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#the way this took me so long to get to bc i was like i love all the mark friendships 🥲 i love everyone who loves mark 🥲
rafesfavgirl · 1 day
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not like you — r. cameron
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part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')
❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? (that sweet) then pull me to thе backseat (the backseat) no onе's ever had me (had me), not like you ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.
words: 2.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material
"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.
it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.
"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.
was he nervous?
a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.
"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.
"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"
"rafe, what is it?"
"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."
you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"
"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.
"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.
"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.
"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.
"as my girlfriend?"
"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."
rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.
"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.
"your parents won't mind?"
you shake your head, "they're sleeping."
“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.
“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.
…what the hell?
“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.
“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.
sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”
“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“
“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.
“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.
he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 
once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.
"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.
"you like?"
"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."
"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."
while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.
"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."
"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."
you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.
"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."
"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."
"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.
"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"
"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.
"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.
there was just no escaping him.
his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.
a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 
"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"
"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.
"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."
you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.
"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."
"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."
jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.
you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."
"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.
"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."
"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."
"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."
you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."
"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."
you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."
"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."
"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"
he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."
a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"
"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.
"where is she, anyway?"
"she went to go find you, actually," he says.
"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."
half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.
"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."
"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."
you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.
"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.
when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"
she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"
you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.
"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."
"you—"
"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."
you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.
damn that felt good.
"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.
"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.
you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"
"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.
they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?
"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."
"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.
"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"
"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."
you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."
to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.
your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.
"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.
"how's that?"
"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.
"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."
"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”
his eyebrows furrow. “what?”
“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."
and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.
"not even jj?"
you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."
"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.
a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"
"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.
the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.
you shrug, jokingly. "wine."
"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."
without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.
he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."
"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.
you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.
you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.
"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."
you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.
you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.
you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"
"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."
he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.
he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.
you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.
"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.
his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.
"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"
"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.
you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.
"did that answer your question?" you pant.
you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."
"and how do you feel about me?"
he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."
anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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pshcomforts · 2 days
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➳ always | psh.
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idol!sunghoon x fem!reader
“i don’t want things to change, pray they’ll stay the same”
synopsis: you and sunghoon celebrate your 100 day anniversary!
warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff!!! it gets a teeny tiny bit suggestive but nothing happens. hoon and reader love to tease each other! reader also doesn’t do well with affection (lol). nicknames — gorgeous, loser, idiot, pretty. not proofread.
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 2.0k
a/n: this oneshot is in support of my followers reaching 500+ and bc i love you guys! thank you for always showing support one way or another, whether you comment/reblog or you’re a silent follower, you guys have made my account grow so much regardless! forever grateful for each and every one <3 so here’s a happy and comforting fluff!
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: always by daniel caesar
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
2:22 ─────────────|────── -1:22
the day dawned over as sunrise started to peek through the sheer window curtains, awakening y/n.
her eyes cracked open little by little, quickly searching around the room for her phone.
soon enough, the device was in her grasp — looking over the notifications received through the quiet night. a few text messages were shown here and there from her friends and her boyfriend, who was already gone due to his busy idol life.
then, a sudden notification had caught her eye.
୨⎯ don’t forget! 100 day celebration with hoon ׂׂૢ ⎯୧
y/n’s eyes sparkled with joy at the reminder. mind filled with exciting bliss in the thought process of finally getting a day off at work to frost cakes for fun with her boyfriend.
her body basically jolted from the built up anticipation, jumping up from bed to get a start on making the homemade cakes.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
as hours passed and the sun was setting down, sunghoon had finally reached the time to leave practice.
he quickly bid his members goodbye, leaving hybe building to get to where he called home.
“y/n?” he yelled after approaching inside the apartment.
instantly, the boy was hit with the smell of baked sweets — creating a lightly approved hum to be heard.
“gorgeous?”
his call was more worrisome now, a hint of curiosity showing through as he walked in to see his girlfriend with little frosting marks around her clothes.
“hi hoonie!” she cutely beamed with an eye smile.
sunghoon’s heart instantly lit up, fluttering as he took in the sight in front of him. he cleared his throat before replying back — “you finished baking the cakes?”
y/n nodded her head like an eager child. “yeah! i didn’t want to take too long baking because the frosting’s the fun part!” her exclaim had him abruptly smile.
“i wanted to bake with you though.”
his eyes scanned around the room, observing the cake batter slightly spilled around the dirtied bowls while the flour was around his girlfriend. he cracked a grin at her awkward stance after what he said.
“sorry.., i just thought you would’ve wanted to do the frosting because of how tired you might’ve been from practice.”
the male shook his head to reassure her with a playful manner taking over.
“it’s okay, pretty. i’m sure we can still have our fun frosting the cakes together.” his assurance made his girl smile, feeling a comforting warmth at the pit of her stomach.
“thank you..,” she blushed, cheeks reddening at the name call.
“being with me for 100 days has really made you go soft huh?”
“no!” her yell echoed in the quiet kitchen as she landed a smack on his arm afterward.
hoon faked the pain, grabbing at where he had been hit with an exclaim — “ow, y/n!”
the girl playfully rolled her eyes at his cheesy act.
“shut up hoon,” she murmured back with a half smile forming on her lips.
he hissed out a sigh, still going along with the same energy.
“not even gonna tend to your 100 day boyfriend?”
“it’s actually been a little longer than 100 days, so…”
hoon beamed a smile at the little reminder. “so are you still gonna frost cakes with your 100 plus day boyfriend or what?”
“yes hoonie, i am.” she softly replied back, getting the colors of the frosting ready as the cakes cooled down.
the boy hummed a — “good” — before approaching her and planting a kiss on her cheek. they quickly blushed a bright pink once her eyes met his, reflecting love as his did so too.
still meeting her gaze, he mumbled, “can’t wait to see the outcome of our cakes.”
the two smiled in unison after what he said.
sunghoon pulled her in, closing the gap between them to place a sweet kiss on her lips.
“are you gonna wear your practice outfit or do you wanna change into something else?” y/n asked, but breathlessly against him.
she felt his lips turn into a grin, replying with — “i’ll change into something more comfortable.” he clicked his tongue before leaving to her room.
as he changed into something more easing for the occasion, the girl spread out the bowls of frostings and mini cakes onto the table. she strummed in approval, grabbing an apron to tie around herself.
hoon then walked out to the living room, already having his apron on from grabbing it when walking to the bedroom. his eyes instantly landed on her body figure as she barely started to wrap it around her waist.
“want help with that?” he softly beamed with glimmered eyes.
she nodded, turning around so her boyfriend could reach the back ties.
the stance they were in made them a little awkward in the moment, everything quiet and still as she patiently waited to be done. he cinched it up close to her waist, hands being delicate with the back of her body.
his hands then snaked around her waist, pulling her into an embracing hug.
a gasp from y/n was heard from the sudden touch, cheeks unknowingly blushing as she said, “gosh hoon, that was sudden.”
his head rested on her shoulder, eyes closing from the warmth while only chuckling.
soon enough, she pulled away with a bright smile that reflected his.
“come on, we should decorate these cakes.”
her mumble was soft as she sat down, pulling him down with her as well. his gaze lingered to stay on her, but due to the compliance of her request, he decided to actually start frosting the cakes with her.
for the rest of the night, y/n and sunghoon continued to frost and decorate their lunchbox cakes — quiet music playing in the background as they talked to each other through different topics.
“are you almost done?” the pretty boy asked with an eyebrow raise.
she nodded her head with no attention turned to him, all focus completely put into the effort of making the cake look aesthetic.
taking note of this was too obvious in his eyes as he cracked a soft laugh at her — “you’re really focused on this, aren’t you?”
y/n nodded her head again with no response, leaving hoon to disappointingly shake his head in a playful way. he clicked his tongue in an attempt to catch her attention once more but couldn’t celebrate in victory of it.
“gorgeous?” sunghoon called out. “look at me.”
her head swiftly turned to finally look at the boy, only to be met with frosting suddenly landing on her nose.
she gasped loudly at the sweet cream placement — “PARK SUNGHOON!”
his face was immediately enlightened with joy at the name call, fangs and dimples showing up on display for her to see how much he enjoyed her distress.
“how dare you??” the girl whined, smudging off just a little bit of the frosting.
“sorry,” sunghoon snickered a laugh — “but you were too focused.”
“it’s my turn now!” y/n yelled out, fingers dipping into the frosting to get revenge.
he screamed a — “NO!” — as he backed away, only to land on his back with her on top of him.
she laughed at his fallout, hands attempting in every way to place the frosting somewhere near his face.
“stop fussing around hoonie, you started this!”
her voice echoed in the apartment with his laughs being the only thing heard from him.
“you’ll never get it on me!”
with his last words said, she eventually was able to swipe the frosting onto his cheek, earning a scream from him.
“NOOOO!”
hoon’s words were filled with tears of agony and she only giggled at his silly screech, analyzing his facial features to see how playful he was.
eye were shut, dimple was popping through, and full teeth were out for her to see.
“loser, that’s what you get.” y/n teased, nudging his shoulder with her hand like she always did.
he shook his head like a dog shaking its body after a bath, fluffy hair flopping around.
“you better not do it anymore,” she added in with a proud glint in her smile.
he playfully rolled his eyes, flashing another ear-to-ear grin at her as he said, “fine i won’t..,”
her body turned back to the direction of the cake before swiping another finger into the frosting, evil plan already forming in her head.
“hoon..?”
as soon as his face turned, she quickly let the frosting place itself on the tip of his nose. sunghoon shut his eyes at the sensation.
“Y/N!!”
as if the two had switched places, he began to wipe the frosting away and attempt to get back at her.
almost immediately, she was pinned under him, squirming around to leave his grasp but couldn’t due to his strong hold.
“hoonie, you’re supposed to just get me back, not pin me like this!”
y/n shook her head as his amused smile grew.
“i like this more,” he commented.
his finger went to her lips, letting the soft frosting touch them before swooping his head down. their lips connected as he tasted the sweet vanilla icing.
she kissed back and he softly smiled into it, pulling away not too long after to lick his lips.
sunghoon’s eyes glistened as his gaze locked onto hers, admiring just how gorgeous his girlfriend was.
“happy 100 days with you,” he gently murmured with a half smile.
y/n reflected his facial expression as her eye smiles creased — “happy 100 days, loser.”
his hands interlocked with hers, tangling together as they stayed in the same position. they both admired their partner, each in honest disbelief of how they even managed to find someone who got them like no other.
“can’t believe 100 days passed, time moves so quick when I’m with somebody like you.” he uttered, causing y/n’s face to scrunch.
a smile quickly formed on her face after, responding— “that was a little cheesy, hoon.”
the two mirrored each other’s grin, small laughs heard as he shook his head.
“i just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.”
her eyes softened at his adorable confession, causing her cheeks to blush with his. she slipped her hands out of his hold, placing them on the sides of his face to pull him in for another soft kiss.
“through all the teasings, you mean the world to me.., idiot.”
her whisper was delicately against his lips as she pulled away, causing the males face to flush.
in realization of the butterflies he got, he forced himself to lift from their position, allowing her to sit up as well.
“let’s finish decorating these cakes, yeah?” he sweetly mumbled.
y/n nodded in agreement and the two turned back to their cakes that began to crust a little due to the lack of attention.
sunghoon placed a soft kiss on her cheek before fully going back, enjoying how rosy they got at the sudden affection she still wasn’t used to.
“stop it..,” she whined, secretly liking his little displays of affection that were only meant for her.
the girl nudged his shoulder, eyes not even wanting to meet his as she felt her heart thumping.
“go back to your cake.” she added on, taking a quick glance at him so she could admire his gorgeous features.
sunghoon didn’t say anything, just simply smiling and chuckling at his girlfriend before complying to her words.
the two continued to frost and decorate their cakes as the night began to come through.
soft music remained to be the mood maker for them, playing out as they laughed in constant unison of looking over at their fond memories of being together for a little more than 100 days.
more was definitely yet to come as they found their other half in human form.
the invisible string becoming tighter than before while creating more memories to look back on.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
a/n: just wanted to say again, thank you for always supporting one way another! unfortunately, i will be going on a quick hiatus just bc of finals. i won’t be able to write a lot with my focus on school for a little so for the time being, other requests in my inbox will be on hold but i’ll still be posting some of my old writings! so it’s just my new works that’ll be on hiatus (lol). thank you regardless! <33
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dykefaggotry · 1 day
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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]
answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but
oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao
i don't know (johnny johnny)
this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3
2. paris
this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:
After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”
okay! also in an interview once he said:
The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.
(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)
3. if i fell
this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.
4. oh! darling
rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.
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like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.
5. the real life demo
this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:
"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."
which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.
6. If Paul Were A Woman-
shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:
"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"
okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:
"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."
just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.
7. stuart!
not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least
8. john's bisexuality
here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao
9. paul's post-beatles work
there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:
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we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.
and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:
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bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)
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which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning
and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.
10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"
this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:
"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."
he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay
SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy
11. in my life/i will
these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:
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and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually
12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes
"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.
13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions
some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they make out (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|
and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.
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gojos-fr-bae · 12 hours
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Liar pt.8
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: ANGSTTTT, but fluff at the end, cussing, drinking, grinding, NOT PROOFRED, i don't think there's anything else but as always lmk if there is.
Note- the italics is a flashback, actually, Satoru's entire section is a flashback from pt 7.
Word Count: 1.3K
A/N: VFYVKD. Guys, I think this might be the last part to this series😭😭😔😔 This has been a journey, thank you so much for everyone who has read this far, I truly and deeply appreciate every single one of you❤️❤️ I don't want it to endddd, so lmk if you would like me to keep writing for this au bc I would LOOVE to.
(Requests open)
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Satoru
He was beginning to feel like he was slipping. He hadn’t had a glass since the shot he took before Kaito came to spend the night with him. Although it was now night and hours since his son had left, he naively thought that he had overcome his addiction since he hadn’t felt the urge to drink the whole time he was with Kaito. 
Oh how wrong he was. He needed to get a drink and fast. He jumped into his car and began speeding to the nearest liquor store, only to find it with an eight-person line. He didn’t have the patience to wait that long and made his way to a bar. Any bar, honestly speaking, he had no idea where he even was. 
He quickly went over, ordered, and chugged five tequila shots consecutively. Once the alcohol finally kicked in, he finally began to feel like himself again. 
‘He was is disgusting. What kind of pathetic, sorry excuse of a man can’t survive without drowning himself in alcohol? How was he supposed to win you back and be a father for Kaito in such a state?’ 
These were the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind as he ordered a glass of whiskey, this time much more relaxed, seated on his stool, staring lifelessly into the endless abyss. 
He was slowly sipping his drink when he felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders before slowly gliding down his arms. Because of his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to sense them approaching, however, he just chose to ignore, only seeming to amuse the stranger. He slowly turned his seat to face them. 
He was completely unamused when his eyes landed on a young woman clearly intent on getting into his pants. She clearly thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, therefore disarming a chance at him, but all he could think of was how ugly she looked in comparison to you. He just rolled his eyes, trying to go back to wallowing in self-pity. The lady just wouldn’t let up, turning around before she began grinding against him to the beat of the music. Foul, Satoru thought, feeling his patience run out.
“Get away from me you fucking slut,” he hissed, venom lacing his words as he placed his hand on her waist, trying to push her away when next thing he knows, a palm is making contact with his cheek, landing a harsh slap across his face. It was only then that he finally sensed your cursed energy. He quickly turned to face you, heart plummeting when he saw tears streaming through your face. 
Shit, he can only imagine what this looked like to you. He tried to reach out to you but you just screamed at him and ran away from him. 
He began to panic. 
His heart was racing. 
The world around him was spinning and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t move a single inch. His vision was getting spotty and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He felt like he was going to vomit. 
WHY! WHY HIM, WHY NOW! WHY COULDN’T HEJUST CONTROL HIMSELF AND STOP FUCKING DRINKING! He was absolutely torturing himself in his head as he spiraled. 
He finally mustered the strength to run after you, leaving the unnamed girl where she stood, utterly confused.
He ran as fast as his legs could take him but you were nowhere to be found. 
He leapt into his car and drove as fast as the vehicle could go. He was at Jujutsu tech in about five minutes but that was the longest five minutes of his entire life. He had to get to you. He needed to explain, he needed to make sure you know that it wasn't what it looked like.
Y/N
After crying your heart out on the sidewalk, you eventually made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. You texted Shoko and asked her if she could take care of Kaito for the rest of the night. You felt so guilty for staying away from him for two nights in a row but you just couldn’t bear to have him see you like this.
Just as you were about to close the dorm door behind you, you heard running and frantic breathing approach. You didn’t even bother trying to fight Gojo as he forced his way through the door you were trying to shut.
“Y/N p-please” he took a pause, slightly hunched over as he attempted to catch his breath, “I pro- I promise it wasn’t what you looked like!” he tried to explain, clearly panicked. 
“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what it looked like, Gojo.” you questioned, putting emphasis on how you said his name. It felt like you were continuously stabbing him with a jagged dagger and he felt his knees getting weak but he couldn’t let you go, not now.
“My love please! I swear on my life it wasn’t! I wasn’t trying to do anything with her fuck! I don’t even know her name!” “Then what was it Gojo! She was grinding on you and you were FUCKING ENJOYING IT, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!” You yelled your throat raw.
“I was trying to get her away from me! Please, believe me, I promise,” He dropped on his knees, reaching for your hands with his own shaking ones. Tears began to trickle down his face as his breathing grew heavy.
A small part of you wanted to believe it, but you were struggling. Deep down, you were telling yourself that he was telling the truth. But that was a part of you you hadn’t seen since Gojo was sealed. You survived this long without listening to it, so why start now?
“Gojo…let’s get a divorce-”
“NO! NO! BABY PLEASE! Don’t do this to me! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, MORE THAN BREATHING, MORE THAN MYSELF MORE THAN ANYTHING! DON’T LEAVE ME-”
“Gojo you were gone for years! I LIVED WITHOUT A HUSBAND FOR YEARS! And from what it looks like, you CLEARLY didn’t feel my or Kaito’s absence! And from what it looks like, you’ve moved on-”
“BUT I HAVEN’T! I HAVEN’T! I GO TO BED HOLDING A PICTURE OF YOU CLOSE TO MY CHEST EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! I HAVE NEVER TAKEN OFF YOUR RING SINCE THE DAY I GOT BACK AND FOUND YOU GONE!” He cried, showing you your ring, which laid on his fingers. You would be lying if you said you didn’t notice it, but you just assumed that was due to how expensive it was. It would’ve been a waste to let it collect dust in a drawer.
“Y/N, you and out baby boy are the only fucking reason I wake up every day. You two are the light of my life and when I lost you. I was so distraught I even started drinking and you know better than anyone how much I hate that shit but it’s the only thing that takes my mind off of everything!”
You were now crying too, touched by what he was saying. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word and it shook you to your core. 
You stayed anchored where you stood, sobbing now as Satoru got up off his knees and took you into his arms. Hugging you as tightly as he could without breaking your ribs.
You couldn't even move. You just stood there and cried with him, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the past couple of years wash away.
All that grief, suffering, and pain over the past few years was washing away in your tears.
You love him.
You had pushed down your feelings for him so deep that for a moment, you forgot they were even there. But you love him, and he you, and you knew that there was know way either of you could live without each other any longer.
You love him, and he loves you, and nothing was going to change that. 
Not now, not ever.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
The End...?
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa
© gojos-fr-bae
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kyberblade · 2 days
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Back To You - (Din x Reader) Epilogue/Prologue for Close To Home
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A/N: IT IS HEREEEEEEE!!! So sorry it took so long. So much happens. I was going to divide this and then I thought, “Hmmmmm…. No.” As one does. Another note at the end to avoid spoilers. Seriously. Don’t read it until you’ve read the whole thing. You’ve been warned. I have spoken. This is the way. Yada yada yada. …..You just jumped forward and came back didn’t you? 🙄 Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits​ wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.
There are parts of this you won’t understand if you didn’t read the Dincember 2022 Drabble Carry You With Me, but they are very small mentions, you will be fine as a whole if you don’t want to read it. But why wouldn’t you? 🥺
(This takes place two years after the other one, and goes to the beginning-ish of episode 1/5 of TBoBF, Return of the Mandalorian.)
I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, (Nobody touch me he’s still here okay?) and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 😬 Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Return of past characters. Tears. Shenanigans. Lots of banter. Throwback to chapter one with dialogue repeats but in the best™️ way, and copious amounts of me trying to work in back to you as a normal thing in a sentence bc why not.
Word count: 16,655 (I said what I said.)
As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.
And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.
Also a shoutout to @what-the-heckin-heck, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss, and @littlemisspascal for being a sounding board for me over this whole process. (Also to @deceiver-of-gods for all of your help over all the chapters with the Mando’a. I hope I got it right in this one.)
Previous | Series Masterlist | Next
Xxx
Two years later….
Tatooine was bustling. As always. Vendors with their wares, smells and brilliant sights everywhere you turned. Something new and exciting to pull you in and suck all your credits dry just like the planet's heat stole every drop of moisture…. 
But it was all nothing without the kid. It was dull and drab without Grogu at your side. His soft babbles, the odd ‘Patu’ he’d throw at the next snack he’d like to steal…. 
Dank farrik! Turning away from the hanging frogs at the nearest vendor, you swiped at the most recent batch of tears rising to the surface. Sniffling loudly, you melted into the warm hand that came to rest on your back, eyes fluttering shut.
“It’s okay, mesh’la. I miss him, too.” The modulated voice at your ear carried unspoken sorrow of its own, sadness it’d never dare to even whisper into the universe, lest that make it real. If he kept it hidden, secret…. Like his face, nothing in the galaxy could use it against him. Somehow it made him stronger. And you both resented that and wanted to squeeze the life out of him for it at the same time. 
“It’d be nice if you’d show it once and a while….” You grumbled, turning toward him but keeping your eyes cast down to stare at the sand.
His hand fell to his side slowly. “What?” Head tilting to the side as he peered down at you in question, barely any space left between you, it leaned the other way when you shook your head with a sarcastic grin.
“Nothing. Forget it.” Your eyes lifted up to meet his visor finally, squinting against the glare of the twin suns. “Got everything?”
Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”
His words were cut short when the satchel across his chest suddenly dropped to the ground, the strap cut inconspicuously by a passing Rhodian seeming to casually bump into the Mandalorian only moments before.
You turned to try and find the culprit but Din tugged on your upper arm. 
“Forget about him. He’s just the-” Both of you looked down at the ground to find the satchel missing, “-distraction.”
You smirked. “I see.”
As Din’s head began to swivel in search of the thief, you attempted to reach out through the crowd with the Force, searching for the familiar signature of the contents in the satchel.
“How did you not get an alert?”
Now your head was on a swivel. Directly to the Mandalorian. “A what?”
“You know.” He wiggled his fingers like Cara always did when referencing the Force. “Why didn’t you know?”
You rolled your eyes with a sigh, looking back to the crowd. “It doesn’t work that way.” The world weary words you’d said a thousand times felt like a mantra at this point. Then after a moment you added, “I’m not a security system.”
“Well that would be handy,” Din said offhandedly, beginning to walk purposefully in the direction the two of you had come not minutes before.
Stumbling after him, your face scrunched like you’d eaten something sour, you pulled on his upper arm to try and turn him around, but it only stopped him, his head still on a swivel. “Wait, what?!”
Din sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just looking for the thief. That bag has something impor-”
“Your old armor, I know.” Din’s full attention was on you now, his head tilted slightly in question. “Everything has an energy, that’s a really simplified way of how the Force works. Right now I’m trying to track the signature of your armor.”
“What is it?” He asked hesitantly, his weight shifting to one side.
Smiling softly, you took a step forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him down a side alley toward where you felt the signature grow stronger. “Nothing but goodness, Man- Din. Light and strength.” You stumbled over his name, still not used to using his actual moniker in public.
He chuckled at your fumble, shaking his head in disbelief. “From that dingy old stuff?”
“It’s not the quality of the armor that I’m reading.” You looked at his visor over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “It’s the quality of the warrior who wore it.” Turning back forward to navigate between the street crowded with lifeforms, one side of your mouth lifted in amusement. “That type of thing leaves an impression.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally grumbled quietly. When you looked back at him once again, your brow arched higher than before, he huffed. “How did you know it was there?”
Smiling softly as you held the gaze of his visor, you turned back to face forward, moving a bit faster. “You’re about as subtle as your new armor.” Din let out a soft, annoyed groan. “I saw you packing it back in Peli’s hangar.”
“I can be subtle,” he groused, slowing his steps slightly.
With your own groan, you turned to face him with a toss of your head for emphasis. “Yes. So subtle, Mandalorian. My big, shiny tin can. Now come.” Grabbing his hand once again with both of yours, you began to walk backwards, pulling him along with you. “We have a thief to catch.”
The alley had quieted down, the masses of beings thinned out so it was basically only you and Din, and maybe a handful of beings milling about, using the cross way as a shortcut to somewhere else. No one was lingering, their faces streaking by as they hurried to move on with their day.
“Hold that thought.” Din pulled you to a stop, planting his feet as he turned his head toward a crate on his left. On top of the box sat his satchel, untouched, his armor still causing it to look awkward and lumpy. “We may have just lucked ou-”
A surge of panic behind you caused you to turn toward the source, a small figure darting out of your line of sight as a familiar small voice muttered, “Oh shi-” before spinning around in Din’s hold, his grip around their forearm holding them tight.
“Okay, you little nerf herder, nice try- Sola?” Din’s voice dropped on the name.
You turned to fully face the pair, eyes going wide on the small girl now a young adult, maybe twelve, possibly thirteen years old now. 
She looked between the two of you, her expression a mirror of your own, as her body deflated in Din’s hold, her weight going slack in his grip while she cried in disbelief, “It’s you?!”
You couldn’t help the highly intelligent thing that tumbled out of you next. “It’s you?!”
Sola sighed a sigh worthy of a Mandalorian before she grumbled, kicking one foot at the sand path of the alleyway. “I knew I recognized that armband.”
Reaching up, you traced over the ribbons on your left bicep with the tips of your fingers on your right hand, eyes darting down to look at it briefly before they pulled back up to level a stern glare on the girl.
Before anything else could be said, heavy footfalls came racing up behind your little gathering. A female stumbled the last few steps, coming to a stop and collapsing, slapping her hands onto her knees before you could see her face, struggling to catch her breath. You opened your mouth to greet the newcomer, but she held up one finger before you could utter a sound. 
Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”
Your head whipped over toward the figure, eyes wider still. “It’s you?!” A hand came up to rest on your forehead, massaging back and forth as if that would help things sink in and make more sense. Your brows practically knit together in confusion with this new information, one arching up as you stared at the woman. “I’m so confused.”
Standing up, with one last heavy breath, Cara offered the two of you a tired smile. “Following up a lead.”
She held up a hand to stop Din before he could even ask, her eyes closing in mock annoyance. “Long story.” She opened them once again to land directly on you with a wink as Din sighed in exasperation before her attention turned onto Sola, her hand falling to gesture to the adolescent before landing at her side with a graceless slap. “And this little womp rat stole my commlink.”
Din looked down at the girl, giving her arm still in his grip a little shake. “This is Sola.” 
The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults. 
Cara’s gaze flicked up towards his visor, almost accusingly. “Friend of yours?” You nodded, and she sighed, hands going to her hips, weight shifting to one side. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Sola,” you tried calmly, going over to grab Din’s satchel before it was forgotten in the chaos. “Explain, please.”
“Nothing. It was nothing. I just grabbed hers by mistake, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
Cara leveled a look on the girl, her tone dry. “Off my belt?”
Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”
The Marshal lifted the look to Din. 
“Don’t do that to me,” he complained. “I didn’t teach her that.”
“Don’t even pretend to look at me next, Cara,” you held up your hand to stop her before she even tried. “I only taught her good things.”
Sola rolled her eyes and tried to tug out of Din’s hold, but the Mandalorian easily held her in place.
“Have a seat,” you offered sweetly, pulling the crate the bag had been on toward you with the Force, and giving her a nudge to sit. “Talk.”
She stared over at the wall behind you, grinning in disbelief. “It was a dare, okay?” Her eyes pulled up to meet yours, their hard stare melting slightly once they did, revealing something vulnerable, something broken. Her voice softened just slightly, but still held the mock vibrato she started out with, making you huff as she continued. “Some kids dared me to take someone’s bag, and I was just unlucky enough to choose you.”
“And my comlink?” Cara tried.
Sola turned to her with a cheesy grin. “That was just bad luck on your end.”
“I’ll show you bad luck,” Cara grumbled, stepping closer to the teen.
You stepped between them. “Cara.”
“What?” She barked, trying to peer over your shoulder at the girl before looking you in the eyes.
“No.”
“She stole-”
“She’s a kid,” you corrected. “Tell me you didn’t do dumb stuff when you were her age. Hell, you do dumb stuff now.”
“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.
You smirked, arms crossing over your chest as your weight shifted to one leg. “Ah, but I travel with a Mandalorian. What’s your excuse?”
Cara scoffed. “I knew him first, if we’re going that route.”
“I’m right here,” Din said, somewhat offended, reaching out to gently push Sola down by the shoulder without a second glance when she went to stand up.
You kept your voice even, mildly distracted as you spoke somewhat flippantly. “Mandalorians who shot their partner in the leg don’t get to talk right now.”
“I didn’t shoot you!” He protested, voice going up at the end in agitation.
“You shot her?” Cara asked at the same time Din spoke, turning to look at him with raised brows.
“I didn’t shoot her!” Din corrected before Cara could even finish, his visor swiveling back to you. “It was a ricochet.” His head tilted to the right as he stared at you. “On Gideon’s ship. The bolt bounced off the droid when she launched at it, and-”
You waved your hand dismissively, gaze landing on nothing in particular across the street. “Same thing.”
“It is no-”
“Ugh!” Sola threw her head back and groaned, staring at the sky with wide eyes, her voice went up with each following word. “This is torture!” Her head lowered back to look between the three of you, eyes narrowed to slits before they fluttered shut and she heaved another heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her palms on the crate, her face finally relaxing to something more neutral. “Just…. Stop whatever…. This,” she gestured vaguely with one hand while her nose scrunched up slightly in disgust, “is.”
You turned back to face her, nodding for her to go on, but Din interrupted.
“Later.”
You rolled your eyes as he waved his finger at you in admonishment before landing them back on the girl, smiling softly. “Go on, Sola.”
She hesitated before taking a quick breath and letting it all out on an exhale, speaking quickly. “My parents are diplomats from a planet in the Mid Rim.” 
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”
Sola glared at you, taking an exaggeratedly deep breath before speaking overly clearly the rest of her explanation. “We’re here to broker peace between the different ruling houses and our world.”
“Hey, if you’re going to have an attitude, we can just leave,” you warned.
“Great!” Sola beamed. “Bye!” She went to rise from the crate but both Din and Cara pushed down on a shoulder on each side respectively, earning a soft oomph! from the teen. 
She sighed resignedly before going on. “But as you can probably guess, that goes as smooth as sand in a hyperdrive.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to do anything. I have to keep up appearances, and stay inside most of the time now because we have gotten death threats after a deal gone bad recently.”
Din visibly stiffened beside her, Cara, too. A chill ran up your spine as she continued.
As she relaxed further back into the crate, her words seemed almost lazy, lackadaisical. “So I started sneaking out. Nothing major, just needed some fresh air, well, it’s Tatooine, so, air.” Her tone went rigid with her posture, the spark in her fading to a dull ember as her volume faded to a mere murmur. Her index finger traced lines along her knee as her eyes followed the invisible trails it made. “Then I met them.”
“Who?”
Sola met your eyes, almost startled when you asked, like she’d forgotten people were listening. She shrugged one shoulder, her eyes dropping back down to her lap, her tone still soft. “Doesn’t matter. A group of kids. They do petty crimes and stuff, I wasn’t going to do anything, but they said they were going to tell the people who had been sending death threats how I was sneaking in and out at night.” Her hand stilled, then began poking at the ankle of her foot tucked up under her absently, her eyes cast down at the ground. “They had been watching me, I guess. Let them know all our weak points in security. If I didn’t do a job for them, then they’d tell….”
“And one job turned into more….”
She nodded at your comment. Her eyes flickering up to meet yours for only a second before they pulled down again.
“Why didn’t you just tell your parents and beef up security?” Din’s voice was in planning mode.
Sola peered up at him, squinting against the suns’ light. “And prove I’d let them down?” She looked down at her lap, fiddling her thumbs. “Sneaking around, been committing petty crimes? Would you have done that?”
Din looked at the ground, his voice quiet. “Probably not.”
“Give me my comlink,” Cara said, holding out her hand toward the girl.
You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Really, Cara? You hear all that and you’re still banging on about your damned-”
Once the device was in her hand, she took a few steps away and spoke into it in a professional voice. “This is Marshal Dune. Please call off the search. It wasn’t stolen, I just dropped it. Sorry for the confusion.” A male voice you couldn’t quite make out garbled over static on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Cara replied, turning to face the three of you. “Also, I’m going to take off the rest of the day. Found some booths I want to wander through. We’ll pick up our meeting tomorrow. Yeah. See you then.”
She made her way back over, clipping the comlink to her belt. “I just bought us about twelve hours. What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Sola looked between the three of you with wide eyes.
You smiled. Her gaze was up and off the ground for the first time this conversation. And it was full of hope. 
“Of course,” you said, smiling gently. “Nobody messes with a member of our family and gets away with it.” Sola grinned at your words. You’d do pretty much anything to keep it there. “Now, let’s go scare some thugs, shall we?”
Xxx
“Now, I know that you packed it,” you said, standing in the fresher of the Crest, voice jiggling as you hopped slightly to pull the armor higher up your chest. “But I don’t know why.”
“Oh, the Jedi is stumped, is she?” Din’s sarcastic amusement was muted through the door, making you roll your eyes. 
Setting your weight to one hip, you pressed the button, and the durasteel barrier hissed open to reveal your Mandalorian leaning against the frame. His arms across his chest as he waited for you, his posture easy and relaxed, he looked like a growth on the walls of his ship.
Cara and Sola were out in the hangar with Peli, their voices faintly heard along with the annoyed bleeps and bloops of R5 as they echoed off the stone walls and up the open ramp. 
“Not stumped,” you countered quickly, walking around him to the middle of the cargo hold as you pulled your gloves on, chin held high as you chose your next words with care. His visor followed you as you went. “Just…. Curious.” You finally landed on with a huff, looking down at your hands as they fiddled mindlessly before adding on a mumbled, “And I’m not a Jedi.”
Din pushed off the wall, his head shaking gently in disbelief as he walked toward you slowly. “I was going to have Boba melt it down and forge it into something better.” He stopped somewhere behind you. You were purposely not paying attention, trying not to get distracted and make sure your armor was set up correctly, only faintly registering the absence of the soft thud of his boots on the metallic floor of the Crest right behind you before he went on. “I don’t know where the armorer is right now, and it’s not full beskar anyway, so any smith could do it, but I trust him.”
“Something better?” You turned to face him, head tilted to the side as you clicked your vambraces into place, their gears whirring to life. Stumbling back an inch as you startled, his chest plate brushing against your nose he was so close, you reached out to swat his arm lightly in annoyance, muttering a Don’t do that and shaking your hand out to the side with a grimace after it pinged off his beskar. Craning your head back to look up at him properly, you couldn’t help the small grin when you found him already peering down at you. “Like what?”
Din’s head tilted just so to the right. “Something for you.” He didn’t miss a beat. 
Your eyes widened slightly before they narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He was smiling. You could tell by the lilt in his voice as he leaned into the tilt of his head, his body following and started down the ramp. “You know me so well.”
Reaching out, you grabbed his cape. “Nu-uh. Not so fast, Tin Can. Hold up.” Pulling him back to you, though he gave very little resistance, you leaned around to look into his visor when he was a few inches away, his hands on his hips in mock annoyance. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice had gone soft. He turned to face you fully. “I know that armor is important to you.”
“So are you.”
You grinned. “Smooth, Shiny. Real smooth.”
Din shrugged one shoulder, his hands falling to rest at his sides loosely. “I have my moments.”
You nodded, starting down the ramp, and talking over your shoulder. “And they are few and far between.”
Din scoffed. “Lucky for you. You couldn’t handle me at full throttle.”
Grinning, you looked down at your vambraces and twisted them a bit. “That sounded like a threat.”
“It’s whatever you wanted it to be, mesh’la.”
“You look like a Mando.” Sola’s voice pulled your attention away from the man at your back before you could reply. 
“What? In beskar?” You gestured to the armor down your body. “No.”
The young girl rolled her eyes at you.
Grinning, you reached up to adjust your scarf tucked in to make the armor fit a bit better, and noticed her posture go rigid.
“You kept it,” she mumbled, pointing lamely toward the blue material around your neck.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just….” She pulled at her flowing poncho, revealing her bright pink scarf, still vivid as ever, tucked away underneath, close to her heart. “I have mine, too,” she amended softly. “I keep it hidden so it doesn’t get dirty or torn.”
“Kind of like my armband….” You mumbled, closing the last few steps between you before reaching out to softly roll the fabric of her scarf between your thumb and index finger as she traced the ribbon on your bicep with the tips of her own.
“I still have no idea what hyperspace looks like,” she mused, staring at the glittering fabric with a sad smile. “I was so little when we came here, and my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near a cockpit. I’ve only ever been in a cabin while the ship was moving. No viewports….” She met your eyes again, hand falling to her side. “Supposedly we flew beside some purrgil and even then they wouldn’t let me look.”
Letting your own hand fall to your side, fiddling with the air aimlessly, you held her gaze. “Why not?”
Sola shrugged. “Not sure. They said something about safety at the time, and I just never pressed it, but now it just feels suffocating.”
“I know it’s annoying,” Din chimed in softly from behind you, his shadow looming over the young girl in the dying sun’s light, “but I would give anything to have my parents be overbearing one more time.”
Sola’s eyes flew up to the Mandalorian. “What happened to them?”
“A story for another time,” he said stoically, turning to the right and going deeper into the hangar. “Let’s confirm the plan.”
You turned with Cara and Sola on your left to head that way, Peli falling in step on your right as the droids followed along behind.
“They aren’t around anymore. It happened when he was very young, about the same age as when we met you. That’s why he became a Mandalorian. That’s all I’ll say,” you offered quietly. “The rest is his story to tell.”
The first stars were twinkling overhead as the sky said good night in brilliant shades of red and orange. 
Once your party had circled around one of Peli’s many cluttered tables off to the side, the top of it littered with ship parts, Din turned to you. 
“Gar beskar'gam jate slanar?” (“Your armor good to go?”)
You nodded. “Elek. An jate.” (“Yes. All good.”)
Sola turned her head slowly up toward Cara, one brow arched in confusion.
The Marshal slowly shook her head, eyes closed. “They do this….”
“Do what?” You asked, brows knit toward your friend.
Cara leveled you with a look. “Start speaking in any one of a thousand languages none of the rest of us know.”
R5 started beeping animatedly, trilling as he wheeled back and forth on his treads excitedly, and ended on a raspberry, making you and Peli laugh.
“Oh, great,” Cara rolled her eyes, “even the droid’s are in on it.”
BD and Treadwell made their way into the circle, the Pit droids not far behind, all of them chattering away as they approached you until Din sent a blaster shot pinging off of a piece of scrap pipe over in a corner.
The droids all screeched before going silent, freezing in their steps as Peli cried in protest, “Hey! Watch it!”
“Yeah, we don’t want another ricochet,” you mumbled, adjusting your armor for no good reason besides looking down and away from his judgemental visor.
Cara and Sola snickered from their spots across the table from you, the weight of Din’s stare beside you nothing short of stifling.
“If you stare any louder, Din, they may ask you to be quiet all the way on Coruscant,” you muttered quietly, adjusting your vambraces needlessly for the umpteenth time to hide the growing smirk across your face.
“I’ll just tell them it’s because of you, they'll understand. Garner sympathy.”
Only your eyes lifted up to glare daggers at his visor, his head tilting to the side teasingly as he held your gaze.
“The plan?” You groused, looking across the table with a sigh as your weight shifted to one side - away from the Mandalorian. 
His tone was light, as if it held a smile, while he laid out the steps of the plan one more time. “Sola said they would be meeting her back at the market in an hour. She meets them as planned. The three of us follow her, and stick around in the shadows, as inconspicuously as possible-”
“Says the man who’s a walking mirror.”
Din didn’t even bother to look at you, only sighing at your remark, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he went on. “From there, we follow them back to their base of operations. From what we’ve heard, shouldn’t be too hard to get into. We get in, cause a little chaos, get them to release Sola from this…. Contract, then we leave as quietly as we came.”
“No one dies.”
Cara nodded at your words, Din nodding once in agreement, his body going stiff at your next statement. 
“Even if we run into a Jawa.”
He took a deep breath to begin to protest, but you held up a finger to stop him, mocking his words from earlier.
“Later.”
Xxx
Spotting the culprits was easy enough. They weren’t sly about anything as they paraded through the streets with their puffed up chests, smirking as people scattered from them should they get too close. They hassled a vendor or two, shaking them down for a payout, and Cara grumbled beside you, gripping the buckle that showed she was a Marshal tightly through her poncho she wore to conceal it.
Before you could do anything, Din was hot on their heels, handing the vendors a stack of credits to make reparations as soon as the thugs’ backs were turned. They would try and insist he keep it, lightly shoving the money back into his hands, but Din somehow managed to sweet talk them into accepting every time, his head ducked down slightly, hand over theirs in a calming gesture. You wished you could hear what he said.
“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Cara muttered offhandedly. “Caring, soft almost. It looks good on him.”
“Yeah, it does,” you agreed softly. “That’s how he is with the kid. Grogu brought out a side of him I don’t think would have seen the light of day otherwise.”
She elbowed you. “Oh, I dunno. You’re pretty persuasive. Think it’d’ve come out eventually.”
You slid only your eyes sideways to look at her. “Why must you shit talk me?”
“Because if I don’t I’ll simply fade away. It gives me sustenance. I could go days without food, but teasing you? That simply wouldn’t do.”
Turning your head to peer at her incredulously, you spoke in a low voice after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to go stand over there,” you pointed behind you, “as far away from you as possible right now.”
Cara scoffed. “Good. Go. Your beskar'gam is drawing too much attention, anyway.”
With a grin, you began walking backwards down the street, keeping to the shadows. “Aw, you paid attention.”
Your friend glared at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”
A shit eating grin was across your face. “You’re speaking Mando’a….”
Cara huffed, her attention turning back to the street as she mumbled, “Last time I make that mistake.”
Stopping short, you stood up straight. “Aw, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Cara. Feelings are a good thing. They make us human-”
“If you don’t stop talking-”
“Are you two done?” Din’s voice across the alley from the two of you pulled both sets of eyes his way. “They left a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with your bickering.” His head swiveled between you and the Marshal, judgment heavy through his visor. “Sola is with them, I gave her a tracker, slipped it to her when no one was looking while someone,” he looked at you pointedly, “wasn’t paying attention.”
“I was paying attention,” you groused, voice lowering as you kicked at the sand below your feet. “Just not to that.”
“She was talking about you,” Cara tattled, stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, stretching like a loth cat.
“So were you!” You protested, also stepping into the nightlight, making Cara squint as she held up a hand as if to block the glare of the reflection off your armor. Swatting her hand down, you knit your brows at her. “It’s not that bright out here, don’t be dramatic.”
“Children. I’m surrounded by literal children,” Din muttered, turning and walking away exasperatedly.
“There’s no need to be rude,” you grumbled, following after him.
“Then prove me wrong,” he called over his shoulder. “Right now you’re worse than Grogu.” You gasped. “When he needs a nap.” Cara gasped. “And he’s hungry.” You both gasped.
“I take it all back,” Cara stormed past Din, her words brusque and aloof. “You’re the meanest person I know.”
“Person?” Your tone was incredulous as you sped up to fall in step with her ahead of the Mandalorian, head swiveling to land on him with a sly smirk over your next word. “Droid.”
Din stopped in his tracks and sighed, head tilting back to the sky just slightly with a gentle shake. “Oh, this mission is off to a great start.”
When both you and Cara kept walking ahead of him, the bounty hunter finally called out on a hiss, “Hey! Are you two done?”
“I don’t know, are we?” You turned on your heel to face him, hands on your hips as you planted your feet and arched your brows in question, almost accusingly. 
Din bit his tongue before he turned this into a whole something else before this entire endeavor even got off the ground…. again. For the third? fourth? time. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gotten off track in the last five minutes alone, let alone today as a whole.
With a jut of his thumb to his left down a narrow alley, he tilted his head that way for emphasis. “Thugs’re that way.” 
Both you and Cara hesitated for only a moment, weight shifting slightly from side to side before you dropped your hands from your hips with a huff and headed toward the alley, your Marshal friend in tow.
As you passed by Din, he muttered a low and amused, “Oh wise one.”
“I’ll tell Sola you said so,” you shot back in a low murmur. “She already knows I’m the smart one.” The alley was so small you had to form a single file line, and somehow you were in the front with Cara behind you, and Din pulling up the back. 
“She just lets you think that’s what she thinks,” Cara hummed. “We all know it’s me.”
Din snorted. “It’s neither of you.” He shook his head at the two sets of eyes shooting daggers at him over their shoulders as they came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I’m the one with the map and the tracker, remember?” He tapped the right side of his helmet with his index finger.
“Oh, will you just get in front and lead, you overgrown Tin Can?!” You hissed, flattening yourself against the wall to let him pass, the heat of the day still clinging to the wall at your back.
Cara rolled her eyes as she squished herself, allowing him through, but it was still a tight fit all around between the three of you. When Din passed her, his back against the opposing wall, she grimaced though he moved quickly. “Will you just get out of my face, Shiny?”
“What, you mean you don’t want to get to know me this well?” Din relaxed his weight a little, leaning into her slightly. “I thought we were friends.”
Cara shoved him with one arm toward you, making him laugh as he kept going, stumbling slightly from the impact. “We won’t be if you keep on that thread of conversation, Mando.”
Din stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head sideways as he muttered softly, “Hi, mesh’la.” Leaning his forehead into yours, he chuckled softly at Cara’s over exaggerated gag in reaction.
“I’m trying to be mad at you,” you grumbled, fisting one hand into his cowl as you ignored Cara’s groans, elbowing her in the ribs with your free arm when she continued.
“What was that for?!” She cried in protest.
“Just because I’m happy, doesn’t mean you need to moan about it.”
Her face scrunched in disgust as she looked away at the wall across from her. “Go be happy somewhere else. We have a job to do.”
Din sighed. “She’s right,” and pushed off the wall to get in front.
You held on to his cape from behind him. “No. No, she’s never right.” Cara landed a swift kick to the back of your boot. “Ow! What was that for?”
“For being so wrong all the time!”
“Don’t make me speak Mando’a to you,” you grumbled. “Or how about Huttese? I also know Shyriiwook now, too.”
“How about you speak silence.”
Din snorted at the Marshal’s words from his spot in front of you, Cara huffing out a laugh from behind.
“When all of this is over, you both are gonna pay.”
“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.
Looking over your shoulder, you arched a brow, holding up one hand by your face and wiggling your fingers. “Well maybe I should.”
Her face went pale, her steps faltering slightly as understanding dawned on her features. “You don’t scare me,” she repeated, her voice softer after she swallowed roughly.
You chuckled, turning back to face Din’s cape once again. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Before you could answer, Din cut in, without bothering to turn around, “It's just her way of threatening to trip you. Don’t read into it too much.”
He no sooner said that than he was stumbling forward down the alley, reaching out to brace himself on the walls with his forearms.
“Look at that? My boot also works in mysterious ways.”
“What happened?” Cara asked, oblivious to you tripping Din with the toe of your shoe.
“Gravity. Don’t read too much into it.”
Grinning up at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet where he had stopped in front of you, you let go of his cape still in your grip. “Careful, Din. There’s gravity there.”
“What did he even trip on?” Cara’s voice was incredulous.
“Air? His ego? Pride…. The options are endless….”
“The foot of an over eager Jedi that’s about to be in her mouth if she keeps talking,” Din hissed, barely looking over his shoulder at the two of you, arms falling from the walls to his sides.
“How do you mean?” You scoffed, following after him as he began to move down the alley again.
“We’re here,” he said with a flourish, the small avenue opening up to a wide street brightly lit with several buildings that dead ended down on the right. With a swooping gesture, he moved to the left, making room for the two of you to step forward beside him, his visor following you closely before tilting to the side. “You’re welcome.”
“She’s right,” Cara mused quietly. “Your ego is big enough for all three of us to trip on.”
“At least it’s well deserved,” Din groused. “I got us here, didn’t I?”
“You followed a map. That was attached to a tracker. A blindfolded bantha wouldn’t have had a much more difficult time….” You said offhandedly, surveying the area.
Din stared at you for a long moment. “That armor makes you mean,” he grumbled.
“It makes me wonderful,” you countered, eyes across the street on a conspicuous crate, narrowing when it jostled slightly. “You’re just jealous that it looks better on me than it ever did on you.”
“Yeah. That’s it,” Din agreed sarcastically, his weight shifting to one side as he followed your line of sight. Pressing the side of his helmet, he immediately went into planning mode. “I’ve got two heat signatures.”
“Matches up with what I’m sensing. Two life forms. A whole mess more inside.” You took your blaster from its holster, its gears whirring to life. “Everyone set to stun?”
Hums of agreement came back at you along with nods in your peripheral.
“I’ll go in on the right while you two take care of whoever is lurking over there,” Cara gestured across the street with her blaster. “Sneak in that side door and start clearing until I find Sola and slip her a blaster, then we’ll find this boss.”
“I’m in,” you agreed, while Din nodded in agreement beside you. “Let’s go, Tin Can. We have some thugs we need to introduce to beskar.”
Xxx
Storming the place was easy. These thieves didn’t know the first thing about defending their home base.
Getting out on the other hand…. That was proving to be more difficult.
You pulled up behind a wall, tucking your arms into your chest as tightly as possible to make yourself a smaller target, your blaster held between both hands at the ready.
“You said this would be easy!” Din yelled from his mirror position across the hall. Well, almost mirror. He leaned on one shoulder, blaster held up in the opposite hand near his head. His whole body looked just on this side of casual. 
“I said no such thing. You did,” you countered, trying to mimic his posture subtly. “And on that note, Cara was the one who said you and I should go in together, so this is all-”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cara’s voice carried from down the hall, the first word elongated as she slid across the floor on her hip to avoid flying blaster bolts to finally land next to you before popping up. “Don’t you dare drag me into this lovers tiff. Nuh-uh.”
Both you and Din spoke in tandem, “This isn’t-”, “We’re not-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sola said dismissively, jogging up easily behind Din, a singe mark on the shoulder of her poncho. 
Din stood up straight in an instant, took her arm in his hold gently to examine it, turning her every which way to get a better look. “What happened?”
“Told the boss I quit.” She grinned proudly before it melted into a grimace. “He didn’t take it so well.”
Blaster bolts zinged down the hall between the four of you, streaking the air in vibrant shades of purple and red, even an errant green here and there.
“If I could just use my saber-” you started, cut off by the unanimous voices of your friends.
“No!”
Letting your head lull back against the wall with a gentle thump, you rolled it in aggravation before facing the others again. “And why not?! I’ve saved your asses so many times!”
“Close quarters!” Cara was gesturing with her hands while she spoke, referencing the hall. “Too many people!” She gestured between the four of you. “Laser sword very bright! Very hot!”
You narrowed your eyes at your friend. “I singed one corner of your tunic. One!”
“And that was one too many,” Din countered, popping around the corner to let off a barrage of shots before coming back for safety.
“This was my favorite,” Cara said forlornly, looking down at the smoldering fabric. 
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“No you won’t,” Cara scoffed. “You can’t afford my tastes-”
“Can we please focus on getting out of here!” Sola’s annoyed voice rang out louder than the blaster fire, pulling all three gazes her way. 
Din was the first to break, turning back to lay down cover fire once again around the corner. “Kid’s right,” he grunted, before letting off a shot that was accompanied by a pained scream at the end of the hall.
“I thought we were set to stun?” You hissed.
Din looked down at his blaster and shrugged meekly, flipping it back to stun. “Sorry. Old habits….”
“I know I am,” Sola said matter of factly, pulling you back to the topic at hand. “Now what’s the plan?”
Stepping a little closer to the corner you were tucked behind, you holstered your blaster. “The plan is for you all to eat your words tonight.”
“What are you doing?” Cara’s worried tone sounded at your back, Din’s incredulous one to your left. “Mesh’la, come on, don’t do something-”
“To save our skins?” You finished for him, looking up into his visor with a determined glint in your eye. “Watch me.”
After taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and stepped out into the hall where the blaster fire had died down just slightly. The few earrent bolts bounced away from you as if they were hitting a force field. Confused whispers from the enemy preceded a pickup in the rapid fire, bolts flying at a new frenzy, none of which came anywhere close to touching you or your friends.
Lifting your hands in front of you, the bolts began to stop, hovering in mid air inches from your face, your hands, some several feet from you. The room glowed with multi-colored plasma bolts hovering above the floor. As the shots died out, silence filling in the blanks left behind, the corner of your mouth twitched up in an amused smirk.
With a small twitch of your index finger, all their blasters were disabled with a tink. 
When you opened your eyes, the blaster bolts that hung suspended all immediately flew the other way, back toward the senders, but in such a way that they wouldn’t hit anybody. 
Within an instant the group of thieves at the end of the hall were left cowering, curled away from the stranger approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Some blinked wide eyes while others scrambled back, all of them surrounded by smoke swirling around from the black scorches left behind from the blaster bolts.
“I think we win,” you said calmly, walking toward them slowly.
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” One rogue thief said, jumping to his feet, blaster aimed at you.
“I wouldn’t do that,” you warned, not even looking at him.
When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, he looked at his blaster in confusion, pulling the trigger a few more times before shaking it incessantly. “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “I have this.” He pulled a spare from the back of his pants.
In two seconds flat Din had stepped forward and shot him with a stun bolt, dropping him to the ground.
“Like I said,” you pulled the active blaster to you with the Force, disengaging the firing mechanism like you had the others before tucking it into the back of your own pants. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t need another one,” Din groaned. “That makes what, seven now?”
You scoffed. “Not nearly.” With a dry chuckle, you shook your head. “Try three.”
“Including the knife?”
“Oh, yeah! The knife. No, that’s four.”
“Guys!” Cara cried, walking up to stand on the other side of you. “Seriously?”
“What?” You looked at her a moment before cutting your eyes toward the thieves still looking on in silence. “I’m just recounting the weapons I’ve won from our various missions! I see something I like, I take it.”
“These guys don’t care.” Cara gestured to them with her blaster.
“No…. But I do.” You turned to look at the punks with a broad grin. “And something tells me they want to keep me really happy. Right?”
They all nodded vigorously. All but one. He got to his feet as he said, “Oh, kark this!” He was no sooner on his feet than Din had hit him with a stun bolt, dropping him into a heap of limbs where he stood.
“At least you remembered to use stun this time,” you threw over your shoulder towards Din, never looking away from the band of thieves still looking on wide eyed at your little party of four.
“Yeah…. But I’ve been known to forget things real fast,” Din mumbled, shifting his weight just slightly to rest easily on one leg. The way he held his blaster would make anyone think he’d gone soft, but you knew if someone made a wrong move, they’d be down in an instant.
“Here’s what's gonna happen,” Cara stepped forward, her Marshal voice in full swing. “Sola over here is out. I don’t wanna hear of any of you within spitting distance of her ever again, do you hear me?”
Most of them nodded, wide eyed at the Marshal. All but one. It’s always one, you thought with a smile and gentle shake of your head. 
“And what’re you gonna do about it? Marshal?” The way the punk said her name dripped with so much sarcasm and venom, you were surprised Cara was still standing. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now. “You don’t even live here, so how are you going to enforce anything?”
To his credit, he looked slightly afraid when you and Din took measured steps forward while Cara spoke.
“I have friends all over. I don’t think you want to find out just how far my reach can go…. Young man.”
Cara winced slightly on the last words and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing. The way her eyes darted over to you, however briefly, with a mighty rise and fall of her shoulders told you she knew she’d never hear the end of this.
He scoffed. “Like I’d believe any of that.”
“But you’d believe blaster bolts levitating in space then flying the wrong way?” You challenged, taking another small step forward. 
The kid scoffed again.
“You believe this?” Din was striding forward, his vambraces whirring to life as the flame thrower charged up.
Reaching out with the Force, you disengaged his vambrace as the wall of fire just started to lick at the toes of the boots of the insolent kid.
“Not now, Mando. I think he gets it.” Shooting your eyes over to the kid before looking back into his visor, you saw him glance over to find the teen cowering behind the others, mumbling apologies.
Din strode over to you, keeping his body facing the group of adolescents to make them think he was still a threat, which he was, but you knew him well enough to know he was looking at you now and not them, his head turned just slightly.
“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”
You shrugged. “What can I say? You shouldn’t be frying teenagers, Din. It’s not nice.”
Leaning closer to your ear, his voice hummed through the modulator, something in his tone different this time. “Later,” he promised again.
You grinned, winking at Cara as she rolled her eyes and walked off with an over dramatically gagging Sola. “Can’t wait.”
Xxx
Back at the hangar, the four of you tried to move as quietly as possible, to not wake a sleeping Peli. 
“I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how I could ever repay you-”
Placing your hand on Sola’s shoulder, you smiled down at her when her big eyes looked up your way. So much like the first time you met her all those years ago. “There’s nothing to thank. That’s just what families do.”
“We help each other,” Cara agreed, stepping up behind Sola and putting her arm around her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she added with a grin, “And yeah, sometimes we want to murder each other, too, but….” She looked at Din. “It comes and goes.”
“Mostly comes,” the Mandalorian muttered, adjusting his belt before walking off toward the ramp of the Crest. He stopped at the foot of it, withdrawing a vibroblade from his boot before he turned around and walked back. “Hey, kid.” He offered Sola the blade. “Take care of yourself.”
“You bet I will,” she mumbled around a grin, flipping the blade in her palm with expert precision that had your brow arching. Upon closer inspection, she saw a mudhorn upon the hilt. “That’s the same symbol that’s on your armor….” She looked over at your saber. “And your….” 
“Like I said,” you pulled her into a hug. “We take care of family.”
“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.
Din extended a blaster with a freshly etched mudhorn he had tucked into the back of his belt to Sola as he looked at Cara, head tilted just so. “Hidden with your act of valor. Go find it.”
“You’re mean,” Cara shoved his shoulder.
“You’d get tired of us anyway,” you mused in response to Cara, wrapping your arms around Din’s waist in what seemed an innocent manner, then lightly pinching his side in admonishment, smiling at his slight groan in response. Before he could get his own arm around your waist in retaliation, you pinned it to his side with the Force, smiling up at him smugly when he grunted in unamusement. 
“I already have,” she agreed, looking down her nose at the two of you.
“No you haven’t,” Din countered tiredly as he turned back toward the ship, heading up the ramp.
“What do you know?” She called after him.
“Everything!” His voice came from inside the ship overlapping your muttered, “Nothing.”
“Not enough,” you amended with a grin, meeting Cara’s eye as she returned your smile. “He doesn’t know nearly enough.”
“It’s a good thing I love teaching, then.” She laughed, offering you a hug before she turned to leave the hangar. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming kid?”
Sola hesitated in her spot in front of you. “But I don’t…. I don’t wear armor.”
“Verd'ika….” You reached out and rested your hand on her shoulder. “Ad’ika. Cyare'se. Daworir’ika. Ka’ra’ika…. Almost all of my nicknames for you had something to do with little.” (“Little soldier. Little one. Loved ones. Little stink. Little star.”)
“Not so little anymore.”
“I can see that,” you smiled softly. “Tal tomad.”
She pulled a face. “Do I even want to know?”
“Blood ally.” You reached out and pinched her scarf between your finger tips. “Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”
“What…. What does that mean?”
You smiled. “I need to come with a protocol droid….”  She laughed. “Warrior greater than armor. It means armor isn’t everything.” Moving your hand from her scarf to rest on her shoulder once again, you felt Din come to stand behind you, his reflection beginning to morph in Sola’s watering eyes. “It’s who wears it.” 
Xxx
As you watched Cara and Sola walk out of the hangar, Din pulled you to the side gently.
“Speaking of armor, you don’t have any now, either.”
Looking down at the armor still very much on your frame, you looked up at his visor and blinked at him once. Twice. “Excuse me?”
He shifted his weight, hands resting on his belt in his default I already explained this pose. “I’m about to meet up with Boba in a few minutes. Need the armor so I can give it to him.”
You matched his posture, ignoring his indignant head roll. “Oh right. For this super secret thing for me I can’t know about.”
Din nodded once. “You got it.”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned and made your way up the ramp of the Crest, not bothering to turn around as you grumbled, “You’re awful.”
“I know.” His tone was nothing short of beaming.
Xxx
The next day, the two of you were up with the suns and beginning work on the Crest with a handful of Peli’s droids. 
The woman herself had appeared after a while, but she obviously was not intended for morning hours.
Peli had disappeared into the shaded depths of the hangar, citing paperwork of some sort, but her snores could be heard from the main landing area. 
One thing led to another, and the work on the ship was forgotten in favor of brushing up on footwork with two chosen weapons.
The hanger sung with the clashing of beskar on kyber, his spear standing resilient against your purple blade.
The pit droids were hard at work on the Crest to try and cover up the cacophony of battle sounds rising up into the air.
As it hit a new fever pitch, you and Din drawing close together after some particularly fancy footwork, the glow of kyber straining against beskar painting your faces in a soft illuminated glow as you pulled closer still, you smirked. 
“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”
Din scoffed, his modulator popping with the sound. “Nayc. A’nuhunla,” he drawled, his voice low. (“No. But funny.”)
Pulling back from one another, you huffed out a chuckle as you began to circle each other in assessment, waiting for the other to make the next move. “Give it to me in Basic, Mando.” Disengaging your saber, you stopped dead in your tracks, arms dangling limply by your sides. “I’m too tired to fight and translate at the same time.”
“Gar Jetii’kad,” Din pointed to the now bladeless hilt in your hand. “Nau’ur kad.” (“Your lightsaber.”) (“Light up a saber.”) 
“Din-”
But he didn’t let you finish, his hands tightening around his spear as his weight lowered, ready to charge. “Kad’au, Jetii.” (“Lightsaber, Jedi.”)
“Ne'johaa,” you mumbled, igniting the blade and lowering yourself into a ready stance to match. (“Shut up.”)
Once you were set, you stood straight up again, smiling softly when Din let his lowered weight relax as well in aggravation, his modulator hissing in annoyance. “This was just supposed to be for fun. Some training, maybe. Not-”
“Kad,” he almost barked, before launching at you. (“Saber.”)
“Mir’sheb,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you blocked an overhead blow from his spear, squinting your eyes as sparks flew from the impact. (“Smartass.”)
He took a minuscule step closer, pressing his weight into you and making you bend back slightly. His voice was low and mocking, but strained to show his struggle against your strength as you continued to push back. “Only for you.”
With a shout, you pushed him off of you with a last reserve of strength.
“That’s it. That’s it. I’m done.” You held your hands up by your head. “No more.” Twirling your saber as you stretched your wrist, you tilted your head from side to side. “You’ve got some unresolved issues with only using the stun back there at the hideout or something,” gesturing to him with a swooping hand gesture, you ignored his snort and slight shift of weight, “but I’m done with all your nonsense.” Turning away you took a deep breath and disengaged your saber, mumbling under your breath, “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.” (“I want a bucket of booze.”)
The next thing you knew you were flat on your back, sand flying out around you as the Mandalorian stood over you, flipping his spear back to its resting position with a flourish. All you could process as you blinked up at the cloudless sky was heat, grit, and what?
“I think that means I win…. Manda Jetii.” (The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit.)
Eyes flying to his visor, you had to squint at the glare of the suns off the brilliant metal. You could only blink up at him, taking his hand when he offered it and helped you up. After a shared moment of simply staring at one another, he turned to survey the hangar, repeating your words from earlier. “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.”
It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face. 
Her very, very, very distraught face. 
Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?
A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought. 
If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.
The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.
“We don’t murder innocent droids.”
“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit. 
“They are until proven guilty.”
“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”
“You have nothing.”
Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you. 
“No.”
Peli somehow materialized beside you, everything about her bewildered and distraught. You let the two arguing tin cans go as you turned your attention to your friend, the final zap from the droid to Din’s thigh before it rolled off not going unnoticed. 
Pointing every which way with each new statement, Peli began to protest. “I was- They were- You just-” Her hands slapped down to her sides, her face pulled determinedly. “That’s not fair!”
She turned to her pit droid crew. “Why do I get all the defective droids in this town?” They began to prattle but she cut them off. “You guys couldn’t fix the wrong side of a bantha.”
Reaching out with your mind, a twitch of your foot sideways ever so slightly, and one of the compartments at the back of the Crest flew off, the wiring inside plopping out like the ship had drunk too much spotchka the night before and now had something to prove.
“It’s alright, Peli. It wasn’t all you.”
“You bet your beskar it wasn’t!” She turned a look on Din. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that massive spear sticking out of the side of my ship.”
Din had the decency to look sheepish, turning his gaze to stare across the hangar, hands on his hips.
“Now I’ll have to track down the Jawas to find enough ancient parts to fix this hunk of junk.” She smacked the hull closest to her with her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as a panel fell off to her right with a clatter.
Leveling her gaze on you, a shudder ran down your spine as Peli stared at you in silence. Finally she spoke again. “You. You’re going to help.”
“And you,” she pointed at Din. He pointed at himself in question and she nodded, maintaining the accusing jab of her index. “Yes, you. Mandalorian.” Din tilted his head curiously. “You are going to go to the cantina to look for a job to pay for all of…. this!”
Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her. 
You winced at the singe marks left behind by your saber, beside the puncture mark from the spear as it had let loose from his hands and flown across the hangar. Its beskar body still stood proudly from the hull, glinting in the afternoon sun.
Reaching up high above her head, Peli jerked it from the body of the ship with a grating screech of metal on metal. Green goo began to shoot from the new opening, coating the sand of the hangar around her feet in several inches in a matter of seconds.
She looked down at it before bringing menacing eyes up to glare at Din.
“I’ll be at the cantina,” he mumbled, turning to leave without anymore fuss.
“I’ll…. Be here, I guess,” you mumbled, catching Peli’s death stare out of the corner of your eye. “Pick me up some of those blue cookies on your way back?”
“Really?” Din stopped, cocking his head at you.
“Yeah!” You shot back. “The kid isn’t here, so I don’t have to share them.”
“Who says I don’t want some?”
You scoffed. “Experience.” Crossing your arms, you stared at him. “Besides, who says I’m sharing regardless?”
Din took a step back toward you, his voice lowering playfully. “I could make you….”
“Cantina!” Peli hissed.
You’d never seen Din move so quickly.
Xxx
Peli had dragged you out to the large rolling fortress of the Jawas after she had given her pit droid crew a stern talking to. 
You couldn’t make eye contact with them as you stood just behind her and listened to her admonishments. Their judgmental stares from their single ocular lenses could be felt even across the hangar. 
Looking over the wares, you were just glad Din wasn’t here. Jawas would be dropping like flies if he were. He really had a problem.
Bringing your scarf up to cover your face, wrapping it around your head to keep it secure and protect you just a layer more from the suns beating down and sand blowing in the rough winds, you squinted at an old astromech tucked away in the back near the ramp.
“What about that one?” You asked, pointing to it.
The little hooded figure helping you turned, exclaiming something when he realized what you were asking about, then began talking a mile a minute and gesturing even faster.
Holding up your hands, you cut in, “Yeah, yeah, hold on little guy,” your new Jawa friend grunted at the name as you turned to call for help. “Peli! Get over here!” Waving your hand to gesture her over, you hoped it’d help her find you a bit faster.
You saw her curls before you saw her, turning your way and quickly weaving through the junk as her grumbling got closer and closer, but the exact words were never quite clear enough to understand. “What?” She finally asked in exasperation when she was about ten feet away, a power coupling in one hand and…. Something else in the other, you didn’t know what it was, but it had a lot of exposed wires and reminded you of an eyeball on a stick.
Pointing to your little robed shadow, you smiled at her. “Translate. Please.”
With a roll of her eyes, she focused on your small companion, nodding as he went along. “He says you want that R2 unit.” She turned her focus back to you, hands on her hips, eye on a stick still tightly grasped in one hand, “Any particular reason? I have plenty of good droids back at the hangar….” R5 started tweeting and blipping in concern, making her roll her whole head over to look at the droid on her left. “Oh, keep your dome on. I didn’t mean you.” She gestured to the droid with the eye-stick lazily before her eyes cut over to you. “Unless….” R5 let out a mighty whoop before rolling away.
Chirping and blooping from the R2 unit pulled your attention back to the matter at hand, watching in amusement as it rocked from side to side quickly on two of its three legs. Its shiny dome twisted back and forth as it let out shrill beeps and whistles, a lone raspberry cutting off the tirade before it focused on a Jawa coming up to stand beside it. 
As the tiny cloaked figure reached out to adjust the restraining bolt on its front, one of the droid’s front compartments sprung open in the blink of an eye, a surge of electricity arcing through the air and making the Jawa scream. The little scrapper jumped back, stumbling as its cloak began to smoke, strings of Jawaese getting lost in the wind as the tiny thief marched back over to the droid and swiftly kicked it near its treads.
“Stop!” You ran over, holding up your hands to try and intervene, turning to Peli with a pleading look on your face.
She tossed the junk in her hands onto the ground, doing a double take for the eye on a stick before deciding against it and made her way over to you, thrusting the odd part into your chest as she passed by. With a roll of your eyes, you tucked it into the bag of parts to make its way back to the hangar that was slung across your shoulders. 
The bag was over half full, and getting heavier by the minute, but you’d yet to see anything resembling a part you recognized go into the satchel. At this point you think ninety five percent of what she had picked up wasn’t even for the Crest, she was just exacting her revenge on Din. And you had no problem with that.
Peli tilted her head as she listened to the Jawa go on a tirade. Eyes flickering between the tiny robe with eyes and the droid, she finally looked back over her shoulder at you. “He said this droid is just a problem. It’s memory hasn’t been wiped in too long, so it’s developed an…. Ah, well,” she quirked her eyebrows, her hands landing on her hips as she studied the droid. “A strong personality.”
The R2 unit blooped before zapping the Jawa again, a warbling whistle following after in what almost sounded like a taunt for more.
“Stop,” you said again, taking another step toward the feisty astromech. It was very hard to not smile as you studied the round dome, its light blinking red and white at you rapidly as it scanned you up and down, finding something it trusted enough to calm down. It didn’t zap a third time, but it kept the utility equipped, sending a surge down the line when the Jawa got too close again as a warning.
It reminded you of Din. It even kind of looked like him. You had to really try to contain the smile as you thought of his reaction if you said that out loud.
The head tilt.
The finger.
“Later.”
The body was the typical white of most R2 units, though obviously worn and aged, some pockets of rust peeking through here and there along the edge, along with carbon scoring like it’d seen some firefights. With a darker silver dome, close to the color of your vambraces, you could tell it had received repairs along the line, the contrasting metals denoting different eras in its lifetime. 
The bands along its body that contained the attachments and along the sides of its legs were a warm coppery color, while the panels along its head were a dark gunmetal gray that reminded you of the Crest. 
Altogether it was a patchwork of parts, but it made something beautiful to you. Like when the suns hit the sand just right and caused a reflection in the distance. This droid was a mirage, a shadow.
“What’s wrong with it?” You interrupted the Jawa currently on another tirade that made Peli look like she was struggling to keep up. Getting down on one knee, still a good distance from the droid, you stared into its lense as it studied you once again.
Your friend turned to face you more fully. “What do you mean, they just told you. It hasn’t-”
“No, why hasn’t it moved?”
Peli asked the question, turning to look at the droid as she listened to the answer, its lense now turned on her.
“He said the tread on the right foot is broken. They have it out here because someone is coming to pick it up to wipe the memory. Its-”
“Not anymore,” you said quietly. “It’s coming with me.” Getting to your feet, you began to walk away, stopping when several Jawa voices began to follow after you, each more insistent than the other. You looked at Peli, brow raised in question.
“They say you can’t do that. It’s already a done deal. Now they’re asking if you want any of the other droids, they have an-”
You turned, looking at the gathering of red glowing eyes blinking up at you expectantly. Keeping your voice even, you made eye contact with each pair as you spoke. “You will release the droid into my care.”
A string of Jawaese was mumbled back to you, which you assumed was just them repeating your words, so you went on.
“Remove the restraining bolt, load it in the speeder, and let us go on our way.”
As they mumbled again, they broke off into groups to do what you said. 
Tapping the leader on the shoulder, you held firmly when he turned to look at you. “And it won’t cost anything.”
He nodded before going to join the others.
“How did you….” Peli’s voice dripped with amazement. “Can you-”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me-”
“No, Peli.”
“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms and facing the Jawas as they loaded the droid who whistled happily while they worked. “I’m just saying-”
She stopped when you slowly turned to look at her, brow arched.
“Yeah, no, forget about it. Not important.”
Xxx
As you unloaded the droid at the hangar, once it was down on the ground, you knelt down slowly to inspect its injured foot. 
“I’m just going to tilt you a little bit to get a better look, okay?”
The pit droids began lowering some type of harness down to help you, but the droid began to rock back and forth, protesting loudly as its dome swung back and forth.
“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands placatingly, gesturing for the other droids to stop. “No lifts. I’ll do it myself, but you’ve got to trust me. It’ll feel a little strange, but you’re completely safe, I promise. Alright?”
The droid bleeped in agreement after a moment of hesitation, and without further hassle, you nudged it slowly onto its side, floating at the proper angle, held just right by an unseen force. As it moved into the proper placement, the R2 unit blooped an amazed sound.
After poking at the tread for a moment, you wrinkled your brows. “This isn’t broken. What did they mea-”
You were cut short when the tread on the other foot whirred to life where it still rested on the ground, spitting sand in your face in a rapid fire. As you drew back quickly, swatting at the sting settling into your eyes, you just caught a glimpse through your squint of the droid falling the rest of the way to the ground with a screech, your concentration broken.
Before you could really react properly, the R2 unit had popped upright, all manner of Binary curses and colorful language beeping and whistling as it whipped out the zapper it had used earlier on the Jawa, sending a warning jolt down the spine while rotating in a circle to keep all the advancing droids and Peli at bay. 
Then it started to lift off with some sort of propulsion, a victorious squeal echoing off the hangar walls that was all too soon followed by the sound of sputtering exhaust. Its lense pointed down, watching it all unfold, a quiver of fear warbled out of its voice box. The flames keeping it afloat flickered then died, sending it hurtling to the ground with a scream.
You were just able to stick out a hand, focusing enough to catch it inches from the ground. “I got you!” As you lowered it the last few millimeters back onto the sand, you let out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the warm earth beneath you with a quietly muttered, “I got you.”
“Well, that was a first,” Peli announced loudly, amused, as the R2 unit looked at you, a spurt of oil suddenly spewing onto the ground as it moaned in distress.
“It’s about right on track for me, honestly,” you huffed, laughing as you got back to your feet. 
The droid quaked as you got closer, worried coos softly filling the hangar.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you spoke softly, coming back onto your knees a few feet from the R2 unit. “That was actually kind of impressive.” You smirked, watching as the trembling stopped. The droid was silent and you smiled a bit broader. “I would expect nothing less, honestly. It’s what I would do in your situation. Hell, I have done it a few times….” The droid whistled softly in amusement.
You laughed, feeling victorious when it wheeled a bit closer to you.
“I have, too. I live a very extraordinary life, my friend.”
A questioning bloop.
“Yes, I said ‘friend’. I consider you that, not anything less.”
A series of beeps and whistles, the red light blinking much more slowly now.
“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”
A raspberry.
You laughed, and it was followed by the closest sound a droid can make to the sound, a series of trills.
“Can we start over?” 
The droid wheeled closer, bumping its front foot into your knee gently before wheeling back slightly as if to say, ‘go on’.
You introduced yourself, reaching a hand out toward the droid. A panel sprung open on its front, the zapper coming out without a charge, making you arch a brow at the unit as it tittered playfully. The panel closed before another opened, and a small three pronged metal hand extended, closing around two of your fingers and shaking them in jerky movements as it beeped and blooped away.
“R2-B4?” The droid whistled in confirmation, releasing your fingers and closing the panel. “Can I just call you Bee?” A beep that sounded like ‘yes’ and also meant ‘yes’ in Binary chirped happily, filling the hangar. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee. How about we get you tuned up, into a nice hot oil bath, run a few diagnostics to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be, then starting tomorrow we can-”
Some angry bloops and bleeps filled the air, while she rocked back and forth on her feet.
“No, no, no! No memory wipe! That’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stopped rocking, but her lense scanned you up and down rapidly, her light flashing between red and white faster than you had seen yet. “You don’t know me yet, so I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to do that to you. That won’t happen so long as you are here. With me. With us. That makes you you. I don’t want just a droid, I want you, Bee.”
Reaching out your hand, you rested it lightly on her dome and an affectionate beep came out quietly.
“I just meant to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be. You deserve it, friend.”
It was at this point Din came walking back into the hangar. He stopped short when he saw the new astromech snuggled up so closely with you, the disarray of the hangar floor with the spilled oil and obvious scuffle, and Peli with her army of droids behind her and new eyeball on a stick waving around animatedly as she greeted him with a smile.
“Mando! Finally!” She walked toward him. “You will not believe the day we’ve had.”
The look Din leveled on you through his visor was nothing short of stifling. “Try me.”
Xxx
Once Din had calmed down enough to not shoot the new droid on sight, and Bee had calmed down enough to not zap the Mandalorian on sight, you sat down to explain the situation to Din as the astro unit underwent an oil bath.
“I don’t know, Man- Din.” You pulled a face at yourself as he chuckled at the slip up. “It just felt like I was supposed to, and she….” You looked straight into his visor. “The voices stopped when I saw her. Everything did. I don’t know.” Looking down to the table top to your right, you began to fiddle your fingers aimlessly. “I swear you won’t have to-”
“Okay.”
“Now don’t just- what?” You shook your head to dislodge any sand that may be plugging your ears and causing you to mishear because you could have sworn he said…. “Okay? ….Okay? Did you just say okay?”
Din laughed softly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”
Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward onto your knees, getting closer to him and peering up with scrutiny for an agonizing minute. “What did you do?”
Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, he rested his hand on his thigh. “Got you a present.” His head tilted to the side as you sat up a bit straighter. “Still gonna look at me like that?”
Eyes going wide, you sat back and matched his posture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said with a snort. “I met up with Boba last night, as you know, and after going to the cantina, he caught up to me with the finished product.”
Din reached over and pulled a tarp off a crate to his right, how you’d missed it you had no idea, especially since the item before your eyes still sang with the same signature as his armor had. 
A jetpack.
Raw beskar and durasteel glinted under the twin suns, polished to perfection and ready to earn their first scuff marks.
“Din…. No.” You looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
Reaching for the pack, he groaned slightly with the effort, sighing once it sat in his lap. “I couldn’t look at you in that horribly fitting armor one more time, and it was just taking up space on the ship.” He set the heavy gift in your lap. “Now I don’t have to lug you around anymore.”
Scoffing, you leaned in closer to him, batting your lashes. “Don’t lie, you like lugging me around.”
He tossed his head side to side. “It has its perks, yes, but now….” He gently nudged you back with a finger to your shoulder so you were sitting normally in your seat again. “Lift yourself, mesh’la.”
Sitting up straight as you held the jetpack in your lap, you traced its curves with your hand. “I don’t know whether to be offended or say thank you.”
Meeting the gaze of his visor through your lashes, he simply nodded.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Now, let’s get you fitted and flying - but first, I have to sync them with your vambraces, or else you might-”
“Let me guess,” you sighed, relaxing back into your chair with a thump. “Or else I might blow something up?” Din nodded once in confirmation, and you mirrored him. “Some things never change.”
“And some things change all the time….”
“Well that was cryptic.”
“Fennec found a contact for me that might know where the Armorer is. Where the covert moved to.”
Your eyes went wide and you froze, halfway to attaching the jetpack between your shoulder blades. “Excuse me, what?”
“It’s a job, but I head there in two rotations-”
Your face fell flat, along with your tone. “Excuse me, what?”
“Are you broken?” You arched a brow in question at him. “You haven’t moved since I mentioned the Armorer and you’re repeating yourself.”
With a huff of disbelief, you let the jetpack to the ground beside you with a gentle thud, and faced him once again. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re insane?!”
“Excuse me, what?”
“See?” You gestured to him. “A perfectly valid reaction.” Din huffed, his head tilting to the side in annoyance as you went on. “First off I was excited for you, but then you go and say something crazy like you’re going alone?”
“Well I just assumed….”
“Go on,” you deadpanned, smiling slightly when he trailed off, swallowing roughly.
When he never did, you sighed heavily and forged on for the both of you. “Since I’m your wife,” you began, eyes cast down to the sand, ignoring the way he tossed his head back with a groan, “I think it’s only right I go with you.” You looked up to meet his visor. “Not to mention I continue to save your skin daily.”
“One time. I….” He held up one finger. “That was. I let that slip one time with Peli and it was an accident.” He huffed, staring at you for a long moment. “You're never going to let me forget that are you?”
You grinned. “No.”
Xxx
The two of you landed at the front of Peli’s hangar when you saw an unknown droid approaching in the street from where you were training in the air.
“Oh! Pardon me!” The courier droid raised its hands up in surrender. 
Reaching out, you lowered Din’s blaster. “You have a problem,” you mumbled. “You need to ask questions first, shoot later.”
Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”
“Well, maybe you need to upgrade your circuitry, Tin Can.”
Both Din and the courier looked at you.
“Beg your pardon, miss, but that is a Mandalorian, not a droi-”
You couldn’t help your snort of laughter. “What’s the message?”
“Oh. Yes.” The droid reached into a bag fastened to its hip. “You have a holo from a Greef Karga? It’s marked sensitive/eyes only. I suggest you watch it someplace private.” Leaning around to look behind you into the vacant hangar, the only other soul being R5 rolling past with an offensive blip, the droid then looked back at the two of you. “Or just stay here.”
Taking the device from the droid with a smile, you were surprised when it didn’t just leave.
It reached back into the satchel and procured another device. A puck. And handed it to Din.
“What’s this?” The Mandalorian asked dryly, looking at the small device in the droid's hand as if it were the most confusing puzzle in the galaxy.
“Courtesy of Greef Karga…. once again.” When Din made no effort to move, the droid looked between the two of you. “They go together. I assume they offer some explanation. Otherwise, I have nothing to tell you about them.”
Din sighed, taking the puck and shutting the hangar door before the droid could say another word.
A muffled, “Oh. Well, good day, then!” Came through before the retreat of mechanical footsteps was heard.
“That was rude!” You mumbled, turning to go deeper into the hangar, but freezing when you saw the info spinning above the puck in Din’s hand. 
No.
No it couldn’t be.
Quickly activating the comm, you let Karga explain what you already feared.
“If you’re playing this message, you’ve already opened the puck. Yes. I know. I was just as shocked, too.”
There, in letters as big as day was your name.
“It was issued by the head of some small town crime group on Tatooine. Said you decimated their numbers yesterday?”
Din grunted. “Nobody died. What do they mean decimated?”
“I’m not issuing the puck to anyone, but be on the lookout. It could make things…. Difficult.”
The comm went dead, and all you could do was stare at the puck in Din’s hand, the info being presented to you but truly not being absorbed as all you could do was watch and blink.
The puck displayed your picture, slowly spinning with all your details next to it. 
Name: Eesra Kesyk
Last known location: Tatooine
Known associates: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Peli Motto, Sola Kei, Cara Dune, Greef Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan Kryze, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker
Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan, Luke, Ahsoka? For some small time group on Tatooine, they had really gone out of their way to find info on you….
Your gut sank. 
Unless….
You shook your head. There’s no way this went beyond a small town crime lord on a backwater planet. No way.
Focusing back in on the list, you squinted to read the fine print it was in to have everything fit on the little readout.
The rest was just details, date of birth, previous work…. reason for bounty.
“Are they serious?”
Unlawful use of star cruiser in restricted airspace, failure to comply with law enforcement, breaking and entering, damage to public property, battery and assault….
Din thought this was all very funny. He was practically giggling by now, snorts of laughter trickling out of his modulator as he stood to your right.
He’d tried to stop under your glare, he really did, but it just wasn’t possible, little snickers escaping here and there. 
“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”
He did this from time to time. Brought up his little misstep with Peli where he’d called you his wife, leaning fully into the absurdity and embracing the silliness you often tried to pelt at him mercilessly by saying it himself first.
Rolling your eyes, but unable to contain the small grin climbing up your face,  you looked back at the puck and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “You knew what you were getting yourself into, Tin Can.” Tilting your head at the readout, you pursed your lips. “And we’re not actually married, no matter what you said to Peli. You’re not ready for all of this.” Making a swooping gesture to yourself, you ignored his mocking snort of amusement. 
You stared at the list for another loaded minute of silence before going on. “Besides, half of these aren’t even true!” Gesturing to the list with one hand, you turned to look up at his visor, brows raised. “Unlawful use of starcruiser…. When did we even leave the planet?”
He was still chuckling warmly as he turned to you. “Did I? Know what I was getting into, I mean? I don’t know about that, mesh’la.” His chuckle grew louder as your face fell into unamusement. “And are you sure? Only half?”
Turning to face him fully, you raised one hand to wag a finger in his face teasingly. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps coming back.”
Pulling you into his arms, he hummed contentedly. “And I always will come back to you.”
Copying his hum of satisfaction, you reached up and grabbed his cowl like always, tucking your face into the fabric and taking a deep breath before turning to the side to look at the holo once again with a sigh.
“They got my name wrong, though.”
“Did they?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you smiled. “Eesra Djarin of Clan Mudhorn…. That’s so much better, don’t you think?”
He groaned softly. “I-”
Bleep!
Din grunted in mild annoyance as Bee rolled up the ramp, stopping beside the two of you and trilling animatedly. “Not now, Scrap.”
Bee let out as close to a matching grunt of displeasure a droid could make, flipped out the electrified arm on her front, and waved it at Din in warning. 
“See? This is why I don’t like droids,” Din grumbled.
Rolling forward bit by bit, backtracking just slightly in between, she pried her way into the small amount of space between the two of you, making you step back just slightly to make room.
“Well, hello there,” you mused quietly to the metallic dome whose lense was looking up at you, smiling back at the tiny bloop in greeting. “May I help you?”
She babbled away in Binary animatedly, charged hand still extended toward Din in warning as she rolled ever so slightly closer towards you, tilting forward just a bit and causing Din to grunt as the forward motion pushed the bottom of her housing into his shin guards with a ping.
“I’m sure R5 didn’t say all that. What are you getting at?”
More beeps and whistles, this time containing squeals as her lense switched between red and white rapidly, almost faster than her sounds, as she animatedly continued her story.
“Wow,” you finally said when the droid stopped, staring at you expectantly.
“What did she say?” Din tilted his head at you.
“No idea.” You looked up into his visor. “All I caught was something something BD said and then Peli, Jawas….”
Both of you started to chuckle softly, Bee looking between you as she rotated her dome back and forth, a bloop of disappointment before a raspberry of annoyance, and you couldn’t shake the growing grin on your face if you wanted to.
After a moment she reached out just a little further and zapped Din with the electrified arm, tittering a laugh as she rolled away at speed as Din chased after her after crying out in pain. “Ow! Get back here, you rolling scrap heap!”
Crossing your arms, you leaned against the opening of the ramp to the Crest, and watched the scene unfold in Peli’s hangar.
Droids, a mechanic, and a Mandalorian all running in circles after a goal you weren’t quite sure of. All that was clear was Din was losing.
You were home, with the people you loved.
Looking to the side, you saw the bunk of the Crest open, the child’s hammock still strung across the top. The corners of your mouth pulled slightly down.
Well, almost everyone.
You were a clan of three.
No, it was more than that.
You were also a family.
And someday, you’d all be back together again.
Someday soon.
You’d find a way to bring it all back to you.
Adjusting your weight slightly, you bumped something on your vambraces in the process causing the jetpack between your shoulder blades beginning to whir with an increasing hum. Flames began to sputter at its base with a growing roar, sending a wall of heat down the backs of your thighs as it prepared to lift you into the skies once again.
“Din?” You called, quietly at first, staring over your shoulder at the new death trap strapped to your spine, then more urgently, “Din!”
He was already jogging up the ramp toward you, his posture easy and relaxed. “Calm down.”
A quick glance behind him showed an amused Peli and her circus of droids, all of them tittering in amusement. Bee rocked back and forth in glee at the foot of the ramp before rolling back to the others. 
“Calm down?” You repeated in bewilderment, watching him disengage the jetpack from your vambrace with a single button push, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Calm down?!” He began to chuckle, his hand skimming up the inside of your forearm to lightly grab your elbow and push you further into the ship as you went on. “I was almost a flying projectile and you-”
You hadn’t noticed the way he’d nudged you backwards completely out of sight of the rest of the hangar until your spine sealed along the bulkhead by the weapons locker, the lights of the cargo hold going to half brightness with a deft swipe of his hand over a control pad to your left. 
Half, but still plenty bright to see.
“Din?”
Taking in your new surroundings, you looked back up to see him taking his gloves off and tucking them in his belt. His helmet came next, the quiet hiss of the mechanism causing you to screw your eyes shut. The familiar sound of beskar thunking onto the metal floor of the Crest made them close even tighter.
Din chuckled softly, the unmodulated sound tickling your face with his warm breath. “Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
“Oh, yeah.” Slowly you blinked your eyes open, looking up to see warm brown eyes, and the sweetest smile waiting to meet you. “I still forget.”
Winding your hands up into the curls at the base of his head, you smirked when he let out a contented sigh through his nose. 
After a moment of simply holding the other’s gaze, you muttered quietly, “Hello, brown eyes.”
Din was on you in an instant, his groan of annoyance muffled against your lips as you laughed softly into the kiss. 
“You always have to ruin it,” he mumbled, crowding you further into the wall, his bare hands coming to cradle your face and making your eyes slip shut at the contact. “Nu-uh. Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
Fluttering them open, you tried very hard to keep them that way. “Sorry. It’s not every day a Mandalorian is half naked in front of me. I’ll try harder.”
“Half naked?” He tilted his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours, one brow arching up in question. 
“For you, a helmet and gloves is the equivalent of a-”
Din was back on you again, this time growling in mock frustration against your lips as you laughed a bit louder. The upturn of his lips gave his amusement away, though.
Pulling apart just enough that only your foreheads rested against one another, the two of you held that moment together for quite a while. Simply breathing the other in, and existing in this quiet moment before the storm. 
Before you left to find more Mandalorians. 
More Mandalorians. 
Now that was going to be interesting. 
After a moment, you rolled your head to the side slightly and peeked up through your lashes to find his eyes closed.
You opened your mouth to speak, only for you both to speak in tandem, “Open your eyes.”
“I will if you will,” you were quick to retort.
Warm brown eyes met yours once again as the setting suns’ light poured in through the open ramp somewhere behind him, painting the cargo hold of the Crest in vibrant shades of gold, orange and red.
Din smiled softly, pressing his forehead further into yours, using his hands at your cheeks to maneuver your head back a bit and into a better angle for him to lean his forehead into. “Only for you.” His fingers began to move up and thread into your hair. “Always for you.” It was hard to tell where he stopped and you began. “Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” He pressed his forehead even further into yours, his lips ghosting over your own with each word. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)
“Gar cuyi ner yaim. Ner yaim'ol. Ner yaim'la.” The light of the day was fading, much the same as the two of you were melding into one another, practically becoming one being, all his hard edges blurring where your soft lines began. The Crest began to fill with long shadows as the lights in Peli’s hangar kicked on, filling the cargo hold with just enough extra light to see. (“You are my home. My homecoming. My comfortable.”)
Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hand, and he melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your palm, his voice a low rumble. “Ni ratiin yaimpar gar.” (“I always return to you.”)
In the quiet moment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek bone slowly back and forth before finally whispering with a smile, “Open your eyes.”
Once he was looking at you once again, you pulled your head back just a bit and tilted it to the side. “So, where are we going to find the covert?”
He went stiff. “We?”
You sighed, laying your head on his pauldron. “It’s been how long, and you still haven’t learned that I’m always going to come with you?”
Din looked at you with a matching sigh. He tilted his head at you, his weight shifted to one leg, his hands on your waist moving you along with him. “You sometimes stay here when I go out on a job and help Peli work on the ship. It’s almost done after what Gideon tried to do- er, it was until today.”
“Exactly. So after this last massacre, I don’t think Peli wants to see my face around here anymore,” you laughed, making him shake his head and let out a huff of laughter. “I think Boba would give us a lift to wherever.”
“And then how do we get back?”
You smiled as you closed the small space between you, speaking softer as the situation began to feel more delicate. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Why are your ideas usually half baked or somehow involve fire?”
You closed the distance between you yet again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, and pressing your forehead into his. “And yet they always work….”
“You get lucky sometimes,” he groused half heartedly before he returned the gesture, a warm ungloved hand spread across your back, the other moving up to the back of your head to tuck your face securely into the crook of his neck.
You weren’t about to pull away as he held you there gently. Turning your face towards him where it rested on his shoulder, your nose brushed against his neck, and his grip grew tighter. Glancing up towards his face, you thought back to a time in the bar when this all started when all you could see before the helmet obstructed your view was a small sliver of skin that bobbed as he swallowed roughly. 
Now you had an unobstructed view….
….Of unruly dark curls long overdue for a trim….
….Golden skin dusted with a light facial hair that had the slightest hint of grays peppered in….
….Kind, warm brown eyes that looked at you with so many promises….
….A nose that had definitely been broken once or twice….
….And a smile that took your breath away.
You turned your head up fully towards his face as you pulled away just enough to look at him straight on, and he turned his gaze down to meet you with a slightly playful tilt of his head like before.
“I’m just that good.” Your hands fell to rest on his chest plate. “Now let’s go find your people.”
“Let’s go find our people,” he corrected.
With a gentle nod, you pulled away slowly after a moment, turning towards the ramp with wide eyes as what just happened sunk in.
Our people.
Din walked past you, looking over his shoulder once he was on the ramp. “Are you coming?”
Our people. 
Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw he had stopped, helmet back on, gloves securely fastened, and every bit the Mandalorian you had met all those years ago, only now he stood waiting for you, hand outstretched in invitation.
Mine.
You smiled, walking forward and taking his hand. “Moff Gideon couldn’t keep me away.”
Xxx
Yes, I gave her a name. Eesra Kesyk. (Ee-sruh Keh-sick) Let’s face it, Mesh’la is still what’s going to be used 99.999999% of the time, and “you” the majority of the rest. But we’re going into a part of the story with a whole lot of other new players and I wanted to have something to call the reader besides “you” and nicknames. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m sorry. But, it’s my story, and that’s what I chose to do. I have a plan, so if you’ll bear with me, thank you, and I hope we can see it through together. ❤️ Plus, Din still just calls her *sigh* or “stop it!” 99% of the time, so…. 🤭
Xxx
Tags to come!
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teddynivvy · 2 days
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i’m nothing if not a sucker for ted fluff
i know you wrote about sleepy morning ted but imagine like after you get out of bed and just being in each other’s presence 💕 imagine hugging him from behind it sounds so comfy
anon i will literally never not write about sleepy ted bc he lives rent free in my head!
a rainy sunday morning in LA. no plans of any kind for the entire day, just soft rain pattering against the window as you both sleep in, enveloped in one another
ted finally stirs, noticing your sleeping form and smiling to himself before deciding to kiss your forehead and face to wake you up
you'd protest by pushing him away gently, which causes him to just pull you in closer and pet your hair, which makes you open one eye and groan at him
"why are you waking me up at the crack of dawn on a sunday?"
"it's 11, babe."
you huffed. "oh."
after a little while just cuddling in bed, basking in his warmth, you finally pulled the covers off and rubbed your eyes to make your way to the kitchen together
wearing one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, he cant help but blush at how gorgeous you look
"waffles?" he'd ask, and you'd nod enthusiastically while getting the coffee ready
even tho he was busy preparing breakfast and cooking away at the stove, he still took the time to come up behind you and pepper your back and neck with kisses
you'd grab around his middle and lay your head against his broad back, putting your hands down the front of his pajama pants and up to touch his lil tummy :')
"you're so warm and comfy... why'd you make me get out of bed again?"
he'd just huff, putting a few of the fresh waffles on a plate and pushing it over to you. "we'd lay in bed all day and do nothing."
you'd step in front of him, a coy smile on your face as you played with the hem of his shirt and looked into his eyes
"what if i wanna do that?"
he just laughed, taking a strawberry from the bowl behind you and popping the cut-up piece into his mouth
"we can do that. but i wanted waffles first."
you ate breakfast together cuddled on the couch, watching an episode of your favourite tv show
once you took the time to clean up after, he lead you back upstairs to your room, where you cracked the window slightly to let in the sounds of the rain and put on a movie
but it wasn't long before you fell back to sleep in each other's arms :)
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beartitled · 16 hours
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Can you do some more comics with Francis mosses
I can, but the problem is
That I’m pretty much out of ideas and I’m progressively getting tired of tnmn fandom
Ppl who look at my tags probably noticed that 😓
More of my thoughts under read more for curious ppl
(short answer maybe I will do more, but I desperately need a break from tnmn)
! Just a general warning: this came out kinda long + sort of venty
Originally I planned to do 1 comic drop and move on, but got stuck bc ppl liked tnmn comics and kept asking for more (and still do-)
Generally I don’t mind doing more if the ideas are there, but I want to address this: I’m tired
I know blowing up is usually a good thing and I appreciate people enjoying my stuff
But it’s exhausting to see that tnmn is the only type of content which is relevant, to the point that my own projects or stuff I enjoy are just kinda.. ignored
It’s fair – again my blog is heavily fandom based
(+Tsp were and still is kinda the focus)
But with tnmn fandom it’s a bit… different
Maybe I’m biased and it’s just my negative experience with tiktok comments
Remember this art?
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cleaning up transphobic comments was.. um tough
Again, I get that you can’t be in that neat bubble completely sheltered from negativity
Humans are just assholes by nature really/j
So I was expecting the backlash, but not that much
I think maybe tsp fandom spoiled me a bit (in a good way), bc I got a feeling that everyone in tsp was positive of any lgbt+ headcanons and just generally more supportive
(don’t get me wrong, there ARE problems in tsp community too, taking narrators design controversy into account as one of the examples)
Obviously every fandom always has it’s own issues, show me at least one fandom that didn’t have some sort of meaningless controversy or some sort of problematic people in it
It happens
But it leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes
And for me personally it only added to not so pleasant experience
The thing I also noticed, when I interacted with other fandoms
Ppl wrote positive stuff first and foremost, not really asking for anything
Here it’s just “hey more. I want more. Do more. Do this character. Do this. Do more.”
The only reason I kept doing more, because likes, reblogs, views – these comics get a ton of attention
there is a audience to please alright
But this thing comes with a pressure tho
and it shows
so let me illustrate
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This bookcase
Is my shame
Because I was so rushing, I just copied and colour corrected this bookcase from my diploma comic and pasted it here in hopes for the best
💥IT LOOKS HORRIBLE OKAY💥
Usually it’s normal to take materials used in other projects
the not so normal part is
to leave it like that because your stress reducing tea doesn’t work and you don’t really have time to redraw it
my m en ta l s t a t e i s f i n e ah ah h ah ah
Ok but jokes aside: it’s really tempting, to just abandon everything and produce content like some sort of content farm
But I don’t want to, I’m forcing myself and it makes my art worse
Yes it’s subtle, new people won’t even see this
But I’m not improving
And I don’t enjoy just anxiously popping out comics because everyone keeps asking
I can give it my all to something when I’m passionate, but just “hey I’m getting attention” is not the best motivator
Attention like that does get to my head, I know that I will probably give in again and do more, bc I will compare my posts engagement
But what’s the point of recognition, when you feel.. so numb about it…
Sorry for a mountain of text and thank you for ppl who actually took their time to read it
It’s been building up for a while and I feel like people need to know the reason why I’m not so enthusiastic about making “more”
I’m not necessarily completely abandoning this fandom
I still plan to do ask/suggestions event for STP (I’m just making sure I can dedicate my time to it, that’s why it’s taking so long) and I can add tnmn to the mix
Like STP+tnmn kind of deal
But for now – I need a break
At least for a little bit
27 notes · View notes
ruporas · 1 year
Photo
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asking and receiving (bonus below readmore)
[ID: A black and white, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood. In the first panel is a close up of Wolfwood's mouth as he says, "Vash". Accompanying it is a close up shot of Vash's eye, widen and cheeks flushed. Wolfwood presses a knee against the open space between Vash's legs and says, "Tell me everything you want from me." Wolfwood's face is equally as flushed. He continues to say, "I'll give it to you. Everything." As he talks, a wide shot shows the both of them in white space. Vash is sitting, leaning a little back with both hands pressed against the surface he's sitting on. Wolfwood is in his white dress shirt, stripped of the blazer. He's still leaning in with one knee in between Vash's spread legs, his right hand touching Vash's lips and his left hand behind his back.
The shot closes in on Vash's mouth and Wolfwood's hand against it, pressing down on the lower lip as he says, "You have to ask though. Go on." His hand moves down to Vash's chin, gently holding it. With a shy and uncertain expression, Vash hesitantly asks, "Um... K... Kiss... Please?" Wolfwood, without wasting a second, leans in and kisses him and indulges by pressing deeper, eliciting a small noise of surprise from Vash.
Wolfwood moves away from Vash first and with a smile, asks, "What else?" Vash tugs on Wolfwood's left sleeve, wordlessly budging Wolfwood to give him his hand that was still behind his back. In the next panel, Vash utters, "Hold me..?" He's holding Wolfwood's left hand with his own while his right hand is reaching for his waist. Wolfwood complies, moving his left hand to Vash's shoulder and his right hand continues to touch Vash's cheek. Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"
More comfortable now, Vash leans in to kiss Wolfwood. Wolfwood catches him immediately, pressing his thumb against Vash's lips to stop him before demanding, "Hey. Ask." Vash looks back in surprise and Wolfwood meets his eye with a quiet, insistent look. They're quiet for a moment before Vash leans in again and curtly requests, "Kiss. Me." Wolfwood says "Good", smiling as he lifts his hand away, and meets Vash's lips. In the next shot, Wolfwood had adjusted his position, sitting on Vash's thigh. The hand that was once on Vash's cheek has moved its way to Vash's nape, pushing away the collar of his jacket with his pinky. His other hand continues to grip on Vash's shoulder. Still kissing, Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"
In the next shot, Vash is starting to turn, moving Wolfwood with him. Vash asks, "Let me on top of you?" Wolfwood says, "Mhm" before asking again, "What else?" The next panel shows a close look of Vash's face. He's looking down, flushed and shy just as he had been at the beginning, but now, more decisive. Vash asks, "Wolfwood... Let me have you..?" A panel of Wolfwood taking Vash's hand into his, pulling it towards his chest. The next panel shows Wolfwood lying down where Vash had laid him. Vash's hand is on Wolfwood's chest, covering the cross of his rosary while Wolfwood's hand lingers against his, loosely pressing Vash's hand in place. He looks up at Vash with a shy smile of his own, flushed cheeks. He says, "All yours."
A panel shows a close up of Vash's tender gaze before he leans down to be closer to Wolfwood. The final shot is a front view of their positions, Vash's face turned away from the viewer; Vash is leaning over Wolfwood who's lying down with his right leg draped over Vash's legs. Wolfwood's left hand holds onto Vash's left arm. With finality, Vash says, "...Mine." End ID]
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[ID: A follow up bonus comic in a looser, sketchier style. They're laying comfortably in bed when Vash asks, "What was that earlier?" referecing to the start of the previous comic. Wolfwood glances away and says, "To get you used to it. Asking. And getting what you ask for. Since you're alwasy hesitant about it." Vash's eyes widen, tight lipped. Wolfwood continues, "Knowing you, it'll be a tough habit to break..." When he says this, Vash can't help but laugh, unable to deny it. Wolfwood slowly brings a hand to Vash's cheek and continues to say, "So I'll keep trying -- whatever ways I can... to get it through your thick skull." Vash takes Wolfwood's hand with his, kissing the the palm gently. Wolfwood's eyes soften and holding onto Vash's cheek, he leans in to try for a kiss. Vash says, "Hey..." before stopping Wolfwood's lips with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face, "Ask." Wolfwood's embarrassed and with little irritation, asks, "Really?" Vash smiles, saying, "You're in need of practice too." They pause for a moment, Wolfwood looking contemplatively, before he's leaning in again, asking, "May I please kiss you?" Vash looks him in the eyes and says, "Yes." The comic ends with a "chu", indicating an off-panel kiss. End ID]
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#it took me so long to post this even after getting clarification about the maturity warning and stuff#bc i am so shy about it. SDGMKDSGMKSD I LIKE THIS COMIC BUT IM ALSO SO LIKE... AUGHHHH....#when i posted this on twitter though it was like... a few days after ep 11? ive always had the thought circling about vash deserving of#asking for things... and getting what he wants bc he never gets both. doesn't get the opportunity to ask and hardly does he get what he want#maybe the results can go in his favor but at some point along the way he'll still lose something bc nothing can ever go perfectly for him...#and he's usually the one begging and pleading with people to not. do something. it's not even asking at that point it's just straight up#please believe me. please trust me. please don't shoot that person. please don't kill anyone. please don't do it.#and wolfwood.... it was not always this lovey dovey ok. he wouldv noticed this habit miles away and they got into a fight about it the first#time they talked about it bc wolfwood is being hypocritical too. as he always is!!!! but i think as they get more intimate#wolfwood finds ways to make vash understand. smth smth insatiable want and love and desire for wolfwood that makes it much easier to ask.#wolfwood can also just be so compliant. sometimes. which is also an issue in of itself that id love to explore at some point#but he also just enjoys giving into vash fully and completely.#bc he loves him a lot. but anyway#i hope the id is comprehendible.... please lmk if there's something wrong with how im doing it asfdgkdsmgs#ruporas art
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kinaesthetiqueer · 3 months
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no wonder Nora never took her jacket off; RNJR would have never gotten anything done.
i like to think this happens in v4 because Ruby makes an offhand comment about Nora and Jaune not having guns as part of their kits. and Nora whips off her jacket and cries "guns? oh i've got guns! 😏" cue Jaune and Ren having a crisis. Ren is, to quote a friend, "experiencing emotions previously unknown, possibly shrimp ones".
redraw of this meme, because i wanted to draw best girl flexing and being admired, as she deserves.
renorarc et al. versions under the cut. :) image ID in alt text.
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i don't have a twitter, so if you're inclined to share, please link back to this post rather than reposting it, thank you :')
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OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever
#jrwi fanart#cw blood#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#arthur bennett#OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob:#BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay#i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY.#THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL#so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM..#grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that#ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT#arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES#I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM.#I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no#ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE#BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much...#GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that#we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW#he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE..#i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar#I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS#also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that#human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY#i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK#feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh
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itsjaywalkers · 1 month
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for the prompt game: ROSEKILLER 57 WITH BOXER AU IVE BEEN WAITING MY WHOLE LIFE FOR THIS MOMENT……….. (also i hope you’re having a fun day off laurie hi hi 🥺🤍)
HI HI SAINTS BELOVED <333 i actually didn't get the day off bc i'm an idiot and i couldn't say no when my coworker asked me to change shifts.. but at least i got home before 10pm which . is unusual for me lmao . and today's shift was actually kinda fun so !!
anyways, hope you're having a lovely day and that u enjoy this silly lil thing <3 first peek into boxer au rosekiller <3 (i went a bit overboard but they've been plaguing my mind and u don't deserve less)
57. "Teach me to fight."
It's been more than half an hour of hitting the punching bag nonstop when Barty finally decides to take a break. It's not even because he's actually tired, despite the sweat he can already feel dripping down his back and his face. It's because his bad shoulder—the right one—dislocated during the last combination he tried, and after Barty puts it back in place, he's gotta wait a little bit before going back to training.
This happens way too often for comfort, but it's not really painful anymore—it never really was, or maybe Barty has simply dealt with much worse. Besides, the longer he ignores it, the more serious it'll get, which means he'll have an excuse to go get another check-up.
His manager already warned him when he first got the injury after that stupid fight with stupid Potter. Barty began to grow restless during recovery time, and then decided his shoulder was fine when it stopped hurting.
Obviously, he was wrong. Except, it only dislocates when he goes too hard, and he's learnt how to put it back in place without issue, so really, technically, he was sort of right. What does his manager know, anyway? As long as Barty continues winning and putting money in that fucker's pocket, there shouldn't be any complaints.
He pulls up his tank top and dries off some of the sweat on his neck and the side of his face, while rolling his shoulder gently, testing the waters before he goes back to punching, when the hairs at his nape begin to stand up.
There's no noise, no sudden sounds. Barty doesn't hear the door opening, or closing, and yet, when he turns around, smirk already pulling at his lips, he isn't surprised to find someone standing right behind him.
"Hey, Rosie," he greets the other man, who blinks at him, completely deadpan. "I didn't know you were still around. Long shift today?"
"Yes, you did," Evan responds, that cool tone of his sending a pleasing chill down Barty's spine. "Know, that is. I'm pretty sure you've got my schedule memorised."
Barty takes a few moments to drop the hem of his shirt, because he notices the way in which Evan's gaze drops to his stomach and stays there for a handful of seconds. His expression doesn't change, there isn't even a flicker of something in his face, but the attention is more than enough for him.
"Well, you left your email open and your laptop in my near vicinity." Barty shrugs, eyes running up and down Evan's body. He's still wearing that sexy white coat of his, the shirt underneath it perfectly buttoned and tucked inside his jeans.
There's barely any skin showing, because Evan is a little weirdo, but there's some ankle peeking, since the pants are ridiculously tight on him and the legs keep riding up slightly.
Honestly, it's like he's doing it on purpose. Barty can't be blamed if he ends up hard under his sweats. He can already feel some blood rushing south just at the sight of that tiny sliver of soft brown skin.
"And you downloaded my rotas?" Evan guesses, tilting his head to the side.
"Nah," Barty says, crossing his arms over his chest, flexing a little. "Didn't have to. I've got a damn good memory. I read over them for a couple of minutes until they stuck."
Evan nods, not fazed in the slightest.
"That's why you only come in when I'm on shift," Evan states, and it's not a question. He doesn't seem surprised, or freaked out, but then again, he barely shows any emotions. Apart from irritation, that is, and that one's reserved for when Barty is being especially pushy. Or especially horny.
"I don't think I've ever seen any of the other nurses a single time in my life," Barty tells him with a chuckle.
"You have," Evan retorts, and his eyes narrow the tiniest bit. Barty feels a pull in his stomach. "You were talking to Betty three weeks ago, after your match against Black. The bad one. You let her check your shoulder."
Barty lets out an incredulous laugh, not sure on where to focus first, going dizzy with how badly he wants this freak of a man.
He's obsessed with the way in which Evan always seems to get the urge to clarify which Black he's talking about, as if it's not obvious, considering only one of them fights. How he's always so precise, never allowing any ambiguity into his sentences. How almost nothing seems to hold his focus apart from his experiments and medicine and his patients' injuries, and yet, here he is, remembering when Barty talked to someone else momentarily.
"Did I?" Barty asks innocently, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his shit-eating grin at bay.
"Yes," Evan responds, a little furrow appearing between his eyebrows. "She was touching you."
"Was she?" The corners of Barty's mouth are twitching so much he's sure he must look like an absolute maniac.
"Yes," Evan repeats, some exasperation slipping into his voice. "She wasn't even doing it right. She kept kneading the muscle in the same place, instead of checking the ligament, and she did this for more than five minutes, even though it takes seconds to find out about a dislocation—"
"Rosie," Barty cuts him off gently, watching, with no little amount of delight, how Evan's frown worsens. "I didn't even know her fucking name. I couldn't give less of a fuck about stupid Betty, or whatever the hell she's called."
Evan blinks slowly. "But you—"
"I was tired and sore after that match, my shoulder was bothering me, and she was there. My manager told her to check my shoulder, just in case I had fucked it up beyond solution, but if I had known you were around she wouldn't have laid a single finger on me."
There's a beat of silence, Evan's dead eyes searching all over Barty's face, assessing and determined. He smirks at him, which results in Evan huffing and looking away.
"Don't do it again," it's what he ends up mumbling, and if Barty didn't know any better, he'd dare to say Evan is close to pouting. "You're my patient."
Barty raises both eyebrows, a deranged smile splitting his face while he perks up like a goddamn dog. "Is that jealousy I'm hearing, Rosie?"
"No," Evan drawls, straightening up. "It's just the truth. You're not my only patient, you know? But if you're getting treated by me, then you're not allowed to see any other nurses."
"Damn, way to make a man feel special," Barty scoffs, but he does actually kind of mean it. Which he's aware might be a bit pathetic, but, well, he'll be whatever the fuck Evan wants him to. "Wasn't interested in seeing any other nurses, anyway."
"Good." Evan nods, almost to himself, and Barty has to make an active effort not to coo. "Are you done training?"
Barty blinks a couple of times, slightly taken aback, both by the sudden change of topic and by Evan entertaining conversation. Normally, talking to the other boy feels like pulling teeth—oh, man, Rosie would fucking love this comparison—which Barty doesn't mind because he finds it incredibly fun. Unless Evan is going on one of his medical rants, and yeah, Barty shouldn't find it as attractive as he does, but it's not like he's ever worked like he's supposed to.
But this? This is new.
"Not really," Barty answers, still feeling off-kilter. He shakes his head, forcibly pulling himself out of his mind. "Why? You wanna join me, Rosie?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Barty snorts, assuming that it's a joke, even though he's more than aware that Evan doesn't do jokes, because his humour is way too dark, and rarely finds funny what others do. But Evan's expression doesn't change, and Barty nearly chokes on his own spit.
"Wait, you're serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've never been interested in boxing," Barty points out.
"That's a lie. I watch every match," Evan argues, lips pursed.
"Because you're job kind of forces you to."
"Also a lie. I need to be there when I'm on shift, in case they call for me, but I'm not required to actually watch."
"Yeah, but you still do, because your pretty little morbid head goes absolutely feral at the prospect of seeing some blood."
Evan scrunches his nose, as if disgusted.
"You're wrong," Evan lies, expression giving absolutely nothing away. Really, if Barty didn't already know the truth, he'd be inclined to believe him. "It's got nothing to do with that. I like boxing."
Barty huffs, the noise filled with amusement. "Sure you do, Rosie."
"I really do," Evan insists, always so ridiculously stubborn.
"I don't know who you're trying to convince, but—"
"Teach me to fight."
Barty sputters, brows almost reaching his hairline, and he gapes at Evan, who's still staring at him. He seems unaffacted by Barty's dramatics, but then again, he's unaffected by almost everything.
"The fuck?" he manages to spit out at some point.
"Teach me to fight," Evan says again, a lot slower, as if Barty is some kind of idiot. God, he wans to fucking devour him.
Barty isn't sure of what's going on right now. Evan barely interacts with him outside of their appointments, it's always him reaching out, so he doesn't understand what prompted this. What Evan is hoping to achieve.
"Why?"
"I told you, I like boxing."
"Yeah, okay. And the real reason?"
Evan's tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, and it's so, so hard for Barty, not to make a very inappropriate joke.
"I'm testing something," he admits, albeit bedgrugingly.
"Ah, so you want me to be your guinea pig," Barty sighs a bit dreamily. "That sounds more like it."
"Sure," Evan agrees with unsurprising ease. "Will you?"
"All you had to do was ask, Rosie."
They get to work right after that. Barty doesn't even bother with suggesting a change of clothes, because he's aware of how well that'd be received. The fact that Evan chooses to take the white coat off is already more than Barty expected.
He tries to show him how to stand, how to do a basic punch. Evan knows most of the basic theory, mostly due to how often he deals with boxing injuries, but he's absolutely helpless when he has to act it out himself.
It doesn't matter how often Barty corrects him; he keeps slouching, stance all wonky. He lacks strength, and he takes a bit too long to protect his face after doing a jab.
The main issue, though, is his obvious lack of interest.
Evan seems to be distracted by something, too inside his own head, and when Barty is about to point this out, poke some fun at him in hopes of getting Evan to snap, the other man speaks again.
"That's enough," he declares, tone leaving no place for argument. "Let's spar."
Barty chuckles, disbelieving, but then Evan is sending a glare his way, and he raises both hands in mock surrender, giving in immediately.
He'll do pretty much whatever the fuck Evan wants him to, really.
They both get into position, and regardless of how much Barty is holding back, trying to give the other man a chance, is actually kind of laughable, how easily he overcomes him.
One moment they're exchanging soft blows, and the next Barty has Evan pinned to the floor, his legs and arms completely immobilised as Barty grins maniacally from above.
"Happy now, Rosie?" he teases.
Evan presses his mouth in a tight line. "Not quite."
"Oh, really? Because I'm starting to think this was all a ruse to get me on top of you."
Evan rolls his eyes so hard Barty worries they might get stuck inside his skull. "I'm afraid that's more your style. And anyway, I don't think it's wise to understimate your opponent like this."
"It's nothing personal, Rosie, but when victory is already mine, I—"
Barty never gets to finish. Evan raises his head so quickly his brain barely registers it, and then he's sinking his teeth hard where Barty's neck meets his shoulder. Until he breaks skin, until he draws blood, until Barty lets out a pained groan and his body goes slack, more in surprise than actual hurt.
A moment later, their positions are reversed. Evan is straddling him, mouth still attached to his skin, and Barty is lying on the cold ground, dizzy and a little bit breathless.
He doesn't know how long they stay like this—definitely not enough—but after a while, Evan lets go and sits up a little, lips stained red. It's dripping down his chin, and when he parts his mouth a little, panting softly, Barty finds out that his teeth are also crimson with blood. With his blood.
Barty groans again.
"You're hard," Evan comments, painfully nonchalant. It's that same casualness he used the first time Barty had an erection during an appointment, after Evan had pulled at the stitches on his leg and stuck his fingers inside Barty's wound.
"Yeah," he breathes out, half-delirious. "Yeah, no shit."
Evan hums, cocking his head to the side, analytical gaze running up and down Barty's body and making him twitch in his pants. The fact that Evan can feel it right under him, between his legs, forces Barty to swallow down a moan.
Barty is about to say something incredibly stupid to maybe, hopefully, alleviate the tension, when Evan leans down once more; this time, slower, more careful.
He's prepared to feel the sting of a bite again, toes curling in excitement, but it never comes. Instead, there's something wet and tentative and soft lapping at the open wound, gathering all the blood there that is still coming out.
It takes Barty a moment to realise it's Evan's tongue.
The knowledge hits Barty like a motherfucking bus. He can't stop a low moan from coming out now, or his hips from thrusting up, searching for something, anything, that Evan might give him.
Surprisingly, and instead of pulling away, the other man makes an odd noise against his skin, and Barty thinks he's imagining it when Evan presses down on him.
He freezes up after that, but only for a second, Evan's licking never stopping. But then Barty moves again, more purposefully, rubbing his erection against the apex of Evan's thighs.
The response is immediate, although definitely unconscious. Evan grinds back experimentally, with no coordination or finesse, dropping another sound into Barty's bleeding wound.
His eyes widen when his brain finally catches up properly, hands coming up to grab at Evan's hips and halt his movements.
"Rosie, are you..." Barty stops, swallows harshly. "Are you turned on right now?"
Evan laps at the blood a few more times before straightening up again, staring down at Barty with unblinking eyes and red all over his face.
"Fuck, are you—?" A laugh, strained and bordering on hysterical. "Are you wet?" He doesn't even need to check to know the answer.
Evans nods, almost imperceptibly. "Apparently so."
He has half a mind to turn them over and fuck Evan into the floor. Until Evan is a whimpering mess. Until he's crying, begging, unable to do anything but fucking take it. Until he's sore, and hurt, and full, but still asking for more. Until he can't say anything else apart from Barty's name, until he's—
"Bloody hell," Barty whispers, shutting his eyes tight and letting out another cackle.
Oh, he's going to die. He's absolutely going to fucking die.
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ladybugboots · 2 years
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let me help you
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cherrirui-official · 4 months
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Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 3/7)
PART 3 RAAAAGH!!! SO SORRY THIS ONE TOOK SO LONG AAAH!!!! But it's here now, yippee!!! And just in time for Christmas too, wowie!
I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv
(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)
!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!
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@saltydkart-reblogs
Designs under the cut!
GRACE:
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The light scars/ cracks on her body were injuries formed while she was accidentally sent through Turo's time machine. Unlike the paradox pokemon/ miraidon, GrAce's body isn't made of iron or metal, so her body wasn't able to withstand the large amount of tera energy used to power the machine as easily as the paradox pokemon were.
Luckily, she was just barely able to hold out against the time machine's energy until she made it to Turo's lab in the present day. Unfortunately, she can't be sent back because she would literally die if she went through the time machine again. Sooooo she's stuck in the modern era.
Very familiar with Area Zero and the various pokemon that reside down there, but moved out in order to continue producing music as well as familiarize herself with current-day Paldea.
She only vaguely know Clavell back when he was a rebellious teenager, though she didn't know his name. Clavell, on the other hand, was one of her biggest fans back in the 50s-60s.
Funny enough, when she sees "Clive" for the first time, she recognizes him! But not as Director Clavell, she just barely recognizes him as the random teenage fan that would occasionally ask her to sign various GrAce posters he had bought. She is also under the belief that he too, was sent from the past into the present, unaware that he simply just grew up.
Likes doing random poses for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
BRAIDY:
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Believes that everything can be solved without violence, but can and will throw hands if need be.
Everyone in Braidy's family greet each other by playfully ramming into one another. So when Peppy and his team were getting chased down by Braidy's family during their journey, they weren't trying to attack them, they just wanted to say hi!
Braidy is really good with kids due to his experience with being the eldest sibling, as he'd often have to take care of his younger siblings.
Mykyie and Braidy shop at the same clothing store.
Speaking of Mykyie, the lighter parts of Braidy's fur appeared only after Mykyie passed...
As of now, he's still an apprentice, but he has great potential to become an all powerful wizard... someday.
CHRISTENE'S:
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Artist's note: I couldn't fit their children in the bio sorry girls and gays. I'll probably draw them out later on after I'm finished with everyone else.
Their stomachs are basically voids, so every time they eat the food just disappears, which is why they're ALWAYS hungry.
HIGHLY flammable.
It is speculated that they're poppets, but you don't have any proof of that, do you?
If you listen closely, you can hear soft bell noises every time they walk. It is unknown why this happens, but I believe it is best not to ask.
Aaaaand that's it! I plan on taking a short break from these bc I wanna draw some other stuff. Dw, I'll continue to work on these very soon!
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quirkle2 · 1 month
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first amv be nicies to me about it or else
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rinisdrawing · 1 year
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freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex: ultimate speedrun challenge
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boyfridged · 1 year
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You may have already mentioned this in some of your other metas, and I just missed it, so please ignore this if it's redundant.
Do you think Bruce is projecting onto Jason by pushing him as a Robin? Obviously, Jason wanted to be Robin and was excited about it, and Bruce let Jason do other things, but (if I'm not mistaken) before Tim came into play, solidifying the whole Batman needs a Robin/support to keep him upright, Bruce and Dick becoming Batman and Robin, in the beginning, was also sort of a coping mechanism.
I think there are a few examples of Bruce enabling this kind of mindset. Like in Gotham Knights #43–44 (sorry), every time Barbara brings up Jason's inner turmoil, Bruce refocuses on his ability as a Robin; similarly, when Jason finds out about Two-Face and his dad, he is hurt, and Bruce acknowledges that but then does the same thing, zeroing in on reassuring Jason that he made a mistake but is still a good Robin.
Like, Jason got it from Bruce, but he unintentionally encouraged that kind of thinking.
oh, i definitely think that bruce is projecting on jason and that it profoundly affected jay. and, while every single one of your observations is apt, i would add that what truly made it so tragic is that he projected his own worst traits on jason while being blind to the fact that jay already shared his best qualities.
tldr: bruce projects himself on jason in terms of grief (saying that jason needs vigilantism to work his grief through) and sees his own worst traits in jason (anger) but doesn't see his own best traits in jay (compassion, love, and sensitivity). ironically, jason does end up developing all of the (projected) worst characteristics of bruce (obsessiveness, and relentlessness in pursuit of the respective perceived idea of justice). this happens even though they were barely present in his early storylines, and only ever manifested when jason was scared or lost. later, they truly came to be because of his trauma relating to vigilantism.
and the long, long version, coming with panels and quotes: under the cut.
first i want to say that the following analysis focuses very specifically on bruce's mistakes, but i don't view the overall of jay's upbringing by bruce solely in these terms. from text it is also clear that bruce deeply loves and cares about jay, and that jay enjoys being robin. now that this is clear, let's get to particularities, and start with jay's origin story.
i truly never stop thinking about the significance of bruce meeting jay in the crime alley, the place of his parents' death. there's a lot to be said about it, but here the focus is, of course, on the fact that he sees a little boy, very much similar to himself, angry and hurt, in the same scenery that brought him so much grief. and jay in some ways does appear to be a mirror of bruce's own agonies, as well as a mirror of his own inclination for seeking justice; and somehow, bruce fixates on the first one, while almost completely dismissing the latter.
bruce looks at him and assumes that the remedy to jason's pain and anger is being robin; and he doesn't stop to think about it. (it has to be noted that there's also classism at play, classism that is mostly a result of writers' own beliefs – collins did state in a couple of interviews that that the motivation behind jason's background was to make his introduction into vigilantism seem less offensive, as jason has already been exposed to crime...)
i think, in this context, it's interesting to look at the two-face storyline even closer, and from the start too. in the beginning, bruce talks of jason's 'street' roots and assumes jay would go "down the same criminal road that took his father [willis] to an early death." he also talks of jason making a lot of progress. later, in batman #411, after jason learns that willis has been killed by two-face, bruce comments that jay "has never been like this...listless...almost pouting--"
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this all, along with jay's cheerful and diligent behaviour from the previous issue builds an interesting picture for us: because we essentially learn that jay has been overall an unproblematic child. bruce, of course, attributes this "progress" to the training. however, for anyone else, the logical conclusion would be that jay's quick adjustment was simply a matter of finding himself in a safe and stable environment and receiving continuous support and attention from a parental figure. i find it rather questionable that jason's personality softened down because he had something to punch in the cave–– the more intuitive explanation is of course that he was angry and quick to fight when they first met because he couldn't afford anything else and because he was scared. but months later, in a loving home, he can allow himself to drop his guard; and his cocky attitude disappears until much later.
so the rather unsettling picture that we derive is that bruce is training jay to become a vigilante in order to "channel" his (nonvisible at this point) anger into something useful and just. and he clearly links this to his own trauma in batman #416 (that’s already starlin btw), in his conversation with dick, explaining why he took jay in: “he’s so full of anger and frustration… he reminds me of myself, just after my parents were killed.” bruce also mentions that soon after their first meeting, jason helped him and "handled himself well" in the fight, but he doesn't mention that jay has ran away from a crime "school" and intended to stop injustice on his own only because he was ignored.
the theme of bruce comparing jay to himself appears again in detective comics #574 (barr), where it is approached with a much more... critical look, thanks to leslie's presence and her skepticism of bruce's actions. after jason has suffered nearly fatal injuries at the hand of the mad hatter, bruce reminisces on his own trauma and motives. he tells leslie: "i didn't choose jason for my work. he was chosen by it...as i was chosen." leslie replies: "stop that! (...) you do this for yourself... you're still that little boy (...)" then, the conversation steers to the familiar ground and the topic of anger. in bruce's words, again: “i wanted to give jason an outlet for his rage…wanted him to expunge his anger and get on with his life…” and finishes "and instead, i may have killed him."
the recognition that bruce's projection on jason and involving him with his work might have fatal consequences is, as always, fast forgotten once jay wakes up and proclaims that he wants to continue his work as robin.
but to circle back, i think there's something else worth our attention, something deeply ironic, that is showcased in that issue: that bruce has no evidence for jay's "rage." when leslie talks of bruce's past, she recalls his tendencies to get into brutal fights at perceived injustice as early as in school; when bruce talks of jason, two pictures that are juxtaposed, are that of jason fighting as robin and jason... smiling, playing baseball.
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so, in the early days of jason's training and work in the field, we see bruce talking of jason's anger a lot; but we barely see it.
that being said, jay is angry sometimes– and i think your observation about how bruce deals with it is incredibly interesting and accurate.
we first see jay truly and devastatingly angry in the two-face storyline. bruce focuses on jay's reaction as robin, which is, in fact, aggressive. but something that he barely addresses is that jason's first reaction is sleeping all day, and not beating anyone to a pulp; in fact, this vengeful instinct seems to arise only when he is put right in front of two-face. and his third instinct, once the rage (very quickly) dies down after the altercation with two-face, is crying, because bruce hid the truth about willis' death from him. jay, while crying, asks bruce: "you have taken me out into combat-- but you spare me this?" in response, bruce lectures jason about how grief inspires revenge, which is, again, deeply ironic, given that jay seeking out revenge seemed to be prompted and enabled solely by the role of robin. moreover, his question suggests that at this point he saw grief ("you spare me this") and fighting as two different things.
the final is, as you said, bruce focusing on making it into a lesson on vigilantism, or, in his own words, "tempering revenge into justice." personally, i think in this way bruce directs jason to bring his grief into the field as a powering force, something that he didn't necessarily have an own incentive to do. the flash of compartmentalisation between his ordinary life and being a sidekick that jay has shown by questioning bruce's decision is lost. emotions are now a robin thing, and they have an (informal) protocol, a moral code. and when jay is confronted with an emotionally exhausting case next – the garzonas case, i believe that the focus on "tempering revenge into justice" is exactly the problem– we don't see jay crying, we see him frantic about finding the solution. this, right there, is bruce's obsessiveness, that in my opinion, was developed in jay specifically as a result of how his engagement with vigilantism combines with his deep sensitivity.
and, needless to say, his sensitivity is all the same as that of bruce – they both can't stand looking at other people hurting, they both wear their hearts on their sleeve, caring way too much – the thing is, bruce never quite acknowledges how they are similar in this matter. instead, he focuses on his sparse bursts of anger, wanting to bring jason closure in his grief the only way he knows it – in a fight for a better world. so, as you said, he focuses on jason's ability as robin.
which just doesn't work for jason. at all. we know it from how his robin run comes to an end: in the first issue of a death in the family (batman #426) alfred informs: “i’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying.”  to that, bruce contends: “in other words, i may have started jason as robin before he had a chance to come to grips with his parents deaths.” he also tells jay that the field is not a place for someone who is hurting; a message that is the opposite of what he's been saying for years now, and something that i imagine was difficult for bruce to conceptualise, because then he would have to question his own unhealthy tendencies. it's a bit late to come to this realisation; bruce's self-projection that caused him to worry so much about jay's anger has already turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy that will fully manifest itself in utrh, when jason does the only thing he was taught to do with grief: try to channel it into justice.
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