

y/n: would you like to join him

tae: mingloo or michael jackson???

pls be more specific babe

hey

where did you go

seen?????

ur leaving me on seen are you fr????

ok at least it’s not delivered

or a block like last time

ur real mean yk

at least i know my worlds are getting to you

now let me sing ok?

it might seem crazy what i am 'bout to say

sunshine she's here you can take a break

i'm a hot air balloon that could go to space

ok why did my messages go green

oh

i’m blocked

again

hahahahahaha

cheating fuck

FUCK YOU AND MINTY

SEOKJIN -

jin: the way i don’t even care

y/n: what

jin: i don’t care

y/n: idk this song i’m sorry

jin: i’m not singing

y/n: oh

jin: can he cook

y/n: who

jin: ur mc buddy

y/n: minghao?

jin: yeah

ur new boyfriend can he cook better than me?

no nvm

don’t tell me i don’t even care

not one bit not even two bits

y/n: okay?

jin: no it’s not ok

what about this is ok

OH WOW UR NEW BOYFRIEND IS 26 I DONT EVEN CARE

y/n: why are you shouting at me

jin: I DON’T CARE

LOOK AT ME DOES IT LOOK LIKE I EVEN CARE

y/n: lowkey

jin: he can’t cook

look at his fingers they look weak

a man with weak fingers can’t cook

y/n: ur so right

jin: yeah i know

so can he cook?

y/n: idk babe

jin: why don’t you know

y/n: because i don’t

jin: he’s your man says twitter

you should know these things

y/n: is this you jealous rn?

jin: i don’t even care what are you talking about

y/n: my fault i thought you cared for a second

jin: well i don’t

do you have his number

y/n: yeah

jin: don’t care

y/n: u sure?

jin: whatever man

he was weak fingers

he looks like he has a lisp does he have a lisp?

y/n: no??

jin: yes he does

stupid lispy bitch

y/n: SEOKJIN DONT BE MEAN

lisps are cute

jin: do you like his lisp?

bet you wanna kiss him every time he speaks

bet he’s all like “i theriously thlipping love thew” all in ur ear

and u blush so bad

y/n: LAMSOSOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

jin: i don’t care take ur 26 year old lisp bitch

y/n: all this because of a few stupid shippers?

jin: he looks at you a lot

and you look at him

A LOT

there are so many videos

you look at him like you wanna get him pregnant

y/n: what the fuck

jin: you should only look at me like that

y/n: i’m sorry????

jin: i don’t care for your sorry

or this situation

or that ur new man is 26

i don’t CARE

y/n: ok baby

jin: if i smoked i would light a cigarette rn

y/n: i believe you

jin: good

would be like a chain smoker rn

y/n: i believe you baby

jin: and i’m not talking about that little emo band thing or whatever

y/n: didn’t think you were

jin: me

cuz i’m i’m a chain smoker in spirit

y/n: !!!

jin: girlfriend

y/n: boyfriend

jin: ….

so like i’m gonna be honest

y/n: ok

jin: i do care

y/n: no way

jin: ik it’s hard to believe cuz i’m a good actor and all

y/n: naturally

jin: but wow why is he looking at you like he needs to be inside of you

y/n: ok ew?

jin: right i was thinking the same thing

y/n: why would you say that

jin: WHY WOULD HE LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAt?????????

y/n: let’s end this conversation

jin: let’s end his life

y/n: gn jin

jin: think about it

y/n: no

jin: when he looks at you do you feel uncomfortable

y/n: i’m uncomfortable rn

jin: OHMYGOD IS HE WITH YOU

IS HE LOOKING????

BABE TELL ME

y/n: no

jin: i’m literally a chain smoker

in spirit

cuz smoking ages you

look at jungkook 26 looking 206

y/n: goodnight jin

jin: so is ur new man with u or not??

y/n: no jin

goodnight

jin: good i didn’t even care anyways

YOONGI -

yoongi: fuck you

you know what you did

y/n: contrary to popular belief i am unfortunately not all knowing nor am i a mind reader

yoongi: kill yourself

y/n: full of love and joy today i see <3

yoongi: do you know

how may edits i’ve seen of that one clip of you and soobin

why is he smiling so hard at you???

tf is his issue

ur not fucking funny at all trust me i know

and you look really good

why are you looking good around other people???

and WHY did you touch him

and why the fuck did he blush so hard?

you need to kill yourself it’s the only option

y/n: strange way of telling me ur deeply in love with me but i’ll take it

yoongi: kill yourself

y/n: WAIT WDYM IM NOT FUNNY

yoongi: am i laughing rn?

y/n: okay that’s not how being funny works

it comes naturally

yoongi: naturally it doesn’t come to you and that’s fine

y/n: yes it does

soobin thinks i’m funny

and so does everyone else

yoongi: soobin doesn’t count cuz he’s a loser

he was also looking at ur tits the whole time i would be smiling if ur tits were in my face too

and everyone else? yeah shut up

ur not funny and that’s ok

y/n: HE WAS NOT

just ur a sick pervert doesn’t mean every man i come into contact is as well

soobin is a nice respectful young man

and are you trying to say my only personality trait is my tits????

that’s real fucked up actually!!!

yoongi: i mean it’s not ur humour thats for sure

y/n: and you think ur comedian of the year?

yoongi: i pull my weight

y/n: YOONGI

baby

babe

be fr

i’m the funny one in this relationship and that’s ok

your good at other things

yoongi: that’s crazy

we must be a really unfunny couple then yikes

y/n: what is ur beef?

yoongi: you and soobin

y/n: soobin is a baby to me

there is no me and soobin

yoongi: yeah ok

he’s 6 ft yk?

y/n: i know

stood next to him

yoongi: did you compare hand sizes

y/n: are you calling me a whore?

yoongi: is he funny?

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: is he funnier than me??

y/n: no yoongi

yoongi: wow that’s insane thought i wasn’t funny??????

soobin must have the personality of a fucking rock then

y/n: rolling my eyes real hard rn

yoongi: is he a good kisser?

y/n: ok now ur being ridiculous

yoongi: you touched his arm

y/n: he’s suit was fucked up

yoongi: have you imagined him in a wedding suit

y/n: what

yoongi: was his skin soft when you touched him

y/n: again he was wearing suit didn’t feel his skin at all

yoongi: bet you wanted to

y/n: ur impossible actually

incoming FaceTime call from yoongi :3

yoongi: answer me

y/n: are you going to apologise for telling me to kms

yoongi: no

want to see ur pretty face tho

answer pls

y/n: why would i answer after that

yoongi: pls

y/n: you want me so bad

yoongi: me or soobin?

y/n: …

yoongi: ok sorry

answer :3

JUNGKOOK -

jk: hey can wonbin do a kick flip?

y/n: idk probably

jk: wkjsjsjxjdjswiiwskdkekekdkwkke KSSKXKSKSKSKCKDMDKDJDJSKDKKKWOQWOSODKDKSKDKDJEKDKDKSKDDKDKDKKDKSKDKDKDKDKKCKMDKDCDKDKDKKDKDKFDKDKKDKDKDDKKDDKDKDKDKKDKDKDKDDJDKDKKDKDKDKDKSKDKDKDKDKDKKDKDKDDKKDDKDKDKFKDKDKDKAKS/@@:@;’ wmkdkdkdkdkd sskskdk kddkmdmdmdxm-@/29/929920//09/9/9:9

y/n: woah ok?

you don’t even skate why does this matter?

jk: exactly

y/n: i’m not following

jk: do you know his songs?

y/n: pulling back the sirennnnnnnnnnnn

jk:😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n: ??

you literally asked me to? why are you crying

jk: do you have his number?

y/n: yeah

jk: /‘sjdjdjcjkdidfkckkdkfkdkdk&/&&/&/8/88/8/8/8/88/8818:’snn@2@:’dndn’dmn**$*****$\$$\$$€!!!!’annanjjjsnsnsndjxjxjjxjjxjzjj&/&:&:&/&7(7(7(7(&?&!@!@)&();6;6:5;7)&??,(:3-;:&)9!£0£@!&()::54:(,£,&?@£9£0&0£9£9£9)&(7;5:437)&££9&9)@(7(7(6(£?&!9&0@!’ b gxfxgxgstdgcnjhkbvkhnb hchdtsrdhchvkhopjpjojonobkvjbjvgihighij

y/n: jungkook…

jk: has he ever looked you in the eyes?

y/n: babe

jk: he has hasn’t he?

KILL ME NOWWWWWWWWEEWWWWWEJEJEJJEJEJWJWWWWENENEJEJEJNEJEJEENENNENNWJEJEJEJJEJWJEJEJEJEJEJEEJJWJWEJJEJWJWJWJWJEJEJEJENEJEJEJEJEJEJEJJEEJJEJEJJWJEJWJWJJWWJJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJJWJWNWNWNWNWWNWNWNWNWNWNWNENENNENENENENDNRNNRNDNNRNDNENENNENENENENENENENENNE

but can even sing?

y/n: yes kook

that is literally his job

jk: NOOSIEOSOSOOSOSOSOOOOO SNJSJSJDJDJSJSJDNMDNDMDNCMDMNDNDMDNDNDNDNDNDNNXJDJDN SNJSJSNDMDMDNDNDJDKXJDCJNXXNNCDNNXNXNX SJSJZKSJXNSJXJX JSJXMMXMX JXNXNDNNXNNDXNSNDN SJDJNDNXNXJXJX JSJXJXNXJCXJXJSISKS SJDJDJNDNDNDNDKNXXND NSJXJJDJXJDJD NJDJDJSJSJSJDJKDKDD DNDJKXKXKDXNXJX JSJDNDJDJSKISISOSKSKKS

there are so many tears in my eyes i can’t see

i cant think

i cant be

my left lung has given out and i’m losing hearing in both my ears

they are probably gonna have to amputate both my big toes and a couple fingers

it’s fading too black

baby

babe

pretty girl

can you hear me

do you care for me

did you ever care

did you even love me

y/n: jeon jungkook

jk: loml

y/n: get over it

jk: ok

y/n: ….

jk: i’m sorry

i love you

what even is a wonbin?

my biggest enemy in this life thats who

y/n: what happened to being sorry and over it?

jk: but babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

everyone is saying he’s like in love with you

and he can do a kick flip

what if you pick him

y/n: i said he could probably do a kick flip

not that he actually can

why does that even matter?

jk: cuz kick flips are cool

and bitch takeable

y/n: what

jk: he might pop a kick flip out of nowhere and steal you

i cant have that

y/n: learn how to kick flip then idk?

jk: BUT YOU TOOK MY SKATEBOARD AWAY

y/n: oh yeah i did

didnt you almost brake ur face?????

AND you kept riding it in the house

pretty reasonable of me

jk: so what ur saying that ur waiting for wonbin to kick flip in front of you

y/n: ?????????

no

jungkook i am not leaving u for wonbin

jk: you say that but when he drops the most sexiest panty dropping kick flip known to man right in front of you i’m gonna be left single and depressed

y/n: you are stressing me out

jk: can i have the skateboard back

y/n: no

jk: 😞

Y/n: i said no jungkook

jk: 😕

y/n: stop

jk: ☹️

y/n: fine whatever idk break all ur bones

jk: kick flip kook coming soon >.<

JIMIN -

jimin: pretend i’m wonho for a second ok?

y/n: wonho?

jimin: yeah wonho

y/n: boob

jimin: hey lol ur really pretty 😍 😋❤️‍🔥 you should totally ditch that ugly lame excuse of a boyfriend you have (jimin) 🤢🤮 and come be my girl 💯🤗🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️

y/n: boob 🤤

jimin: be mine

y/n: show me ur tits

jimin: u fucking cheating bitch

y/n: wonho don’t be mean 😢

jimin: i am no longer wonho

i am jimin

y/n: lame

turn back

we want wonho

we want wonho

jimin: who is we

y/n: me and the voices in my head idk

jimin: even the voices not even fucking with me anymore???

ohmygod

the wonho shippers were right

y/n: what the shippers saying

jimin: “y/n just looks so bored with jimin” “did you see her smile when wonho was mentioned”

y/n: WAITTTT THEY SPITTING 🙏🏽🔥🔥🔥

jimin: do you know how insane that is

LIKE YOU LOOK BORED WITH ME

BABE LIKE THATS SO INSANE

y/n: ig u got to get ur funny up idk

jimin: do you understand how this is impacting my mental health

y/n: i like when their a bit insane dw 😍

jimin: i’m real fucking insane

i hear voices

constantly

they tell me to do things

i listen to jay park

you like that huh?

y/n: ok calm down i said a bit insane not jay park lover insane

wtf is wrong with you

jimin: are you bored

y/n: sorry what were you saying i almost felt asleep

jimin: i hope wonho treats you right

y/n: yk i’m tit level to wonho

isn’t that perfect

my face just all up in there

constantly

jimin: me and him are the same height?

y/n: ok but it’s more exciting with wonho

jimin: should i get a boob job???

y/n: please

jimin: WOW

the standards these days are insane

you were supposed to tell me my body is perfect the way it is

y/n: it is

jimin: wow ur so convincing!!!

y/n: i mean it fr fr babe love u body yk that

little tittes matter too

im for the cause!!!!!!!!!!

jimin: i came to you for love and reassurance

y/n: i think i provided

jimin: i’m gonna kill myself infront on wonho

so he’s traumatised

y/n: i did say i like them a bit insane

but whose to say he’ll go insane from watching YOU die????

jimin: excuse me?

y/n: i’m just saying

jimin: a lot of people would go insane from watching ME die

y/n: not wonho

jimin: you can never be too sure

y/n: no i’m sure

jimin: are you trying to find out rn???

y/n: do it

you won’t

jimin: do you love me be honest

y/n: the most

jimin: fucking simp lmao

NAMJOON -

y/n: HIIIIIII JOONIE 😝😍

namjoon: hi

y/n: ????????????????????????????????

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

namjoon: ?

y/n: where is my “hi love”

where is the love

where is the life

not even a silly emoji???????????

who took my bitch

namjoon: death soon i hope

y/n: emo era joon omg?

namjoon: where are u rn?

y/n: some boba place with tae and kook

namjoon: oh

we’ve never gotten boba together

y/n: you don’t like boba joon??

namjoon: taste buds change??

y/n: we can go on a boba date tomorrow if you want?

namjoon: no

y/n: LAMOSOSK

ok babe

namjoon: yk people think ur fucking tae?

y/n: ew

namjoon: i’m not joking

like people think you’re cheating on me with tae

y/n: people always think i’m cheating

namjoon: yeah…

but like not with tae :/

and there isn’t always all these edits and stuff

people are even in our weverse talking about it

y/n: people are so silly

namjoon: yeah

…

why are you calling me?

y/n: why aren’t you answering?

namjoon: don’t want to interrupt ur date

y/n: my date???

namjoon: your date.

y/n: namjoon

namjoon: yeah

y/n: ur being silly

namjoon: in this clip ur looking at tae like he hung the all stars in the sky for you or something

y/n: get off twitter

namjoon: i’m gonna end my life

y/n: babe

namjoon: cheater 😔

y/n: jonnie r u jealous rn >.<

namjoon: i’m not jealous

y/n: what are you then?

namjoon: heartbroken?

sad

depressed

on the verge of suicide

y/n: tipsy?

namjoon: NO HAHA WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT??????

y/n: yeah thought so

this is a little out of character of you babe

kinda jungkook core idk

namjoon: did you just compare me to jungkook???????????????????????

do you want me to kill myself that bad

oh my god

are you fucking jungkook too??????

y/n: ?????

namjoon: is boba code for sex

y/n: no namjoon

namjoon: yeah ok

cheater 😞

after i learned what rizz was for you..

y/n: i’m am not fucking tae or jungkook my love

namjoon: was my rizz not good enough

y/n: are you listening to me joonie????

namjoon: it wasn’t was it

ofc it wasn’t

i’m sorry i wasn’t good enough

sorry i didn’t have enough rizz

i’m really sorry

y/n: namjoon

namjoon: no you know what

i really tried it wasn’t my fault

no one deserves to be cheated on like this

it’s all your fault

y/n: oh

namjoon: i’m guilt tripping you

y/n: what

namjoon: are you coming home now?

y/n: ???

namjoon: baby

y/n: you can’t tell someone ur guilt tripping them

that’s not how it works

namjoon: baby i’m not guilt tripping you

y/n: it’s too late now

i know what ur doing

namjoon: baby

y/n: wait…..

namjoon: waiting

y/n: no

ur not

namjoon: baby what’s wrong???

y/n: baby?

don’t tell me ur horny rn joon

namjoon: would that be so bad baby?

y/n: these mood swings??? insane actually

thought i was a cheater

now you wanna fuck???

namjoon: life is crazy

are you coming home???

or would you rather fuck taehyung instead

my fault

i’ll just go…

y/n: ur toxic

namjoon: ur a cheater

come home cheater

y/n: yeah yeah give me 20

HOSEOK -

hobi: hawk putuh

ik ur awake

and i know you see these rumours

y/n: did you just fucking spit on me??

hobi: yeah and what

will do it again

hawk putuh

told you

i don’t lie in these parts of town

don’t enjoy it too much

flipping freak

y/n: what rumours

hobi: don’t ignore my second spit wtf

y/n: shut up

hobi: u trying to get drunk and nasty rn? 😝

y/n: ?no

hobi: no u right we supposed to be arguing

y/n: i’m always right

and why are we supposed to be arguing?

hobi: umm that’s NOT true

and people are literally shipping you with mingyu rn…

y/n: how is that my fault

hobi: WRONG ANSWER

hawk putuh

y/n: stop spitting on me

hobi: you like it

y/n: no i don’t

hobi: wow you’ve changed

you used to like it

did mingyu change you???

where is the y/n i know and love

where is my y/n who likes spit

you should never let a man change you

be who you are

and what who you are is my spit loving girlfriend so act like it

y/n: i have never let you spit on me

like ever

hobi: why is that ur focus rn

you should be denying the fact that you’ve changed for mingyu

y/n: i haven’t changed for mingyu and i don’t like spit leave me alone

it’s 2 am hoseok

hobi: why are they shipping you with him what the hell pretty 😞

i’m in my feels rn

feeling aju not fucking nice rn

y/n: cheer up

hobi: no

y/n: ok fuck you then

hobi: i bet mingyu is giggling and blushing and at all of these stupid edits

UGH

by bts

i’m sick to my stomach

y/n: get better

hobi: word on the street is head makes the pain go away

y/n: on the street by jhope ft jcole

hobi: would you give head to mingyu be honest

y/n: you don’t want my honesty right now…

hobi: i do

y/n: let’s just say

hobi: NVM

nvm

let’s not say anything

how about we just hold hands at look each other deeply in the eyes

y/n: i’m cool with that

hobi: are you cool with mingyu

y/n: cool with you by newjeans

hobi: me?

little old me >.<

y/n: always you

hobi: lol stop loveboming me wtf

y/n: yeah kys

about to give mingyu the sloppiest top known to man

hobi: mingyu doesn’t even like girls like you

y/n: girls like me???

hobi: yeah

i don’t need to explain i think you get it

y/n: are you calling me ugly rn…

hobi: you said it not me

y/n: ok

hobi: ok

y/n: hawk putuh

hobi: you didn’t….

y/n: i did

hobi: what fuck

y/n: yeah and what

hobi: what if i said

y/n: no

hobi: yeah

i enjoyed it real bad

do it again

let me catch it this time

😋

y/n: fuck off fuck you leave me alone

hobi: mingyu would never treat you like i do

y/n: i’m sold

tell mingyu i’m on my way

hobi: …

—

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies

lowkey hating joons and kooks but it’s okay better shit to come this just my warm up ong 🙏🏽💯🔥

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts × reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon × reader #jin × reader #yoongi × reader #hoseok × reader #jimin × reader #taehyung × reader #jungkook × reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga x reader #v × reader #ihope × reader #hobi x reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[meebles]

A snippet from my Codywan Bodyswap!AU that I’m working on:

Obi-Wan grunts, blinking as he comes to. His vision swims before it snaps to a sudden clarity. All at once, he realizes three things that are very, very wrong.

First, and most worryingly, he cannot feel the Force as he normally does. He’s not completely cut off, but only just.

Second, he’s certain he was in his quarters when he dozed off. Now he finds himself in a rarely-used storage room deep in the Negotiator’s sublevels, where the men keep their homebrew that Obi-Wan definitely doesn’t know about. He’s slumped against a wall, with the majority of Ghost Company peering down at him in various states of confusion.

Third, is that he’s certain his men just called him Cody.

“What… ?” he starts, staring down at his cuisse-clad thighs. Frowning, he moves to trace a finger across the stripe of gold paint running across the right, only to blink down at a hand that isn’t his own.

Ah, Sith hells.

“I think you should come to medical,” he hears Scabs say, and Obi-Wan agrees, but first they’ll have to go find—

“Oh, Force, Cody— ”

He ignores the odd looks the troopers give him, the reality of the situation suddenly gripping him like a vice. Cody, thrust into his body, but his mind untrained and unused to sensing the living Force that surrounds them—

“Scabs, I need you to get a sedative and meet me at— at the General’s room,” he states as he fully gathers himself upright, adjusting for his new center of gravity.

His CMO blinks at him. “What— the General? What are you— ?”

“I’ll meet you there and explain, just, please. A sedative,” he manages, already opening the doors. He looks back for a split-second to see Scabs nod in affirmative, before rushing out of the storage room.

Unfortunately, his own quarters are entirely on the other side of the venator. He runs past a few troopers, who startle at his haste, but he just calls back an all clear and doesn’t stop running, he needs to get to Cody—

After what feels like a tenday on a blessedly empty turbo-lift, Obi-Wan finally makes it to his quarters. He punches in the override and the door slides open, revealing the exact sight he feared— his own body, hunched over on the floor, clutching his head as he shakes—

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling beside him, and Cody jolts, staring up at him with trembling eyes.

“Vod?” he asks in Obi-Wan’s voice, before his eyes widen impossibly further when they land on the scar at his temple, his own scar. “What is— augh!”

Obi-Wan curses under his breath, catching Cody as his eyes roll back, body slacking. He pulls him into his lap, resting his head as gently as he can against his armored thighs.

“Cody, my dear, it’s me, it’s Obi-Wan,” he says, holding Cody’s quavering form as still as he can. “Just focus on me, focus on my voice, just my voice, right here, with you.”

“Can’t— ” Cody spits out, head shaking. “It’s too much, I can’t— ”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’m so sorry, just try for me, please? Just try, it’s just me and you here together, no one else, just us… ”

Obi-Wan keeps muttering what’s probably nonsense, but he needs to give Cody some sort of anchor, something to focus on instead of the thousands of living souls he can suddenly sense aboard the ship, something present and definite in the entirety of the Force that he’s now privy to.

Cody groans, pressing himself further into Obi-Wan’s lap. “Please, make it stop, make it stop— ”

“Cody— what happened to the General?!”

Obi-Wan looks up and sees Scabs in the doorway, and bites back a sigh of relief. He’s about to explain when his medic is suddenly kneeling by his side, shaking his head.

“Fuck— that machine, it worked, didn’t it?” he says, opening his supply bag.

“Yes, it did.” Why the effects were so delayed, Obi-Wan has no idea, but right now it doesn’t matter. “And Cody— he’s not used to how my body senses the Force, it’s too much for him all at once.”

“I understand,” Scabs states, prepping the sedative. “Hold him steady, please. Bare his neck.”

Obi-Wan does as he’s told, chest clenching as he stares at Cody’s unseeing eyes. It’s a terrible solace when Scabs injects the needle and seconds later, they fall shut.

#codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #codywan fic #my fic #bodyswap au #scabs is my medic oc #meebles writes

[zoros-fourth-sword]

LAW x FEM READER

Request Post:

@wonder-landscape- Well, I had an idea not long ago about pussy drunk Law or Sabo. They start eating you out, thrusting only to feel how wet you get, forcing your legs open once your are trembling in overstimulation.

{MDNI 18+ only}

This oneshot is a 18+ oneshot so read at your own risk

This oneshot contains the following: fingering, sweet name calling, overstimulation, dom energy, cussing, and more

SUB FEM READER x DOM LAW

MY WRITING SUCKS SO BEWARE

“Y/N-swan we have arrived at our destination” Sanji yells barging into the library with hearts in his eyes interrupting my studying

“Ah okay thank you Sanji I’ll be out in a sec let me clean up first” I say to the blonde cook before he went back outside to the deck

I quickly began gathering and cleaning up my belongings making sure it was spotless so I don’t piss off a certain cyborg and I also respect Sunny she don’t deserve that kind of treatment after all

I soon make my way outside to the deck only to see Sanji and nami

“Y/N” luffy screamed jumping into my arms and burying his head into my chest

“I missed you” Luffy said hugging me tighter

“I live with you luffy but I missed you too” i chuckled to the boy before hugging him back

“That don’t mean crap but anyway I decided that we should stay on the island for the rest of the week” luffy said releasing me from the hug

“That sounds like a good idea I need to stock up the fridge because someone keeps eating everything” Sanji said giving the biggest glare that he could muster on his face to luffy

“Yea my bad” luffy mumbled looking at the floor

“Screw the food I get to go shopping” nami said with hearts in her eyes

“By the way luffy where’s the rest of the crew” I ask my captain noticing that the rest of the crew was gone

“Oh yea they decided go on ahead without us and Law is in his study” luffy said pointing in the direction of Laws office

“Ah okay then I guess I’m going to stay put and wait on Law” I say to my captain feeling bad that Laws on the ship alone

“Fine by me I’m going to go help Sanji pick out the food” luffy said practically drooling out the mouth before taking off full speed into town leaving a trail of dust behind trying to catch up with Sanji

“That idiot always thinking with his stomach” nami mumbled out

“But anyway I’m going to head out Y/N I’ll make sure to bring you something back” nami said making her towards me before giving me a hug

“Okay be safe and I’ll see you later” i say back gladly accepting her hug

I lightly knock on Laws office door waiting for him to give me the queue that it was okay for me to enter

“Come in” Law said

I quickly enter the room to see law at his desk reading something from one of his medical books

“Ah Y/N what ya need” Law asked once he noticed me rolling his chair around with one leg in his lap

“Um uh- nothing I was just going to wait on you the rest of the crew decided to go ahead” i struggle to say putting my hands behind my back to fiddle with my fingers to calm my nerves

“how sweet of you” Law chuckled out as he looked me up and down

“Are you okay Y/N your face is red are you sick” Law asked concerned quickly getting up out his chair to walk towards me

“Um uh- yea I’m just hot” i say in a panic due to the fact that he was standing right in-front of me

“Are you sure your quite red Y/N” Law asked tracing his index finger over my cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear

Y yes- I’m fine I’m just hot I swear” I stutter out causing my face to heat up even more

“Are you sure” Law asked putting his finger under my chin slightly lifting my head up to look at him and once I seen the expression oh his face all I wanted to do was punch him

The mother fucker had the most shit eating smirk plastered on his face he’s fucking toying with me and he knows it

“You know Y/N you don’t have to lie to me” Law said still looking down at me

“Huh bu- but I’m not lying” I stutter

“Mhm you know it really makes my dick hard to know that I make you this flushed and bothered” Law said softly tracing his finger over my cheek causing me to heat up even more

“Wha- what did you just say” I gasp out my eyes nearly popping out of my head

“You heard me I haven’t had the opportunity to get you alone we have been sailing for quite some time haven’t we” Law chuckled out

Did I die and go to heaven what the fuck this can’t be real I have to be dreaming

“Can I ask you a question Y/N” Law asked

I simply just nod my head yes not being able to form a sentence from my mouth

“Can I kiss you” law asked tracing his finger over my bottom lip

What the heck is happening right now I’ve thought about this moment in my head a million times but never did I once ever think it would become a reality

I simply nod once again still in shock from the situation

Before anything else could happen Laws lips were on mine in a instant and by the force of it I could tell this man has waited along time to do this i quickly warp my arms around his neck it slightly being struggle due to the height difference

“Fuck Y/N please let me make you feel good” Law asked pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against mine

“O- okay” I struggle to say slightly lightheaded from loss of air and the intoxicating taste of Laws lips

In one swift motion Law picked me up causing me to wrap my legs around his waist

Law made his way towards his desk pushing everything on the floor before placing me on it

He took a step back to get a good look at me my hair was a slight mess my cheeks were flushed and my lips were plump from the make out section we just had a second ago

“Shit Y/N your fucking beautiful” Law hummed out before taking his hat off along with his coat and placing it aside so it wasn’t in the way

Law soon made his way back towards me standing between my open thighs

“Are you sure about this” Law asked gently brushing my cheek

“I’m more then sure” I say looking up at Law

Before anyone could say another word Laws lips were back on mine I quickly wrap my arms back around his neck without hesitation

“You know how long I have been waiting for this” Law said pulling away from the kiss so he trace his kisses down my neck

“Fuck baby your so sexy” Law said as he began to grinding his hard on against my core

Causing me to let out small whimpers and moans from the friction

“I bet your fucking drenched” Law growled out adding more force to his grinds

The movement was Causing my skin to feel like it was on fire my body desperately needed to get out of these clothes

I quickly bring my hands down to the button of my jeans slightly struggling due to my nerves I guess Law got the idea so he replaced my hands with his swiftly unbuttoning my jeans before pulling them down my legs leaving me in only my crop top and underwear

“Just lay back and relax babydoll” Law said as he lowered himself to his knees so that his head was right in front of my clothed core

Law hooked his tattooed fingers into the waistband of my underwear before pulling them down my legs

“Fuck babydoll look how wet you are” Law hummed out tracing his fingers through my folds causing me to jerk backwards from the contact

“Fuck” i wine out leaning my head back while gripping the sides of the desk

“I know baby I know just lay back and I’ll make you feel good” Law said with a gentle tone before burying his face into my throbbing core

“Fuck Law” i moan out feeling his warm tongue against my core

“Mhm” hummed out causing vibrations to run up my body adding more pleasure

“Fuck Law that feels so good” i moan out grateful that it was just me and him on the ship right now

Law began flicking my sensitive bud back and forth with the tip of his tongue causing my legs to shake

“Fuck law” I squeal out from the pleasure he’s causing my body

Law took notice so he decided to slip one of his long tattooed fingers into my core causing me to roll my eyes in the back of my head nearly seeing stars

“Fuck law I can’t” i moun out grabbing a fist full of his hair trying to push him away

Law let out a growl before pulling me closer to his face by my thighs

“Fuck fuck fuck Law I can’t” I say trying to pull away

Law become irritated so he landed a harsh slap against my thigh causing me to moan out from pain and pleasure

“Fuck law you feel so good” i moan out as my whole body began shaking uncontrollably letting Law know I was close to my release

Laws mouth become more aggressive causing my whole body to tighten up making me see littoral stars

“FUCK” i moun out one last time before realeasing all over Laws face

I quickly look down at Law to see that his eyes were hooded and his dark hair was a mess he looked fucking gorgeous

“Fuck Y/N I could have you for breakfast lunch and dinner your fucking delicious” law said licking my juices off his lips

I had to rewrite this because tumblr deleted my last one I freaking cried bro so this one isn’t as good as the first one 😖😭

#one piece smut #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law smut #law one piece #one piece oneshots #smut

[inuyashaluver]

could you write a fic for either feli or leila? maybe smth like her and r have been soft launching and suddenly they hard launch?

launch party - felicitas rauch

felicitas rauch x reader

description: in which you and your secret girlfriend slowly launch your relationship to the world

warnings: new format! - little writing, more instagram posts, german in bold italics!, swearing

a/n: it’s feli time!! thank you for the request! enjoy! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, felicitas had been dating for just over 4 years. the two of you were best friends for years, ever since the youth teams, through endless years of pining and tension, felicitas finally plucked up the courage to ask you out after an argument.

you’d been asked out on a date by this random girl, the only reason why you agreed was in full confidence that felicitas didn’t like you, oh boy were you wrong.

“i don’t think you should go” felicitas grumbled, sitting on your bed in your shared apartment. you were holding up different outfits to your (her) oversized shirt. you look over at her confused through the mirror.

“what, why?” a hint of annoyance in your tone, her features were overcome with anger. “she’s probably using you” felicitas rolls her eyes when you pull out another short outfit up to your body. you let out a sigh, throwing the outfit on the floor and moving to stand in between her legs, you cross your arms and glare at the girl below you.

“what do you care?” she shakes her head, putting her hands on your hips to pull you slightly closer, “of course i care, häschen (bunny)!” you look at her slightly confused as to why she was so angry, “i care because i love you!” felicitas squeezes your hips, she looks just as shocked at you.

“i mean-” she starts but you silence her with a searing kiss, whining into her mouth when she grabs the back of your head, pulling you onto her lap and slipping her tongue in your mouth. she pulls you closer when you place your hands on either side of her neck, groaning when your nails graze the skin there. you pull away breathlessly, both of you staring at each other with swollen lips and dilated pupils. “don’t go” she pleads, you smile gently at her, “never” you whisper against her lips, placing another kiss there

—

the years went by, you were both in the most loving and special relationship ever. your years as best friends made things so easy, you knew each other so well, often being able to communicate with just facial expressions.

everything was just perfect, both of you were with your dream girl, your teams were playing well, you were able to play together and see each other everyday without getting sick of each other, it was bliss.

the two of you kept your relationship quiet from the media, all your friends and family knew and that’s how you both liked it. well…until you started getting shipped with another player on the wolfsburg team. felicitas was pissed to say the least, you were her girl, and she was determined for everyone to know it.

“you’re my girlfriend! why the fuck would anyone think you’re dating her?” felicitas sulks, lying face first into the bed. you move to straddle her lower back, placing a trail of kisses from the top of her neck to her upper back. she grins into the sheets, reaching her hands back to hold your thighs. “feli” you whisper in her ear, she moves to lay on her back, grinning up at you cheekily as you straddled her waist.

“sonnenschein (sunshine)” she coos, smiling up at you, she runs her hands up and down your thighs, you smile and lean forward, placing a sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away slightly, “liebe meines lebens (love of my life), i’m yours, i always will be” she smiles shyly, nodding her head along with your words.

“my girl, i’m yours forever and always” she smiles, letting out a bright laugh when you settle your weight on top of her, completely cuddling her with your entire body. she kisses your neck gently, “i think we should tell people” she whispers, you hover over her slightly, “okay” you smile, kissing her cheek, “okay” she breathes out, rolling you over so she can lie on top of you this time, peppering your entire face with tiny kisses, smiling into them when you laugh at her contact.

and so, the two of you slowly began your soft launch on instagram.

—

liked by feli_rauch and 44,232 others

yourname: it’s getting cold

view all comments

feli_rauch: if we cuddle, we can get warm

↳ yourname: you’re so right!

liked by yourname and 44,232 others

feli_rauch: meine bessere hälfte (my better half)

view all comments

yourname: two menus?! two hands?!

↳ feli_rauch: i have two hands and i was hungry?

↳ yourname: righttttt

liked by feli_rauch and 44,232 others

yourname: my chauffeur is hot

view all comments

feli_rauch: she’s hot

↳ yourname: she’s really hot and has a big ego

↳ feli_rauch: hm sounds familiar

↳ yourname: yeah, you may know her

liked by yourname and 44,232 others

feli_rauch: mine’s better

view all comments

yourname: it’s not even finished

↳ feli_rauch: mine was still better

↳ yourname: i want an apology

↳ feli_rauch: liebling (darling), i’m sorry

liked by feli_rauch and 44,232 others

yourname: i love tulips!

view all comments

feli_rauch: tulips love you

↳ yourname: smooth

↳ feli_rauch: mhm

feli_rauch: tulips are very pretty too

liked by feli_rauch and 44,232 others

yourname: she paid for my dinner?!

view all comments

feli_rauch: i always pay

↳ yourname: thanks, baby

↳ feli_rauch: oh?

liked by yourname and 44,232 others

feli_rauch: häschen (bunny) got a goal

view all comments

yourname: i’m too good

↳ feli_rauch: yes, you are

↳ yourname: i learnt from the best teacher

↳ feli_rauch: who?

↳ yourname: my girlfriend

↳ feli_rauch: ah i see

liked by yourname and 44,232 others

feli_rauch: i’m the best teacher i guess, my girlfriend told me @/yourname

view all comments

yourname: your girlfriend is very smart

↳ feli_rauch: you’re my girlfriend

↳ yourname: am i?

↳ feli_rauch: watch it.

↳ yourname: I AM!!!!!!!

all your posts had blown up, numerous people flooded your comments with messages like: “i knew it!” “no way!”, “parents” bringing big smiles to both you and felicita’s face.

let’s just say, no one is shipping you with your other wolfsburg teammate, the only one you belonged to is felicitas, and both of you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #felicitas rauch #feli rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader

[diorsluv]

feather , part 21

“ send a pic ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

_quinnhughes

liked by jackhughes, mackie.samo, yourusername, and 61,963 others

_quinnhughes went out with jack and our luke replacement 🙏

tagged: jackhughes, yourusername

view all comments

trevorzegras sleepy girl lmaooo

→ _quinnhughes fr this kid brought a whole body pillow in my car

→ yourusername they dragged me out of my bed at 5 in the morning 🙄🙄

rutgermcgroarty “luke replacement” is wild

→ _quinnhughes she agreed and he didn’t

→ yourusername more like they could drag me into their car but they couldn’t drag him

→ lhughes_06 i’m just a little hurt

username13 their relationship with her is the cutest thing ever

yourusername photo proof that jack enjoys my “green juice”

→ jackhughes yeah yeah whatever

→ markestapa HEY YOU NEVER MADE IT FOR US

→ mackie.samo YEAH WHERES OUR GREEN JUICE

username45 the sleeping mask is so relatable

username98 quinn’s pics are so cinematic

adamfantilli does she just sleep in everyone’s car

→ _quinnhughes yes

→ markestapa sprawls all the way out in the backseat

→ jackhughes sprawls out in shotgun too

→ trevorzegras she’s like a starfish

→ _alexturcotte she smacked me in the face once

→ yourusername I DID NOT.

→ mackie.samo she’s fallen asleep with her legs in my lap too many times 😒

→ lhughes_06 she’s fallen asleep with her head in my lap too many times 🙄

→ edwards.73 ok luke i see u

username34 jack LMAOOOO

username11 don’t do my girl like that she’s more than a luke replacement 🙄

→ yourusername 🗣️🗣️

luca.fantilli lil drizz needs to give us the fit check rn

→ _quinnhughes don’t obsess over her in my comments 🙄

→ yourusername shush quinny

→ yourusername and also it’s mark’s hoodie, target sweatpants and my sleeping mask 😈😈

→ luca.fantilli that’s not a fit check send me a pic

→ yourusername no

→ lhughes_06 MARK’S hoodie??

markestapa yo that’s my hoodie ask her where she got it from

→ jackhughes she said and i quote “your dresser”

→ yourusername oops

→ lhughes_06 YOUR hoodie??

dylanduke25 hughesy is no bueno

→ jackhughes i’m muy bien

→ _quinnhughes estoy más o menos

→ yourusername don’t use google translate that’s cheating _quinnhughes

→ lhughes_06 muy mal, no me gustan mis hermanos ni uno de mis mejores amigos porque ellos son pendejos y los odio

→ yourusername lukey babes we know you used google translate too 😭😭

→ jackhughes he and quinn are the same

yourusername

liked by dylanduke25, edwards.73, rutgermcgroarty, and 82,964 others

yourusername adam fell asleep questionably and luca straightening my hair should prob be a fire hazard but i finally spent sum time w my fav boys 🫶🫶

tagged: adamfantilli, luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty, mackie.samo, edwards.73, dylanduke25, markestapa

view all comments

luca.fantilli oh my god i’m a fav boy

→ yourusername only because you didn’t burn the house down with my straightener in your hands

trevorzegras where’s moose

→ yourusername gone

→ edwards.73 he ditched us 😒

→ missseraphina with me!

→ trevorzegras please god no

_quinnhughes i don’t understand how my brother can get what he’s wanted for years while also simultaneously fucking it all up

→ yourusername fr it’s crazy

→ jackhughes LMAOOO he showed me ur comment and started whining

rutgermcgroarty i really struggled carrying you down that street

→ yourusername are you saying what i think you’re saying 🤨

→ rutgermcgroarty WHAT NO

→ yourusername i think ur just weak! 🙄🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty I WAS RUNNING

username67 i love these little dumps when she hangs out w them

username9 the titanic recreation is amazing

username27 if you really think about it we could ship her with any of them

→ username12 mcdrysdale??? IT SOUNDS LIKE A MCDONALDS MEAL LMAOO

→ username78 drystilli

→ username35 drystapa ofc

→ username66 dredwards 💀

→ username90 dukedale (or drysduke??)

→ username4 dryskevich.. wth why does it sound like a normal last name

→ username51 dryshughes 🔛🔝

adamfantilli IT WAS REALLY COLD

→ yourusername so u disregarded the blankets on the other couch and stole everyone’s pillows

→ adamfantilli yes

→ yourusername i understand

→ luca.fantilli she has a soft spot for u she replaced all the pillows and gave u like three blankets 🙄

markestapa eddy the jack to my rose 😘😘

→ edwards.73 marky the rose to my jack 😘😘

→ yourusername stop flirting and get out of my comments 😐😐

→ markestapa no i don’t think so ‼️‼️

→ edwards.73 stop being a hater yourusername 🙄🙄

→ mackie.samo i feel left out i wanna join 😞😞

→ yourusername aww ofc mack 🤗🤗

→ dylanduke25 me too 😊😊

→ yourusername i mean i guesssss 🙂🙂

→ lhughes_06 can i join too 😇😇

→ yourusername no 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

lhughes_06 damn wish i could’ve joined

→ dylanduke25 😐

→ markestapa 😑

→ edwards.73 😐

→ yourusername is that supposed to be the emoji blinking

→ mackie.samo 😐😑😐 yourusername

→ missseraphina yeah but you had more fun with me!

missseraphina 🙄

→ username63 uh… you do realize you’re PUBLICLY commenting right 💀

colecaufield is that girl harassing you

→ yourusername no it’s so funny lmfaoooo

→ jamie.drysdale bro she’s dming ME

→ yourusername u should see my dms 😭😭

next chapter notes ) yes seraphina is a certified delulu girl! i don’t wanna antagonize her terribly but she needs to cause enough drama so we’re going down this road and ik i haven’t been uploading recently but i’m too busy being an academic weapon 🙏

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys

#luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #jack hughes #cole caufield #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #ethan edwards #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke #mark estapa #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #rutger mcgroarty

[anonymous-dentist]

Or. The Among Us au.

-

Now, Cellbit thinks that there may be a problem when he wakes up one Tuesday morning to find tentacles bubbling out of his mouth. Because he’s reformed, see. He went to prison. He went to therapy. He did his time. He’s better now, and so, really, he should be human. He’s gotten very good at it.

But it’s also the morning after his arrival on the ISS Quesadilla, himself being one of five new crewmates sent by the Federation to explore the galaxy and look for… something. He doesn’t know what, exactly; he doesn’t have high enough clearance yet, and he never will if he doesn’t get his fucking tentacles-

On the bunk across from him, Mike groans and throws a lumpy pillow at him.

“Stop being an alien, God,” he groans. “Go back to sleep, our shift doesn’t start for another three hours.”

And, well. Cellbit can’t argue with that logic. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all. He’ll be back to looking like a human when he’s calmed down some.

Cellbit closes his eyes, lets out a long, artificial breath (aliens don’t need to breathe, after all), and he lets himself relax. It’ll be fine.

-

It isn’t fine. It’s five hours later and his tentacles are gone but his teeth have sharpened into four rows of fangs and it’s very hard to talk. Luckily, his helmet is covering up most of the nasty stuff. Luckily, almost everyone on his shift already knows he’s a secret alien except for Forever, and Forever seems smart enough not to snitch if he knows what’s good for him.

The problem is that Cellbit knows why he’s suddenly devolving. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because he was alone in the universe two days ago, and now his internal biology is registering the presence of another alien somewhere on the ship, and it’s horrifying.

Cellbit can’t concentrate like this. He keeps biting his lips when he tries to communicate with his team. The wires in the electrical panels aren’t making any sense all of a sudden. His hands are shaking too badly for him to be able to swipe his I.D. card. He explains it to his Federation supervisor as space sickness and Pac and Mike back him up, and he assures Cucurucho that he’ll be in working condition by the end of the week, he promises!

But then it’s lunch, and Cellbit is eating alone in his and Pac and Mike and Forever’s cabin because his mouth is a biological garbage disposal.

This sucks.

Cellbit picks at his food, unable to even digest it in the state he’s in. Aliens, unlike humans, can’t eat vegetables. They eat flesh. Any kind, but Cellbit grew up eating human flesh. But that was then, and this is now, and, now, Cellbit is looking at a tray of frozen space vegetables and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

Knock-knock!

Cellbit’s first, instinctual response is a hiss as he flinches. His jaw splits in half down the middle, fangs bared, but then he remembers, wait, humans don’t fucking do that.

So he forces his jaw shut with his hands and pulls on his helmet. Just in case.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Hola?” is what he gets in response, and his stomach clenches because this is a very human-sounding human. “You are Cellbit, right?”

Cellbit ponders. Then, “Yes. Why?”

“Okay, yes! So Cucurucho sent me to bring you to medical-”

Oh, God. A scan is the last thing that Cellbit needs right now.

So Cellbit immediately interjects. “No, no! I’m fine! I told them I’m fine!”

“Oh, you’re fine,” the human sarcastically says. “You’re wearing a helmet, culero, I can hear it from out here. Come on, man, the faster you do this, the faster it is over with.”

Well. He does have a point. Besides, Cellbit has fudged his way through plenty of scans before. This one will just be a little more difficult, that’s all.

Cellbit puts his lunch aside and he opens the door and he stops pretending to breathe. The other crewmate is also wearing a helmet, but, through it, Cellbit can see the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy.

Said eyes crinkle up in a smile as Cellbit steps outside into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The helmet’s visor only allows access to the eyes, but Cellbit has a feeling that this man’s face is just as captivating.

“Great!” the human cheerily says. “You don’t look dead, at least!”

He laughs, and Cellbit finds himself laughing along with him. It’s catchy. This is fine.

“Come on, you’re new, right?” the human asks. He turns around and starts down the hallway to the left towards… medical? “I’ll show you the way.”

Cellbit swallows a tentacly lump in his throat and follows, two exact steps behind.

“It’s always good to get new people,” the human says. “We lose a lot of crewmates.”

“I’ve heard,” Cellbit politely says. He bites his lip again and winces. Attempt seventeen of trying to will his teeth into their human forms, go!

It’s true, though. The Quesadilla goes through more crew members than any other ship in the Federation’s fleet. It’s probably why nobody in Cellbit’s group had actually been interviewed before they were hired. Amateurs…

“It’s crazy, man. They’re dropping like flies!” the human exclaims, hands gesturing wildly.

He turns his head back to look at Cellbit, crinkled eyes glittering.

“Good luck,” he says.

Cellbit smiles back. Thank goodness for his helmet, because he can feel his jaw begin to split apart again.

“Thank you,” he weakly says. At least his vocal cords are working… and at least he doesn’t actually need his mouth to speak. “Maybe we’ll even get to work together in the future.”

He hopes so. He hopes that he can find this other alien and try to work with them to get themselves (because he knows that the other alien has to be having the same problem as him right now) together. Then Cellbit can actually do his job, and then he might even get a promotion. One step closer to his goals, and one step closer to-

The human clicks his tongue. “Now, now, don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

He taps at a badge on his chest with a gloved finger.

“‘Roier’,” Cellbit reads.

“Uh-huh. I’m Cucurucho’s favorite.”

“I didn’t know that they could have favorites.”

The human- Roier- sniffs haughtily. “Yes, and I am one.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t ever work together,” Cellbit says.

He dares step closer until he and Roier are next to each other. They’re about the same height, he notices, though he can tell even through the bulky spacesuit that Roier is far more built than Cellbit has been since he was a teenager.

“I don’t know,” Roier replies, shrugging. “Maybe. Who knows? Cucurucho is picky, you know?”

Cellbit remembers the disdainful look send in his direction when he had failed his first card swipe. Yeah, he knows.

The conversation slows to a comfortable silence, mostly because Cellbit is tired of almost biting his own face off.

And then they’re at Medical.

Cellbit pauses outside the door. Roier rolls his eyes and yanks him in, announcing their presence with a loud, “Ay, Missa!”

The medical staff on shift, a tall human in a black spacesuit with his helmet off, screeches and tumbles out of his chair.

Cellbit bites back a laugh. Roier doesn’t bother even trying to stay professional. He even walks over to Missa’s crumpled form and kicks him lightly in the side.

“Roier…” Missa complains.

“Do your job, pendejo, Cucurucho sent us.”

At the mention of Cucurucho, Missa scrambles to his feet, pale. He picks up a clipboard off of his desk and moves to close and lock the door.

Cellbit shuffles awkwardly to the side. Okay, deep breaths…

“Space sickness,” Roier explains.

“But I’m fine, really,” Cellbit tries.

Missa shuts him down with a firm shake of the head.

“Strip,” he says.

And then he flushes a bright red and stammers, “I- I mean your suit! You can hang it in a locker!”

Clearly embarrassed, he points toward a line of lockers against the far wall.

Cellbit gulps. But he… strips, gloves first and then his suit. Last, his helmet, which really should’ve been done first, but…

Luckily, his face is mostly under control again. He doesn’t feel too inhuman as he adjusts his hair in the reflection of a nearby data screen. He may be about to receive a death sentence, but he can at least look good doing it.

He turns around and faces the scanner, blushing just ever so slightly as he hears Roier gasp to himself. If he was human, he wouldn’t have heard it, it’s so quiet. And so, since he’s supposed to be human, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Just step on up, and we’ll get you done,” Missa says. He smiles, trying.

Cellbit offers a closed-mouth smile back, not trusting himself to show teeth.

He steps onto the scanner and closes his eyes, desperately hoping that it comes up as human as the ones back on Earth did-

“Oh, shit,” he hears Missa say. “It isn’t- oh, shit!”

Of course.

“What is it?” Roier demands. “Tell me!”

“I need to call Cucurucho, Roier, call Cucuruch-”

He coughs and slumps to the floor and slides off of Cellbit’s sharpened tentacle before Cellbit even realizes that he had transformed.

Oh, fuck.

Panicked, Cellbit recalls his tentacle and flinches at the taste of blood, delicious and disgustingly familiar, and his eyes open instinctively but he can’t see, it’s all just a blur, and he backs off of the scanner and-

“Hey! Cellbit! It’s fine, okay?” he hears Roier say. His voice is distant, like a dream. But Cellbit latches onto it, anyway.

Two heavy hands settle on his shoulders. Cellbit hisses, eyes narrowing and jaw splitting and fangs emerging, but then-

“Calma,” Roier gently says. “Hold on. Let me show you something.”

Cellbit can’t move. Roier is letting go of him and reaching for his own helmet, still unremoved. And then he removes it, and Cellbit is so shocked that he can’t keep his tentacles from falling out of his mouth again.

Roier is beautiful. High cheekbones, freckles, smiling eyes, soft hair, and fangs the size of toothpicks forcing his mouth ajar.

“See?” Roier asks, and that’s when Cellbit realizes that he isn’t talking in any human language anymore. This is their language, one Cellbit thought he was the last living speaker of. “It’s fine, okay?”

He smiles, and it’s terrifying in its beauty.

Cellbit manages to suck his tentacles back up, and then he smiles back.

“I thought I was alone,” he says.

“How do you think I felt, huh? What are you doing here!”

Roier lightly punches Cellbit’s shoulder.

There aren’t any security cameras in the Quesadilla, Cellbit had made sure if that before signing up for the trip. And if he can’t trust another alien, then what’s the point of this biological homing device? Aliens stick together, that’s how it always has been. Well. Had. (It’s a little hard to stick together when you’re all dead.)

So he doesn’t hesitate at all before saying, “My best friend is on board this ship. He was kidnapped.”

Roier’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! Is he-”

“He’s human.”

“Oh.”

It’s just the two of them.

“Okay,” Roier says. “So now there’s two of us.”

“Yes. And it’s a little inconvenient having to deal with the, uh…”

Cellbit glances towards Roier’s fangs. Are they sharper than his? God.

Roier shrugs. “Eh, it’ll be fine. We just keep our helmets on until our bodies decide to calm down.”

Well, he isn’t at all concerned. He should be. He absolutely should be. But… there have been a lot of disappearances on the ship.

Roier, it seems, is very good at playing human.

Cellbit lets out an excited, nervous breath. He glances at Missa’s corpse, surprise and fear still written on his face.

“We need to report this,” Cellbit says.

Roier raises an eyebrow. “Por qué? Why? He is dead.”

“Yes, and it’ll look worse if we don’t tell anyone.”

This, Cellbit is more than used to. He may be reformed, but he had a very long time to hone his craft.

Slowly calming down, Cellbit goes to start pulling his suit back on. He even manages to get his fangs to shift. Okay.

“Okay,” Roier agrees. “If anybody asks, we were coming in here for sex.”

Cellbit’s face splits open in shock.

Roier cackles, and Cellbit can only wonder if this is truly what fate has brought to him.

#spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp fic #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose. #fucking among us au ig #guys I did it

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) Part 4

Synopsis: The Hag learns not to underestimate an angry mother and Eowyn decides to make an early appearance.

CW: Mentions of gore, mentions of torture, labor, breast feeding

Author note: thank you for your patience! I’ve had a lot of big life changes lately and have been struggling with my mental health. I have a couple other fics I’m working on that I’m super excited about!

This will also have more parts in the future! I have lots more ideas!

Pic is mine!

You know you need to stay in bed, but you will be damned if you are going to let Astarion face that terrible Hag alone. You knew he’d never agree to let you go with him considering your current condition, but you had always fought side by side together and not being there to protect him feels wrong to you.

They have been gone far longer than they should have been and there is a sick pit in your gut that tells you something is wrong. You don’t know what, when, why, or how, but you have a feeling Astarion’s life is in danger.

Jaheira had caught you sneaking out right away and even though Shadowheart was skeptical about the safety of the situation, she also agreed that something felt off and that they probably should have been back a few hours ago.

So you squeezed yourself into something that you can move in- settling on an oversized Wizard’s robe you had accidentally bought right before you found out you were pregnant. It’s like the retailers knew before you did.

Shadowheart and Jaheira are right behind you as you follow Scratch to Astarion’s location. The hag must not be very social considering the trail has led to a remote part of the beach. You feel even more uneasy the further you go and then you hear it.

Minsc is screaming at someone to stop and then there is a scream of pain from Astarion. Your entire body feels on fire and your rage is bigger than your own body. You can feel Eowyn’s fury too- no one is allowed to hurt her dad.

You storm in and you blast an ice shard straight through Hag's chest and send her away from Astarion. Based on the cuts along his chest- she was slowly, painfully torturing him with some type of weapon. Minsc, Halsin, and Gale are in equally bad shape and are hanging up shackled to the wall.

Astarion is blinded by some kind of spell because when you race over to him- he flinches away from you. His skin is torn up in nonsensical designs and your chest hurts looking at him. Tears are pooling in your eyes, but you have to contain yourself- he needs you to be strong right now.

“It’s just me, Star,” you say softly, “I’m getting you out of here.”

The fear and horror in his eyes intensifies, “you need to leave now!”

“Oh I’m afraid that ship has sailed little spawn,” the Hag cackles, “I didn’t even have to do any of the work- you came straight to me!”

You put yourself between the Hag and Astarion. You stare daggers into the Hag and she looks taken aback. She was a fool to believe you are just a blubbering pregnant woman who enjoys an apple cupcake.

“The only thing I will be giving you is a very painful death,” you snarl.

Shadowheart and Jaheira attack her first and you silence the Hag- preventing her from using any spells. In between Shadowheart and Jaheira’s melee attacks, you throw cantrip and spell hand over hand at the monster.

When the Hag finally goes down, you feel absolutely victorious! You untie Astarion and Shadowheart casts restoration and healing before moving onto the others. Astarion immediately pulls you into him and places lots of kisses on your face while chastising you for taking such a massive risk, but you can also see the shining pride in his eyes.

Then your water decides to break.

“Oh are you fucking serious!?” You shout in alarm.

“What’s-“ Astarion looks at you in confusion and then stops when he sees the puddles on the ground.

“Shit!” Shadowheart is racing over to check on you and puts her hand on the lower part of your stomach, “she’s ready to come at any minute- we need to get you h-“

She doesn’t even finish her sentence before Astarion picks you up and begins rushing back to the house. Everyone is hot on your trail, but you are too afraid to even be worried about that right now.

“My love, it’s going to be okay,” Astarion whispers, “you’ll be okay. Eowyn will be okay.”

“But she’s early,” you sob, “and Isobel and Dame Aylin aren’t here and what if I di-“

“No- don’t even begin to think that,” Astarion scolds you, his pace picking up, “you are going to live through this and we are going to be a family. There is no other outcome.”

You don’t argue with him because you don’t want to scare him. You’ve read a lot about Dhampir babies and their birth. Your understanding is that it’s up to the child whether you live or not- they can either make the labor excruciatingly easy or they can claw their way out of you until you bleed out. You hope that Eowyn loves you and wants you in her life. You really don’t want to die.

Everything moves in slow motion as everyone frantically moves around you. Your contractions came on much faster than Shadowheart anticipated and thank the Gods that Halsin was there because he’s delivered several children before. He was equally as surprised- this is a process that could take hours, days even, but it’s been mere minutes. Astarion asks if that’s a good thing, but neither Halsin or Shadowheart know.

Jaheira and Shadowheart push your legs as you fight through the pain and push as hard as you can. The pain is searing, but you don’t feel like you are being ripped apart more than necessary so that’s a good thing.

“You’re doing such a good job, my Love,” Astarion whispers as he wipes the sweat from your forehead, “you are so so strong.”

Yes, you are. You just fought a hag and then immediately went into labor, but that doesn’t settle the fear in your heart when you are told to push again. The pain just continues to increase but nothing feels scary, if anything, the more the pain increases, the more relief you feel. Not your own, but Eowyn’s and for some reason, you feel like she’s excited to meet you.

So you push a few more times over the next two hours until a high pitched cry echoes through the room. Halsin asks Astarion if he wants to cut the cord and he agrees, but looks like he’s going to throw up the whole time. Halsin is laughing as he shows Astarion how to bathe Eowyn- your poor partner looks like he’s about to have a conniption.

“Congratulations,” Halsin says while handing Eowyn over to you, “you are the proud parents of a very healthy little girl.”

Eowyn stops crying the minute she’s in your arms and she opens her eyes- she has topaz, sun elf eyes with red flecks and you smile widely- she has your eye color!

“Well hello my sweet girl,” you coo, “thank you for not killing me.”

Eowyn is the most precious baby in the world as she squeals happily at you. You giggle and hold her tighter. Your heart feels so so full when you look at her. It was just the two of you for so long and you are so happy to be here to know her.

Wispy, blonde silver curls adorn her head and her ears are adorably pointed. Her skin is the same color as Astarion’s but with more life in her cheeks. Her lips are in a happy little pout and she is inquisitive while taking in your features. Oh and her rolls! She is a chunky little gal!

You understand now what all those parenting books were saying. You would destroy the world for Eowyn.

“And!” Shadowheart pops up from in between your legs, “you’re totally okay! Besides the expected, that is.”

A relieved laugh leaves your lips and Eowyn happily squeals again in unison. Eowyn’s eyes then seem to wander around the room, her head turning ever so slightly. You read that Dhampirs are stronger than normal infants, but you are still weary of her moving without your support.

She doesn’t stop looking around until she meets Astarion’s eyes. You follow her gaze and you smile softly at Astarion who looks so happy, scared, and relieved at the same time. Eowyn offers a chubby hand to him and you watch as Astarion walks towards both of you as if hypnotized. He hesitantly lets her take his finger and Eowyn smiles before closing her eyes and relaxing against you.

“She’s beautiful,” Astarion says in awe, “but she’s also too smart for her own good.”

“I told you so,” you say with a huff, “but noooo no one listens to mom.”

Astarion smiles brightly at you and kisses your chapped lips slowly and lovingly. He sits next to the two of you, his finger never leaving Eowyn’s hand.

****************************

The Hag had overtaken them. Astarion still isn’t quite sure how- he just remembers a big flash and something in the room taking him down to his knees. When he woke up being tortured- he felt as helpless and pathetic as he had under Cazador.

Astarion was certain he would die there or just be there for eternity. The hag blinded him and carved into his skin as much as she pleased.

Hearing your voice had felt like a balm for his shattered spirit, but that feeling was quickly overtaken with fear for you and Eowyn. You were not supposed to be here trying to protect him. He’s supposed to be protecting you.

Today was humbling. You killed the hag and saved him. You then proceeded to give birth not even three hours later and you still had asked him if it would be okay for you to take a nap.

In spite of today’s lack of success, Astarion can’t help but feel nothing but pride towards you as you snore softly next to him in the bed. Your arm is absentmindedly thrown over his torso and Eowyn is napping in his arms. You are truly a miracle walking and it’s in these moments that he still can’t believe you took him back. You’re incredible and you could easily have done this on your own.

Astarion is extremely nervous. He knows he has absolutely no paternal instinct, but he does know he loves Eowyn and you. At the end of the day that’s the important part, right? He can figure out the rest as he goes- he’s smart and quick enough on his feet.

Eowyn begins crying and suddenly that process of thought is completely gone. You stir and begin to sit up with a yawn.

“She’s-“ another yawn cuts you off, “probably hungry.”

Astarion passes Eowyn to you- once again feeling entirely unhelpful. Sure enough, she immediately begins to suckle and her crying ceases. You smile at her and then look to Astarion- your features quickly changing to a look of concern. You use your other hand to wipe his tears.

“Star, what’s wrong?”

He struggles to fight the lump in his throat and to stop the tears in his eyes. You continue to look at him lovingly, providing him with comfort and assurance. Astarion can tell you what he’s feeling- maybe you can even help him get a new perspective.

“I feel so useless and well, worthless,” he chokes out, “I didn’t kill the hag, I couldn’t do anything but watch you be in pain, and I can’t even feed Eowyn.”

Your hand pauses on his cheek for a second before you shake your head.

“Astarion, you saved me from that horrid creature earlier this morning. If you hadn’t been there, I would be chopped up somewhere and Eowyn would be turned into a hag,” you say tearfully, “and I could not have gone into labor without you here. That was one of my biggest fears before you arrived at my door- I just wanted you here with us.

“And you are certainly welcome to try and feed Eowyn,” you tease, “but last time I checked you aren’t producing milk and besides, it’s not your fault. She’s mere hours old and I haven’t even begun to try to fill up a bottle or two for you to use. Just please don't beat yourself up, my Star. You mean the whole world to me and I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Not to mention- Eowyn adores you so you have to stick around.”

Astarion’s heart glows and cracks at the same time. He would never leave you- he may raise Eowyn with questionable morals, but he has no intentions of not being a part of her life until both of you are long gone and his own time comes.

Everything else you said though? It did help to throw the worst of his negative feelings out.

“I never intended on leaving,” he says quickly, not thinking about how his feelings may have sounded, “but thank you, my Love. I needed to hear that.”

“Of course, anytime.”

The two of you talk and obsess over how adorable she is, what features she seems to have from who, etc. You eventually fall asleep leaning against Astarion while feeding Eowyn.

When she’s done, Astarion gently takes her from your arms and burps her like every parenting book says to do. It’s not a ridiculously hard process, but the spit up on his shirt is definitely not his favorite.

“Really? This is my nice shirt!” He whispers at Eowyn who just smiles at him, “okay fine, you can spit up on my shirts.”

Eowyn yawns and goes back to sleep- it takes everything in Astarion not to melt into a puddle. He didn’t think a yawn could be so adorable in his whole life.

You begin to snore softly again and Eowyn is right behind you. Astarion chuckles to himself and places a soft kiss on Eowyn’s forehead.

He’s excited to introduce her to everyone- Dal has been sending letters non-stop asking when she can visit. Astarion has been procrastinating because he knows she’ll bring Petras too and if you hadn’t made it… well it would not have been a happy union.

Dal is already referring to herself as Eowyn’s aunt which made Astarion slightly uncomfortable at first because he and his siblings had never truly been close, but then she visited with Petras, Aurelia, and even Violet during your 7th month of pregnancy and you all had hit it off very well and, without Cazador, Astarion found he actually enjoys his siblings’ company. They are actually decent people now that they aren’t all being horribly abused. Well, Violet may be the exception, she’s still a shit who loves to play pranks, but at least they aren’t painful or out of vengeance.

Then there are his traveling companions- his chosen family as you refer to them as. Every single one of them is going to want to meet Eowyn and smother her in love. He’s most excited to see Lae’zel’s reaction- she’s going to be horrified by how squishy human children are, but Eowyn will win her over.

Astarion decides to talk to you about having them visit once you are awake and if you seem to be feeling much stronger. He knows one thing for sure though- Eowyn is going to have the biggest and most loving family anyone could ever have.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion acunin #astarion x pregnant reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion baldurs gate #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion ancunin

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter VII : Hysminai

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

A/N: Hello tin can man nation, happy Mando Monday and one million billion trillion apologies that it’s taken me a whole goddamn month to update. This has literally never happened to me with any of my stories before, and quite frankly, it feels terrible! All I can say is that like I said in my last note, after this the story changes drastically, and I was having a difficult time crossing the bridge between how we were and how we will be (oh I sounded so philosophical, are you impressed?) I needed to figure out how it was they’d be feeling in the in-between sort of place they’re at in this chapter. Apparently, that took me a whole month to do, sometimes I think I need to get a grip or something idk. 

Anyways, more canon divergence more timeline divergence. so yes, that’s all. Here it is — it’s a little idk — idk how I feel about the chapter after all that, but it is what it is, so tell me what you think!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 8.0K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER VII : HYSMINAI

Where does unbelief begin?

Anne Carson, Glass, Irony and God

“My fucking back hurts,” he groans, flopping down on top of you. Dirty and sweaty and a little stinky from his unsuccessful hunt today, you push your hands up beneath his shirt, pulling it out from where it’s tucked in his pants to get at his skin, wrapping your legs around the tapered expanse of his strong waist.

A soft whine, as if he thinks he should argue or tell you no but can’t bring himself to. “I’m sweaty,” and then like a confession, or something frightening and shameful, “And tired, and I’m getting old,” he whispers, heavy helmet digging into the crook of your shoulder, crushing your collar bone.

“My poor baby,” you croon at him, one palm stroking the slope of his spine, the other digging beneath the layers of fabric around his neck to get at his tender nape. “You just need a bath, some rest, something to eat. It’ll all be okay after that.” And he groans, great beast that he is, rumbling through the modulator and rolling the curve of the helmet over your shoulder. You press the tips of your fingers into the thick slats of muscles along his spine, feel him jerk at a particularly sore spot, and then melt once you begin to soothe the hurt away gently. His bones seem to sag into you, the entire tremendous weight of him pressing you into the blankets until you feel like you can barely breathe. He’s a huge mass of sweltering, sweaty man, worked into exhaustion. 

To say that it had been difficult convincing him you’d be fine left on the Crest so that he could go out and hunt the bounty you’d come to Yavin 4 to retrieve, would be putting it lightly. First, he’d said you’d be coming with him, and you’d watched, patient and silent, as he’d worked himself into a knot, pacing back and forth, muttering to himself as he talked himself in and out of bringing you along several times over before he’d landed on the decision that no, you could absolutely not come out on a hunt with him – too dangerous. And so, okay, sure, whatever you say, Din. Now come sit and have some soup, and he’d grumbled and huffed and puffed the entire time while you’d stroked all the bare skin you could get at, trussed up in the armor as he was, soothing him back into calm. But then he’d come up with the brilliant plan that you’d simply return to Nevarro, jumping up to pace once again, and he’d tell Karga that he’d be unable to acquire the remaining bounties, return the pucks, and wash his hands of the Guild entirely. That idea had lasted a total of thirty seconds before you’d helpfully pointed out that the two of you still needed credits to live, fuel for the ship, food and supplies. Somehow, it seemed the practical necessity of money had slipped his mind in the midst of his stress. However, eventually, in the gentlest and most placating voice you could muster, you’d bade him to come sit with you, and crouching at your feet while you perched on your stool, fingers pressed to the tee of his vizor you’d told him that you’d learned your lesson, you weren’t going to be caught unawares again, and that he couldn’t abandon his work and his Guild because of what happened. Something about the words had felt, not necessarily like a lie, but like a falsity. There was something frightened and aware within you now. And you didn’t want to examine it closely enough to categorize it for what it truly was yet, but you knew it was there, that it’d been woken and stirred to restlessness with the appearance of the Thalassians and all they’d had to tell you about the whispers of you circulating the Outer Rim. 

And worst of all, you hadn’t told him anything of what they’d said. You hadn’t told him of the claim that there were rumors of the two of you, knowledge of what you are being passed between scheming mouths with cruel intentions. You didn’t want to worry him, you didn’t want to distract him from his work. The thought of him going out there to face unknown dangers while he left his mind here on the ship with you, worrying and fretting and not watching out for himself the way he needed to, with full attention – well, it just wasn’t a possibility. And anyways, you told yourself, liar, liar, liar, you could handle anything else that came your way. You could handle your own worry and your own fear and your own raging thoughts, what you could not handle, and this you knew with absolute certainty, was his worry and his fear. You needed him to be calm, focused, well and happy. Nothing else really mattered besides that, especially not you. 

He pulls you forward, pulling your wrists to wrap around his neck, needy, needy Mandalorian, “I’m sorry. I’m just–” a gruff sound of frustration, “Just worried.” Sometimes you think he’s the one with the ability to read minds, not you. “I’m taking you somewhere,” he says into the crook, “Once we’re done with this one.”

We. Always a we now. There is such togetherness here and now, between the two of you,

“Where?” And it’s a funny thing, always existing in the dark with him now, and you hadn’t thought about it or looked at it closely enough up until someone else, someone bad, had stepped into this comforting darkness the two of you had settled into with each other, made you realize that that's what you’ve been doing, living in the dark again. But now it’s everywhere, glaring and demanding your attention, and you can’t understand how it is that you ended up here again, a different sort of dark, surely, but still the same thing constructed in an altered form, nonetheless. Or perhaps, how or why it is that you’ve pulled him, someone that burns like a flame on their own, into your shadow. And you’ve watched him, and you know him now, so surely it must be that a man such as he could never be pulled or taken or turned into anything he didn't choose for himself because watching him is like watching a man be a god, and for a girl who’d been told all her life she was a god herself while she sat in the place of slave, it is exciting and erotic and so many things. But it is also confusing. 

And there are locked rooms inside of you: lust, grief, apathy. You would like to take a hammer to them all, but it seems that, perhaps, Din is the one taking that hammer to those doors and obliterating them for you. That help you’d always been so afraid of, he’s there to give it to you, and so the easy answer, the right answer, would seem to be for you to take that help… no? To accept what he gives you in whatever way he thinks is best because he only wants what is good for you, to help, to soften, to make things easier for you. To remove that interminable struggle you’ve found yourself in for so long, for your whole life. 

Sometimes it feels like I haven’t been happy my whole life. But I know I feel it with you.

“It’s a surprise.” Another reminder of happiness. 

It only takes him one more outing on Yavin 4, before he returns with the bounty slung over his broad shoulder. Grunts and curses as he wrestles with the heavy weight of it, stuffing it into the carbon freezer. His hair is getting too long, the rich curls peeking out beneath the lip of his helmet in the back, and the sight of them does something strange to you. A small thing like a vulnerability, a reminder that he’s only a man, only human beneath all of that beskar. That thing of fear that’s been roiling inside of you thumps and thumps and thumps, and you try and swallow it and push it down, kill it if you must, but it will not be silenced or settled. As he passes you on his way to the ladder you stop him with a small hand on his chest plate, small and seemingly insignificant in comparison to the great breadth of him – you’ve always liked that, the way that if no one knew you for what you really are, in comparison to his size and strength they’d never take you for the more dangerous one. There’s something comforting in that. You reach up to tuck the soft curls back beneath his helmet, you wish you could reach up to press a kiss to his mouth also. “Hair’s getting long,” you tell him instead. But again, he’d been distracted, worried, forgetting the small things he needed, forgetting to take care of himself. You can’t help the feeling of guilt this brings on, but then he’s gripping you around the waist and pulling you up towards himself, pressing the round of his helmet against your cheek, a hard metallic nuzzle, basically carrying you up the ladder to the cockpit with him, and you’re forced to abandon your guilt and worries for the moment. 

After a maintenance stop in Mos Eisley on the planet of Tatooine, he takes you to the terrestrial ice planet of Maldo Kreis where he tells you he’d once crash landed and come upon, believe it or not, hot springs. Nestled deep into a system of caves that run below the surface of the planet, there live a collection of hot baths. He said that the caves weren’t entirely without their threats, but that if one was careful, the baths he’d found were enough of a desolate little pocket of space that he could relax without fear of discovery. 

You’d told him that you loved water, and so he’d brought you to water he could share with you.

You watch the broad line of his shoulders as he lumbers through the icy snow, he’d wrapped you in all your layers and one of his thick capes over your own cloak so that he was sure you were as warm as possible during the short trek from the toasty interior of the Razor Crest to the cave he was familiar with. He pulls you along behind him, blaster in one hand, your fingers gripped tightly in the other, his tactical light swinging in a slow arc from side to side as the two of you make your careful progression through the dark, near silent caves. Nothing but your short, excited panting, the hollow crack of the all encompassing ice around the two of you, and his low murmurs to watch your step here and careful, cyare and step where I step; ever careful and ever cautious with you. And the cave, when he steps into the high domed cavern, the great echo of the drip, drip, dripping of the ice above melting in the rising steam, and the sight of the baths, like nothing you could have ever imagined. Nothing like the ones on Carosi XII you used to visit in your youth in the moments you found to sneak away. The bath is large, about six by ten meters in diameter and it glows. Suffused by some sort of bioluminescent light at the heart of its basin, some sort of unearthly blue light shining up from its core to alight the cavern and refract against the ice glittered walls. You stand there shocked for a moment, eyes slowly roving the large space, small and shivering and maybe even a little terrified, beside a man that on the surface would seem to the unknowing eye to be just as hard and just as frigid. “Do you like it, cyar’ika? Did I do well?” He asks you in a soft voice that holds something like boyish shyness, vulnerable uncertainty. You squeeze his arm tight, hugging it to your chest and squishing your cheek against the ice cold pauldron, burning the fine skin there. 

“Oh, Din,” you look up at him with that thing you can’t say out loud, but that you’re so entirely full of for him, “It’s so beautiful – let’s get in please. Is it safe? Please, let’s get in.” He makes an indulgent noise in his throat, extracting his arm from your tight hold to wrap it around your shoulders and urge you forward gently. 

“You get in. This is for you, little one.” And you want to argue, to say that it’s not the same without him, that it’s not worth it without him, but the water looks so lovely and warm and an azure so pure and crystalline it looks as though you’d be stepping into the heart of a diamond. He pulls his own cloak from around his shoulders and lays it on the snowy floor of the cave for you to stand on as he removes your clothes in quick, efficient movements, somehow keeping you wrapped in the layers of your own cloak and his extra cape he’d tucked you into so that you’re never entirely bared to the frigid air of the cave until he’s gently wrapping one large, gloved hand around your forearm, the other clasped at your waist to help you step into the warm bath. And that first moment of contact, submerging the tips of your toes in to your calves, knees, thighs, your hips and belly and finally your breasts, that first moment almost hurts, the shocking change from sharp cold to soothing heat burns, your skin going too tight stretched over your bones and then loose and relaxed, all strength seeming to seep from your muscles so that you’re sagging into the pool weakly with an airy moan. You float slowly out into the middle and then suddenly, remembering the most important part of the scene, you turn back to look at him, but he's still at the edge of the pool, slowly going to a crouch on his knees to watch you. He isn’t going to come in, and you try and swallow your disappointment, letting yourself sink down to the bottom, squeezing your eyes shut tightly so that all that remains is the blue glow of the pool’s luminescence. Your bare bottom settles at the base, the rocks hot against your skin, and wait there a moment, feeling as though your at the heart of a womb, nothing but a thought at the start of your life, and then pushing yourself back up, breaking the surface with a gasp, pushing the sluicing water out of your eyes, your lashes seeming to crackle and freeze at the contact with the frigid air once again. When you turn back to look at him with a wide smile, he’s slowly shaking his head at you, pissed off sound rumbling through the modulator at you staying below the surface for so long. 

You let yourself sink down until only your eyes remain above water. Stretching your toes to skim the bottom of the warm rocks at the base of the pool, and you watch him watch you, that intensity of his, so powerful it spears his visor, suffuses your entire body, moving through your limbs like electricity and pooling at the tips of your fingers and toes. You know he can see the distorted shimmer of your naked body beneath the surface of the water, the tips of your breasts, the line of your belly down to the apex of your thighs, your hair floats away from you in ghostlike fingers, as if they were reaching towards him. You suck in a tiny bit of the slightly brackish water, hold it on your tongue, and when you let your mouth break the surface you spit it towards him in a crystalline arc. “The water’s so lovely. Come hold me,” you flirt at him. He’s crouched at the edge of the pool like some metallic sentinel, entirely still, frozen in time and space. You’ll remember him like this always, you think, silent and riveted only on you. That silence of his that sometimes says so much, echoes in your mind like a shout. The helmet cocks slowly to one side, entirely predatory, and if you hadn’t come to know him as well as you have, you’d worry for a moment that he’d seem entirely unaffected, but you can make out the tiight grip of his fingers around the cap of his bent knee. The restraint in the lines of his limbs he holds himself with, and the tips of your breasts go tight and aching at the display of want, subtle and silent as it is. The stillness and the silence, he uses it as a weapon when he likes, and sometimes they hold him in reserve, but other times, they tell you so much. “Please, come join me. I won’t look. I’ll be good,” you whisper, mouth just above the surface of the water, and slowly start to tread closer to him. “I promise.”

The hand over his knee tightens, and he makes a pained, frustrated sound, spit through the modulator. He looks around the cave again, visor slowly scanning the dark crevices and passageways, and you know he’s scanning once more for heat signatures. “Turn around,” he says quietly, vizor finally coming back to you. You obey silently, treading water to the far end of the pool, as far from him as you can go, giving him space and time and privacy to divest himself of the protections of his Creed. Protections he’s ridding himself of for you. You reach the stone ledge on the opposite side of the hot spring and rest there, arms crossed over the edge and chin propped on your folded wrists, and you close your eyes and listen to the sound of him giving himself to you, the disengaging of the magnetics that hold his armor together, the hollow drop of a pauldron, another, chest plate, vambraces, the thigh and shin guards. Then the heavier thud of his helmet, and the sound of his naked sigh, your heart drops into your stomach. You bring your face down into the cove of your folded arms, hiding away, heart racing as fast as a small, hunted creature. Your water warmed arms and neck are steaming in the frozen chill of the surrounding cave, but your lower half is enveloped in all of the sensual heat of the pool. The warring sensations shiver through you, up and down the length of your spine like electricity, the back of your neck prickling and breaking out into gooseflesh. Your entire frame trembles in anticipation, everything inside going tight and hot as a flash fire, and then loose and shaky, wet and molten. You hear the rustle of clothing, his softly pained grunt and sigh from what must be him bending to shuck his boots and pants, his back hurts, and then the splash of disturbed water and a different sort of groan, one of pleasure as he submerges his sore body in all the heat of the pool. You can’t help the almost silent answering whimper that claws its way up your throat, he calls to you so strongly always, that string from rib bone to spine that you’re terrified of being without one day. Terrified of the sort of lost you’ll become if it were to ever be severed. His movements go still suddenly, all sound seeming to cut off from one moment to the next, a pressurized sort of silence so immediately jarring that for a single second of panic you’re tempted to turn around to make sure he’s still there, but then: the whisper soft pressure of a single finger dragging straight down the line of your spine. His hand unfurling to spread entirely at the small of your back, pressing you hard against the stone wall of the pool. The facade is jagged, but warmed by the volcanic heat source deep within the core of the planet, and the incongruous sensations have you breathing out a whimpered moan. “Hi,” he presses a kiss to the ball of your shoulder, the top of his dark head flashes in your peripheral vision and you snap your eyes shut quickly, and then the press of his long, hot body all along your back. His chest, his groin and the already hard cock there, the rounds of his knees at the backs of yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you away with him, lets your bodies float out into the middle of the pool. The heat is more concentrated here, as if the pool possessed its very own beating heart, warming the rest of its body, and the two of you float there, quiet, with him wrapped around you like this, the soft press of his plush mouth every once in a while, and the deep hums and rumbly sounds of his relaxed contentment. You lay your head back on his shoulder and sit in the quiet risk of this with him, but everything is so well and so peaceful that you let your mind close away that worry and that fear and that door that’d been opened inside your mind, just for now.  The galaxy is exceptionally still, here in this place with him. 

“You’re happy,” he reads your mind all the time now and amongst all the risk that surrounds the two of you, nothing bests that. “I did good. You’re happy.”

“You’re perfect,” you say in return, turning your face into his throat, hiding yourself away in his skin.

“Tell me something else that makes you happy,” he says, and a furious flush of heat floods your face, you, you want to say, you make me happier than anything, a swift frantic throbbing starting up at your throat, wrists, the backs of your knees. 

But you hold your tongue, think of another thing you’d once thought you couldn’t live without. “My blade, I think,” you say slowly. “I told you once that I, perhaps, should not have made another lightsaber.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if I deserve it anymore. But… she’s beautiful and unique and comforting. And I wanted one. I wanted to be the bearer of a lightsaber, and so I forewent what I thought I should do, and did only what I wanted to at the time.”

“And now? Do you still think you don’t deserve it?” His voice is gentle and tentative, and you’re sure he knows these questions will only aggravate old wounds. But there is also a part of you that wants him to know anyway. Amongst all the things within you that you’d like to keep from him forever, there are others which you’d like him to understand about you, as well. Things no one else has ever or will ever know. 

“Yes, maybe more than ever.”

An admonishing click of his tongue. You know there are certain things you believe about yourself that he doesn’t agree with, you can sense it within him, and it’s the greatest gift he constantly gives you, the benefit of his doubt. “What else do you want?”

You lift your head from its hiding place in his neck, chew on the thought, peek down at his bare arms wrapped around your middle. Something about seeing them so out in the open, water strewn, the soft dark hair covering the golden brown skin and sinewy muscle feels like breaking a rule. You hold your palm hovering just beneath the surface of the water, let the tips of your fingers break the glass-like edge, the glowing light that burns beneath the rockbase of the pool suffuses between them,“Absolution, perhaps.” You.

“From what?”

“Everything.”

“From who?” You have no answer for that – a moment of shocked speechlessness. The entire galaxy. Him, above all, him. “Because you aren’t going to get it from me,” voice grave and sad and serious, gentle, as if he’s telling a very young child a very big thing. “I have nothing to absolve you of, and so I cannot give it to you.” A lie he does not know is a lie. 

I know, you breathe in the smallest voice you can. As if the quiet will prevent the words from going out into the world. Acknowledgement breathes life into a thing, and you do not, cannot, acknowledge this truth. That you have started to fear that even if he knew the truth of it all, that it would still not satiate your guilt, silence it. That, most terrifying of terrifying truths, you fear you are the only one who can give that to yourself. You wish, very badly indeed, that you had the courage to tell him the whole of it, every bad or terrible thing, the worst thing, that you could be yourself entirely. You want to ask him how he finds the courage to be so brave and so mighty all the time? You would like to say: This is me at my best. I am asking you to endure it. I know it is selfish, but it’s what I’d like anyway.

The sight of the heavy end of the Thalassian’s stick hurtling towards you flashes in your mind, the sound of your bone crunching beneath the weight. Years and years of beatings and darkness and horror. You shut your eyes to it, focus on the sound of his breaths, the drip of water, the luminescence of the pool’s hot stones glowing through the thin membrane of your eyelids, the electric blue seeping into your corneas. 

“What are you afraid of?” You ask instead. You suspect that the answer to your own courage does not necessarily lie with him, and so you alter the framing, cast it in a more revealing light. “What sorts of things worry you?” 

He thinks on it for a moment, lets his arms slip from around you to tread water, and then stillness, the sound of him cupping little pools in his palms and letting them trickle back into the bath. “I’m getting older. I worry about the day I realize I’m weaker, slower. What that’ll do to me, what it’ll feel like – to realize the tool… weapon, I’ve relied on for so long is failing me, my own body.”

“You’re not that old,” you laugh lightly, “Only the disposition of an old man.” He bumps his spine into yours, turned to face away from you now.

“Brat.” You love this game of questions. Your favorite of all the games you play together. 

“If you can look into my mind,” he says slowly, “Could you also erase my memories?” Your stomach churns with the change in direction.

“Perhaps. I… I’m not sure – I’ve never tried to do that.” You hum in nervous consideration, “I could rework them, maybe, change them. But it would be difficult to pick and choose without running the risk of wiping a mind completely, I would think.”

“Yeah… I guess that makes sense.” He’s quiet for a moment, and you listen to the rustle of the water, the lapping of his movement slicking up against your naked back. “What am I thinking about right now?” He asks suddenly, and a flush of angry heat sizzles across your face. 

“Don’t ask me those things. It’s not a game, Din.” A hypocrite in your own mind.

Another silent pause, and you can hear a smile in his voice that forces your annoyance away. “Play with me anyways,” and he bumps his back into yours again, then turns to pull you to his chest once more, drags you slowly bobbing through the water to the far end of the pool to rest on the ledge there. 

The two of you sit there back to back, and you wrap your arms around your bent knees, resting your chin against the dome of your joint and close your eyes. All of these games… But you let the Force wrap around the both of you slowly, a bubble made entirely of yourself, let it slink around him, snake up his ankle to his knee. Another up the curve of his back and over the hill of his shoulder, up the column of his neck and over his face, your power licking and tasting as it goes, feeding off of him. You listen to him gasp and can’t help but smile a little. You feel him everywhere, always, you wish – hope, he feels you like this always too. And then in, gentle as possible, like piercing the thin, delicate membrane of a piece of fruit skin, a transparent membrane, and it’s like you’re running your fingers over the contours of his present thought, held just there, tasting it off the tip of his tongue: it’s you. He’s thinking of you, and the sight of yourself within the space of his mind is jarring like a snapping bone, ragged edges of white ivory, blood red marrow. You want to jerk away immediately at the sight of yourself, but you pause, take in the sight of yourself asleep earlier on the Crest. He’d woken before you, and you’re naked and vulnerable, cheek smushed against your folded hands, hair a bedraggled mess. He drags the pad of his thumb over the swell of your breast, feels the smoothness of your skin, leans forward and crowns a fading bruise along the slope of your shoulder with a kiss by the same mouth that had placed it there earlier. You can almost taste the scent of yourself on his tongue, and you smell like him, like you belong to him. The thought that you do, that you’re his follows, charges in on the tail end of your mingled scent. Ownership so pure, so intrinsic over another being should seem wrong, no? But it’s merely fact here, as he looks upon you. And he lo– 

You pull yourself back, blinking away furious, overwhelmed, distraught tears. Tears of exaltation and such grief. This is how he sees me, you think. I am beautiful and good in his eyes. Perhaps, the greatest lie you’ve ever made him believe. 

The Thalassian crone’s voice cracks in your mind, worth nothing more than an invisible and illusory thing, The Force. He doesn’t see it yet, he still believes in the game, but fate is about to best the both of you, you’re certain of it. And you feel so fucking angry at the thought, at the reminder and memory. So frustrated that they’d found you, that they’d pierced the bubble of happiness the two of you had secluded yourselves in these past weeks together, that you were letting them disrupt it. That you couldn’t let go of the past. 

“What do you see, cyar’ika?” His voice is gentler than the water. 

“Me.” Your tears salt the pool. 

“That’s you,” he whispers, reaches back to grasp your hip. And you want to argue, to make him see the fallacy for what it is, but it’s such a lovely lie. You can’t bring yourself to ruin the dream. A sob breaks in your throat, spills out, and he turns in the water, hugs your back to himself. His face is right there, so close, out in the open. You can almost touch the dream. “Don’t cry, little one. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry–” you gasp, press a hand over your mouth, swallow the horrible outpour back down.

“I’ve never resented my Creed more than I do right now.” He says it through clenched teeth, as if he knows he shouldn’t. “Not being able to look at your face, not being able to have you see me, to kiss you – I want to kiss you so badly.” Your heart drops down into your stomach. 

“Don’t. Don’t – you can’t. You don’t want that.”

He’s silent for a moment, stiff, and then slowly: “Why not?”

How to be honest without splitting yourself open? “You can’t give that to me, Din. I don’t– I don’t deserve it,” your voice ends on a shamed whisper. The idea of him trusting you with that last, most important thing, the sight of his face. It could never happen. Never.

“So many things you think you don’t deserve… It’s my choice, isn’t it?”

“It would be the wrong choice.”

“I’ve never done it, you know? No one has seen my face since I was a boy. The night you told me we ran the risk of you seeing me in my memory– sometimes I feel like I can’t even remember it myself. Like that isn’t even a possibility because the memory doesn’t exist. Like the face I occasionally glance at in the mirror isn’t actually me.” You could understand this so well, the phenomena of being wholly unrecognizable to yourself, and it was moments like these, when he said something that reminded you so entirely of yourself, that showed you how alike the two of you were in certain ways, that frightened you more than anything. That brought that keen sense of knowing into awareness. That made you awake to that thing you felt for him that you could not yet name or acknowledge. Acknowledging a thing brought it to life, after all. He presses another kiss over the bruise, intensifies it further with a pull of his mouth. “I never want anyone to know something about me that you don’t know. If I were ever to give it to anyone, it’d be to you.” As if he’s the one who possesses the power to read minds, not you, and you're pressing your hand over your eyes and turning in his embrace, blindly, madly shoving your face towards his and stumbling for his mouth. He grasps you around the waist, another hand to your jaw, squeezing so tight your bones feel set to burst, and with a snarl, he kisses you. Blindly, madly, like everything else this thing between the two of you has been, so full of risk. Your name in his mouth is a savage thing full of sharp teeth and want and violence, and you breathe a warbled moan into him as he pulls you further onto his lap so that you’re straddling him, aching cunt nestled against his hardness. “I never want anyone to know something about me that you don’t know,” he breathes again, licks the words onto the surface of your tongue, and you’re sure he’s trying to break you, to leave an imprint, a brand, a burn inside of you in the shape of him. Something that hurts worse than anything else ever has. It’s unfair, it is almost a cruelty, for Din– Din does not always know how a thing will end as you do. He’s absolved of such a curse, and so he must not suffer the certainty in which you’re sure there will come a time when there is a whole life of things about him which you’ll not bear witness to. It makes you cry harder, it makes you want to scream and rage and draw blood, to drink him down so that you might keep him forever. Please, please, let me keep him, let me keep him. You sob into his mouth, pull at his hair so hard he whimpers, subdues you with sharp teeth and pinching fingers. 

What is it? What is it, cyare? Tell me, and I’ll fix it for you. I cannot overcome your anguish. Your eyes are filled with darkness again, and I wish you wouldn’t cry. I know everything, and I’m still here.

You bury your face in his neck, mouth at the warm, damp salt of his skin, try and control your anguish. He doesn’t deserve these hysterics. He doesn’t deserve this. So many lies he doesn’t know you’ve embroiled him in, and you feel unfixable, like you’ll always disappoint him, like it’s inevitable. The Thalassians had been a savage reminder of this. Finally, the hiccuping cries settle, the ricocheting stone in your chest resting, and you prop your chin on his shoulder to look out at the dim surrounding cave. Steam rises off the surface of the warm pool, and the yawning mouths of the branching tributaries are pitch black holes descending into absolute darkness. You wonder, first, what it would be like to become lost in that maze of pure dark, you remember, second, that you already have been. 

“I haven’t been to a hot spring since before,” you murmur, unseeing, feel the ruffle of his overlong curls tickle your damp cheek. “I used to steal away to the ones on Carosi XII sometimes. I loved it–”

“Before…” He smoothes a large, rough paw up the sensitive line of your spine. Calluses catching at your skin, scraping and inciting. Drawing back down in a swoop to press at your tailbone, nestling his throbbing erection more snuggly between the lips of your sex. 

“My escape.” Quietly, as if speaking of it too loudly will undo the entire thing. 

“Ah.”

“It was so dark for so long,” you confess, voice full of air and ghosts.  

Both arms wrapped around your back now, he presses you tight as possible to himself, squeezes all the air and memories of the past out of your lungs. “What did it cost you? The dark, your freedom?” You wish he wouldn’t ask such things, you also want to tell him anyway. 

“Hard to define. My soul, I think. But I’m getting it back.” A soft hum, one that understands. “Have you ever felt like that… like you’d lost your soul?”

“Once or twice, maybe.” A bite to the line of muscle connecting your neck and shoulder, a slick slide of your hips ending in a jolt of pleasure. “A soul is a finicky thing to keep hold of constantly. Don’t you think?” You’ll never be happy anywhere else besides right here with him. Of this you’re absolutely certain.

“Undoubtedly. Slippery little fuckers – souls,” and his laughter is always such a gift, almost a benediction. You wrap your hand around his throat to feel the humming joy of it there, and it pulls your own from your heart, matches his happiness in the way he deserves. He deserves to have his joy reciprocated. To be with someone capable of such unadulterated happiness, that can give it to him and return it to him and amplify it ten fold. An illusory sort of thing… and Din, Din, Din deserves more than a non entity, more than something non existent. Your Mandalorian deserves so many things. You never thought it would be like this when the two of you first started this, that it would require so many things of you you’re not sure you can give. You press a soft kiss to the shell of his ear, eyes closed and safe, fingers twined through the damp curls at the back of his head. You wonder if they flop down over his forehead, if they’re laying slicked and soaking wet, pasted against his skin. You wonder what color his eyes are – dark, you think, dark and warm and rich like his hair. His scruff is grown out too, beard scratchy and a little scraggly. It leaves burns and raw marks on your skin that you press at when he’s away, not looking. The reminder of his mouth at your cunt and breasts. Another kiss to the rounding of bone behind his ear, the scrape of teeth over his jugular, the flavor of his collarbone. An entire sun inside the heart of a single man, and you wonder what that makes you. The dark sky that consumes him, perhaps? That steals the light? 

“What does your Creed cost you?”

“Everything,” he says, and your name shouts at you from his mind. The two of you are so alike in so many unknown ways again and again and again. And so many things frighten you, terrify you. You feel afraid of everything and weak and half made, only half a girl, half a creature. You don’t want him to be anything like you. You want him to be only himself full of all the greatness and goodness he possesses. 

He slides his palm between your thighs, rough fingers whispering and teasing, and then he’s pulling your hips back and notching the wide head at your entrance, wedging that thick cock inside of you, in, in, in, bumping at the mouth of your womb. No preamble, no warning, only claiming. You lay your head on his shoulder, so strong and broad, and watch your tears slide over the hill and down the valley of his back; your moan is ragged as you take him within you, and he burns inside of you like a fever. Or not like a fever, like a second heart, and there’s no reason to cry, you want to tell yourself, console yourself. He’s here, he’s as close to you as he can possibly be. And you’re happy, you are, but you are also aware. You are also yourself. You also know so many things about yourself and fate and destiny that he does not. 

“F–feel so– so fucking good, cyare.” You wrap both arms more tightly around his neck, bury your teeth in his skin, and he grips your ass with one hand, the other wrapped around your breast and pulls you harder onto his cock. “Always.”

“Din,” you whimper, clit grinding against the bone of his pelvis, little toes curling in pleasure as you moan for him.

“Yeah? Like that?” You feel him spread his knees wider beneath you, deepening the angle, and you brace your feel on the stone ledge behind him to leverage yourself better on his lap, ride him. “Fuck, yeah – just like that.” He wraps a fist in your hair, “Close your eyes. Let me see you – need to look at your face,” and he tugs your head back, chin tipped to the ceiling of the cave, throat bared, mouth hanging open. 

“Din, no– wait,” he takes too many risks. “You’re being careless–”

“Am I? I don’t give a fuck,” he grits. “I have to look at you, I have to. You can’t say no to me, you can’t tell me no.” He fucks up into you quicker, hitting that spine melting spot inside of you. “No one fucks this cunt like I do. No one,” he growls. 

No one, no one, no one. I have to look at you.

“Din, please–” you beg for something unknown. 

And he tells you that he knows and understands while he drags his fingers through your wet hair. “I know it’s so much,” and he pushes his hips up again, your cunt letting him in that little bit further, opening and blooming for him. He is changing – a changing sort of man. A phenomena of nature. He is changing you into something different. You can feel it like this hunger that cuts you in two. You fold yourself into the dream that soon your past self will be lost to you entirely if the two of you continue like this, but what worries you is that you are, in turn, changing him, as well. And you aren’t certain that whatever change wrought upon him by yourself would be something good, something that wouldn’t be damaging. 

But you… the sun could only ever change a dark thing for the better. And it was true that together you could do such incredible things, but you would not let yourself be destructive with him. You would not let yourself destroy him. “I’m not going to open my eyes,” you tell him. “I’m not going to open my eyes.”

And he begs: “Please,” but he does not say that which he’s begging for, and you won’t ask. He bends his head and pulls on the tip of your breast, sucks as much of the heavy weight of it as he can into his mouth, you’re so beautiful, he murmurs, fingertips gripping your bottom, slithering down to pet at the place where your cunt is stretched swollen around the thick root of him, wedges his fingers on either side to feel where he enters you. You rest your cheek on the crown of his head, wrapping your arms around him so that his face is buried in your breasts. The feel of his cock throbbing and swelling within you is maddening, and you’ve done this more times than you can count now, yet each time feels like there won’t be enough room within you to take him, that he’ll cleave you in two, cunt stretched to obscenity, to almost pain. The whole sun inside of a man like a god, inside of a girl who only ever wanted to be a god and failed. The whole sun illuminating the darkness into flame, and your cunt begins to pulse and flutter around him, pleasure like agony surging up your spine in electric sparks and pooling in your pelvis, tightening around him to rouse his own orgasm to spill forth and coat you from the inside. He groans savage and wanton and yours into the deep crevice of your breasts, you feel his tongue licking into the space between, tasting and branding, and you wrap around him like vines. 

Perhaps… one single moment of truth now. 

You realize you’ve never loved anything before in your entire life. You’ve never had anything to love. Din is the first. The memory of your parents, always too weak, too far removed to have ever been anything more than an acute yearning, but him, he is here, he is alive, he is with you, and you love him. 

And Din deserves so many things, but he does not deserve this. He does not deserve such a fate, such a damnation – the love of a creature such as you, a thing you’d not wish on your worst enemy. After all, it’s an impossible thing to swallow an entire sun, it’s an impossible thing to abscond entirely from the darkness. I’m sorry, you whisper as he stills within you, and he presses you so tight, as if he could squeeze out the very seed of wrongness that still lives within you.

You love him, and they will always come for you. As long as you’re alive, as long as the dark exists, as long as The Force exists they will always come for you. And one day they’ll go through him to get to you. Like some sort of grotesque chant in your mind, endlessly, without mercy, this is the only truth that remains. 

I’m sorry, you say again and again and again. 

“Cyare, I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what it is.”

And a lie to comfort can surely not be such a bad thing, if done with the right intention. Surely, it cannot be such a terrible thing. “It’s only that I’m so happy,” and you know, as soon as the words leave your mouth, that he won’t believe you, but he says nothing anyways, and it only makes you feel worse, for you know that his reticence only comes by way of his own fear. He's scared for you, scared of you, of the fact that he can feel that roiling shift within you, between you, and hasn’t yet managed to solve the riddle of it, of you. You realize that here and now, he’s scared of you. And the truth of it sears you, makes you feel worse than anything the Thalassians could have ever done to you, but this is the true mark, this is the scar forming, invisible above the injury. This is the true consequence, the worry and the apprehension and the seed of fear they’d planted between the both of you. 

“I believe in you above everything else,” you tell him in lieu of all the rest, in lieu of your love. 

He’s silent for a moment, the sound of his swallowed fear, “Why does it feel…sometimes, like all you’re doing is saying goodbye to me?”

Like a lancet through the throat, like dying, something worse than the darkside, but somehow, your voice is measured and even when you tell him, “I don’t think, even if the worst happened, that I’d ever really be able to say goodbye to you.”

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#TCC fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

pulling out of the angst listening to "A Pirate Today" for the chaggie spear kid and tripping directly into them and vaggie being pirate nerds together while disney princess charlie SUFFERS

Billy: “Mom? How come mom has a super cool epic eyepatch, and no one else at the hotel does?”

Charlie: “Be-caaauuse she’s… missing an eye?”

Billy: “Oh! Why’s it missing?”

Charlie: “Uh.”

Billy: “Did someone TAKE it?”

Charlie: “Well-”

Billy: “Are we gonna get it back for her?”

Charlie: “That's a nice thought but I don’t think-”

Billy: “Was it glass, like a marble? Or was it REAL? Did it bleed?? Did someone cut it out of her head with a knife after she refused their dastardly orders and paid the price in her own flesh!? Is that how she met YOU and lost her heart as well!???”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “You’ve been reading Vaggie’s pirate books again, haven’t you.”

Billy: “She says I’m too young to read ‘em.”

Charlie: “Uh-huh. Which one are you on?”

Billy: “The Curse of the Skeleton Crew and the Bedding of Bonnie Bodyripper’s Beautiful Bounty Huntress.”

Charlie: “And the WHAT OF THE WHAT NOW???”

Billy: “There’s a lot of boring parts I skip past… but the fights are AMAZING!”

Charlie: “…I.. think we should get you some of your own pirate books. CHILD APPROPRIATE pirate books.”

Billy: “’kay. But what about mom’s eye. Can we really not get it back for her?”

Charlie: “You’re really hung up on the eye thing tonight huh.”

Billy: “She bumped into a table again.”

Charlie: “Aww, kiddo- she’s done that so many times, she’ll be okay!”

Billy: “… I was the one who’d moved it. And didn’t put it back.”

Charlie: “That’s okay too. Everyone makes mistakes-”

Billy: “It was a pirate ship and she was picking up the old bottles uncle Husky let me use for secret messages, after aunty Angel Dust almost slipped on one in his heels. Mom dropped some when the table bumped her.”

Charlie: “Well sounds like someone forgot to sing their ‘clean up, clean up’ sea shanty song~” (grins)

Billy: (doesn't grin back)

Charlie: (droops) “Did you help her spiff up the ship?”

Billy: “I was TRYING to! I just wanted to hand her a bottle, only I was on the wrong side and she reached out too far and touched my hand and-”

Billy: “…”

Charlie: “…the flinching again?”

Billy: “The bottle broke when she dopped it, that time.”

Charlie: “It’s okay.” (hugs them) “You know it’s not about you, right?”

Billy: “Someone hurt her didn’t they.”

Charlie: “Mm." (hugs tighter) "Vaggie’s had a pretty, adventurous life, even before I met her and we started the whole hotel thing.”

Billy: “Did the person who hurt her look like me?”

Charlie: “Oh baby that’s not why-”

Billy: “So they did.”

Charlie: “NO. Not at all. They don’t have your big smile or silly laugh like you do.” (hugs them closer) “There’s no one anywhere who’s like you, and Vaggie doesn’t want you to be anyone else ever.”

Billy: "Were they a bad person?"

Charlie: "I don't do the whole bad-person good-person. They were. Not nice."

Billy: "Like a pirate?"

Charlie: "I think calling them that'd be an insult. To the pirates."

Billy: “….was mom a pirate with them?”

Charlie: “She… she’s more of a pirate now, kinda. One of the good ones.”

Billy: “Saying fuck it to dumb rules and laying it all on the line for her new captain and crew?”

Charlie: (wincing) “I need another talk with your ‘uncle Husky’. Also, Vaggie doesn’t have a captain.”

Billy: “But if the hotel’s her ship, and you founded it, then-”

Charlie: “-then we’re co-captains!”

Billy: “Mom. That’s not how ships work.”

Charlie: “It is on THIS one.”

Billy: “Her being your first mate makes more sense though!”

Charlie: “Noooope! Our ship, our rules. AND our rules still include bedtime!” (scoops them up)

Billy:  (grumbling) “There’s gonna be mutiny over this someday…”

Vaggie: (slipping out of the shadows) “Aye, but not until you’re old enough to yell about it not being a phase, apparently. Ye scallywag.”

Charlie: “I STILL can’t believe dad told you about that.”   

Billy: “Mom! I-” (shyly) “…sorry about the ship. And the, glass and the stuff.”

Vaggie: “More of a shipwreck, yeah? Don't worry.” (smiles) (holds up note) “The broken bottle had a message in it.”

Billy: “Oh that’s-!”

Vaggie: “It’s got SEKRET written on it, in something that’s probably not blood-”

Billy: “Aunt Niffty helped with that.”

Vaggie: “…written in something that’s probably just rat blood...”

Charlie: (groans) “Great. More ‘child appropriate environment’ talks.”

Billy: “Heheh.”

Vaggie: “Anyway, here.” (hands over note) “Pirates respect each other’s secrets.”

Billy: (gingerly taking it without touching her) “No they don’t? None of the ones in your books do.”

Vaggie: “My books- sweetie, which my books?”

Charlie: “Bonnie Bodyripper.”

Billy: “Curse of the Skeleton Crew!!!”

Vaggie: “Oh thank ff…eather dusters…. Not one of the wild ones then.”

Charlie: “THAT’S not a wild one!?”

Vaggie: (shrug) (at kid) “Did Bonnie Bodyripper read the bounty huntresses letter when she found it lying on the cabin floor while looking for her clothes?”

Billy: “No…”

Charlie: “LOOKING FOR HER WHAT.”

Billy: “She’d’ve seen the betrayal coming sooner and could’ve stopped it, if she had.”

Vaggie: “But she wanted to trust the huntress. You read the ending?”

Billy: “It’s the best part! The huntress swings in and saves her! They kill SO MANY guards together and blow up a SHIP and and and-”

Vaggie: “Yeah okay right, uhhhhh- the actual ending. On the last page.”

Billy: “Bonnie says she fell in love with a huntress who could hurt her and she was okay with that.”

Charlie: “Ehhh.”

Billy: “It’s like with the sea, mom. There were parts of the huntress maybe Bonnie’d never find out about, and she was okay with that too! Because the parts she did know were something the huntress had shared with her.”

Charlie: “Aww, that’s…”

Billy: “And then they wrestle.”

Charlie: “…still not something you should be reading yet, yep.”

Billy: “What’s boring wrestling have to do with anything?”

Vaggie: “Forget the wrestling. Point is, people hurt each other sometimes, sweetie." (tickles them with a wing) "What matters it what they do after.”

Billy: “Heh!" (wiggles) (grins) "Did the person who took your eye say sorry afterwards?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “No.”

Billy: “Okay.” (thinks for a moment) “So I’m not like them.”

Charlie: “MUCH cuter.”

Vaggie: “You… are stalling, you sea rat.”

Billy: “No ‘m not!”

Vaggie: “Bellow decks and into bed with you.”

Billy: “Where’d you get the eyepatch??”

Charlie: “That’s a story for tomorrow, kiddo! Bedtime is crucial to a child’s development!”  

Billy: “I’m enveloped I’m enveloped! Pleeease just five more minutes-!”

Vaggie: “Nuh-uh, you heard your mom. Captain’s orders.”

Charlie: “Don’t you start.”

Vaggie: “Babe, it really doesn’t make sense for there to be two captains at one time.”

Billy: “HA!”

Charlie: “What does it even matter anyway? We’re running a hotel, not an actual ship-”

Vaggie: “And I’m the hotel manager, which makes me your first mate.”

Billy: “See mom? TOLD you!”

Charlie: “But you’d look good in that fancy captain’s outfit!”

Billy: “Oh so that’s why you stare at mom’s book covers before confiscating them..”

Vaggie: “Charlie, it’s not about who looks good in it- It’s about division of duties onboard and proper crew management-”

Billy: “Tell her!”  

Charlie: “This is a hotel!”

Vaggie: “Guest management. Whatever.”

Charlie: “You just like that I’D be the one in the long coat and ruffles!”

Vaggie: “It’s a perk. But that’s not the point.”

Charlie: “This whole thing doesn’t have any point to it and if I’m captain then I can just promote you to captain too so HA!”

Vaggie: “Pirate captains are elected, babe.”

Billy: “They’re elected, mom.”

Vaggie: “It’s a popular vote thing.”

Billy: “I think maybe YOU need to read the books too, instead of just going gooey eyed over the covers.”

Charlie: “I’m starting to think no one in this family should be reading them…”

Vaggie: “Fine. Let’s vote on it.”

Charlie: “Oh come on!”

Billy: “All in favor of being historically accurate hotel pirates say aye!”

Vaggie: “Aye.”

Billy: “Aye!”

Charlie: “ARGH!”

Billy: “Out voted~”

Vaggie: (pats charlie’s shoulder) “Good job getting into the spirit of things though.”

Billy: “Pirates didn’t really go ‘Arrg’ did they?”

Charlie: “Well THIS one sure does.” (leads the way to bedtime) “What’s the point of being captain anyway if you don’t win any arguments?”

Vaggie: “We’ll let you win the next one. Pirate’s oath.”

Charlie: (sighing) “Argh…”

Billy: “You mean. We’ll let her win the next, the-” (giggles) “-the next ARGHument, right?”

Vaggie: (groans)

Charlie: “…okay.” (cracks smile) “THAT'S worth being a pirate for.”

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #chaggie spear child au thing #charlie morningstar #vaggie #oc kid #silly family time #light angst #realized during this that i gotta for myself call this kid “billy” #bc of the #being charlie's kid and the #billy goat thing

[littledata]

I know you’re probably working on those prompts, but I, too, just ended up on North Sea tiktok, and if you have time, I’m curious what Ava’s reaction to that particular algorithmic destination would be. Because like, Bea’s the most capable person ever, but those waves are Very Big, and why isn’t everyone tethered to the boat at all times??

(From the on that dizzy edge universe. An example video if anyone would like context.)

For a long time, Ava's TikTok experience was predictable. It mostly went: hot girl biting her lip, hot girl playing guitar, hot dude baking a cake, weirdly mesmerising crafting video, drama about people she'd never met, hot person kissing another hot person.

The number of straight-up thirst traps has been on the decline recently though - mostly because Ava just has to turn her head and Bea will be changing her shirt or using a hammer or standing perfectly still, all of which is a lot hotter than any video she's ever seen. In its infinite wisdom though, The Algorithm has seen her scrolling past those videos and decided it needs to fill the void with something else.

That thing, apparently, is North Sea TikTok.

They're lying in bed when it happens for the first time. Beatrice had spent the first few weeks after she came home insisting they should try to maintain separate bedrooms, move their relationship along at an orderly and appropriate pace, but she pretty quickly gave in to the allure of spooning and her bedroom defaulted to being both of theirs.

Now, before they go to sleep, they often end up lying side by side while Beatrice reads one of her insane books about lesbian necromancers or whatever and Ava scrolls TikTok or reads fanfiction about hot people falling in love in coffee shops and stuff. It makes her feel mature and settled and safe in a way that's sometimes so exciting she has to take Bea's book out of her hands and make out with her about it.

Anyway, so they're doing that (lying in bed, not making out) when it shows up on her for you page. It starts with the weird, slow sea shanty, then there's the huge waves, and then someone is getting slammed in the face with the fucking ocean.

Ava lets it loop. Then she lets it loop again. Then she taps on the suggested search north sea tiktok and she's presented with a thousand more videos exactly like the first. People falling overboard and huge waves crashing over ships and and and -

"Bea." Ava taps her arm insistently.

Bea looks up from her book without much concern - she doesn't use TikTok but she does submit to being shown Ava's curated favourites. Also, she's wearing glasses and she looks super cute.

No, Ava, don't get distracted.

"Bea," she repeats and holds her phone up to her face.

Beatrice watches with a scrutinising gaze. When the video finishes, she says, "They really shouldn't be filming in those situations, it's distracting them from proper safety precautions."

Ava stares at her. "That's all you have to say? They could have died."

"Possibly," Beatrice agrees. "Once someone falls overboard it's very difficult to recover them, although certainly not impossible. And it depends a lot on the kind of ship. I assume someone wouldn't post a video where someone died though."

Although Beatrice's naivety about what people are willing to post on the internet is adorable, Ava's mind is stuck somewhere in between the words overboard and impossible. Even Beatrice, careful and capable as she is, couldn't keep herself from being swept off her feet by some of those waves. Ava can picture her so vividly, disappearing under the surface.

"You're not making me feel better about this."

"Oh." Beatrice blinks in surprise as if she has only just realised that they aren't having a purely practical discussion. She puts her book carefully down on the nightstand. "I'm not sure what to say. I can't lie to you and pretend it isn't dangerous. Those are cherry-picked clips showing the worst though, it isn't always like that."

Which, yeah, okay, Ava already knew it was dangerous. For all the months that Beatrice is away she lives with the low-level, prickling anxiety that the next call she gets will be telling her Bea is hurt, or worse. It's different seeing it though, seeing how quick it is, how powerful -

"How often are you in the north sea?" she asks, as if that's the only problem with it.

Beatrice winces, "Well, it depends. The contracts I work - " She explains something complicated and lengthy about shipping and demand and the company she works for and Ava thinks she's the most interesting person in the world but this stuff is, also, a little bit boring and she's still pretty busy picturing her girlfriend's imminent death.

She needs to send these videos to Camila. If there's anyone she can rely on to overreact with her, it's Camila.

"Ava," Beatrice says, seeing that she's lost her. She tugs Ava's phone gently from her hands and puts it down next to her book. Then she wraps one arm around Ava's shoulders and the other around her waist and pulls her in close.

Ava has always loved being hugged by Bea, even before they got together - she's strong and solid and lets Ava hold on for as long as she needs to. (Also, she smells fucking amazing, like, all the time).

It wasn't until they started dating that she realised Beatrice had been holding something of herself back though, not letting herself relax entirely whenever they touched. Now, it's as if her whole body sinks into it, like some tension evaporates the moment Ava's arms are around her.

Ava pushes her face into Beatrice's chest and inhales, lets herself hide there in the fabric of her shirt for a moment. It's dark and warm and hard to worry about anything.

"I promise I do everything I possibly can to come home safe to you," Beatrice says into her ear, "I'm sorry I can't give you any more reassurance than that."

"Okay," Ava says, voice muffled against Beatrice's chest. It's not enough but it has to be enough. This is Bea's job, the thing she loves more than anything else, and Ava won't ever touch the sanctity of that. "I'm still going to worry about you."

"I know." Beatrice presses a kiss into her hair and pulls back, "I worry about you too though, when I'm gone."

Ava rolls her eyes, "The most dangerous thing that could happen to me is Lilith finally snapping and turning on everyone she loves."

"So fairly likely then?" Beatrice asks.

Ava snorts, "Like a 90% chance."

They settle themselves to go to sleep, lying down fully and adjusting the pillows and blankets. That's another thing Ava learned recently: Beatrice - her big, tough sailor - likes being the little spoon. She won't admit to that, obviously, but she sighs contentedly whenever Ava wraps her arms around her from behind.

So when Beatrice reaches up to switch the lamp off, Ava does just that, presses herself against Bea's back. She listens to Beatrice's breathing become slow and even, and she clings on.

#extra writing #asks