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hausofanya · 4 months

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୨୧ 𓂃 2KIDS ROOM : CLÉO X BANG CHAN - EP. 02 JAN. 31ST, 2022

CLÉO’S LOOKS

THE 2 KIDS ROOM INTRO PLAYS, FEATURING A SMATTERING OF MOMENTS BETWEEN THE PAIRING LAUGHING AND TALKING BEFORE THE LOGO SHOWS AND FADES OUT.

BANG CHAN : CLÉOOOO!!! ah, i’m so happy you’re here!

CLÉO : [ GRINNING AS SHE LIGHTLY JOGS TOWARDS THE COUCH ] aw, really?

BANG CHAN : [ SCOOTS OVER TO MAKE SPACE FOR HER ] yes?? you’re one of my favorite kids.

CLÉO : [ SITS DOWN BUT PAUSES TO LOOK AT HIM WITH AN INCREDULOUS EXPRESSION ] you have favorites?

BANG CHAN : [ LOOKING AT THE CAMERA WITH A TIRED BUT FOND GRIN ] please edit this out.

CLÉO : [ JUMPING UP IMMEDIATELY ] NO! leave it in. this is my proof. bin’s gonna throw a FIT. [ SHE GRINS AT CHAN BEFORE HER GAZE DROPS TO THE TABLE WITH INTEREST ] candy grapes, ouuu…

BANG CHAN : [ HE SHAKES HIS HEAD SLOWLY BEFORE LAUGHING QUIETLY ]

𖧷

LEE KNOW : i think chan really likes having a girl in the group.

SEUNGMIN : mm, really?

FELIX : no, i think so, too! it’s like… it keeps him levelheaded, a bit.

LEE KNOW : for one, the group is definitely a lot more structured.

[ ALL OF THEM LAUGH. ]

FELIX : oh, yeah. definitely.

SEUNGMIN : it’s actually kind of impressive how quickly she kinds of. what’s the word…

FELIX : takes charge?

LEE KNOW : she definitely has a lot of more authority despite the age ranking. it’s also kind of surreal how well everyone listens to her.

FELIX : i like having a girl in the group, too. but it’s not like… ‘oh my god, it’s a girl!’ like she’s a different species, or something. i think she definitely brings us closer.

SEUNGMIN : one thing i kind of appreciate is the cleaning regimen she made, a lot more than i let on. back when we were still living together? structure is good. everyone has specific things that are assigned to them, and it makes keeping the dorms cleaner a lot easier.

[ EVERYONE NODS IN AGREEMENT. ]

LEE KNOW : i like i said, the dorms were definitely a lot structured than they would be.

FELIX : they just kind of act very similar? like two puzzle pieces. they just click. they think very similarly and i think that really helps with the way things function with the team.

LEE KNOW : they do think very similarly. they also sass very similarly!

[ FELIX LAUGHS AS SEUNGMIN’S GRIN TURNS PLEASED. ]

LEE KNOW : no really. hannah and cléo are friends, so chan has to keep up with the insane amount of sass both of them throw his way. and i think it transfers back to the way he acts around us, too.

𖧷

BANG CHAN : i know you get asked this a lot, but what’s it really like dorming and working with eight guys?

[ CLÉO EYES THE CAMERA WITH A JOKINGLY TIRED SMILE. CHAN GASPS IN GOOD NATURE, COMICALLY WILTING IN HIS SEAT. ]

BANG CHAN : are we that bad?

CLÉO : no, no!—actually .. [ CLÉO LAUGHS WHEN CHAN SHOVES HER ARM PLAYFULLY. ] for the most part, it’s what i would imagine like… boarding school would be like. [ A PAUSE. ] for the record though, i’m really glad i do get to have my own room.

BANG CHAN : no yeah, a hundred percent. privacy is definitely something i know is important to you.

CLÉO : but, it’s also like… i really do appreciate the times where … one of you knock—im really glad you all knock, by the way. i’ve never said that, but it shows respect of my own space that goes a long way—but i appreciate when you ask to spend time with me when i don’t realize i’ve spent a lot of time cooped up in my room. you do that the most, i feel. the most next to felix.

BANG CHAN : i just think it’s important that you don’t feel left out, you know? or at least know that you’re being thought of or about.

CLÉO : growing up with alexei—im a twin in case no one knew—was great, so it’s kinda like… living with eight different versions of him with different personalities. [ CHAN SNORTS. ] and i have guy friends, too. [ CLÉO POINTS TO THE CAMERA, ] shoutout to the housewives. so it’s not all that different, really. but not the same? i don’t know how to explain it. i love and appreciate you and the boys a whole lot. you’re all special to me.

BANG CHAN : but i’m the special-est.

[ CLÉO GLANCES AT THE CAMERA AGAIN WITH AN AMUSED EXPRESSION AS CHAN LAUGHS. ]

CLÉO : i’m pretty sure that’s not a word.

BANG CHAN : it is now.

CLÉO : your kids are gonna watch this and the group chat is going to be livid after.

[ CHAN SHRUGS PLAYFULLY AS CLÉO SINKS INTO THE COUCH CUSHIONS AND LAUGHS. ]

𖧷

HYUNJIN : they kind of balance each other out, i feel.

HAN : i agree—while she’s more introverted and helps him on when to relax more, he’s a lot more extraverted and brings her out of her shell. it’s a win win situation, honestly.

I.N : i’m actually really glad she got added to the final line up. i was initially curious to how it would work out, and it’s been really, really good.

CHANGBIN : they banter a lot in english, lately, i’ve noticed.

HAN : they do!!!

HYUNJIN : she seems quiet and really put together but she loves teasing him a lot. she really likes teasing him about song lyrics, and STAY really gets a kick out of that.

CHANGBIN : her austrailian accent is kind of flawless, too.

HAN : she’ll be like—she really gets a kick out of how he pronounces her name.

I.N : [ IN A TERRIBLE AUSTRALIAN ACCENT ] CLEAUR!

[ EVERYONE LAUGHS. JEONGIN REPEATS HIMSELF, BUTCHERING HIS PRONUNCIATION, LEADING EVERYONE TO MIMIC HIM IN JEST. ]

𖧷

CLÉO : you were the first… how do i put this. the first older brother figure i had, you know?

BANG CHAN : really?

CLÉO : mm. aside from alexei, but he’s like two minutes older so he doesn’t count. [ CHAN SNORTS. ] when i moved here from new york, it was already so new. and i don’t think it stopped being new despite having lived here for a few years even before debut. and i appreciated what you did for me so much more than i let on, especially after debut. and i think until like… way up until 2019, even?

BANG CHAN : i like the way we work together now so much more than we used to.

CLÉO : oh, no, yeah. i was kind of a hermit for the first year and some change of stray kids.

[ THEY BOTH LAUGH, THEN SHARE SOME GRAPES. ]

CLÉO : i felt like… like i had something to prove? because there was some much buzz around ‘woah, they have a girl in their group!’ to the point where i felt like it was a little bit taboo. and so i kind of shrunk into myself. despite knowing jin from school and the rest of you being really cool about it.

BANG CHAN : i’m just glad you stayed, honestly. there were times when i seriously though you were going to quit. i wouldn’t have blamed you, though. if you did leave.

[ THOUGHTFUL CHEWING ON CLÉO’S PART. CHAN WATCHES HER ATTENTIVELY. ]

CLÉO : but it’s not like i feel like i ‘stuck it out’, though? i genuinely wanted to be here. like despite not offering much outside of. um. music and idol services, i wanted to be here. with you. with all you. it just took me a while to really sort of….

BANG CHAN : let yourself go?

CLÉO : [ NODDING ] let myself go. and you were so kind about it, too. i remember once instance where i was being difficult because i couldn’t hit this one note—and it was pissing me off because i knew i could do it. and you were in the recording booth, and you kind of just… you looked at me funny and told me to take a break and we went out for spicy ramen even though we both knew you have terrible spice tolerance—

[ CHAN SPUTTERS OUT A LAUGH AND CLÉO SNICKERS LOWLY. ]

cléo : —and we just talked about literally anything and everything but that stupid note. and i wanted to cry that night because i felt…….. like someone cared. i think that night was when i really did start opening up more. not just to you, but to everyone else.

BANG CHAN : i remember that night.

CLÉO : yeah?

BANG CHAN : it’s a fond memory for me.

[ CLÉO’S SMILE IS SOFT WHEN SHE LOOKS AT HIM, GRINNING WITH A SMALL CHEER WHEN SHE TOSSES A GRAPE AT HIM AND HE CATCHES IT IN HIS MOUTH. ]

CLÉO : me too.

𖧷

SEUNGMIN : she acts very sibling-like, don’t you think?

FELIX : she’s actually really good friends with my sister—i think they talk pretty frequently.

LEE KNOW : she’s really good friends with chan’s sister, hannah, too. and i’ve seen cléo’s twin talk with him on occasion, too.

FELIX : i think they fit together in a way unlike i’ve seen before. they’re always in the studio together hashing things out, even though cléo knows when to step away from the mic. [ HE PAUSES, SCRUNCHES HIS NOSE UP. ] sometimes.

[ EVERYONE LAUGHS. ]

LEE KNOW : if not from the fact that they’re from different parts of the entire world, if you asked me now, i would have guessed they grew up around each other. they really do have that good sibling-like relationship. it’s nice to see.

SEUNGMIN : i think he feels very protective over her? like he’s already super protective over all of us, but with cléo…

LEE KNOW : you caught onto that, too?

FELIX : i really do think she reminds him of his sister. hannah and cléo are pretty close.

SEUNGMIN : i’ve actually never seen them fight.

FELIX, LEE KNOW : really??

SEUNGMIN : not once. because cléo is like… with chan, he gets mad and he goes away to calm down for a bit and then offers to talk. when cléo gets mad, she takes a deep breath and removes herself from the situation, even when it doesn’t benefit anyone at the time. and then they sort of like. meet each other in the middle and talk it out. they’re always talking it out.

LEE KNOW : i’ve noticed that with them individually but never together.

FELIX : [ IN A JOKING TONE ] they’re so perfect. and levelheaded.

[ EVERYONE LAUGHS ONCE AGAIN. ]

𖧷

BANG CHAN : do you remember the time we both lost our headphones?

CLÉO : [ EYES WIDENING MID CHEW ] dude.

BANG CHAN : and couldn’t find them anywhere?

CLÉO : i don’t think dorms have ever been that tense. like ever. even when hanji and jin used to be at each other’s throats.

BANG CHAN : i think we’re very similar in the way we seek comfort. musically, at least.

CLÉO : [ NODDING THOUGHTFULLY ] i think so, too. i tweeted out once—

BANG CHAN : [ JOKINGLY ] oh no…

[ CLÉO SMACKS HIS ARM LIGHTLY AND CHAN LAUGHS, CRADLING HIS ARM TO HIS CHEST. CLÉO ROLLS HER EYES, BUT EVENTUALLY CRACKS AN AMUSED SMILE. ]

CLÉO : i tweeted out once that i couldn’t survive without my playlists. i think i should have said i couldn’t survive without my headphones instead.

BANG CHAN : it was definitely a hostile few days.

CLÉO : why do you think so?

BANG CHAN : everyone was walking on eggshells around the both of us. and we couldn’t do much about it because we’d both lost—misplaced—something equally important.

CLÉO : we’re very similar that way. i kind of like that.

BANG CHAN : [ TEASINGLY ] you like how we’re rendered unapproachable when we lose things?

CLÉO : [ IN THE SAME TONE ] is this how you treat your favorites?

BANG CHAN : [ BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER ] i don’t have favorites!

CLÉO : mhm… but anyway. i meant in the way we ended up seeking each other out. you realize we spent a lot more time in the studio together during that time?

BANG CHAN : [ GENTLY CLAPS ] that’s right! and we started working on your raps more.

CLÉO : [ POINTS AT HIM, THEN AT THE CAMERA WITH A WICKED GRIN ] i’m coming for 3racha’s titles. count on it. i’ll outrap even bin.

BANG CHAN : [ SMILES FONDLY AT HER BEFORE BOWING TO THE CAMERA ] please look forward to cléo’s debut.

𖧷

CHANGBIN : i remember when we were first starting out and she would get really bothered by how people would ask her things like ‘why didn’t you just join a girl group?’ or ask her things like if she was with us for attention. for the first year she was really quiet and even though she acted like it wasn’t bothering her, i could tell that she didn’t like that they were focusing on her addition in that way.

I.N : i can’t imagine what she went through.. but i also really can’t imagine us without her, either.

HYUNJIN : during the first year, since we both graduated the same year—it was like watching a bright light slowly dim. and it was heartbreaking to watch, knowing i could do virtually nothing but tell her to focus on the good.

HAN : i think when we say ‘skz isn’t skz without cléo’ or ‘nine or nothing’, people are like, ‘oh, they’re just saying that because they have to defend her.’ but cléo has been one of us since the very beginning. yes, her addition was unexpected but she became a part of stray kids the moment they both said yes.

CHANGBIN : and i think that’s why they’re so close. because there’s this.. understanding that they both have. cléo is here because of chan, and vice versa. we were incomplete, and cléo was that missing piece.

[ SOMEONE SNIFFLES AND THEY ALL LOOK AROUND IN BEWILDERMENT. ]

CHANGBIN : innie—?

HYUNJIN : oh, he’s crying—

I.N : [ HIDING HIS FACE FROM THE CAMERA ] i’m not crying, shut up—

[ THE OTHER THREE LAUGH - THOUGH NOT AT HIM. THEY ALL GIVE A FEW SECONDS TO COMPOSE HIMSELF. ]

CHANGBIN : cry if you need to. she’s important to all of us.

HAN : i think i can speak for everyone when i say she means a lot of us. she’s just… something clicked the day she first recorded with us. i’m not exaggerating when i say i felt whole. and it makes me upset to know that people haven’t accepted that, even still.

[ HAN SQUEEZES JEONGIN’S SHOULDER REASURINGLY AS THE OTHERS NOD IN AGREEMENT. ]

I.N : she’ll always be one of us no matter what.

𖧷

BANG CHAN : any last words?

CLÉO : wow. that’s not remotely threatening at all ..

[ CHAN MOVES TO PRETEND TO HIT HER WITH ONE OF THE THROW PILLOWS, MAKING HER DUCK AND LAUGH. ]

CLÉO : jokes aside, um. thanks for believing in me and what i could do. i’ll work hard to bring the best version of myself in all that i bring to not just stray kids, but to everything that i set out to accomplish. it’s more than just having a dream, i’ve realized. putting in the hard work to actually achieve it speaks more volume than just waxing poetic, so. here’s to letting myself go.

BANG CHAN : you’re very brave, you know that, right?

CLÉO : [ SCRUNCHING HER FACE UP ] just say your part already, oh my god ..

[ CHAN ONLY LAUGHS AS CLÉO HIDES HER FACE IN PARTIAL EMBARRASSMENT. ]

BANG CHAN : thank you for believing in me, too. ‘cause it’s not all one sided, you know? you chose this as much as we chose you. and it goes the same for the others, too. i think we’re very fortune to have you on our team, and stray kids wouldn’t be the same without you. so thank you for letting yourself go.

[ SOME COMMOTION HAPPENS BEHIND THE CAMERA, CAUSING THE PAIR TO LOOK UP IN SURPRISE. ]

CLÉO : [ JOKINGLY ] look at that. you made the staff cry, you sick man.

BANG CHAN : this is your fault, too—!

CLÉO : [ SHE SHAKES HER HEAD, TURNING TO LOOK BEHIND THE CAMERA WITH COMICALLY EXAGGERATED SYMPATHY. ] i am so sorry you had to hear that. truly.

[ CHAN STARES INTO THE CAMERA IN DEFEAT. ]

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simpliao · 2 years

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plz im so excited i found your blog!! if you feel like it, could you write something about him and the reader getting into a fight and the reader tries to storm out but he won't let them bc (not to be parasocial) he seems like the type to have a "never go to sleep angry" mentality and im a sucker for hurt/comfort :(((( thank you in advance, and if you dont get to it thank you anyways for the writing you've already done!!

growing pains ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : although schlatt is comically angry for entertaining purposes online, it doesn't mean his anger doesn't seep into his real life too. moving in is stressful, he does it enough to know. although when it's someone else moving into his space, the stress of the change puts a strain on the both of them.

info : swearing, angst turned fluff, she/her, afab reader.

a/n : happy to hear it, anon ! it's such a blessing to have you here, again, thanks for the support ! ♡ I'm not a hundred percent confident in this one shot, but hopefully you enjoy ! thank you so much for requesting !

Budding romance was meant to be idyllic and sweet, right? Being with a newly found lover was supposed to be peaches and roses, the kind of happily ever after feeling foretold in every folk tale out there. That's what would have been figured by Schlatt, having a harboured love of sappy sweet love songs, being new to this kind of thing made actually being in a relationship throw him for a loop. Sure he's had his fair share of one night stands and school crushes, but it never extended to the level of which he's shared with Y/n.

She was this kind of ethereal perfection in his eyes, adoring her as if the woman hung the very stars and moon themselves. After a handful of months, of course he thought it would be logical to ask her to move in. She slept over at his place quite a number of times, she always seemed to at home anyways, what would be the difference of actually having her all the time?

A lot, actually. It started good, moving her in was actually fun. The pair seeing who could manage to carry the heaviest box up to his place, racing to see who could make it back down the building first, and of course hearing her little stories about every item she owned. Finding a place for everything took some creativity, but worked out in the end.

The first night also went swimmingly, having his woman all to himself was a nice change. That was until that following morning he awoke to his bathroom occupied and showing no signs of ever opening up. Just fifteen more minutes! Or so she said, it was never just fifteen minutes. He adored hearing her laugh, but not so much when he was demanding for her to open up so he could shit. It was easy in time to get fed up with the friends she'd bring home, having their little get together's while he was banished to the bedroom to sulk. Not even beginning to mention that one 'guy friend' he just wants to strangle.

Her nagging as he so lovingly referred to it to his friends, was also not appreciated. It's as since she moved in all he heard was complaints directed towards him, you're too loud, you never hang out with me anymore, could you put that in the sink? It was like living with his own mother and slowly he grew to loathe her presence.

It wasn't exactly the easiest for her either.

Being that the New Yorker didn't enjoy having many people over, he never really had a reason to keep his place clean. She'd been over, and being that she never used to stay over longer than a night and morning, it was easy enough to ignore. When it was that she lived with cluttered counters and dirty dishes that sat way longer than they should, she ended up taking upon the role of housewife (or glorified maid).

The mostly convenient-oriented, and occasional forgetful male had bought machines to do basic care for Jambo; and yet at times forgot to empty or refill said machines. That feeling of taking on all the home responsibility was suffocating, and yet she only mentioned it briefly in passing considering that it was his place. She felt more like a guest than a member in what was supposed to be their home.

And the lack of sleep from his irregular sleep habits causing him to be practically yelling into late hours of the night didn't help a bit. Despite knowing she loved this gentle giant, for his hidden away kind nature and charming personality, she grew sick of it all.

Life continued on, and despite inconveniences, the two pretended everything was okay for a while. It worked for the most part, but bottling feelings only caused them to pressurize until the whole thing blows up in their faces. Today was supposed to be another one of those days, unremarkable and really just another Tuesday. However, what they say about the straw that broke the camel's back is soundly true.

From the afternoon onwards, the pair hadn't stopped going at it; both parties forgetting what exactly started this fight in the first place. This shouting match being the only relief they'd had to voice out their issues, by the time the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and a blanket of Prussian blue long having been spread across the city skies, it had gotten far too personal. It was like every word was meant to attack the other person, it was only a matter of time before words were exchanged that weren't meant to be said.

"Have you ever considered the fact that I don't actually want you here?" Schlatt had been seeing nothing but scolding red, speaking lies with such conviction for just a minute he believed it was true. And yet as the moment settled, and rather than yell back something else, the woman he knew he still adored gave a stare of a completely crushed spirit. Mouth hung agape, shock and hurt evident from her complete silence. He could see tears begin to well up, and that's when his expression fell. He stumbled on his following words, although her name could be made out as she dashed past him.

He hesitated going after her, she had just gone to the bedroom and he figured they needed some time to cool off before attempting to meld anything back together. It was only when he spotted her speeding out with a hastily packed suitcase that he bolted to apprehend her. "Y/n." "If that's how you really felt you should have just said so." He was quick to grab her wrists to prevent her from taking off, "there's a lot of things we both should have said." His accent being what it is, made his words sound unfairly harsh. "Schlatt, please, I get it. You don't want me here." "No! Listen, just..."

He could feel anger involuntarily rising from his chest. So knowing restraining her like this and ending up in another bout of hostile yelling, he made the decision he knew would at least calm him down enough to speak out what needed to be said. So tugging her closer, she practically fell into his arms. Although the first couple moments she tried to fight it again, uttering his name as a plea that made a diminuendo with every cry. All he did was stand there, chin resting upon the top of her head, his eyes closed and basking in the feeling of her held close, her overly scented shampoo filling his sinuses; a hit of dopamine rushing his brain. They stood like that for a while, the need for a timeout to the relentless fighting well needed. His thoughts cleared, for the first time today that was, and he began by squeezing her closer before letting much needed words escape him. "I'm sorry."

By this point, she had also given up trying to escape his embrace, blinking away tears as best as she could. "Listen to me, Y/n." He spoke in a tone she never expected to be so faint, delicate and airy as if should he speak above this hushed whisper the woman held in his arms would shatter. He took in a deep breath, buying time in an attempt to find a way to word this properly. "I'm just not used to this, used to us." Again, attempting to buy time to find a way to put his feelings into words, a hand slinked up to tangle his fingers into her hair. "But that doesn't mean I don't like us. It's..." He sucked in his lips, unsure of what to call it.

"Growing pains?" Her strained voice caught his ears, even if muffled against his shoulder. "Yeah, they're growing pains. And I'm not perfect... And no matter how in love I am with you, you're not perfect either. That's okay." Smaller arms slinked up his back, a small tug a weak return to the death grip he held her with. "I still love you too, Schlatt..." The way her face nuzzled into him made his heart melt and familiar butterflies fill his stomach, ones that had seemed to have gone missing for some time; and yet came back in full force. Dread at knowing of how poorly he spoke of her weighed in on him. "I'm willing to work on it if you are." He lessened his hold of her, pulling away to look down into her eyes.

Eyes that looked back up at him with the same kind of guilt he felt weighing his body down, those glass-like doe eyes tugging at strings of his heart he didn't even know he had. "I'm sorry too, I'm so sorry..." "Hey, we're both assholes, it's okay." The reassuring smile he flashed easing her own pressure, her own misconducts coming back to haunt her. Larger hands lovingly cupped her face as they had so many times before, wiping away those pesky tears for her. "I'm willing to go the distance with you." She assured, to answer his comment a short while earlier. The atmosphere of their home alleviated, and finally it felt breathable. "Let's unpack your suitcase then, and tomorrow morning we can talk more thoroughly about it." "Forget about the suitcase, we've been fighting all day. I just want to sleep."

With a grin that told her that everything would be okay, he slowly let his arms slide off her, one hand gently grabbing hold of hers in the lightest of holds. "Let's get some sleep then, sweetheart."

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tenaciouschronicler · 5 days

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April 25 2024 2009

Yesterday's updates were something.

First a new sound page! this one without a title/prompt. Its also our official title page.

I really went down a rabbit hole on this page specifically so more thoughts and breakdown for the update are below the cut.

The whole sequence is very smooth in its panning zoom to the sky and the following narration is just ... odd. It makes me inclined to say this is another character rather than Hussie just writing. Someone omniscient almost, speaking to us the reader but also to John even if he can't hear it.

The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox.

Its curious that theres no other sounds in the audio. Just winds and chimes. It should be a Monday based on the calendar from John's room which makes it Easter Monday. We dont know where John lives, but his school must make it a holiday since hes at home being stuffed with cake and so is his Dad, said baker. You would think there would be other dads doing yard work or some kids playing outside but there's no indication of either.

A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.

Familiar to whom? And in what way?

Google says Desolation is "a state of complete emptiness or destruction". So is the wind equal to Desolation? I feel like we dont actually hear the note per say. Our narrator only likens the sound to something we could probably comprehend. In reality, the wind over the void space is Desolations note.

It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life.

A nice callback to the first page of the comic but also more references to lacking and emptiness. Although a funny gag, the first page also says John is only getting his nane Today. Logically we know that's false. TT uses his name in their convo on persterchum. So what does that mean? Has he only been alive but not actually living?

The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack. His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket.

Has Desolation been keeping John from living? Why?? What would it gain from that?

His riddle is Absence itself. It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well. It is the most diabolical riddle of all.

Googling Absence gives us "the state of being away from a place or person". So his riddle is a state of being away from others... I feel like the following statement gives more but I cant discern what.

"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." -Walt Whitman

Yes, you are certain Walt Whitman said that. One hundred percent positive.

We get another quote that is certainly not Walt Whitmans. I'm curious if the mis-attributions are John legit not knowing, which would be strange knowing the quote but not the speaker, or the narrator fucking with John. I like to believe the latter.

Our actual guy is François de La Rochefoucauld, a French moralist with two works published of which this quote is from Maximes. I kinda want to make posts of each wrong quote and author after reading more about what the book is about. For now I think this is good enough.

You have a feeling it's going to be a long day.

The last actual time we saw was 4:26 pm. If we wanna take a guess saying we 'started' at 4:00 pm and guessing based of the times we have been shown, its been no more than 45 min. So yeah, I think its gonna be long indeed.

Two pages later we once again 180 back.

With the previous stuff Im now suspicious of these shift changes. (I could also juat be reading way too into it but *shrug*)

We continue to search for the elusive SBURB and find a package in Dads car. Gandering into the kitchen FULL of steam (is your Dad/the oven ok?) we spot another package and potentially the game?! There's no avoiding your Dad John. Get in the kitchen John.

#homestuck #homestuck replay #hsrp liveblog

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ficnation · 1 year

Text

Popcorn - Thor x Reader

Prompt: Popcorn

Word count: 861

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Female! Reader

Warnings: fluffy fluff, cursing

A/n: This is the short Marvel piece I’ve wrote for @the-slumberparty one-word warm-up :D

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

You’ve had a bad day at work, probably the worst one ever. The company you worked for was having trouble with its budget, and the task of fixing it fell onto you, which was really frustrating. It made your job so much harder and tedious. You almost considered quitting. Almost. Because the pay was way too good to give up on so quickly.

So when you came home that evening, you sighed deeply and kicked the door shut. You were tired as fuck. That much was clear. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about everything. Forget the large numbers displayed on the hundreds of sheets of paper on your desk, and definitely forget how your boss scoffed at you for “working too slow.”

To your surprise, your apartment smelled like burnt popcorn, and then you remembered you didn’t live alone. You paused by the entryway and peered through the darkened living room into the kitchen. There you spotted a certain someone sitting hunched over the countertop, a bowl of almost black popcorn in front of him. The view was nearly comical.

“Almost burned the house down?” you asked, amused, crossing your arms over your chest. It would not be the first time.

Thor looked up, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he mumbled around his mouthful of popcorn.

You raised your brow at him. There was no way that tasted good. You knew that you were right when he grimaced and swallowed noticeably. The view made you snort. Then he turned toward you and smiled again, looking very handsome and boyish in his casual, Midgard attire. He wore loose jeans and a cozy hoodie that he seemed to never part from. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing his bearded face. The urge to tuck the luscious blonde locks behind his ear was irresistible.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. It doesn’t taste like yesterday,” Thor told you as he walked out from behind the counter. He took the popcorn bowl and tossed its content into the trash bin, mourning his failure. “I seem to attract more fire lately.”

You followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the countertop while he continued to rummage through the kitchen for food. “Oh yeah? What else have you burnt today?” you teased. All of the exhaustion disappeared from your body and mind in his presence. Just for a second, you let yourself feel carefree.

Your words seemed to make him nervous. He chuckled awkwardly before turning around and flashing you a charming smile, forgetting about the food for good. “Nothing important.”

You raised your brows, skeptical. Detecting Thor’s lies was something even a child would excel at. “Liar,” you accused with a playful scoff.

He gave you another weak smile before walking up to you and looking you up and down. Before you could register his intentions, he wrapped his arm around your waist and placed one hand on your hip, pulling you closer to him. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“You look tired, love,” he murmured into your hair, kissing your temple softly. He kissed your cheek, too, then nuzzled against your neck, breathing warm air across it. You hummed softly in response. He was great at distracting you; you had to give him that. “I am sorry I’ve burnt it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Thor. I should’ve taught you how to use the microwave a long time ago,” you murmured back, trying to keep yourself from squirming underneath his touch. His hands were strong and much bigger than yours. And god, they felt so warm even through the barrier that your shirt was. “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

The Norse god grinned and nodded, pressing an affectionate kiss to your lips. It lasted only a few seconds, but it still made your cheeks warm up.

“Yes, my lady,” he agreed.

When you reached your bedroom, you immediately collapsed face down onto your bed, not bothering to take off your shoes or jacket. However, Thor felt an obligation to make you as comfortable as was physically possible.

He leaned over the bed, lifting one of your legs after the other, sliding your heels off, and leaving a soft kiss on top of each foot. You giggled quietly, feeling ticklish. It made Thor beam at you. Your laughter was his favorite sound in the entire universe. He got your jacket off, too, hanging it on the nearby chair and letting you undress the rest of the way.

You felt Thor join you within seconds, burrowing his warm body into your side and curling against you. He held you tightly and pressed his face into your shoulder, sighing contently. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy it, relaxing completely after the stressful day.

“Thor, don’t you ever burn my house down,” you mumbled into the pillow, squinting at him.

Thor burst into a booming laugh, making you smile. “No need to fret, my sweet one. The popcorn flame will not consume this house again.”

You sighed in relief before your eyes shot open in realization. “Again?!”

@humanmistakes @yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff

#thor odinson x reader #thor odinson #marvel #marvel x reader #thor x reader #thor x you #thor odinson x you #marvel x you #fluff #marvel fluff #thor fic #marvel fic #the slumber party #navy and roo's sleepover

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eirian · 4 months

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did a little introspection today and realized that--and this is probably not surprising to any of yall--i may have serious fomo issues when it comes to creating stories/projects/art in general.

some of my stories are genuinely stories i want to create! mirrors being one of them, one way dream being another. but others, it feels like i only created them bc i saw other ppl making similar things and i wanted in on the fun. which i guess isnt...COMPLETELY a bad thing, but i think for me it does get to an unhealthy place, because i work my brain really really hard to come up with something that both me and others will enjoy, but mostly others, and it strains me.

i think i was spoiled with doppelganger being my first public comic/story. every page i posted got hundreds, sometimes thousands, of notes, and every one had lots of comments/replies/tags in the reblogs. it made me feel so happy that people were receiving my story so well and loving it!

i guess it just bums me out that my other stories--namely mirrors specifically--dont get nearly as much love. and i know i know, i should be doing it for my own sake, for my own enjoyment! but you gotta understand how it feels to go from having everyone obsess and fawn over your fanart comic and then have radio silence on your original work. i put a lot of passion into dpg, i did. but i have even more love and passion for my original characters and stories. so i guess it does really bum me out that my more original stuff doesnt get received even a fraction as well as doppelganger did.

i know this isnt an experience unique to me. but man does it suck u_u

at this point i cant tell if some of my stories are genuine interests of mine that i want to go through with or if theyre situations where i saw someone else doing something and wanted to do it too because i didnt want to be left out. i know for a fact that blessed is the latter, and maybe legend is too. i know this new furry story im tryna make is the latter as well. pretty accident is somewhere in the middle i think, and villain + school and mirrors are very genuine thankfully..

i mentioned "art in general" and that relates to fanart. sometimes i just draw things bc i feel like others will like them but it doesnt come from a place of 100% "i want to draw this for me". kind of relates to the comic/story situation.

man idk. feels bad. thats all.

#i thought eating a sandwich would help stop me from making this post but it did not. i feel bad

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jennilah · 2 months

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jenna gone got high and started rambling about nothing again

the amount of times ive drawn something that i thought i would be appealing or even only make sense to an audience of me and maybe 2 other people, only for it to get blown out of the water with response is shockingly often

like hoffman and strahm from the Saw franchise getting high together, yeah

but also my nonsense comics about Michael Myers from specifically the Thorn trilogy, the RZ remake, and the Green sequel hanging out like weird brothers

or every time I draw a weird AU like slashers as fish. or mini characters that live in the pockets of either someone else or the normal versions of themselves

any self indulgent crossover ive ever made like Jason hanging out with Godzilla and Mothra

and i do it for every fandom. if anyone remembers my old spn comics and AUs, some of those were off the wall cryptic and nonsensical. to the likes of which i havent come close to recreating

many of these get hundreds to thousands of notes/likes/whatever on various websites. so many people just see my nonsense and let me take their hand, no questions asked

thats it i just think its funny

jk im not done that reminds me,. the results of my dumb little poll came in where i asked what people sort of ideally want from me and im kind of surprised

i think i rambled this already but deleted it bc it felt too dumb but actually i dont think its dumb. i think its really interesting and relieving that people actually want my sketches and doodles and dumb things.

& yea i enjoy occasionally making a fully rendered piece but i mean. its not easy, and im never totally happy with the end result most of the time. but if im only posting sketches and doodles and sketchy doodly comics i feel bad like i feel like im just holding people over until the next piece where i actually put in effort.

but it turns out people are totally ok with stuff that i dont kick my own ass trying to polish. people arent settling for it, people voted- they want it.

and i dont know where this attitude against myself came from because i was never unhappy seeing sketches from artists i like

maybe its the part inside of me, which im pretty sure is inside every artist who has ever experienced self doubt, which makes me feel like i should be putting my best effort into everything. like, if i could only just muster up the courage to fully render some of these comics I do, then they would be even better...

but i wouldnt have as much fun. thats too much work, i get overwhelmed

so, they stay sketches. with varying degrees of refinement and shading.

so idk im glad ppl like them

anyway rambling done i think ive made my non-points

#jennilargh

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melonkittii · 1 year

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hello. im ready to make a thread of my initial thoughts

spoilers under the cut for the eleventh hour gn (obviously) (also its a pretty long post lol)

the opening sequence caught me fully off guard and i like it so much. pair it with the dramatic irony of them yelling at barry towards the end. juicy stuff. love it so much

my favourite running joke with lucretia is her introcard always having some veiled reference to The Events. one of her proficiencies being 'remembering the dead' certainly holds true

lucretia ^v^ face is real. look at her.

i noticed the running background joke of affirmative mugs that aren't actually all that affirmative. it was very funny. World's Sheriff

the ren and taako scene. i feel no need to elaborate

speaking of that though, the opening to magic lessons starts a running motif of taako being actively bad at fire evocation, despite telling everyone that he remembers being very good at it. i wonder if he had someone close who would do that for him instead

i like that taako actively cares abt the others' wellbeing, up to and including waiting for them to join conversations, etc. its noticeable that he pauses and waits for everyone to respond before he continues. he cares ok

ren <3<3<3<3<3<3<3

the lucretia monologue from merle's lunar interlude is, in my opinion, as an expert on Lucretia Moments (tm), one of the most fucked up things she ever says. and seeing it in the comic definitely made me feel a type of way. i love you lucretia. i want to shake you around so bad

correct me if im wrong but lucretia and merle laughing is the first time lucy's ever gotten silly in the comic right? they tend to cut her jokes in favour of playing her more seriously but it was so sweet and refreshing to see her being so comfortable. makes me so excited for the stolen century comic

extremely mad that the "shoulda leaned away" "I LEANED AWAY" joke was lost. but not as devastated as losing the skeleton DnD debate. they cut all of the best travis moments from the arc

changing their death count from like, 8? to well over a hundred was an interesting choice. i think it works well to convey the narrative stakes a little better since they cut the old-june interludes.

i dont know if this was intentional but starting the last loop on chapter 111, which is the exact amount of years that the stolen century and lonely decade span, made me insane. this may be just an innocuous choice though. who knows

losing redmond and luca makes sense definitely and i love more ren screentime but man the running bit of griffin attempting to foreshadow lup over and over again and noone ever getting it is so dear to me. edward and lydia are definitely a better set for that though. rip skeleton man

istus <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 i cried a little over her in my twitter live tweet. kissing the pages

[static noises] in taako's chalice sequence was fully expected and yet i still got blindsided by it somehow. i had to put the book down for a little while. it was the only panel that made me do that

cried a little at glamour springs too. he looks so sad :,(

the crying at taako's sequence certainly didnt prepare me for the emotional state i went into ravens roost in. magnus burnsides i am holding you. i am holding you. i am h

little june looks like istus and i think that is so incredibly good.

YELLED OUT LOUD WHEN THE RED RBE APPEARED. OBVIOUSLY. IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SCENE

i already mentioned the dramatic irony but what i love the mot abt this sequence is how like, stressed out barry looks. like he has no grip on this conversation whatsoever. it conveys his desperation really well considering how imposing he's (tried to) be in all other scenes

taako saying lup's name out loud after barry says it is profound to me because one thing that's always fucked me up in the podcast is that before he remembers he never once says it. its always "L-U-P". barry is the only one who remembers how to say her name. so seeing taako say it now was like. gut punch. ow

ignore the rest of this thread because taakitz date is real so who cares about anything else /j. i missed my man so bad. so happy to see him around

i KNEW the drawing would be the ending stinger and it STILL got me. FUCK the suffering game comic will be so good

#melonkittii #taz gn #taz gn spoilers #long post. im just compiling stuff from my twitter thread #people have probably said all this already but fuck man #loved this book. so excited to reread it

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warrior-u-preservation · 1 year

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Interview with The Path Podcast (Full written responses)

(Note: The interview itself will be different, since mod myne represented both mods on the podcast. However, this includes our full feelings on the questions that were provided to us.)

Who are you and how did you end up walking the path of a "warrior u" writer/comic creator?

Myne: I go by worldismyne for fandom related pursuits.

I'd like to clarify that Aisha Thani is the creator of Warrior U. Just like multiple people have written for Stan Lee's creations, I'm just a writer who's received permission from the creator to distribute and monetize works within her universe.

I've been in the WU fandom since 2014; at that time Aisha made the comic, ran an in character ask blog, a concept art blog and the main blog. I can only imagine how much work that was. A hard drive crash killed about 6 or so pages of Ambrosia, the last story arch she was working on; three weeks worth of updates up and gone. I watched writer’s block take hold and kill my favorite series in real time. Having to go back and redo work she’d already done had given her time to look at it and go ‘I can’t post this, this is awful’, but by then all of us were waiting for the next update for over a month, she couldn’t go back and rewrite the entire arch. It didn’t help that this was the origin story for a fan favorite character, so there was all this pressure to make it perfect. Instead, after about six artists made fan comics to feed the hungry fandom… she announced the end. The website, the blogs, one by one they all ran into issues and got shut down. Hundreds of pieces of art and story concepts just… lost. Once the comics were rereleased on gumroad, that was it, the fandom slowly died. Before this project, the last time the creator posted new content was in 2017. Then in the middle of the pandemic, out of nowhere I get 70+ notifications from Coffee reblogging the pieces of art I had saved from the old blog, including drafts from the unfinished issues.

Coffee: well, i go by coffee online, im 20 years old and when im not working on my various personal projects i work part-time. i was introduced to warrior u WAYY back in the day (i think i was like 9-ish?) by my brother who found out about it through some unknown and mysterious ways. back then i had very limited internet access (meaning i could only visit sites that could be loaded by the internet app on my nintendo dsi), so i pieced together a bit of a plot from what i could find on google images. i wasnt able to fully read the comic until i was 13 (i had to BEG my mom to pay for the pdfs lol), but it had kinda always existed in the back of my mind ever since i was introduced to it. i decided a little over a year ago to start out the tumblr blog because i had recently read through the comic again and was really sad about just how hard it is (or i guess WAS now) to find a lot of things related to the comic. as the name of the blog suggests, its original purpose was to preserve/archive warrior u stuff so it could be more accessable to your average internet user who might not wanna go digging through internet archives. it was originally for official content EXCLUSIVELY, but myne talked me into also including fan-made content (and im glad he did, its WAY harder to find some fan content than i remember it being just a few years ago). its kinda hard to tell how good of a job it does at BEING that archive, but i like to think it could be useful to someone out there.

i had toyed with the idea of finishing the last official story arc- ambrosia- near the beginning of the blogs lifespan, but i knew that it was too big of a project for me to do myself. i didnt wanna dissapoint people by leaving the ALREADY unfinished arc STILL unfinished. i had written in the "about" section of the blog that the dream was a full fandom revival, but i didnt actually expect that to happen. when myne joined the blog we eventually started playing with the idea of finishing ambro. i forget how exactly we officially decided we would do it, but we did! at some point near the beginning of ambro, we had also decided we were gonna write our own fan-arcs and post those too, and the rest is history!

What was it about warrior u that made you say "this is it. i need to make more content of this."

Coffee: honestly? i think it was just how much i enjoy introducing people to the comic. i already make tons of fan content on my own time, so that wasnt really the crazy part. i had shown a couple of my mutuals the comic after i re-read it, and the feeling of seeing other people actually talk about and even make ART of warrior u was absolutely surreal. i guess thats what happens when you just silently admire a dead fandom for years LMAO! another big part of it was HOW the comic ended. after taking a hiatus, the creator ended the comic mid-arc because creating it just wasnt enjoyable anymore, and thats obviously completely fair. however, the arc it ENDED on was elaborating on the backstory of one of (if not THE) most popular characters at the time (and my personal favorite), so i had always wished that the issue could have been finished. its kinda hard to put into words, but finishing ambrosia was like a love letter to the comic and its creator to me. as flawed as the plot of that arc may be (and as unsatisfied with it as the creator was, at least back then) i still felt like it deserved to be finished. it was like fixing an old toy from your childhood, i felt like we were taking care of the comic in a way, giving it the love it deserves. maybe thats just my tendency to personify objects and get overly attached to them coming through, but hey thats how it is sometimes LMAO

Myne: When the comic was still on hiatus after the harddrive crash, some people had asked Aisha if she wanted to hand the series over to other artists to help her. She said she wouldn’t even know where to begin that process or if she’d wanted to do it. I would have offered then, but my skills as an artist and a writer weren’t nearly as strong. I held onto the drafts thinking, one day I’d do it.

Myne: After Coffee and I started talking I realized, I can do it now. I know what kind of style of pens were used, and I whipped up a page, just the line art and sent to Coffee as a thank you. I thought, it isn’t much, and it’ll take me forever to color everything, but if there’s one person willing to read it, I’ll try. When I explained how difficult it’d be for me to color, he offered to do it for me. Suddenly a page that would take a month for just me to do on my own took 3 days.

Myne: Something, that seemed like a monumental task became a realistic goal. We were able to find, restore, and edit 45 pages within a few months. I’m still amazed we were able to do weekly updates without missing a day. Coffee asked if I’d ever be willing to write fan issues while we were working, not realizing I was the author of the longest fics in the series. Of course I said yes. Seeing Warrior U get finished, even through fan creation, was something I’d wanted to see for years.

You're from Az right, how is the webcomic weeb culture over there as opposed to california?

Myne: Idk about much about Cali, I've noticed the cons are more... professional? Where as Arizona cons have more of a fanclub vibe. Most panels are hosted by your fellow nerds rather than sony or production companies. I will say, that it's become more common and widespread in the last ten years, with multiple anime specific events year round. Back when I was a kid, I'd get made fun of for drawing 'japanese' people all the time.... it was pokemon fanart... Where as nowadays, I feel the average kid recognizes most big name titles thanks to hulu and such.

What are your favorite anime/manga/webcomics and do any inspire your work?

Coffee: not really an anime, manga, or webcomic, but ive always been super inspired by the "scott pilgrim" series. when i was in middle school i was SUPER into it, reading all the behind the scenes stuff i could find. it even made me look into "comic illustrator" as a career option, but i also did the same thing with "game designer" and "animator" so yknow. as for webcomics, the only one i ever really got into was homestuck. side note- the overlap of oldschool homestuck fans and warrior u fans is FASCINATING to me. my current theory is that all these tumblr kids were looking for other webcomics to read while homestuck was on one of its MANY hiatuses(?) and so a bunch of them flocked to warrior u! theres tons of homestuck crossover content and references in fan art on our blog (some of the art styles also look homestuck-ajacent) so its at least clear that a lot of fans back then were also really into homestuck. ANYWAYS other than that i havent really read many other webcomics tbh? weird considering i MAKE one now but what can i say, im more of a Gamer than anything lol. as for anime, my favorite is easily keroro gunso (or sgt. frog if youre using the dub name)! its another thing i discovered when i was young (this time i was like 8) and have just never gotten over. theres a lot of Questionable stuff in it (prime example is an adult alien being madly in love with a 14 year old girl) but if i dont look at canon its not real so i love it anyways <3.i honestly dont know how many people really know about it since the western fanbase is so small, but its like HUGE in japan (or at least it was at one point, the titular keroro has a cameo in lucky star as a keychian) and the manga is still running to this day iirc. it was created by mine yoshizaki and the basic premise is that a platoon of frog-like aliens come to earth to take it over but they really suck at it. they begin living with humans and from there its kind of a mix between a slice-of-life and monster-of-the-week anime. i cant really say anything in depth about the manga because ive only read the first 5 issues of it, which are basically the same as the anime (fake fan smh), but ive heard that it gets more mature and serious than the anime does (which i guess is bound to happen when it goes on for so long). also the manga has some ecchi moments and blood used for slapstick purposes so if anyone wants to check it out just keep that in mind lol.

Myne: Obviously Warrior U. I'm a bit of a visual novel fiend, so Danganronpa is a series I've found a lot of inspiration from over the years. More recently Though for the comic, I draw mostly from late 80s / early 90s high fantasy. Things like Labyrinth and Robinhood: Men in Tights. Honestly anytime I get stuck trying to come up with a gag, I look to Mel Brooks.

So in continuing someone else's work, do you feel a sense of pressure to be just as good as the original?

Coffee: i definitely felt that way when it came to ambrosia, but i feel a lot less pressure when it comes to our upcoming issues. i wrote and made thumbnails for a few small scenes in ambro and i was SO SCARED of those scenes being noticably worse than the rest of the issue. i know the original creator has seen our version of ambro and those scenes by extention, but i dont know her exact thoughts on them. im satisfied with them but theres probably always gonna be that kinda star-struck stage feeling at the thought of the creator reading the scenes i wrote. its like getting stage fright. for our upcoming issues i dont feel as much pressure because theyre fully fan-written. our comics arent official in any sense of the word and theyre basically just fanfiction with extra steps, so its not nearly as stressful as trying to tie together an "official" story. there definitely WOULD be that pressure if we were ever given the rights to warrior u or something (which i dont want to happen) because then it WOULD be official yknow? also if the creator decides to keep up with what we post ill feel a bit more pressure, but i get the feeling that she wants to distance herself from warrior u a bit so im not sure how likely that would be.

Myne: I do. Partially because, the fan content we’re making is completely free while the original series is purchasable on gumroad. So there’s a chance that some people may start with what we’re working on, then go backwards to the original. I'm hyper aware of the tonal shift that's about to happen, no matter how much I try, I can't perfectly emulate someone else's writing style. The best I can do is capture the spirit of it. I just keep repeating "it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be". It's a little harder taking that advice now that it's my scripts we're turning into issues. There is some freedom in knowing the series was never meant to be perfect though.

What drove you to writing the longest fanfiction for the series and how did it feel to be recognized and promoted by the original creator?

Myne: When I was younger, I would write fanfic instead of paying attention in class, and I really wanted a full story about the leads getting together. Knowing that the creator was reading every fanfic at the time added more fuel to the fire. I had a guaranteed audience, the audience. I was so grateful that she recommended it to other fans. That fic was 25k, I've written about 100 K in the last year to help maintain interest in addition to new pages to the comic. To that I blame hyperfixation and hiatus brain. You have to be the biggest fan of the thing you're making.

So i see the that most of your work including the webcomic Warrior U is on tumblr why did u choose to promote om tumblr as opposed to other webcomic outlets like webtoons, mangadex etc?

Coffee: the answer to this one is actually pretty simple; i already had a warrior u blog and tumblr is the social media/blogging site that im most familiar with! we have recently started using comicfury and tapas, but that was entirely mynes idea. im personally pretty content with just hanging out in my little corner of the internet so any attempts to expand or get the word out is mostly (if not entirely) mynes doing LOL!

Myne: It's interesting you bring up those two actually. Webtoons recently come under fire for being pretty crummy to it's indie comics, particularly if you write in any genre other than romance. Mangadex is a pirating website, so most of the comics there are fan translations rather than uploads from the creators : they had a pretty bad data breach a few years back too. At first we only had permission from the creator to upload on tumblr. Once we got permission to move forward with the fanmade run, we branched out to tapas and comicfury. They seemed like the best options for the genre and style we write in. Even still, we see about double the growth in readership on tumblr as opposed to the other outlets, and I think that's mostly because the blog updates daily, even though we only publish one page a week.

Do you have any plans on creating your own webcomic/manga?

Coffee: yes and no. i sometimes draw small fan comics and id like to make more polished and "finished" ones in the future, but nothing with any kind of overarching plot, at least not in the near future. i have a very hard time making original content for whatever reason. i DO have one (1) personal project that is completely original, but i plan on making a game with that. then again i have NO idea what im doing with that project anymore so who knows, maybe one day i WILL decide to turn it into a comic! only time will tell…

Myne: I have a visual novel I'm working on. It's about teen super villains that have to go to reform school. Think teen titans meets gifted kid burnout. The game's been in development hell since our first alpha build and writing about apocalyptic civil unrest wasn't as fun as it was pre 2020. We're about 200k into the draft for the full game and we're having to switch engines, which means cutting a bunch of features, but we're slowly getting there. If that fails, I'll try adapting the story into a comic.

To those people who will see this and decide to strut down the path of comic creation what is some advice you can give them?

Coffee: i think the most HELPFUL advice i could give would be this: you dont have to do everything by yourself. i personally have taken tons of inspiration from indie artists/game designers/etc. some prime examples of this are daisuke amaya aka pixel (who created cave story) and toby fox (who created undertale and deltarune), who both made incredible pieces of art that were defining to me as a person when i discovered them either entirely alone or almost entirely alone. you hear stories all the time of these great pieces of art being made by one or two people, and ive always wanted to be like that. as a result ive alwasy had a hard time reaching out for help when it comes to my art, feeling like if i cant do it all alone that itll never be as good as it could be. as a result though, all this mindset does is keep things from actually getting done and needlessly stress you out. NONE of the warrior u comics would exist if i had never gotten help from myne, and the blog would have probably gone inactive a LONG time ago too. i think thats the biggest lesson ive learned from this whole thing personally. theres absolutely no shame in working with a team of people if thats what needs to happen to see a project be realized.

Myne: One, try not to put more than 8 panels on a page, that's helped me a bunch with page layout. And two, find someone you can show your work to. That can be a friend, a mutual online, a family member; as long as you have that one person asking "what happens next" you can keep writing. The stories/comics I have that are the longest are because of that.

What inspires your art and what would u say you consider your style to be?

Myne: Invader Zim, Danganronpa, and Pacthesis have heavily influenced my art style. (pacthesis made a series of free dating sims on deviant art). I've always considered my art style to be pretty shoujo manga, but lately some of my pieces have been labeled too western for weeb spaces.

What advise can you give the next person who wants to draw art and share it with the world?

Coffee: i give the same advice to everyone i meet that says theyre thinking of making art in any form, and i mean it from the bottom of my heart: DO IT! im so in love with art of all kinds and the process of creating it, and i think that getting into any creative hobby is nothing but a good thing and i deeply believe that everyone should do it. whether you wanna draw, write, make music, develop games, sculpt, knit, etc, do it! quality doesnt matter at all, you can make the most technically awful thing in the world but as long as you enjoyed the process of creating it then it still has value. dont be nervous about your art being good enough. if you dont want to share it then you arent obligated to! i dont share like 90% of the stuff that i make but i still create art almost every single day! recently my qpp (queerplatonic partner) has gotten into drawing and im SO happy for them. they primarily use mspaint and a mouse to draw and their art is SO adorable and i love it so much, and im not just saying that because i love them. it doesnt matter what skill level you start at or what tools you have, you can always start making art. and dont compare the art that you make to others art, which i know from experience is a VERY easy trap to fall into. i dont have as much to say about that point because im not as passionate about it but uhhh yeah :3

Myne: Social media algorithms are not going to make you happy; no matter how well you play the game and low engagement does not mean you're a bad artist. If you keep posting and talking to other artists, you'll find your audience.

So at wonder con where we met ylu were cosplaying power from chainsaw man with a group of girls who were cosplaying other chainsaw characters. Do you girls normally group up and cosplay and if so how did you get into it?

Myne: I was born into cosplay. My parents were gamers and cosplayers, and I started picking my own characters to cosplay when I was 14. I started getting more into it in college when I could find other people to cosplay with, it wasn't until this year I started aiming for photoshoots. I tend to be in at least one large group cosplay a con, and bring a different costume every day.

What was your favorite cosplay you've done?

Myne: It's a toss up between Persona 5 Joker and Alluring Secret Rin. Those were the ones I put the most work in that still hold up. Though I'm currently working on Eris from the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and that may overtake them.

Have you ever thought to cosplay someone from Warrior U?

Myne: I do actually! I've cosplayed as the main character Finn a few times. I really like taking simplified designs from comics/cartoons and turning them into heavily detailed looks. '

Where do you see warrior u being in 5 years from now?

Coffee: man, honestly if were STILL working on this project 5 years from now that would be CRAZY. this is already the longest ive worked on a single project before, along with being the most ive ever gotten DONE for a project, so thinking about what it could be like in 5 years is like. WOW. by that point we would have archived most (if not ALL) of the older stuff we could find, so our blog would probably just be new pages and fan interaction if were still going! the dream is still for a full fandom revival, and weve already got a small active fanbase (of like 5 people but still) so who knows, maybe that dream will be a reality?

Myne: We have at least 3 years worth of story drafted and lined up, and even more outlined. So ideally still updating. By then, we'll have some physical releases of the finished arcs that we've written available for purchase online and at select events. The creator has said she has no interest in making physical releases of the original run. I'd love for that to change, but I respect her decision and I won't press the matter. I'm just grateful we have permission to sell anything we make using her characters.

If you could go back in time 5 years, what advice would you give yourself?

Coffee: 15 and 16 were ROUGH ages for me tbh. i wont get into it because its super personal, but i was struggling with a lot and just generally not having a very good time. i think the best advice i could give to myself would just be that like. things will eventually get better. no matter how dark or hopeless things may be, theres always a silver lining and a light at the end of the tunnel. now if 15 year old me would have taken that to heart is a whole DIFFERENT question, but thats what i would say. 16 was like right before i (finally) started getting treatment for my mental health, so i think considering everything thats what i would say.

Myne: So many bad things happened during those five years, but… I wish I knew what burnout felt like, so I could recognize it. I have this tendency to put my self worth into “how much have you done today”, so once I started working full time and my father passed, I couldn’t recognize that I was physically and emotionally exhausted some days and needed rest, so I’d just punish myself mentally for not being more motivated. You shouldn’t need permission to rest, and I felt like I had to. It’s healthy to ‘nothing’ sometimes, especially if you’re dealing with things you have no control over.

Coffee: thank you for interviewing myne and i for your podcast :D!! its absolutely wild to think that ive done anything interview-worthy and yet here we are! for anyone thats interested in the comic because of this, i also emplore you to go check out the creators current comic "si3lah" (pronounced like si-ayn-lah i think? the 3 is a stand-in for an arabic letter) on gumroad! it deserves way more attention than it currently has and you should 100% go support the original creator if you like the stuff we do (wink wink).

#mod speak #interview #official

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telltalebatman · 1 year

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♔ for... hmm...... either frankie/mac or bee/igni?

im gonna go w/ frankie n mac bc tbh i am not sure if i am ready to take on bee and igni again after what went down between me and the dm : ( this isn't a jab at u btw <3

♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes

"Huh," Mac said to her from behind her back, the sudden sound of his voice prompting her to jump up. "Interesting." "WHAT?!" she barked out in panic, playing with her hair anxiously as he stared her up and down, his eyebrows raising slowly as he took in her clothes. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you're working late tonight."

In response Mac shrugged - a gesture she had seen him do hundreds, if not thousands of times before - and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Becky's kid got sick," he said; and Frankie had to fight off an angry scowl at the sound of Mac's customer's name. He had been her trainer for around three months; and during that time, Rebecca had not stopped hitting on him for even a single moment. "But enough about me. What the hell are you wearing?" he asked; and she let out a pained sigh as the realization of her secret being out finally hit her. "Your shirt," she said reluctantly, looking away in embarrassment. "Go on. Laugh it up."

But instead of laughing, Mac simply shook his head with a sigh.

"I knew there's a reason why it smells like you," he said softly as she began anxiously playing with the hem of his large, cozy, t-shirt with a Batman print on it. When they were at a comic store a couple of months prior, he had asked her - multiple times - if she's sure she doesn't want it; it was the last one left, and the print was inspired by the classic Batman comic The Long Halloween. Impulsively, she refused; so he bought it for himself - but ever since, she'd wear it in secret from time to time, as truth be told, she really regretted not getting it for herself when she still had a chance. It was a nice, high quality shirt; she liked it. She liked it a lot. But now, the jig was up - and she had no doubt about him not being happy about it. After all, he did grow up at an orphanage, where the kids had to share stuff; only as an adult was he finally able to simply own things - and there she was. Stealing.

"You sly little weasel," he said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Alright. You can keep it," he added with a yawn; and Frankie blinked in surprise. "What?" "Uhm, aren't you... Mad?" she asked hesitantly; and Mac shook his head with a chuckle. "Babygirl, I can't be mad at you," he said; and inside her, something warm lit up at the sound of him calling her that. "Not over a fucking shirt at least. You can keep it... As long as you give me a backrub," he added, cracking his neck a little; she nodded silently.

In the end, nothing happened. It was just like he said - it was just a shirt.

(But she did make extra sure to really knead his back this time. As it turns out, after years of kneading dough, she was excellent at kneading people as well; and according to Mac, he really liked being her stress ball.)

"Mackie," she said eventually. "You there?" "Mmmm?" he muttered out in response, his cheek pressed into a pillow. "Barely. What's up?" "You wear it too," she said as she worked a particularly stubborn knot in-between his shoulder blades. "I like it when my clothes smell of you." "That's a deal," he muttered out again with a yawn. "The feeling's mutual, by the way."

In response, she only cracked a smile; and life went on.

#4.txt #sorcione

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pt-disconnected · 2 years

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Honestly this is such a good continuation of pt before i found this i was worried i would fall out of the fandom before chapter 3 4 5 came out but since this is shaping up to (hopefully) be on for a long time im sticking into this fandom for the long hall also can i make a tv tropes page?

Honestly the fact that you enjoy this story alone is a positive for me. I’m surprised that so many people are enjoying it, really. My expectation when I started this was that maybe a couple dozen would read it as a sort of way to remove the pain of the cliffhanger ending (since even now Lynx is getting asked about that… oof). I would have figured that other people would have their own at this point (which would have been fine by me really!) but this is still the only thing of this sort… and to my surprise there’s over a hundred people following the blog, which shows that I certainly underestimated the results.

As usual, anyone who wants to contribute to either this story or make their own can do just that, and I’d be happy to see it. This blog revolves around the fact that we’re making our own ending. I’m just sharing my idea. (And time travel was kinda thrown in when I realized Kris’ last SAVE from Paper Trail was back in Lairse’s world at the crossroads. So I decided to talk with Lynx to confirm how time travel worked in their DOFP comic, and use the concepts there- after all, if I’m continuing Lynx’s comic I should use the same mechanics as Lynx’s comics. (And The GIF is keeping things in line with how it once was too! I want to stay as faithful as I can with the original!)

The only reason I make this in writing and not a comic is because my art is not the best, and takes ages. I doubt this blog would be as popular if I used a comic, haha. I’m really good with writing compared to my art skills, though- so I use that instead. Plus it means I can possibly make two parts in a day if I get really motivated! So… yeah, in my case, writing works a lot better. It even reinforces the ‘make your own’ portion by leaving it all up to the reader’s imagination- your mind is what decides the Player’s appearance.

As for you wanting to make a TV Tropes page for this, go ahead. I don't mind at all!

Again, sorry for completely forgetting this ask in my drafts- I feel really bad about this and I will ensure this doesn't happen twice. (...Well, thrice, since it technically did happen twice... you get my point...)

#undertale #deltarune #paper trail #pt-disconnected #anon asks

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chasingfictions · 2 years

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ats is better than btvs dont let the fact that im posting this on april 1st give u any wrong ideas i am one hundred percent serious about this

FIRST OF ALL who needs stories about women and queerness when you can have stories about big men saving tiny women except sometimes he doesnt successfully save tiny woman and then he has to be sad about it :(((((((((((

SECOND OF ALL btvs wastes all this time developing its women characters' arcs based on who they are as independent people and their psyches when it would have been way more efficient to just build their story arcs out of how they fit into the lives of the men around them. it just saves time. and isnt that what you want from a story? to just get in and out as soon as possible?

THIRD OF ALL it's insane to me that btvs doesnt even find time for One mystical pregnancy plotline??? it's just such an obvious fantasy show trope and it feels like they dont even respect the genre to not include it, like ats does it ??? what? 5 times? 6? which is a sign of what a mature show it is, that it keeps revisiting this theme to give it new layers of meaning (about how women should be punished for existing. obviously).

FOURTH OF ALL ats just improves on all btvs characters who cross over. first of all, putting faith in prison? where she Belongs??? was a brilliant point. btvs as a show is far too loose and radical with the law. ats makes a firm stand that crime is crime and should be punished ideally with well-funded and cruel judicial systems. and buffy? i know she's barely on the show but i think her two brief windows on ats are better than all of her portrayals on all of btvs. like, buffy is just so much more interesting to me as a symbolic representation of angel's angst than she is on her own terms, and i think ats really understands that. not to mention how much better spike is on ats. he can really get back to his roots as a comic relief character. which is such a better use for him than trying to make him a romantic lead. i mean spike?? a romantic lead??????? insane and yet another reason btvs doesnt have rights.

FIFTH OF ALL it just has such complex plotting. btvs would never have the guts to do a full memory wipe of an entire person from the other characters' minds as it enters its final season and then never really touch on what that means for them or how it's affected their relationships with each other. like, btvs was way heavy-handed foreshadowing dawn's existence and then spending all this unnecessary time in s5 working through how dawn's existence impacts buffy's psyche. ats doing a much more understated approach of hardly ever mentioning connor at all in s5 or considering how his absence would impact things is a way more mature form of storytelling :))) like, it's show don't tell. that's writing school day one.

SIXTH OF ALL i just think btvs is really reverse-misogynist at a certain point. it's like, by the time we get to the late seasons there's basically no men on the cast? ats really balances that out and makes sure we're getting men's perspectives in storytelling :) which is something really lacking from media :) that plus all the time they spend on a gay relationship when it's like,, why do we have to make a whole thing about how willow and tara are gay? isnt that reducing them to their queerness??? isnt it actually far more progressive to work like ats, and kind of vaguely imply lorne is gay with the everything about him but never actually say so and blatantly contradict it in dialogue? just to keep 'em guessing, you know. the last thing you want is for a show to be obvious

my only gripe with ats is that they bother building up side characters when it should be much more focused on angel himself. like literally who cares about characters like fred or gunn or lorne or lilah? i think it would have been a much tighter show if they had just focused on classically grizzled and complex male protagonists like angel and wesley and lindsey. none of them got nearly enough screentime or attention paid to their development. i mean thank god they killed off cordy and fred by mystical pregnancy and stopped paying attention to gunn and lorne's characters in ways that made sense and wrote lilah off to be replaced with a discount lilah who didnt matter for the final season? so we could really spend time with the characters who matter? but like, they could have done that way sooner

#SERIOUS POST THAT I AM SERIOUS ABOUT #:)

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toxooz · 2 years

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Hi Taxooz! I’m a huge fan of Wheel-Bitten!

I adore the lore you gave for angels, but I have a question what’s the deal with demons? We’ve already seen one example from the store owner in your comic (I’m sorry I forgot his name), but how do they function in your world’s society? From what I can gather via the dialogue, it sounds like demons live on the fringe of society. Also, is there a difference between fallen angels and demons, or are they the same but with different names?

hmhm gOOD QUESTION i think since Real Angels™ are strictly up in heaven and don't go into the world physically thus not really having any opportunity to turn into a fallen angel ~anymore~ . The only time fallen angels were "fallen angels" is when, assuming in the whole biblical theories n shit, when lucifer got kicked out all the other angels that followed him got kicked out as well thus making them the fallen angels. Since this was like before all time n all that, my theory is it's similar to the whole evolution thing where the fallen angels evolved throughout time and now they're basically all demony now for example the fallen angels are to all the demons now as the pakicetus is to the current whale and all its variations currently- where hell/world is the ocean in this scenario lmfao:

Like the fallen angels possibly adapted to the separate layers of hell and the conditions of them AND since they can go on the world they possibly adapted to the locations they were in on the earth as well. Plus since the pakicetus didnt Just evolve to be like the whale currently and there’s other types of animals around from evolving differently same goes for the demons hence why they can look so different (also with having other species mixed in since like half of these are half demon):

SO that being said fallen angels are probably all dead by now and all that is mostly around are just different formed demons WHICH by the way i think that demons can have different life spans depending on what kind of demons they are. The store owner Dante (im still debating on that name solely for the store name pun) probably lived for hundreds of years hence this comment that was quite literal:

Ramsuse is cursed to live for eternity and i think Cinder is too since he’s been around for 100s of years as well, but Mangule and Ollie may live the typical 90-100 years or maybe a little longer or who knows maybe even shorter and hell there’s probably some demons that only live for like a week or so so yeah their lifespans are all over the place depending on what kind of demon and if they’re half demon what other genes they have in them 🤔

As far as functioning in society goes i think they’re kinda just like any other monster??? Dante could’ve taken 300 years to establish a good store bc he’s Just A Humble Store Owner or there could’ve been societal issues that contributed to his store not getting bigger by now since when Ramsuse got turned into a demon back in the yeehaw tingy tang cowboy days he was completely outcast and his wife was even deemed insane for trying to tell people her husband got turned into a Horrible Monster sO there were ofc some issues back then but overall today they’re just like everyone else i mean Ollie won the world skateboarding championship and lives in some suburban neighborhood pissing off all the soccer moms (probably deliberately) with all his gothery so yeah it just depends bUT yeah thats my Wacky theory about how demons work in my universe it may be Omg thats not how any of this works have u even picked up a book in uR LIFE??? but hey i pulled half of it out of my ass admittedly and it seems to work for me so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ THX 4 THE ASK!!

#ollie #ramsuse #mangule #cinder #im sure theres some very important theory or text that makes this Comepletely wrong but OH WELL #long post #oc facts

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jangofctts · 3 years

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Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

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orphicrose · 2 years

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𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝙰𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜// 𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝙰𝚞

𝙰𝙽- sorry theres less for Ekko and Vander I didn’t have as many for them ^^

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜 - Mylo, Clagger, Powder, Vi, Vander and Ekko!

꧁--------------------------------------------------꧂

Mylo

He’s definitely that one kid in school that always has his headphones in or is starting unnecessary trouble

Constant detentions for late homework, gluing the teachers to chairs and fighting but never turns up to them.

Usually only gets into fist fights over something “moral”. Like standing up for his friends.

Refuses to join any after school clubs

“I have better stuff to spend my time on”

Those better things consist of playing video games or drawing a character he made up.

Thriving in maths, music, art and PE

Failing horribly In science

Probably has a pet lizard

Or a spider

His room is only clean because Vander will ground him if not

Falls asleep constantly in class

100% a Rick and morty fan

Sleeps in an oversized Rick and morty shirt

Collects dream catchers

Cried when Arthur died in rdr2

Probably lives in cargo shorts or baggy clothes

Loves Halloween

Overall a menace to society, more so than he is in zaun

Avoids relationships at school. He says it’s a waste of time but In reality he is just terrified of messing it up.

Got made fun of for his hair, so he started putting it a man bun

Really interested in history but not good at it.

Went through a massive fnaf phase and still isn’t completely over it

Clagger

Thriving in every subject, other than art and PE

Gets money out of tutoring others

Tries to help powder and mylo in subjects they aren’t doing great in

Cleanest room in the house

Lives in hoodies and flannels.

Has pictures and articles of space stuff all over his walls

Followed by a professional telescope kept tidy in the corner of his room.

The main one who gets bullied at school and the main one Mylo sticks up for.

Always looking for his glasses. A l w a y s

Usually the one to clean up Powders room

Does extra maths after school… for fun…

Massive Marvel fan

Definitely has an innocent crush on black widow

Also loves comics

He wants to draw but he just can’t get the hang of it. So he dropped art

Imagines himself being an astronomer or chef one day

Strangely good with cars

As soon as Vander introduced him to star wars he got hooked

Him and mylo bond over it

Has Lego figured of darth vaders headgear

Powder

Doing well in school but not classed as one of the good kids

Always playing pranks on teachers

Regularly scolded by Vi for stealing the teachers stuff

Very good at cross country

Does a lot of sports

Adored by her art teacher

Her best friend is definitely ekko

Anime lover

Has Disney princess bed sheets for sure

Followed by hundreds of old princess dresses in her wardrobe from when she was younger

Obsessed with bath bombs

Massive sweet tooth and Vander limits the amount of fizzy drinks she’s allowed

Always sneaks to the shop after school to get a coke

Does gymnastics and competes

You can imagine the whole gang will be there cheering her on

Im sorry but she would definitely went through a roblox/gatcha kid phase 😭

She’d also hate herself for it

She’s the ‘popular’ girl in her year but only because she’s brave enough to mess with the teachers. And because everyone knows she’s related to mylo and vi.

Mainly gets picked on my older kids, who vi ends up beating the living shite out of.

Definitely in a boxing club

Stoner!!!!

Frequently gives herself stick n pokes

Pierced her own ears

Loves artists like p!nk, lady gaga, Amy winehouse, Radiohead and Lana del ray and has posters of them.

Would also like the occasional punk rock

Gives of massive Chloe vibes from life is strange

She is an average student in school, not caring too much about her grades but still passing.

Spends her free time working out, skating, helping Vander, playing minecraft with powder or out doing something sketchy.

Doesn’t quite understand minecraft but tries to play anyway.

“Everythings a cube?”

“Yeah vi… that’s kinda the whole point”

The first to get their drivers licence out of all the kids

Gets a motorbike instead of a car

She’s usually the one to shove mylo in lockers at school

Gets the most phone calls home too if you Couldnt already guess

Gets asked out by thousands of guys till everyone catches on that she is 💅

Openly flaunts her relationship with cait cause she adores her so much.

Went through a hunger games phase

Mainly because she had a massive thing for katniss

Vander

Massive top gear fan

Still Owns a bar (which they all live above) but works part time as a mechanic

Has a massive family car for everyone

Tried online dating but stopped when he got catfished

Does NOT understand technology and is honestly a little scared by it

Is that dad to turn up at school and intimidate the kids when he finds out one of his children are being bullied.

Frames powders drawings and hangs them around the house

Goes all out for holidays

Especially for powder, he will dress up as Santa and everything

Loves playing Lego with the kids

They made an entire Lego city together once until ekko tripped over claggers toy lightsaber and broke everything

Gives the kids weekly pocket money

Rolling Stones and a Queen lover

Blasting Bohemian rhapsody when picking the kids up from school

Very into the guitar and attempted to teach all the kids. Mylo was the only one to take interest

Probably takes the piss out of Americans

I don’t know why, he just likes to mock their accent when they do it to him.

It’s his main source of entertainment

Massive Disney fan

Ekko

BIGGEST TEACHERS PET

above average in everything

Loves dance and takes after school club in street dance and tap

Emotional wreck

If he gets told off he will burst into tears and purposely make everyone feel bad

Is smart enough to help vi and mylo with their homework

Went through a Creepy pasta phase and gave himself nightmares

He then shared the stories with powder and infected her with nightmares too

Now he regularly checks his wardrobe at night to make sure slender man isn’t waiting for him.

Him and powder write little stories together. He does the writing and she draws the pictures for them.

Has a crippling fear of elevators

The kinda person to pet every single dog he sees

“Ekko!! That’s not a dog that’s a possum!!”

When he is older he would dye his hair every single colour.

Has a minecraft world dedicated to red stone contraptions

He blew up his console once with the amount of power it used

#arcane #fanfiction #Headcannons #mylo #vi #ekko #powder #Vander #clagger #modern au #au #arcane lol

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wickedpact · 4 years

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dear tumblr user crim wickedpact pls write the essay/dissertation about nicky being shakespeare's fair youth (if you have time, ofc!!)

Not To Imply Nicky Was Shakespeare’s Fair Youth But Ive Read The Fair Youth Sonnets & Nicky Was Definitely Shakespeare’s Fair Youth, an essay by me, tumblr user crim wickedpact

background knowledge: our man shakespeare wrote some 120 sonnets about a young man referred to as the Fair Youth during the mid 1590s; there has been some debate among shakespeare enthusiasts whether shakespeare’s interest in the Fair Youth was platonic or romantic (but like. they were definitely romantic). no one knows for sure who the Fair Youth was, but it was definitely nicky and my first and most important piece of evidence regarding this hypothesis is the ‘lmao babe do you remember that guy who had a crush on me?’/ ‘i try not to remember the guy who had a crush on you’ look joe and nicky exchange when Merrick brings up shakespeare during the movie. especially since gina confirmed in a tweet that joe and nicky canonly did know shakespeare

my second piece of evidence is that it just Works (except for a couple small facts like.. the Fair Youth was prolly closer to his 20s than his 30s. and the fact that shakespeare implies that the Fair Youth slept with his mistress at one point. but he doesnt know what hes talking about shhh we IGNORE)

long post under cut

A. The Description Matches

when describing the Fair Youth (who I’ll call the FY from now on), shakespeare says he has a ‘gold complexion’ and ‘beautiful eyes’ and compares him to a ‘summer’s day’. He says the FY has “A woman’s gentle heart" and “An eye more bright than [women’s are], (...) Gilding the object whereupon [they] gazeth”

As much as shakespeare’s perceptions of sexuality and gender are very........ late 1500′s (whoo boy sonnet #20 is a wild ride) ...... the description does match, and also:

B. The Fair Youth Refused to Get Married

it’s never really said why one way or another (shakespeare assumes it’s because the FY is selfish) but the FY didn’t/wouldn’t take on a wife and have a kid, and this was something that was a real sticker for our man Willy S. because, as he says in his sonnets a million times: beauty doesn’t last forever, but having a child not only passes down the FY’s beauty, but also blesses the woman the FY would have a child with (im not saying shakespeare wanted to bear the FY’s children, but he definitely did)

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

(ie. If you don’t renew yourself/ have children, you deprive the world and deprive a woman from having your child, since what woman out there is so beautiful that she wouldn’t want to bear your child?)

Like.

1.) if nicky is the FY then so many of these poems center around the idea of nicky growing old sometime soon and that must have been pretty funny to Nicky and

2.) the fact that shakespeare would have been So Desperate for nicky to find a wife must have been the opposite of funny to joe. considering the ease of his and nicky’s relationship and the fact that being gay in late 1500s england was probably not a walk in the park, it is very likely shakespeare wouldn’t have known they were in a committed relationship-- or at least not known how close they actually were. Thus:

C. The Rival (aka. Joe)

shakespeare mentions having a poetic rival in regards to the FY in several sonnets. In sonnet #21 he talks about how he’s not like Those Other Writers who use grand metaphors to talk about their muses

So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare,

(ie. I’m not like other poets who, when inspired by a ‘painted beauty’ use heaven and every other beautiful thing on the planet to make a grand comparison to their muse: he specifically lists the sun and moon as examples as well as other beautiful things)

He then goes on to say

And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air:

(ie. my love [the FY] is as beautiful as any other beautiful person, though I wouldn’t compare them to the stars/heavens (which is what he means by the 'gold candles’. those are stars.))

So shakespeare insults poets who compare their subjects to the sun, moon, and stars (amongst other things) and in the comics, Joe does literally exactly that

That man is the stars in my sky, and the sun that lights my days. That man is the moon when I'm lost in darkness, and warmth when I shiver in cold.

shakespeare also goes on to say in the same sonnet “Let them say more that like of hearsay well / I will not praise that purpose not to sell” which is to say ‘let people who like that kind of language use it, I wont because I don’t want anyone else to have the subject of my affections (the FY)’.

(which is a bit of a contradiction regarding his feelings abt the FY getting married, but these sonnets are full of contradictions. shakespeare was a confused dude; man spent the first 100 or so sonnets convinced the FY loved him back only for him to start wondering if the FY ever loved him near the end)

(not to mention Marriage For Love wasnt really.. much of a thing in Ye Olden Times but thats a different conversation. so shakespeare prolly didnt associate marriage with love/competition? anyways)

Shakesy-boo goes on to complain about this rival several times. In #79, he says

Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs thee of, and pays it thee again. He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give, And found it in thy cheek: he can afford No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.

(ie. everything ‘your poet’ (as the FY apparently favored this unnamed rival) says about you, he takes it from you in the first place. he talks about your virtue, but learned the word from watching your behavior. he calls you beautiful but only discovered beauty by looking at your face. every compliment he gives you he took from you in the first place)

[and, as a smaller example, he also bemoans the fact that people want to paint the FY in #67, saying, “Why should false painting imitate his cheek, / And steal dead seeming of his living hue?”. and yknow. Joe’s an artist.]

And then another example in #86

Was it the proud full sail of [the rival’s] great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?

Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?

(ie. he’s talking about how he’s having difficulty writing abt the FY and is rhetorically asking if ‘the proud sail’ of the rival’s verses was the reason his ‘ripe thoughts’ were killed in their ‘womb’. He then asks (again rhetorically) if it was the rival’s ‘spirit’ (or creativity, maybe) ‘’’‘by spirits taught to write’’’’ that killed his own drive to write. none of the analyses I’ve read really explain what shakespeare means by ‘spirits taught to write’, other than maybe being a joke or reference to something we dont know, but... ‘taught by dead people to write in a way mortal people can’t’ very much sounds like a description of an immortal poet, eh?)

Which brings me to,

D. Willy Boy Thinks There Are 500 Year Old Writings About the Fair Youth

shakespeare talks about people having written about the FY ‘500 years ago’ from the late 1500s in #59 which......................... would have been around 1100 AD. :thinking face:

Oh that record could with a backward look, Even of five hundred courses of the sun, Show me your image in some antique book, Since mind at first in character was done, That I might see what the old world could say To this composed wonder of your frame;

(ie. Oh if I could look back 500 years and see how you were described in some old books so I could see/reference what people used to write about you)

Which again brings me to,

E. I’m Not Saying shakespeare Stole From Joe, But:

1.) In #22, shakespeare says this,

For all that beauty that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:

(ie, your beauty is due to the ‘clothes’ my heart gives you-- probably means something like ‘you’re beautiful because i love you’. goes on to say his heart lives in the FY’s chest, and the FY’s heart lives in shakespeare’s chest)

so: shakespeare tells the FY he has shakespeare’s heart. in comparison, Joe calls nicky ‘my heart’ in the comics...... :thinking face x2:

2.) In #109, shakespeare tells the FY ‘thou art my all’,

For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.

which rings similar to Joe’s ‘he’s all and he’s more’ as well as (from the comics) ‘he is my everything’

and just saying. joe looks pretty #done the mention of shakespeare.

F. The last One

Despite shakespeare writing 30+ poems about the FY eventually growing old, the very last poem he writes about/for the FY says,

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein showest Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.

(ie. you [the FY] have power over the ‘mirror’ (fickle glass) of time as well as time’s ‘harvesting’ ability (sickle hour) and as you grow older, you remain beautiful while your lovers [shakespeare] wither and grow old)

The transition from ‘get married and have a baby before you get old!!!!’ in #1-20 to talking about the FY’s presence in 500 y/o books in #59 to admitting the FY isn’t growing old in #126 kinda seems to imply shakespeare learning of/about nicky’s immortality at some point, and this last poem is him accepting it.

TLDR: not only does it make perfect sense if nicky was the Fair Youth from the FY sonnets, but it also makes perfect sense if joe was the Rival from the FY sonnets. its canon nothing will convince me otherwise

#IS THIS GETTING TAGGED? YES #nicolo di genova #joe x nicky #my_essays #the fair youth saga

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