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#you don't exactly make it easy for the people who love me now do you
trappedinafantasy37 · 24 hours
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There are two manipulators in camp, and the more successful one isn't Astarion. It's Shadowheart. I'm not saying that Shadow is a better manipulator necessarily, but that she uses more successful tactics than Astarion.
Astarion does not care about your relationship or affinity with the other companions. He only cares about your relationship and affinity with him. He may call everyone "darling" but he flirts with you. He gets in your ear and says sweet and nice things... to you. He compliments... you. He plays around... with you. He wants you to feel good about yourself which will make you feel good about him. Most of his manipulation moments happen in one on one scenarios, where it is just you and him. He is a very different man when he's with you because he's manipulating you. He acts very differently with people around you or in group settings. If anything, the person he is in group settings is closer to the real man he is cause he's not trying to manipulate everyone.
He puts on this overly flirtatious mask cause he is using you to guarantee his survival (at least at first). But, because he puts this mask on in one on one scenarios, it only takes just one second to you to see through it to fail. And if you happen to catch on to him, you can see very easily through the mask. The manipulation instantly fails and he is forced to be himself to try to maintain your approval. But if you don't see his mask early on, he could convince you to do just about anything, even the most heinous of actions. And then when he willingly lets his mask fall or feels he no longer needs it and you see the real him, it's too late. You've already fallen in love with him. Now, he can do no wrong in your eyes.
Shadow uses nearly the exact opposite approach. She does care about your relationship and affinity for others. To be precise, she wants you to have a slightly unfavorable opinion of the others so that she comes out as the favored by default. Lae'zel is a particular target of this. She avoids one on one scenarios and pushes you away every time you try to get close. Yes, it is that inner Sharran of hers in regards to keeping secrets. But also the fact that she's super easy to see through if you get close to her, so she wants to keep you away for the sole purpose that you don't see that she's manipulating you. But, even if you do, she still has the benefit of the doubt on her side.
Her manipulation mostly takes place in group scenarios. She takes advantage of things as they happen and she says very precise words to sway your opinion in the way she wants. Unfortunately, Lae'zel is a perfect example of how successful this manipulation tactic can be. Shadow doesn't not need to tell you Lae'zel is dangerous, she just reminds you that she is while Lae'zel is actively doing dangerous things. Shadow will even openly admit to this tactic and it will fly over your head that that's exactly what she's doing because she has made herself appear as someone who wouldn't do it to you. Or, admitting to it can make you doubt that she ever would as you may think, "a real manipulator wouldn't admit to manipulating me, right?" Her manipulation is all about planting just the slightest bit of doubt, and you do the rest and manipulate yourself for her. And she does it so marvelously. She makes sure that the only person you don't doubt is her.
Astarion's manipulation requires that you never see through his bullshit at any given point in time. If you do, the manipulation fails. Shadow's manipulation can survive you seeing through her bullshit because everyone, somehow, keeps proving her right anyway.
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keets-writing-corner · 3 months
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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??
As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue
the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD
He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.
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like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...
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The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"
and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it
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does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING
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like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow
For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat
Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation
Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with
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Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)
But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time
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Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell
Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch
idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room
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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 month
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I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.
I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?
Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.
There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).
Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.
It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?
Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.
But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.
It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.
And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.
I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.
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kaciebello · 2 months
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Delivery Express ✿
Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts. Feeling like not doing enough, some books about vampires will help.
 Warnings: Making the reader feel bad, no use of y/n
Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Still mad that they took my yellow text coloring ⋋_⋌. Proofread by me and me only (T▽T)
Previously: Too many voicemails
word count: 1.2k
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Notes to deliver: 1057
The dining hall was as busy as always. Piles of food on each table and chatter all over the place. Even the professors talked among themselves. It was hard to hear people next to you, but you for sure could hear the conversations of other people on the other side of the table. Everyone kept to their house, talking to their housemates. And that is why nobody even batted an eye at a girl in a green uniform wearing a suspiciously yellow bow in her hair, sitting next to the Slytherin royalty. The boys did not pay her much attention, talking among themself, in their minds, planning school and world domination as if it was a game of chest. Granted none of them were good at chess but they can still try and play it. In reality, they were planning how to beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch later that week. What weirded them out was the lack of envelopes she liked to have with her. Something about everyone being in the hall made them easy to track. 
She received pointed looks from the boys, not noticing them, however. Draco jabbed Blaise in his ribs, trying to get him to say something. None of them dared to say anything. None of them wanted to look like despraed second years waiting for a note from their crush that had never written back. Well, that was until Lorenzo mustered up the courage.
“Where are your love notes at?” He says reaching for the plate full of chicken and bringing it closer to her. Knowing the girl would crawl over the whole table for them if he didn't.
She shrugs and reaches for the chicken strip, the plate now sitting in the middle of the group. Taking a bite before speaking.
“I sold it.” Confusion on their face as she continued to eat and pile more food on her plate.
“ Wha do you mean you sold it?” Asked Blaise. Fork pointing at her.
“Exactly what I said. I no longer run the delivery business.”
“Who did you sell it to?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she put down her food.
“Okay listen. I had a dream right? na in that dream an owl came to me and said if I sold it to her, she was gonna get me a limited edition of that muggle book I've been wanting. So I agreed and sold it to her.”
“You sold it in a dream?” she nods at his question. “ I don't think that's how business works.” He's sure to give her a bit of a side eyes. Maybe it is one of the muggle ways of conducting business he's not aware of.  Theodor started to laugh and soon enough others joined him.
Others at the table give them looks but they have been unbothered by it. The girl started to pout, not knowing what was so funny. the boys crack more jokes about owls and cryptic dreams, she however did not pay attention to those. Not even understanding the joke about the owl possibly being Mattheo's dads. She felt a bit sad that her friends made fun of her in the dining hall. Mattheo notices this and stops.
“Wait, you were serious?” He yelps, stopping the other boys from laughing. She just nods hint of tears in her eyes.
“I don't get what's so funny.” Her voice was unstable as she said this and rather than engaging in conversations with them, she piles more food on the plate and eats without looking at them. The boys feel bad for making her feel like that, but you can't blame them. It is not every day somebody tells them they sold business to an owl.
Lorenzo feeling the worst of all of them decides to speak up.
“What is the book about?” Just like that. It was like a switch flipped inside her. She turned to them with a wide smile and sparkles in her eyes. Some would even think she was faking it before to make them feel bad. None would dare to say it aloud.
“I'm not sure, it has something to do with vampires and werewolves.” She says, gesturing with her hands, what only the boys could interpret as a werewolf.
“We have werewolfs too.” Says Mattheo, knowing damn well he did not pay attention when they covered them. He could be only half sure. Even less when the girl shook her head.
“These are sexy werewolfs.” She made sure to emphasize the word sexy. Frustrated at not having any proof for her words. Theodor just rolled his eyes at her comment.
“ I can howl if you're interested.” He says gesturing to his body. A disgusted look from Blaise and a sigh from her discouraged him from actually howling.
“What else is it about.” Says Draco, although it was hard to understand him, as he was showing his fifth scone in his mouth.
“Something about the thing that shall not be named.” She says and Mattheo's ears perk up.
“My dad?”
“No, not that one.” Mattheo just made a disappointed sound at her answer.
They have seemingly moved from the conversations. Not bothered by the fact that their friend quit her business and sold it to an owl in her dream. It wasn't so strange after all in a school of magic and wizardry. Well, no, it was strange, but not as much as people would expect.
Lorenzo however stopped his chatter when a little note fell in front of him, catching it before it could touch his food. None of his friends seemed to notice this. All caught up in their conversation, trying to see how many scones can Draco actually stuff in his mouth. So he turned to a girl, leaned closer to her, and whispered.
“I thought you stopped.” A sly smirk appears on his face. The girl looks at him confused before turning red all over her face and ears. Her eyes fell on the note that sat between his fingers. Avoiding his eyes, he put his arm around her shoulders to make her look at him. She took a breath to answer him but she only managed to stutter a few words before a yell from Mattheo interrupted her. Both Lorenzo and her look at the other boy, also holding a note in his hand. They exchanged confused looks before other one fell in front of Blaise.
More and more notes started to fall around them. Along with other mail as the wols flew circles around the hall. Everyone looked up amazed, the amount of love notes made it look like it was snowing. Few love confession howlers could be heard at the other tables. Professor McGonagall was holding a love note on her own, blushing and hiding her face behind her hands.
 That's when they heard a thud on the table. A box set of limited editions of books landed right in front of their friend. The girl squealed in excitement, completely abandoning her food to immediately pull one out to investigate it. They all looked at her in shock not believing their eyes. Lorenzo's note was completely forgotten.  Coos from an owl sounded above their heads. The girl snickered at their shocked faces.
“I guess I did sell the business after all.”
Notes to deliver: 0
Final author note: We have come to the end of the series! Hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to send me questions if you have any. Anyone on the tag list will be automatically added to the sequel tag list, if you're against it please let me know and I will remove you! I hope you're doing well and I'll see you next time. ♡(ŐωŐ人)
Tag list:
@daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers
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munsonluhvr · 2 months
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could i request steve with a confident reader? just anything other than shy reader 😭
WHAT'S WRONG WITH BEING CONFIDENT?
a/n: shy reader is the it girl rn, huh. thank u for ur request! hope u like it! this was very much inspired by the club scene from '10 things I hate about you,' aka my fav movie of all time. it felt appropriate for this request.
synopsis: king!steve harrington x confident!reader. after setting his eyes on you in the cafeteria, steve, and all of his ego, pursues you; though you don't fall to your knees quite as easy as the other hawkins high girls. word count - 3.5k warnings: some swearing, mostly just fluff. not spell checked, I'm tired I'll do it another day haha.
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For the first time in a while, Steve wishes that he could tell Carol and Tommy to shut the fuck up. Carol, and Tommy, were on about something, Steve hadn’t paid enough attention to know exactly what, but all he knew is that he needed peace and quiet to be able to concentrate, to be able to watch you. 
You sit across the cafeteria, oblivious of Steve watching you closely. He watches as you laugh with your table full of friends, head thrown back, soft, round cheeks tinting pink, bright white teeth gleaming against the cafeteria lights. He has to have you. 
Steve leans over to Tommy, nudging his shoulder with his fist. “Who’s that?” Steve asks, bending low to point towards where you sit several tables away. “Who’s who?” Tommy asks, biting into his sandwich, looking towards where Steve points. Carol rolls her eyes, leaning forward to look in the direction that Steve’s pointer finger is angled at. 
“The blonde?” Tommy asks, turning his neck to get a better look. Steve is instantly frustrated, now making himself a spectacle as Tommy twists and turns to get a better look at where you sit. Steve shakes his head. “No, the girl sitting next to the blonde.” 
“Oh, she’s pretty.” Tommy says, sitting back into his chair. Underneath the table, Carol kicks Tommy’s chin with the toe of her shoe. Tommy yelps, shooting his girlfriend a scowl. “But I don’t know who that is.” 
Carol crosses her arms, chewing her gum more intensely. “That’s y/n. We’re in the same economic class.” 
Steve glances at Carol, waiting for her to say more. When she stares back, offering no other information about you, Steve moves his arms as if to say, ‘tell me more.’ Carol shrugs, picking her wad of gum out of mouth with her pointer and thumb fingers, placing it on a napkin that rests on the table. “She’s nice, totally out of your league though.” 
Steve scoffs leaning back in his seat, arms crossing against his chest. “Nobody is out of my league, Carol, girls love me.” 
Beside Steve, Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “King Steve is back at it. Sayonara, Nancy.” 
Steve shakes his head, shooting Tommy a daring look. Though he was over Nancy, breaking up with her several months ago, Steve didn’t like hearing her name, and Tommy knew that. 
“I’m going to go talk to her,” Steve says, swinging his legs over the bench seat. He runs a hand through his thick hair, his confidence at its peak. For Steve, his good looks, decent sense of humor, had the girls of Hawkins High hooked, weak in the knees for him, all honored to have a little piece of his attention. Carol hums, shaking her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
Steve shrugs off Carol, making his way across the cafeteria to your table. Weaving through crowded tables all clustered together, offering small ‘excuses me’ as he squeezes himself behind tables. 
You are trapped in your own world, enamored by all your friends who giggle around you, sharing funny stories from class. You hardly notice ‘King Steve’ making his way over to you, confidence coursing through him as he strides over. You wouldn’t consider yourself popular, per se, but you had a solid group of friends, people waved hello to you in the hallway. What set you apart from the popular girls in Hawkins is that you stood on your own two feet, had good wit, funny sense of humor, and you were genuinely nice. 
“Oh my god, Steve Harrington alert,” Your friend, Heather mumbled, her eyes shooting down to the tabletop. You shrugged, assuming Steve was just passing by your table. You weren’t wrapped up in the typical high school antics, certainly never pining over Steve Harrington. You were consumed with school and your friends; you were fine with it that way. Though your body tenses, when a hand places itself on your back. Looking across the table you see Heather’s eyes are as wide as saucers, her small mouth agape. 
“Y/n, right?” A voice you recognize as Steve’s says behind you. Stiffly, you turn in your seat, glancing over your shoulder. “Yes?” 
The commotion at your table abruptly comes to a halt, all eyes placed on you and Steve. Steve crouches down beside your chair, holding on to the empty space between you and your friend. Now that Steve is at your height, you’re forced to look his face. It’s a handsome face, all his features coming together perfectly, his fluffy hair adding a playful, boyish look. 
“I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.” Steve says, his hand out stretch to you. How odd you think, a teenage boy offering to shake your hand. You’ve never interacted with Steve before, though from all the discussion about Steve, you can’t imagine girls fawning over them if he offered to shake their hands. He always seems so confident, so arrogant, yet you almost think you sense nervousness radiating off Steve. You stare at his hand, then back at him. “Yes, I know.” You say, your hands folded in your lap unmoving. 
Steve drops his hand, using his free hand to brush his hand through his fluffy, brown hair. “Well, I just saw you from across the cafeteria and I couldn’t understand why we hadn’t met yet.” You glance at your friends, an eyebrow raised. They all watch intrigued. “So, you were watching me?” You say, tossing a glance at Steve. 
His eyes grow wide, his mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. “No- yes- I-“ You giggle as Steve stammers, glancing at your friends again as you hear them giggle. Steve frowns, not understanding where his confidence is lacking. He was normally so good at this. “What I mean is, I thought you were really pretty, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime? Jason Carver is having a party Saturday night, maybe we could go together.”
Before you could reply, the bell rang, students scrambling from all corners of the cafeteria to flee to their next class. All your friends sit motionless, unphased by the bell ringing, waiting to hear if you’ll go with Steve to the party. You fold your trash neatly, taking your time. Steve stands up as you swing your legs over the bench seat. “I should be going; I don’t want to be late for class,” you say innocently, shooting Steve a small smile. 
Steve frowns as you slide past him, your back turning as you walk away. Steve crosses his arms across his chest, his ego slightly bruised, as you become the first girl to reject his advances. Well, that won’t do, not for Steve at least. He doesn’t give up easily. Across the cafeteria, he sees Carol and Tommy laughing, shaking their heads at him, their eyes flickering to you as you saunter casually out of the cafeteria, your friends close behind. 
For the next half of school, Steve’s mind is preoccupied on how you escaped him, his usual charm and good looks not working on you. Steve had asked around about you, questioning various friends if they knew you. Some shook their head, others nodded, offering kind words about you: ‘She’s cool,’ ‘She’s got a good sense of humor,’ ‘She normally doesn’t date; she says she wants to focus on getting into a good college.’ It was apparent that you were going to be a tough one to crack, and normally Steve would have given up, but you intrigued him. 
The final bell hand rung, to Steve’s delight, and while he walked out of the hall towards the parking lot, relief that he was one day closer to the weekend. Steve liked the social aspect of school though he could do without the academic learning. 
As Steve walked towards the doors that leads to the parking lot, he swings his car keys around on his pointer finger, his mind wandering to you. Were you charmed by him and trying not to show it or was it hopeless to try and ask you out until you said yes? Wouldn’t hurt to try is what Steve settled on. 
Pushing the doors open and joining the rest of the school population that flees to catch a bus or a ride with their friends, he saunters across the parking lot, his freshly washed BMW sparkling against the sunlight. Just then, you walk passed him, your backpack slung over your shoulder. Before Steve can have a second thought, he picks up his pace, sliding up next to you. “Hello, y/n. Need a ride home?” Steve asks, tossing a pleasant smile towards you. 
You roll your eyes towards Steve. “No, I’m all set. Do you need something?” 
Steve raises her eyebrows, his eyes shifting from you to the parking lot that’s stretched out in front of him. “Just finishing our conversation that was interrupted by the bell earlier.” 
You laugh softly, shaking your head. You're amused that Steve conveniently neglects to remember that you were utterly uninterested in his offer and it was that fact, not the bell, that you left him in the cafeteria. “Yeah, it was totally interrupted by the bell.”   
Steve laughs too, missing the sarcasm that laces your tone. “Yeah, so what do you think?” 
“What do I think about what?” you ask simply, knowing that Steve is referring to Jason Carver’s party. 
“The party. Going with me.” Steve says, slowing down as you reach your own car. “It would be a lot of fun, casual if you want.” 
You shove your key into the door, unlocking it with a single twist. You lean down, tossing your backpack into the passenger seat, crouching down to sit in your car. “Jason Carver’s parties aren’t really my thing; parties in general aren’t really my thing.” 
A slight panic settles in Steve’s chest. “W-We can go out to eat instead.” 
You offer a sickly-sweet smile, your eyes squinting against the bright sunlight. You wave your manicured hand, offering a small wave. “Bye, Steve.” You slam your driver’s door shut, turning your car on swiftly.. 
Feeling defeated, Steve slinks away back towards his car, formulating a new plan in his mind. 
The following day, Steve brought a new sense confidence to school. He was going to ask you, again, to go out and hopefully you would be enticed to give him a chance - you had to give him a chance, right?
It was then, as he was walking out of chemistry, his head aching from the sound of Mr. Erickson droning on and on about isotopes and ions, that he spots you exchanging your textbooks in your locker, your pink frilly dress catching his attention. Before he can change his mind, he turns in your direction, striding over to you. “The offer is still open.” Steve says, leaning his body against the locker next to yours. 
You glance at him, the corner of your mouth upturning into a smile. “Hello, Steve. Stalking me again, I see.” 
Steve lets out a nervous laugh, leaning towards you. You smell his heavy cologne, the faint smell of hair gel. “I just saw you when I came out of Erickson’s class, it was pure coincidence.” You roll your eyes, batting your thick, mascara covered eyelashes at Steve. “Well, then.” 
Steve waits a beat, his eyes taking you in. He watches as you lift your thick U.S History book into the top shelf of your locker, exchanging it for an AP Spanish textbook, locks of your hair shading your face from his glance. “So, what do you say?"
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You never give up, do you?” You were amused, to say the least; boys have pursued you before, but seldom avidly enough to show up in the middle of the hallways, pestering your further. 
Steve shakes his head, “I don’t, and I won’t. I want to get to know you.” You suck your cheeks in, your lips puckering. You squint, making eye contact with Steve. “Why me?” 
Steve shrugs. “I’ve asked around about you, everyone has only good things to say. You’re pretty too, taking AP Spanish so you must be smart. I barely passed Spanish one.” You laugh again, holding your text books against your chest. “So, you’ve asked around about me, too. You aren’t very coy, Steve Harrington.”
Steve sighs in his head, wondering why he’s so loose lipped all of a sudden. His skin heats up, nervous sweat gathering at his hairline. “So, is that a yes?” 
“No,” you say, turning on your heel towards your Spanish classroom that is a few doors down from your locker. You glance over to your left as you realize Steve has joined you for the short walk. 
“Well, is that a no?” Steve asks glancing back at you. He realizes your classroom is close by as you begin to turn into the doorway. 
“No,” You say simply, standing in the doorway. He notices your playful smile, the way two dimples appear at the corner of your mouth, adorning your plush lips. You linger for a second, then move into your classroom. 
“I’ll pick you up at 9:30, then.” Steve calls after you, noticing students who walk past in the hallway giving him an odd look. He watches as you lift your hand, offering a wave, without turning around. Steve leaves the door, satisfied, though he knows he shouldn’t expect you to ease up on him in the near future. He’s got his work cut out for him. 
As you sit in your Spanish class, ignoring the lesson that’s happening around you, your mind swirls around Steve. You were breaking your own rules by entertaining Steve; you had made a vow that you’d ignore boys in high school, they were useless anyway, and focus on your school work, making sure you got high grades to get into a great college. It’s only for one night though, going to Jason Carver’s party wouldn’t ruin your potential of getting into Harvard. 
Saturday comes quickly, in the shape of a whirlwind in fact, and you stand in front of your closet, hands on your hips, as you survey your outfit options for the party that starts shortly. Steve would be around any minute. You decide to settle on a simple purple dress, tight around your waist, cut off at your mid-thigh. It was pretty, yet casual and effortless at the same time. 
While you waited for Steve to show up, your door wide open to ensure you wouldn’t miss the doorbell ring, you sit at the edge of your bed, English textbook resting in your lap. Studying before you left is the only way you wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving your pile of homework to go to Jason Carver’s party. 
After only a few minutes, the doorbell rings, echoing throughout your home. You grab your purse, slipping on short heels on the way out of your room. With small ‘clack’ noises, you make your way down the stairs, opening the door to meet Steve. 
"Well, don’t you clean up nice,” you coo, noticing the effort Steve put into his appearance. Nothing knew, you supposed, he was well known for being full of himself, standing in the mirrors staring at himself in the boys bathroom. 
Steve shrugs, his eyes unable to pull away for the way your dress hugs your body tightly. “You t-too,” he stammers, tucking his hands into his pockets. You roll your eyes, stepping out of your house, closing the door gently behind you. Steve follows you to his car, unbeknownst to you, getting a good look at your backside. 
Since he asked you to the party, you're all Steve can think about. Though he doesn't know you well, you fascinate him, drawing him in to learn more about you.
When Steve pulls up to Jason Carver’s house, the party is already in full swing. Cars clutter the halfmoon shaped driveway, people lingering all about the yard. Inside, grey smoke lingers in the hair, congesting your nose and throat. Loud music blares throughout the house, echoing onto the front lawn. It’s almost impossible to get inside the front door, too many scantily clad bodies filling the narrow hallways. 
Steve leads, grasping at your hand to bring you along with him. Under his touch, you shiver, feeling uneasy as being seen as Steve’s newest conquest. Whatever, you think, I’ll act as if I don’t know him tomorrow, it’s not a big deal.
As you weave through the thick crowd, people clap Steve’s back, mumbling ‘what’s up’ to him happily. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend Heather standing in the corner, surrounded by a few of your other friends. You feel a sense of relief, feeling annoyed with being associated with Steve. You wriggle out of his grasp, his head turning to glance at you. 
“I’ll catch up with you later,” you say, turning right into the living room. The kitchen, where Steve is headed, is to the left, in the opposite direction you’re headed in. Steve stands awkwardly, frowning at your decision to abandon him. “O-Okay.” He watches as you weave through the small crowd that’s gathered in the living room, slinging your arms over your friends, all of them welcoming you happily. 
When Steve has brough other girls to parties, they always opted to stay close by him, never leaving his side. Steve shrugs it off, weaving his way through the crowd that’s gathered in the kitchen. He makes it to the table, an array of alcoholic beverages strewn about. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Tommy lingering off to the side, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. They make eye contact, Tommy pushing himself off the wall to make his way towards Steve. 
“Where’s your girlfriend, Harrington?” Tommy says, watching at Steve carefully selects his drink of choice. 
“With her friends.” Steve says simply, his pride dripping away by the second. 
Tommy sighs loudly, shaking his head. “She’s not too impressed with King Steve, huh. That’s a first.” He claps Steve’s back, his fingers digging into his shoulder.
“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” Steve mumbles, popping the tab of his beer can open.  Tommy laughs loudly, shaking his head. He offers Steve a pitiful look, squeezing back through the crowd to find Carol. 
Steve takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid flowing down his throat. He suddenly has the urge to get wasted to attempt to heal his deeply bruised ego. Annoyed with the reality that you aren’t impressed with him as much as everyone else, he flees the kitchen, beer in hand, as his eyes scan the rooms of the Carver household to find you. Steve finds you sitting on the arm of a sofa chair, legs neatly crossed, beer in your hand, as you laugh with your friends who are strewn about the sofa. 
Noticing Steve standing off to the side, you turn your head, a smile already plaster on your face. "Steve."
"Enjoying the party?" Steve asks, his voice wavering. You shrug, taking a sip of your beer. "It's nice enough."
Steve stands awkwardly, your friends eyes lingering on him. Steve clears his throat, unsure of what to say. "Feel like dancing?"
Your friends giggle; Steve's awkwardness is so unfamiliar to them all, his confidence is well known across Hawkins High population. It was clear that you are what makes Steve nervous. "I'm good, I'm sure there's someone else that want's to dance though." You say, gesturing towards the crowd of teens that linger around the Carver household.
Steve frowns. He came to the party with you and you're telling him to find someone to bump and grind with? "I want to dance with you, not some other girl."
You raise your eyebrows, impressed by Steve talking back to you for the first time. You were getting a little bored with passing Steve off, his inability to function around you, seemingly nervous, was charming.
You look towards your friends; they shrug, mouthing "be nice," and "go dance." You sigh, kicking yourself off the arm of the sofa chair. "Fine, let's dance."
Weaving through the thickening crowd, Steve grasps your hand tightly, bringing you to the back porch where people have clustered together to dance. A boombox is set to the side on the ground, music blasting loudly with music from the radio. Groups of couples and friend groups gather together, their bodies moving rhythmically to the music.
Pulling you into the crowd, Steve places his hands on your waist, his fingers tightening on your hips. Feeling a little bold, maybe even flirty, you push your front against Steve, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
Similar to wilting flowers, both you and Steve bend forward, your foreheads pressing together, as you sway energetically, your bodies bobbing up and down, side to side. You can't help but smile, your tough exterior slipping away. Steve was just a simple guy, his title of 'king Steve' was obviously just a persona he felt the need to act like. He seems innocent, caring. You were starting to like this version of Steve you have in front of you.
"You're beautiful, you know." Steve says, his arms tightening around you. "I don't think you're as tough as you like to seem."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You aren't what I thought you'd be, Steve Harrington."
Steve laughs, his eyes twinkling against the back porch lights the gleam against the dark night. "No? How am I different?"
You shrug. "I don't think you're as much of an asshole as you like to seem. I bet you're sickeningly sweet under all that."
Steve's nose wrinkles, his cheeks flushing pink. "I guess you'll have to find out then, get to know me more." Steve dips his face lower to yours, his lips hovering over your lips. You can smell the light scent of sweet beer and the smell of his cologne distorting your senses. You bite your lip, leaning in a centimeter further. "I guess so."
Eventually you and Steve get bored of the Carver party, the excitement coming to a slowing halt. You're exhausted, your body losing all of your energy on the dance floor with Steve; your feet hurt and you curse yourself for wearing kitten heels to a party.
Steve drives you home; the windows rolled down allowing the warm air to seep into the car, the soft wind blowing your hair around. You lean against the car window, feeling the air blow across your face. You smile, feeling content with the way your night has gone with Steve.
Steve pulls his car gently up to the front of your house, the outside lights flicked on, waiting for your arrival. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning in your seat to glance at Steve. "Thank you for tonight," you say, folding your hands into your lap. "I, surprisingly, had a lot of fun."
Steve laughs softly, nodding. His hands tighten on the wheel. "My pleasure, I also had a lot of fun."
You smile, silence rolling over you and Steve. You sit back in your seat, biting your lip. Before you can speak, Steve fills in the silence. "Would you want to go out sometime, on a proper date I mean?"
You nod. "I'd love to."
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hunterwritings · 10 months
Note
I love your Miguel with a bubbly reader! Can we please see more of it? Like maybe Miguel is scolding the other Spiders and Reader walks in and Miguel is like a whole new person but still wants to murder the other Spiders? It makes me think of the tik tok where its like "IM GOING TO KILL THE NEXT PERSON I SEE" *Reader walks in* "Hi honey!" *Miguel with heart eyes* "Your back! I missed you so much (insert Miguel gushing about how much he loves Reader in front of Spiders)"
THIS IS THE TROPE I LIVE FOR
only for you | miguel o'hara
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summary: Miguel acts like a completely different person with you around. warnings: none | wc: 1075
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"How could you let something like this happen?!"
Miguel was seething; Miles swears he could almost see smoke coming out of his ears. The spider teens had almost disrupted another canon event and almost caused the universe to collapse.
"Listen Miguel, I know the kids made some mistakes but, that's exactly what they were! Mistakes!" Peter B. Parker tried to reason with him, with his hands stretched out and a stupid smile on his face.
"You want to put the fate of the multiverse on a goddamn mistake? I will not risk that." Miguel fired back.
"To be honest, I don't know what the big deal is, they ended up fixing it." Peter added. Miguel snapped his head around to face him, his eyes would be burning holes through him if looks could kill.
"No Peter, you don't understand the importance of this! And clearly, neither do you all!" He said, gesturing towards the teens. "It just shows that you are just as responsible as a child! So Peter, do yourself a favor, and shut the hell up." Miguel had venom laced in his words.
"Ooo...kay." Peter responded, shaking his head and pursing his lips together.
"Miguel, we know that we made mistakes and we are sorry, it will never happen again." Gwen tried to apologize genuinely to him.
"Uh, I don't apologize actually, I see nothin' wrong with what we did-" Hobie protested, Pavitr elbowed him to signal him to stop.
"You all know exactly what we do here, you know the importance of keeping everything in line. I'm this close to kicking you all out of Spider Society!" He yells, showing his fingers pinched together.
"You can't kick us out if we all quit!" Hobie laughs.
"Hobie!" Gwen snaps her head around at him.
"I- I- I can't even deal with you right now!" Miguel holds his pointer finger and thumb to his temples as he turns his back to them.
Just then, you swing in from the other side of him and jump down to land next to him. "Hi Miguel." You smile as he turns to look at you.
"Gracias a Dios [thank god], I'm so glad you're here (Y/N)." He seemed to have relief flow into his body as he reached over a pulled you into his chest. You chuckled in surprise from the sudden affection as he tightly wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Felt like I was about to lose it in a couple more seconds." He whispers into your ear.
"Well luckily, I showed up right on time then." You giggle as he lets you go and you look up at him with a smile.
"You have no idea." He smirked and shook his head.
"Oh thank god you're here (Y/N), I was afraid he was gonna start biting soon!" Peter laughed as you turned around to face the group. Miguel stared him down.
"Soo, what's going on here?" You curiously ask.
"Trying to have a serious conversation with people who have no respect for what we do around here." He snaps to them.
"Don't look at me! I wasn't even there, I'm just trying to stand up for the kids!" Peter says, holding his hands up in defense. Miguel just groans and shakes his head.
"Oh Miguel, maybe you should go a little easy on them." You say, walking up to him. He rests his hands on your hips and sighs when you lie your hand on his cheek. "I mean, we should be happy that no one got hurt and the universe is still intact." you smile at him and he matches your smile.
He hums in response. "Plus, I think this lecture will scare them enough to where this shouldn't happen again." You add.
"You'd be surprised how many of these talks I've had." He scoffs and smirks.
You laughed loudly. "Just remember they're kids and they're trying their best." You smiled and he nodded. "Be easy on them." You added.
"I will." He said softly.
You grinned before leaning up and pulling his neck down to pull him into a sweet kiss. You felt him smile against your lips as he hummed. You pulled away and smiled at him before hearing a beeping on your watching.
"Oh, I've got a situation going on in my universe." You say tapping the hologram on your wrist.
"You need any help with it?" Miguel asks, ready to leave in a second if asked him to.
"No, it's nothing major, don't worry. It shouldn't take that long, I should be back before dinner." You say, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking the other way.
"Oh! Maybe I'll grab some food from that Italian place we always go to!" You say, walking backwards to face him and smiling widely while opening up a portal behind you.
"Sounds like a good plan, my love." He agrees with a smile.
You chuckle before pulling down your mask and jumping into the portal as it closes.
Miguel's smile lingers on his face before seeing Peter B. Parker in his peripheral before he slung his arm around his shoulder and laughed. "Oh wow, you really love them huh? I can tell by the way you don't act like a raging monster when they're around." He jokes as Miguel just stares ahead, his demeanor was agitated. "Get off of me, Peter." He said with no emotion.
"Okay, not gonna risk getting my arm torn off today." He says, backing off from Miguel.
"Aw, seems like you're really in love, eh?" Hobie jokes and Gwen shoves him slightly.
"You're not helping, Hobie." Miles says anxiously.
"I'm not trying to." Hobie says in all seriousness.
"Okay, everyone out. We're done here. " Miguel says with his back turned to them and his hands on his hips.
"Let's leave before he changes his mind." Gwen whispers to the rest of them.
"If I have to do this again for any of you, it's gonna be the last time." Miguel warns as he points at them.
"Yes Miguel, we understand and we promise." Gwen says genuinely.
Miguel sighs and turns his back to them as they all turn to leave the room. A slight smile came to face at the thought of you prancing back into his space with food in hand. He stood and watched his communicator in case you needed his help, and waited for you to come back.
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lovifie · 24 days
Text
Meeting Soap 🧼
Masterlist — OG Drabble - First Morning
Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other’s body.
“Good morning, ma’am.” The guard at the door greets Simon, leaning down when he rolls down the window. He moves his sunglasses up to his head, resting his hand on the car roof. Simon looks at the guard with an astonished expression, making you wonder just how many of his expressions have you missed by the mask. 
You chuckle for the side seat, catching the attention of the guard who quickly turns pale when he lays his eyes on you, surprising you just for a second before you remember you are in your boyfriend's body.
“G-Good morning, Lieutenant.” He says, standing straight. Simon covers his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile. He clears his throat to disguise his laugh and turns to the guard. “You know him, right? Can we get through, then? We have a meeting with Price.”
The guard quickly nods, pushing the button to open the gate and Simon drives the car inside the base. He glances at you when you laugh, smiling as well. “I could get used to this, Si.”
He laughs softly shaking his head. “Don’t get high on power now, love” He parks onto his spot, turns off the engine and turns to you. “Alright, love. We need to talk to Price.”
“Your captain.” You remember nodding.
“Exactly, my captain. Older lad, big mustache-”
“Wait, I don't have your accent!” You realize, looking at him.
“That's fine, I don't talk to people enough for them to realize if I suddenly don't have the accent. Only my team may notice, and we are looking for them, so no issue.” He explains, making you cock your head at the mention of not talking to people. 
You nod, understanding what he means. “Alright, so… Price's your captain, and the other two; what were their names? Gaz and… Shampoo, was it?”
And it must be really amusing to him that you have remembered the names of his teammates for the way he chuckles at you. “Exactly, make sure to call them by those names, all right?”
You nod quickly. “Alright, I got it.” He nods as well and steps out of the car. You do as well and close the door after you, you turn to him when you hear him curse. “What's wrong?”
“The fuck are these?” He asks, and then you notice him fight with his pockets, making you laugh. He looks back at you, annoyed with the pockets.
“Use the back ones.” You say pointing to your butt. “Or let me keep them, you are not leaving me here anyway, right?”
He shoves the keys in his back pocket and starts to walk grabbing your hand to walk together. “His office is down that way, J. Price, got it?” He asks and you nod. “If he is in there, give me a call, alright? I'm gonna go check on the mess hall if the boys are there, call me if there is any problem.”
You feel a bit uneasy about being on your own on a military base, only knowing the names and nicknames of four men. Still, it looks like Simon must be someone people respect because of the way they move out of your way. You try to mimic the way Simon usually walks; looking straight ahead, always as if he knows where he is going and ready to kick out of the way anybody who gets in the middle. 
The captain's office is easy to find and you knock on the door, leaning in to hear if anybody says anything inside. When you don't hear anything, you turn around to look for Simon, well, yourself.
Only to find him next to a man who is leaning against the door, and just by seeing Simon's disgusted face you know he is getting hit on.
Simon's POV
There is nobody he is looking for inside of the mess hall, so he turns around to exit when he collides with somebody that almost sends him flying back. 
The feeling is so alien to him that it automatically annoys him, missing his bulldozer-like build. Strong hands grab his waist keeping him from falling and it only repuls him even more how easily the stranger can grab him.
“Careful there, bonnie.” A more than well-known voice says and he looks up to his teammate Soap. Well, Shampoo. The thought of you calling him that makes his smile for a second, which for his disgrace only fuels Soap to think this is okay. “Ye're right, lass?”
“Fucking peachy, mate.” He answers, pulling Soap's hand away from his body, hating the way he can tell he gets free just because Soap lets him peel the hands away. “Where is the old man?”
He raises an eyebrow, confused for a second before he figures out and he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Aahh, you are looking for Price, bonnie?”
“Yeah, right, Price. Have you seen him?” Simon asks, pushing Soap's hand out of his shoulder.
“Not yet, I'm pretty sure he is still coming back from a meeting downtown.” He says smiling, using the hand he pushed off his shoulder to brush his hair back as if it was his plan all along, flexing his arm’s muscles in the process making Ghost cringe. “But I can take ye to his office, keep ye company if ye want. I'm a great talker.”
“No, thank you.” Ghost simply says, before he tries to move away, getting exasperated with the way his mate is flirting with him. If only he had ever talked to them about you, if they had shown them a photo, something, he wouldn't have to be dealing with his mutt of a friend.
But Soap can't be blamed, a cute little thing like you going around the base. For fucks sake, the first thing he saw of you was your butt sticking out the door when Simon was checking who was inside. Soap is ready to risk it all for you. Plus, there are some real weirdos on base, so he is going to stay close.
He doesn't need to stay away, because the moment Simon tries to walk away from him; he crashes against somebody again. Once more, being grabbed by the waist, this time by even bigger hands. He is ready to fight but then he realises it is his body, which means is you.
“Ah, thank god it's you, I was about to-”
“Careful there, love. You almost fell for me, am I right?” You ask, pulling Ghost plush against your body. He looks at you as if you just grew a second head which makes you want to burst out laughing.
“The fuck is wrong with you, love?” He ask, eyebrow raised.
“The only thing wrong is that you don't have my surname, love. How will people know you are mine, hm?” You ask, leaning down and making a kissy face hidden by the mask.
Ghost chuckles shaking his head, amused by your lack of shame as he puts a hand over your mouth pushing you back. You laugh as well standing back straight, you check he didn't get hurt with the crush and then look at the guy behind him.
You have never seen him before, you just know he has the most confused expression the man can have. Completely immobile, borderline afraid and you need to fight the intrusive thoughts of just suddenly moving just to scare him.
There are many things going on inside of Soap’s head at the moment, he was happy he had found Ghost, happy to talk to such a pretty thing even if she seemed disinterested. He was going to get pissed somebody else got in the way, but he was then relieved that it was his LT; knowing the man was never interested in girls. Only for his stoic CO to start pulling the worst pickup lines in history; Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, shamelessly flirting with a girl. And on top of everything, it was working!
“That's Johnny.” Ghost whispers covering his mouth so the other man doesn't hear.
“Who the fuck is Johnny?” You ask back the same way, Johnny not being one of the three names you know.
“Shampoo.” Ghost answers snickers hiding behind his words. 
“Oh, hey, Shampoo, how you doing my guy?” You ask, giving your best impression of what you think your boyfriend would do. Obviously doing a horrible job by the way the other man looks at you when you clap his hand. You definitely need to talk to Simon about how he behaves around his friend. 
“Are ye feelin’ all right, Lt?” The shorter man asks, confusion still flooding his senses.
But he is not the only one confused, because what the hell does Lt means? Is that his nickname? And that is what breaks the act, you turn to your boyfriend before asking. “Your nickname is Lt? What does it stand for? Lil tits? You don't have small tits.”
Simon is infinitely glad that you only mumble the last part of your words, too low for the scot to hear. Not that the men would be able to take anything in, with how shocked he seems to be.
“Okay, there is no point in hiding it from you anyway, Johnny.” Simon says looking at him, not liking the feeling of Soap towering over him like a wall. “Something weird has happened.”
“No, that I can tell, bonnie.” He says grabbing Simon’s arm and pulling him close to him. “I think Lt must have hit his head or something.”
“No, no, Johnny. That's my girl.” He says, fighting off Johnny's grip on his arm. “We switched bodies someway.”
Soap looks at Johnny, an unreadable look on his face. Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like a cartoon. “Alright, wow, ye guys really planed that good. I almost believe it, that's a weird way to introduce yer girl to us, Lt.” 
You rub your forehead thinking about how to prove it. “Okay, Shampoo. Honesty. What about what I have done or said today tells you that I'm him?”
“I have to admit it was quite credible. But c’mon, this is real life, those things don't happen.” Soap argues, not even caring about the nickname.
Ghost finds the situation amusing, his girl arguing with his best mate, seeing her grow exasperated with him. In any other situation, he would laugh, because he finds it amusing. Until he doesn't.
He doesn't find it funny because someone grabs him from behind. He turns around to see a rookie, he has only seen him a couple of times, and doesn't even know his name yet. 
But the man is still way taller than him in this form and he easily overpowers him. It's different from Soap's approach, he quickly realizes. Because the scot was touchy and maybe stood too close for his liking but Ghost could easily push him back when he got too close.
This man? Ghost is using almost all his strength and he is unmoving. He is not used to this body, all the tricks he knows only work when he is double the size. He doesn't know how to take advantage of being the smaller one, not with this much difference. 
“Come with me, c’mon, pretty thing.” The stupid rookie says. “I'll give you a good time.”
It brings Ghost bad memories of his childhood and his more recent past. Feeling at others' mercy, a feeling so familiar and alien at the same time; it only gets worse because he can feel himself get paralysed with fear. 
“What did you say, dickhead?” A deep voice says over him, and when he looks back he sees himself. Ghost only has seen you mad once since he met you, you reached your limit and snapped when an idiot hit your car. Ghost was glued to the passenger seat on that occasion, not daring to get in the way of your anger but still looking at the mirror to see if he was needed. He wasn't.
He also knows that he is a scary fucker, everyone knows. But something inside him clicks when he realises that the idiot who grabbed him is about to regret it. 
A gentle hand find her way to his lower back, keeping him in place and the other grabs the soldier's wrist. So hard his fingers twitch around Simon's arm letting go. 
The hand on his back gently tug at him, moving him behind you; kind of in between Soap and you. You still don't let go of the man's hand, making sure that Simon is fine first. He looks still a bit shaken but something tells you is more an inside conflict than anything.
And once you are sure, you turn to the man. He isn't as cocky as he was just a moment ago, he is bending to the side you are grabbing him; pain pulling him. 
“Now, what were you saying about a good time, bitch?” You spit at him, you pull your other hand back just to gain momentum and you hit in right in the middle of his face. No kind of technique whatsoever, but Simon's body shear strength enough to send the man's head back and forth like a whip before he falls back like a corpse on the floor.
Your hand hurts, but you know he is worse. And it is at that moment that you take notice of the crow you are calling, the lieutenant fighting somebody right on the mess hall door. A big show. 
You hear Simon call you, but you still need to give a message to the asshole. You kick his feet, trying to wake him up; but he doesn't, so you crouch down slapping his face. You see him move his eyes behind his eyelids and you take it as proof of life. 
“Remember that the next time you dare to touch a girl, okay, buddy?” You say, the men still not really answering and when Simon calls your name again you look at him standing up. Two new men behind him, not that you care.
You walk up to him, cupping his face, until one of the men says: “Simon, my office. Now.”
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TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie
Hi my lovelies 🩷🩷🩷
I am finally updating it, I have planned next to meet Price and Gaz and then after that I have little plot thought about it, so if there is any scenarios you are curious about let me know!!
The way I was laughing to myself with the Shampoo thing, like, so stupid.
Anyway, let me know if you liked it with a comment and I'll see you soon!!
@tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr
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shanastoryteller · 4 months
Note
Happy holidays! Do you have any zagreus interacting with other gods? Thanks so much
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
Other people are learning about Zagreus.
Not that they know it's him, of course. He goes by the moniker prince.
Just enough to direct prayers and pay tributes, but a nameless god standing against Demeter? It's enough to send the whole pantheon in an uproar.
It's enough to send Demeter to heights of rage that Artemis previously thought her incapable of reaching.
There are gardens that her frost can't touch. Fruit she she has no hand in growing.
There are people who will not submit and die as she wishes it, blaming mortals for her daughter's death and so making them pay the price for a lost goddess.
Not even Zeus has rained destruction upon the mortals like Demeter had and not even Zeus can stop her.
It's too much. Too much taken, too much suffering.
Persephone was a sweet girl. But her loss is not worth the life of every mortal upon the earth.
Artemis is with Aphrodite, both of them having been evoked powerfully enough to send shivers down their spine. She leans against her spear and tried to think of any other way to fix this.
It's a town on the edge of collapse, a thick forest between them and the rest of civilization. In spring the journey is long but easy enough, but it hasn't been spring for a long time.
There's no game to hunt. Loved ones are dying. They beg and beg to any god that will listen but while every god can hear them no god can save them.
None but one.
But how would they know? This far out, there only contact is other isolated villages too deep in the world.
"I'm tired," Aphrodite whispers, knees pulled to her chest, something about her coltish in her helplessness.
Artemis has never tried this. She doesn't even know if it will work. But he won't ever find his way here on his own. "Can you keep a secret, Aphrodite?"
She shifts her head enough to look at her with a single garnet eye. "What secret do you have, sister mine?"
"Aphrodite," she says warningly.
She huffs, amusement aging her. "Yes, yes, my silence or my life. What is it?"
Artemis hopes she doesn't regret this. She hopes it works. "Prince Zagreus!"
"What's Zag going to do?" Aphrodite blinks. "He can't even-"
She cuts herself off and Artemis knows she's thinking through the first part, coming to the obvious conclusion and rejecting it out of hand.
"Artemis?"
They both turn and Zagreus is standing there. Not as image or projection like he was the last time they met face to face, but solidly beside her in the flesh.
He grimaces in pain and raises a hand to his side before straightening and forcing his arm down. Whatever it is that keeps him in his father's realm still has some hold on him, it seems.
"I'm kind of in the middle of something," he says. There's blood on his teeth. There wasn't any a couple seconds ago. "Oh, hi Aphrodite. Er. Please don't tell anyone."
"It's you?" Aphrodite demands. "You?"
"I am me," he agrees.
Artemis would beat him if they had the time for it. "Can you help them? This village will die. Word of you hasn't reached them and your temples are too far to travel too even if they had."
He grins it's all red. His blood drips down his chin. "It's not going to be pretty."
Artemis has never thought about how exactly the god of life and blood spreads his blessings. She thinks she's regretting that now.
"Pretty's my domain anyway," Aphrodite snaps. "Help them."
Zagreus moves too quickly for Artemis to stop. He grabs her spear and slices down his chest and then there's blood everywhere, pouring out of him, more than should be in any one body.
Aphrodite screams and Artemis wrenches the spear away, horrified. "This is celestial silver! You can't - even gods can't heal from it!"
"Death heals all wounds," he says and there's blood down his chin, spilling out his mouth with his every breath.
Then he's running.
They talk off after him and it's easy to follow his trail, the deluge blood and smell of copper filling her nose as they chase him.
Zagreus is mad. When she wasn't looking he went insane and now she's killed him.
They have to slow him down, have to get him to Hermes. It should be easy, they're goddesses and he's dying, but he stays fast enough to stay just out of their grasps.
He's lose a body's worth of blood a dozen times over and yet still more flows.
He finally trips and falls, giving gurgling breathes.
"Zagreus!" she shouts as she and Aphrodite fall into the snow beside him. "Zagreus, hold on, it's going to be okay."
He laughs and pats her cheek. He's too pale. "Relax. I die all the time."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Aphrodite demands, trying to put her hands over the wound but it's too long to stem.
Zagreus doesn't answer.
His body goes slack and it takes Artemis several seconds to realize the person screaming is her.
Aphrodite is sitting there shell shocked and bewildered and then Zagreus's body sinks into the earth, not even reacting to Artemis's attempts to hold on.
"Oh."
She looks up and Aphrodite is looking behind them. Artemis slowly follows her gaze.
Every place blood touched the ground, there now grows bushes of bright purple berries, more vibrant than any fruit she's seen grow that shade. They grow thick and fat on every branch and if there anything like the other food in Prince's gardens, it will keep them alive and they'll be able to grow more themselves.
If they're willing to sacrifice the blood.
The next time Artemis sees Zagreus, she's going to kill him.
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mactiir · 7 months
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ranking baldur's gate characters by how i think they smell
#9) Minthara. Because she’s a corpse, next question.
#8) Lae'zel. You know this woman has never bathed. Washing is for the weak, is'tik. She says this is because needs her musk to attract mates but mostly it's cuz Gith education doesn't exactly make time for personal hygiene. Once it got so bad that Tav dragged the whole party through a chest-deep stream and stood there for 20 minutes to take a "breather" while Laezel stared daggers at them the whole time.
#7) Karlach. I want Karlach to smell nice so badly, and Karlach probably wants Karlach to smell nice too, but you know this woman smells like brimstone and engine exhaust and sweat. On good days she smells like the fine char you get on burgers on a summer day. On bad days she smells like a truck stop at peak hours, and the truck stop is also on fire. She's not happy about this either.
#6) Gale. Gale tries to keep himself groomed, he really does. But he looks like he is perpetually just a tiny bit smelly. Like he hyperfocused on a book slightly too hard for slightly too long and as a result he forgot to shower for a week. He acts like he bedded Mystra because of his towering intellect but really it's cuz gods don't have human senses of smell. His nightshirt looks velvet, too, and you KNOW it can't be easy to get smells out of that shit without a washer. He is one of those poor guys who is cursed to always stink a little bit no matter how much he showers. When Tav confronts him about this he decides, on the spot, that deodorant is for anti-intellectuals, actually, which he wouldn't have expected Tav to know but it's okay, we can't all be enlightened.
#5) Minsc. He doesn't reek exactly, but you know he's 100% man musk, hamster bedding, and butt-kicking
Tied for #5) Jaheira. You know 100 years of living in forests and adventuring with Minsc has endowed her with exactly the same level of manly perfume as Minsc (except with notes of cedarwood).
#4) Wyll. He used to be the best-smelling until Mizora pulled him through every level of hell in rapid succession, and now he smells a little bit like brimstone all the time. He sometimes rubs fragrant herbs on his horns to counteract it, which doesn't get rid of the smell, really, but it gives his smell an interesting dimension. Otherwise, he has enough experience with adventuring, and is well-bred enough, that him and his things are usually well-groomed (and also because his dad was a freak about it).
#3) Shadowheart. This woman puts on tragic makeup every morning and changes her hair to reflect her religion. Appearances are EVERYTHING (especially when it comes to keeping secrets). Shadowheart smells exactly like she thinks she needs to smell to be religiously pleasing to her goddess and/or coMplEtE thE mIsSioN. She does get anxious sweats though, which are very distinctive if it's been a long day of adventuring. She never admits this, though. Ever.
#2) Astarion. Okay, so, sometimes, he smells just the teensiest, tiniest bit like dried blood. But mostly, he smells like baby powder and potpourri. It is a waste of good fashion sense and his pretty face to go about stinking like a beggar. (He does go through a brief 'Cazador can't tell ME what to do' phase where he stops bathing for a day, but he grosses himself out so much that he resumes his normal routime before anyone notices.)
#1) Halsin. You'd expect him to stink, with his whole smelly-hippy free-love vibe, but nah. The man smells heavenly. He spends all his time frolicking through fragrant herbs and lounging in scented hot springs with whomever strikes his fancy. He probably has a whole ass medicine cabinet full of stuff he uses to freshen up. His breath probably smells like mint and his hair like cedar. He probably puts coconut oil or smth in his hair. He knows how to smell good as literally any animal in the realms. Wanna know why? Dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than people. I bet bears do, too. You do Not Fuck As A Bear without understanding not only how to WASH your ass, but also perfume it. Halsin also knows: thou shalt not give yeast infections. And if you got bear dick, that means HYGIENE. It's a point of pride for him, actually.
BONUS: WITHERS. Withers smells like nothing. Like, freakishly, unsettlingly like nothing. Like, you expect him to smell like dust or pitch or smth. Nope. He's a black hole of smell. You come near him and if you ask, he resets your entire hygiene routine for 100 gold and leaves you smelling like roses.
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blackopals-world · 7 months
Text
The Missing Card
Introducing: Jester!Yuu
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(You have no idea that I've had this image saved for over a year and a half and I'm so excited to finally use it. Call me a clown fucker if you want I'm in love.)
It's about time we finish the Heartslabyul card deck.
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A "standard" deck of playing cards consists of 52 Cards in each of the 4 suits of Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, and Clubs. Each suit contains 13 cards: Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Jack, Queen, King.
But something is missing.
A card that despite what you think isn't in the traditional deck at least not originally. A blank card printed by mistake that became something more.
The Jocker had made its way to the deck and now the trump card that either makes or breaks the game lives on.
There is a special rule at Heartslabyul. One that Riddle loaths to acknowledge. The contradiction to everything he knows.
It is the Jester's privilege to be exempt from the rules of the courts.
It's a rule that many don't read and it's for the best that no one knows how to be a Jester.
What is a court without its fool?
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They met at exactly 12 pm during afternoon tea.
They sat sideways in the queen's chair happily eating tarts.
"You! How dare you sit in my chair and show such flagrant disrespect for the rules of this dorm!" Riddle shouted pointing at the colorfully dressed student.
Said student looked over the table at the group of assembling crowd of students who were arriving for the tea party.
Smiling wildly they did a somersault across the table and landed in front of the drom leader.
"I have arrived my queen! Your new and approved jester of your court!" They said spinning before falling into a low bow. The bells and ribbons braided into the hair fluttering around them.
Riddle got a good look at this "jester" and they certainly looked the part. The star painted over their eye and the black and red costume fit Heartslabyul like a glove. Their upper lip was painted black and their lower a bright scarlet. It was garish but beautiful.
"Approved? Who approved a clown like you to be a jester!" Riddle ordered.
Ace and Deuce looked in opposite directions as he said this.
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It wasn't intentional but Ace and Deuce had run into a street performer in the town near the school.
"Come one, come all and see the show!" They said balancing on a giant ball juggling pins.
They sang, did tricks, played music, did magic tricks, and all around entertained the crowd.
Ace and Deuce were mystified by the show so much they ended up watching the whole thing.
When it ended the performer tanked everyone as they began to pack up.
"Hey, where did you learn those tricks?"Ace didn't want to miss the chance to learn a few new card tricks.
"You must be an amazing wizard! I didn't even see you wave a wand!" Deuce innocently.
"Dude, they obviously just used tricks and not magic." Ace sighed.
The performer laughed. They told them they did shows to earn money while at school.
"It's easy to put on a show but real magic isn't something I can do. Sucks when you go to a magic college but I think it's fun." They smiled.
"Wait you go to NRC? I've never seen you before." Ace asked trying to remember their face.
"Ace? What are you talking about? We sit next to each other in Trein's class." They covered their mouth giggling.
Suddenly it clicked.
"Yuu?! You're Yuu?!" Ace yelled incredulously.
Yuu was just some quiet kid that didn't say much. The only thing that stood out about them was just how dull they were. Not that Ace said that to them. Yuu kind of just blended into the background.
"In the flesh!~♡ I was wondering when you'd notice." They said cheerfully.
"Well you are always with Grimm it's hard to put it together," Ace said rubbing his neck
"Yeah, you don't stand out at all otherwise-" Deuce began before Ace slapped his hand over his mouth.
"It's okay, I know how people see me. But I can hardly walk around in costume around campus no matter how fun it sounds." Yuu pouted absent-mindedly shuffling a deck of cards that appeared out of nowhere. "If I could go all out and do shows whenever school would be more fun."
"You're telling me. Having a personal clown would make Riddle's scolding bearable. Man that would be funny if you'd pie him in the face." Ace cackled at the thought. "You'd make a good...what's it called...oh, a fool."
"A fool? You mean like a royal jester?" Yuu asked pursing their lips in thought.
"Yeah, you could really take Riddle down a peg if you were. Honestly, morale gets so low when he's in a bad mood. He needs to have more fun." Ace ranted unknowingly giving Yuu an idea.
Deuce nodded in agreement as he examined Yuu props. The top hat looked pretty cool on him.
"Actually that sounds fun. I think I'll make a great jester!" Yuu laughed heartily.
They had no idea what chaos they had welcomed to Heartslabyul.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 2 months
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"Damn, what the hell fertility drugs did that doctor put you on?" Marissa's husband, Tom, asked.
"I dunno." She smiled big, shrugging. "But I think I love it..... Just look at this belly, I'm so huge!"
"I know..... I'm just in awe. You pushed out sextuplets last time and he still upped your dose?"
"Yep! He said he wasn't happy with how many I was having. That a fertile young woman like me should be carrying at least a dozen at a time....."
"Wait, a dozen? Babe, you can't be serious."
Marissa giggled. "What? Are you surprised? Tom, I'm only four months along. What did you think was happening? I bet I'm carrying even more...."
"Holy shit, you're gonna be immobile by the six month mark. Your belly will be bigger than that yoga ball of yours!"
"I know..... isn't that so hot? I'll be totally helpless..... Not even when I was carrying sextuplets was I that helpless. Sure, I needed you to push me in a wheelchair, which was fun. I loved explaining to people around town that I was too pregnant to walk. Everyone loved it, although a lot were bummed when I told them you didn't have me paralyzed from the shoulders down finally, since that's such a popular thing for husbands to do......"
"Hey don't tempt me. Your doctor keeps asking me if I want it. But you'll already be helpless enough, I think."
"Who knows! It could help spice up our marriage a bit! You'll already be so used to caring for me. Are you even going to bother clothing me before you show me off to the neighborhood?"
"I wasn't exactly planning on it...."
"Mmmmm, I'll bet. I just love having you take care of me, I can't believe how independent and against being a traditional wife and mother I used to be."
"When we met you had a buzzed head, hated the idea of kids, and you were even thinking of transitioning into a guy."
"I was so naïve about what a simpleminded breeder I wanted to really be. Totally in denial..... Thankfully after you knocked me up I came to my senses..... Now I'm starting to think twelve or thirteen kids might be too easy for this womb of mine. I think I can carry way more."
"I dunno, might hurt a lot to get that big, I might have to make a call and get that spine snipped..... you'd look so cute totally helpless, unable to move or feel a thing except your head. Then you'd really just be a big over-inflated womb and nothing more."
"I'm starting to like the sound of it more by the day..... My body will 100% be devoted to you, yours to do with as you please all day, every day. And the only thing I can do is watch you enjoy yourself..... OK. Do it! Call the doctor tomorrow morning! This'll be soooo much fun!"
Tom took out his cellphone. "Why wait til tomorrow? I'll just claim it's an emergency and you're in a lot of pain....."
"Just promise me one thing."
"OK?"
"While we wait for the ambulance please fuck my brains out so I can feel your cock in me one more time! I'll miss cumming so much.... But I want to show you I really mean it. I'm only a womb, and I'll be yours. This is the best way to prove I belong to you and you alone. ❤️"
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r3medialch8os · 2 months
Text
devastating trobed quotes (a list)
does thinking of troy and abed ever make you inexplicably upset? well, it's all in the text! aside from troy and abed serving as frequent comedic buffers, they are given some weighty emotional scenes throughout community's run. just look at the meat of these lines!
we just won't get masking tape (what a beautiful, simplistic way to portray how troy is able to think around abed's systematic manner of viewing their friendship in its beginning stages as well as an illustration of how he deals with conflict)
i love you (pure honesty in a moment of intense distress)
i know (both a reference, because it's easy, and the truth)
you don't like people who tell you what to do, and i don't wanna be one of those people (one of the more heartbreaking things said between the two of them, with troy knowing exactly abed's qualms and negative experiences with being controlled, not wanting to add to it, and still having to fall into the pattern for the sake of keeping him safe, fearing he's risking their friendship by doing so)
you weren't supposed to think those things (you of all people, the person i trust most in this whole world)
this is going to be the last thing we ever do together, we can't stop (what the actual fuck)
i know you hate when people do this in movies (whispered quietly to abed by troy, without anyone else hearing, one of the most romantic, intimate lines in the whole show, argue with the wall)
you're gonna have to trust that you're gonna have to trust me (said to someone with severe trust issues, and for good reasons, just an incredible invocation of the bond they have)
for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, i knew someone would come (as someone who was bullied in high school, this line hits so fucking hard, aren't we all waiting on this moment?)
you were out there somewhere, and you weren't looking for me? (devastating in a way where i simply cannot believe they throw words like these around casually)
the floor can't be lava forever, the game's gotta end (troy, perpetually insistent on indulging abed, on letting him do his thing, on enjoying his imagination, has to be the one to bring him back to reality this time, and even if he tries to do it as gentle as possible, it will never not rip my fucking heart out)
it's not a game for me troy. i'm seeing real lava because you're leaving, it's embarrassing. i don't wanna be crazy but i am crazy so i made a game that made you and everyone else see what i see. i don't want it to be there either, i swear. i want you to be able to leave but i don't think the lava goes away until you stop leaving (fuck it, i'm putting the whole thing, not a lot makes me cry but abed so clearly experiencing disillusion and trying to assuage troy while also communicating to him how hard it is to accept him leaving all with an air of embarrassment and hopelessness and desperation will do it for me, thank you very much)
i'm not leaving, okay? i promise. the floor's not lava now, just give me your hand (all i can say is that i bet it tore abed to pieces hearing these words)
i think i might be able to let troy go now (the way he says it too)
when i cloned you i had to patch some missing parts of your dna with genes from a homing pigeon. you may notice side effects like a compulsion to come back (in other words, i am in love with you and i never found the right time to say it)
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fuxuannie · 11 months
Note
🐠 haii for the requests milestone thingy could u do pavitr prabhakar x reader and the prompt “are we ab to kiss rn” and then the other actually leans in? c: TY IF U CAN ‼️❤️💖
↳ pairing : pavtir prabhakar x g-neutral reader
↳ synopsis : request ♡
↳ authors note : EUEEUEEU this is sosososo cute actually, i love this idea sm. ATSV SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!! im not entirely sure if i like this.. bute eeurrueue i tried my best
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You and PAVITR had known each other for a while, long enough that he trusts you with his secret of being Spiderman with how close you two were.
Now you were on one of the tallest buildings in Mumbattan, swinging your feet over the ledge as Pavitr sat beside you with his hand unintentionally holding onto yours firmly since there was a small bit of lingering fear at the idea of you falling.
"Jeez, finally.. a break." He sighs in relief, taking off his mask with his free hand as you chuckle. "Isn't being Spiderman supposed to be sooo easy, Pav?" You teased, watching him roll his eyes in amusement. "Well, of course it is. But it certainly is busy, and I really just wanna spend time with you." Pavitr answers honestly, noticing how you seemed to be even just a little surprised and he was very entertained by that idea. You can already see his own little smirk beginning to form.
You clear your throat to hopefully shift the topic. "What made you so burnt-out today then?"
It didn't take long for you to see how his face shifts to a frown, and you knew exactly what he was about to bring up. "Miguel.. he's been so hard on some of us recently, especially the new-comers who he introduced the 'canon events' to." Pavitr runs a hand through his hair, his sigh was a mix of sadness and frustration as he recalls the events that occured earlier in the day. "They just want to save their loved ones.. no one can accept that kind of information and simply allow it to happen, you know?"
You nod along with his statement, unable to even imagine the dread those people must feel, just waiting for the people they care about most to die for their own development.
"But that's a sad topic, and today is supposed to be a nice resting day for the both of us." Pavitr smiles a little to lighten the mood, squeezing your hand softly as you take a deep breath. "Mines not been the best either.."
The smile he tries to hold falters at those words.
"Mom.. she's still very insistent on the arranged marriage." You let out a forced and bitter laugh. "I don't.. I mean, I don't know if I want to marry that person when I'm older. I've met them twice, Pav. And in the future, I have to spend every single loving who is essentially a stranger. Isn't that even a little weird in my parents eyes?"
He hated seeing how hopeless you looked, having no choice in who you want to love is devestating and in some cases lonely. Seeing real couples on the street and wondering what kind of innocent love you're likely missing out on.
Pavitr stands up and your head follows him as he does so, watching his determination-filled face as he pulls you up with ease. "Let's not wallow in sadness, yes? I'd much rather see you smile than frown." His hand makes its way to your cheek, causing you to chuckle softly as you lean into the touch and place your hand over his. "Thanks, Pav."
And without thinking, the next sentence you manage to stupidly utter out is; "Gosh, I wish you were the one I married instead."
You can see the visible surprise in his face when you say that, before you realize what exactly escaped your lips. "W-wait..-"
But it seems like Pavitr seems more affected than you, the hand once placed on your cheek immediately pulled back to cover his mouth and the uncontrollable but flustered smile on his face.
"You want to marry me??"
Instead of a mocking or angry tone, he seems genuinely happy that the person he's had a secret crush on for year or so finally gives some sort of hint that he's more than a friend.
"Do you mean it? Like.. really mean it?"
"I mean, yeah! Anyone would want to marry you.."
There's silence exchanged between the two of you, staring at each other in confusion, disbelief and surprise.
"What? Are we about to kiss right now?"
Pavitr teased to ease his nerves, but imagine how much worse they got when you actually started to lean in. He begins to quietly panic, however in all honesty he wants to do nothing else but kiss you at the moment. What if he never gets the chance to do it again? He couldn't risk that.
He finally presses his lips against yours, albeit very very nervously but a kiss is a kiss and goodness is he into it. Pavitr melts into the intimacy, but is very quick to pull away incase you're uncomfortable.
It seems almost impossible how fast his heart is racing when he watches your eyes flutter open and the realization that you actually kissed Pavitr rushes through your head quickly.
...
"Can we do that again..?"
"Gladly."
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
The Kind of Girl I Could Love | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: Bob has a secret admirer, but he's convinced it's actually Jake and Nat messing with him. 
Warnings: Pure fluff
Length: 1900 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader
I wrote this for my Love Is In the Air playlist! Check my masterlist for more!
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It started out with a simple note.
I like your glasses.
Bob held the note card in his hand and glanced around the deck of the aircraft carrier as discreetly as he could. There were people everywhere. Anyone could have left this for him to find on his seat inside the cockpit of the F/A-18 that he shared with Phoenix. 
I like your glasses.
Bob didn't even like his own glasses. There was nothing to like about them. They made him look even more awkward than he already felt, and he couldn't wear anything else, or he wouldn't be allowed to be in the Super Hornet at all.
So he scrutinized the handwriting, but it didn't look familiar. And that's when it dawned on him. Phoenix and Hangman were just messing with him. They did this from time to time. One time they covered his car in post-it notes. Another time they hid his helmet bag from him. 
He rolled his eyes and scrunched the note up in his fist. Bob was completely unremarkable. Nobody would ever leave him this kind of note. Nat and Jake should have known he wouldn't fall for it this time.
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Bob found a second note a few days later.
Your smile is nice. I wish you would smile at me.
He sighed and tilted his face up to the heavens. Great. Now he was going to have to call Nat and Jake out on their little pranks. He could feel his cheeks flushing pink this time. It was so embarrassing that his teammates thought it would be funny to do this to him. Nat knew how shy he was, and how he wished he could find a girl to date. 
Bob glanced around again. There were a few women on deck at the moment. None that looked like they would be remotely interested in him. They were all either too old or too attractive. And who would have access to his cockpit seat anyway? 
It wasn't a good idea to get his hopes up when he just knew who was behind this. 
"What's wrong with you?" Nat asked as she climbed her ladder. "I already apologized for eating your croissant! I didn't know you were saving it for later!"
Bob shook his head. "This isn't about the croissant, Phoenix. But I wish you and Hangman would stop picking on me."
"Huh?" she asked before boosting herself into the seat in front of him.
But it was time to get to work, so Bob crumpled up this note as well and tossed it into his helmet bag. "We can talk about it later," he mumbled as he started his preflight safety routine. 
---------------------------
Now things were getting out of hand. 
You look handsome in your flight suit. Tall and strong.
Bob took another close look at the handwriting. It looked fancy and feminine, but nothing like Nat's. He supposed Jake would be able to imitate something like this if he really tried. 
"Hey, Hangman," Bob called to him. 
Jake turned and shrugged at him from the top of his own ladder. "Yeah?"
"Can you just knock it off?" Bob asked, waving the note card in the air.
Jake squinted like he was trying to see what Bob was holding. "What are you talking about, Bob?"
"The notes!" 
But it was too late, because now all of the conversation was being drowned out by the deck speaker system. The final mission announcements were being made as Phoenix got settled into her set. 
Bob would have to talk to them both later.
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"I know I'm an easy target, and I know I don't usually get annoyed, but please. Please, just stop."
Jake and Nat both looked at him from across the table as they ate their dinners later that night. 
"Stop what exactly?" Jake asked. "Is this what you were trying to tell me earlier?"
Bob's cheeks flushed. He couldn't believe they were going to make him spell it out like this. 
"The notes, guys," he said, pulling the newest note card out of the pocket of his flight suit and sliding it across the table. "It's not funny."
Jake and Nat both leaned closer to read what was written there, pretending they had never seen it before. 
"You have a secret admirer?" Nat asked, her eyes darting up to meet Bob's.
Jake grinned. "Someone has a crush on you."
Bob took the note and crumpled it up. "I know it's you two, so can you please stop!"
Nat and Jake looked at each other. 
"Did you write it?" she asked, and Jake shook his head.
"Did you?" he asked, and she shook her head no as well. 
Bob didn't think he should believe them, but he really, really wanted to. Just the idea of someone thinking about him in that way made him want to smile. 
"It's not us," Nat said with a grin. "But we'll help you figure out who it is." 
-----------------------------
Bob didn't want to get his hopes up. But when he thought about who might have access to his cockpit, he immediately thought about the mechanical crew. And when he thought about the mechanical crew, he thought about you. 
He had seen you out on deck the other day, but you were so beautiful. Way too gorgeous to be leaving the notes. Just the prettiest smile. Sometimes you said hi to him, and he'd get so flustered, he could barely respond. 
It was too unlikely though. And he wasn't even sure if it was a woman leaving the notes. 
"I have an idea!" Nat said as she checked the air pressure in the tires. "Why don't you leave a note?"
Bob thought about it for a second. "I guess I could do that."
So he left a note on his seat asking who you were.
And the next time he climbed the ladder, there was another note card waiting for him. 
I'm too shy to tell you who I am. But I work closely with your jet. And I have a crush on you.
Bob's heart was pounding. There was nobody on the tarmac at the moment, so he showed the note to Nat.
"The plot thickens!" she said as she read it. "I wonder if it could be her."
Bob looked in the direction that she had nodded, and there you were. You had your hair pulled back away from your face, and you were wearing your typical jumpsuit. And you were smiling, your eyes catching Bob's for a split second. 
"Nat. Come on. She's so pretty.
Phoenix just laughed at him. "You're a catch, Bobby! Even if it's not her, you can still ask her out."
But he just shook his head and muttered, "No, I couldn't."
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Bob got two more notes the following week. 
Your accent sounds cute. Where are you from?
This person has heard him speak before.
Bob had only ever been complimented on his accent when Jake had as well. Everyone loved Hangman's Texan drawl, and only mentioned Bob as an afterthought. But when he wrote a note telling you he was from Montana, and asking you as politely as he could if you were a woman, Bob got another note in response.
I've never been to Montana. Yes, I am a woman. You sound smart and organized in the air.
If it wasn't for the fact that this woman had mentioned his glasses, Bob would have been convinced these notes were meant for Jake. 
And now Bob was facing a different problem: the aircraft carrier would be arriving back in San Diego in a few days. His missions were finished. He didn't have much reason to climb up into his cockpit now, and he still didn't know who the notes were from.
In a final effort to try to bring his admirer out of the shadows, Bob wrote one final note and bypassed all of the mechanics to leave it on his seat. 
When we dock in port, would you like to meet in person? Near the Admiral Kazansky memorial statue? I'll wait there as soon as I get off the carrier. I hope you'll be there too. 
On his way back across the deck, he saw you dressed in your jumpsuit, and you smiled and waved at him. Maybe Nat was right; he could still ask you out no matter what, even if you weren't the one leaving the notes for him to find. 
But he felt a connection with the note writer. She seemed to like him as he was. He never had to show off or pretend he was confident like Jake for her to notice him. So he would wait, and hopefully in two short days, there would be someone meeting him at the statue. 
-----------------------
Bob was starting to sweat through his khaki uniform, and it wasn't even that hot outside. 
"Are you sure I look okay?" he asked Phoenix, and she continued to make a fuss over him.
"You look so good," she promised, combing her fingers through his already tidy hair and readjusting his glasses. "Here, open up." She popped a mint into his mouth, and Bob rolled his eyes.
"I highly doubt I'll be kissing anyone, Phoenix."
"You never know, Bobby. I'm still holding out hope that the cute mechanic is your note writing secret admirer."
Bob let Phoenix lead him down the ramps when their deboarding group was called. He was so nervous now, he just wanted to go right home and pretend none of this had ever happened. 
"Go find your girl! Text me later!" Nat told him, pushing him in the direction of the statue. 
Bob wound his way slowly through the crowd. His heart was pounding. What if nobody was there? What if nobody came? What if it was just Jake waiting for him after all?  He felt sick, with clammy palms and an upset stomach as he neared his destination.
"Bob?" a soft voice called to him, and his eyes drifted up a uniformed body, his eyes coming to settle on your face.
"It's you? The pretty mechanic?" he asked, and when a smile found its way to your lips, you nodded.
"Yeah. It's me. Are you disappointed?" you asked, twisting your fingers around each other and shifting your weight from one booted foot to the other.
"D-Disappointed?" Bob asked, setting his duffel bag down next to yours. "No. I was hoping it was you. I still can't believe you noticed me."
You giggled, a cute, surprised expression on your face. "Bob, you were the most noticeable guy onboard!"
Bob inched closer to you, but you didn't back away. You actually stepped right into his personal space and ran your palms up to his shoulders and kissed him softly. Desire bloomed through his body, and as you pulled away from him, Bob leaned down for another kiss. His glasses bumped your cheek, but you didn't seem to mind as you kissed him over and over, until he felt a little dizzy. 
His glasses were askew, but he could clearly see the gentle flutter of your lashes as you opened your eyes and gazed up at him.
"Do you want to go grab lunch with me?" you asked, your expression so open and your face so pretty. "I want to hear all about Montana in your sexy voice."
"Yes, of course." Bob blushed and fixed his glasses, but he scooped up both duffel bags and followed you along the dock, listening to you gush about how strong he was. 
The last thing Bob heard as he disappeared into the crowd with you was Jake wolf whistling and Nat yelling, "Go Bobby!"
-----------------------------------
Bobby!!! So noticeable!!! Thanks to @thedroneranger for helping me shape this fic together!
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apomaro-mellow · 8 months
Text
Steve's parents compete to matchmake him with someone 1/?
Jonas and Diane Harrington sat in silence as their son's confession hung in the air. They'd met homosexuals before. You didn't travel as much as they did and not meet different people. But it had never occurred to them that someone so close to them - that their own son might be...
"Can you guys say something? Please?", Steve begged.
"Oh honey...", his mom started. "...Was Tommy?"
"What?", Steve pulled back at that. "Tommy? And me? Me and Tommy? No. We were never like that. Ever."
"Well, good for you son. You can do better", his father said, leaning back in his chair a little.
"He was so smarmy. You deserve someone who'll actually take care of you", Diane said, putting her hand on top of Steve's.
He looked down at the point of contact. "What's happening here?"
"Well, you being, you know, in your way, doesn't change our conversation", Jonas said. "We still think you need to stop sleeping around and find someone to be a little more serious with."
Diane nodded. "It's not good when all the gossip at the hairdresser's is about who your son is messing around with. Oh! What about Matthew?"
Steve raised a brow. "Your hairdresser?"
"Not mine, but he did fix me up when we were in New York, you remember the gala? He's nice, worldly-"
"I'm sorry", Steve interrupted. "I just told you guys for the first time ever that I'm gay, and you immediately try to set me up with someone?"
"Your love life is getting out of hand", Jonas said. He leaned forward and tented his hands on the table. "There's bets down at the bar. On who you're gonna knock up first."
"But if you're gay, we don't need to worry about surprise babies, right hon?", Diane smiled.
"Actually, I have a question about that now", Jonas started before his wife sent him a glare. "But we can save that for later. Point is, you need to hold on to someone for longer than a week."
Steve shook his head. "I can't believe my parents are talking to me about dating. What makes you think I can even get a guy? Can't exactly put the moves on them like I normally would."
His parents looked to each other, proving that neither of them really had an answer. With a sigh, Steve asked to be excused and when they granted permission, he went up to his room.
"Our Steve...a...a queer", Diane whispered.
"You think it's because I made him play football when he was a kid?", Jonas asked.
Diane shrugged. "If anything it's because of all those musicals we watched together. Then she released a heavy breath. It couldn't have been easy for Steve to tell them. And it couldn't have been easy for him to go on all those dates with those girls.
And if the rumors were true, he'd done more than date them. Jonas reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. From the moment their son had been born, all they had wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. Sometimes the healthy part meant leaving him for extended periods of time. Clearly, he'd been left on his own for too long. Surely they would have caught onto this sooner if they'd been around more, been involved more.
"What are we going to do?", Diane asked.
"You and I knew what we were going to do when we started this conversation", Jonas said, standing up from the table and putting his hands on his hips as he paced about the kitchen.
"Jonas, we can't give him Noelle's number now."
"Not Noelle, we just switch gears. Find a...a Nolan instead", Jonas decided, nodding as if to convince himself.
"Jonas, even if we can find another gay guy in this town, how do we know Steve will like him?"
"I know my son, I've got a decent idea what he likes."
Diane shook her head. “You just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about?”, Jonas questioned. “What, I can’t see what makes a man attractive?”
“Not the way Steven would. I think I understand this a little better than you.”
Jonas’ hands went to his hips. “Oh you do? You think I can’t find our son a date? You don’t think I know a handsome man when I see one?”
“Name one then”, she challenged.
“….Robert Redford.”
She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Easy shot. Now name five that are actually our son's age."
Jonas looked put out and rolled his eyes. There was...there had to be some rock star, who was Steve listening to nowadays? Did he have a poster of someone? Who was in the movies? Maybe he had mentioned a boy at school at some point?
"Well, the bar is very high Diane. Steven is obviously the best looking boy at his school."
Diane grinned and stood up. "Was. He graduated, remember?"
"How can I forget? The grays won't stop coming."
Steve's graduation had been what had sparked this evening. Not getting into college, their son had seemed directionless. And messing around with too many girls had been the cherry on top. They had agreed to a gap year for him if he could use the time to get his relationships in check.
If he was into men, that made it slightly more challenging, but they wanted to give Steve the freedom to find himself. It was more than either of them had ever had. And what good was all the money if they couldn't spoil him a little.
"So, maybe I don't know what he's into. Doesn't mean I can't find him a good guy", Jonas said.
Diane wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You do know a good thing when you see one."
They went upstairs to check in on their son only to find him halfway out the window with a packed duffle bag.
"I'm sorry", he said, leg hanging out. "There's just no way you guys were this cool about this."
"For god's sakes Steve, get back in here", Jonas grumbled, grabbing his son before he cracked his head on the ground.
"Believe it or not, your parents are capable of higher brain functioning", Diane said, already setting to unpacking the bag and putting the clothes away. "Some of this stuff doesn't even fit you anymore", she noted as she looked through his closet.
"Hey, how's about we all take a trip to the mall tomorrow?", Jonas suggested. "Refresh our wardrobes for the summer!"
"Oh that sounds perfect!", Diane agreed. "It's been a while since we Harringtons turned heads as a group."
Steve sat on the edge of his bed, looking tense, yet hopeful. "You guys don't...you don't think I'm any different? You don't...", his voice got small, "hate me?"
"Oh Steven!", his mother wailed and sat next to him in a rush, holding onto him tightly as she cried.
Jonas cleared his throat. "Di, there's no need for tears. There's nothing sad happening."
"I'm not crying because of Steve", she said defensively. "I was thinking about Matthew. I really hope he and Otis worked it out. And that he knows he always has family who love him. And that even if the world beats him black and blue he can always come home, okay? Always, you can always come home."
"Yeah mom, I know", Steve said, eyes wet as he got her thinly veiled meaning.
Jonas sniffed and patted Steve's shoulder. "And if the world does decide to put its hands on you, remember your old man's got mob connections."
Steve gave a watery laugh at that but thanked him anyway when his mom lit up in recognition.
"Oh! What about Ricci?"
"Ricci? For Steve? Get outta here", Jonas waved her off.
"Who is Ricci?", Steve asked.
"He's a nice boy", Diane answered.
"He's a numbskull is what he is. I'll do business with the mob, but I'm not giving them my son", Jonas said as he walked towards the door.
"Who said anything about giving? His family's well off, he can take Steve nice places", Diane said as she followed him.
Jonas threw his hands up in derision. "Mobsters are like five year olds with their dames. Once they lick it, it's theirs."
"OKAY good night!", Steve closed his door to shut out the rest of their talk.
"We're going to the mall at ten, honey! Be ready for breakfast", his mother called out, then continued her conversation with his dad. Probably debating whether or not to set him up with a closeted senator's son.
Steve rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He'd confessed tonight to get any talk of girls out of the way for the summer.
Mission accomplished?
Part 2 coming soon
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Text
A Fresh Start [24]
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Warnings: [18+ only] controlled training combat, self defense lessons, smut (we're finally here, folks), oral female receiving
Word Count: 6,444
Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.
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[a/n: so sorry this took nine thousand years. i probably have more announcements here but i'm bone tired so let's get on with it lolol also lowkey i did not edit this one to the degree in which i should have i am so sorry]
#24: RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS
"i'm not sure what this is between us, but i am sure that i don't want it to stop, whatever it is." -j.a. redmerski
What does one wear on a date where combat was the plan? It wasn’t a question you thought you’d ever be asking yourself, yet here you were. After staring at your options for another beat, you grabbed something you’d be able to move in. The more athletic clothing you owned weren’t really the cutest, but your goal with them was focused on utility. You could always save the cute outfit for your part of the date tonight. The idea of impressing Din by being competent on his date and then pretty on yours was appealing to you.
Din was dropping Grogu off with Peli until tomorrow morning. With every second he was gone, you found yourself more nervous. Being with Din was always so easy. That was part of the reason why you fell for him so fast. Having him as a cemented part of your day was natural. So, it made no sense that you would be nervous at all, but it seemed the butterflies in your belly didn’t give a damn about logic.
You wandered back out into the main room of the house and let your eyes glance over the decor you had already set up. The second Din had left the house you had tossed up the decorations. In preparation for tonight, you had food prepped in the fridge for dinner and you had hung string lights all over the kitchen and living room. A blanket was laid out on the floor with a few pillows just for comfort. It was a simple set up and initially it had excited you, but in the time it took for you to get dressed for your combat date your anxiety had grown. What if it were too simple? What if you didn’t know Din as well as you thought you did?
Before you could second guess yourself any further, you hurried out of the house. Din had told you to meet him at the tarmac which caught you off guard. You assumed this would be taking place at least on world. It made you curious as to what he had planned exactly. On your way to the tarmac, you returned the greetings to those who waved to you. A few even tried to stop you to ask about something medical and you had to politely point them toward the clinic where they’d find Aayla. Any other day and you’d linger to help, but you had a Mandalorian waiting for you.
You had only stepped a few feet onto the tarmac when a hand was suddenly in yours and dragging you through rows of parked ships. “Din?” You questioned the shiny, beskar covered man. “Hi to you too, honey.”
“I’ve had three different people try and stop me to ask about one problem or another.” Din grunted.
“Aw,” You chuckled, “I had people try to stop me for medical advice! Look at us. Staples of the community.”
“Today, they need to make do without two staples.”
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It had been a surprise when Din pulled you onto the little starship, but you were completely caught off guard when said ship broke through the atmosphere of a small, green world. You gazed out through the glass at the greenery that formed the large jungle you now flew over. He said he was taking you to a nearby, abandoned and uninhabited moon.
“Din…” You breathed in shock. Maker, this no named moon was gorgeous.
“You said you missed seeing the color green.” Din replied simply. Your eyes snapped to him in awe. It had been a toss away comment made quite some time ago. Growing up on Naboo, you had raised with forests and bodies of water. Then you bounced from Coruscant to Tatooine to Nevarro where the ground was non-existent or dry. 
Din steered the ship toward a clearing in the jungle that sat on the edge of a cliff side where you had a view of the never ending trees. It was just shades of green and blue as far as your eyes could see. As soon as the ship was safely parked, you leapt out of your seat and rushed down the now lowering ramp. 
The air was cool and humid. You took in a deep breath and marveled at how the smell of earth and vegetation filled your lungs. Din’s heavy steps came up behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to give him a broad grin. You were beaming in the reflection of his visor.
“So, this is okay?” He asked with an almost nervous tinge to his voice.
“Okay?” You laughed. “Din, this is…” You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck. Din didn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around your midsection and hold you close. “Thank you for this.”
“You may want to hold off on thanking me.” Din chuckled in your ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the rest of the date.”
You pulled back with a smirk and held a finger up at him. “I think you mean ‘courting session’.” Din let out a soft laugh before letting his hands fall from your side. You watched curiously as he began to unlatch portions of his armor. Your eyes widened and you glanced around outside the ship as if there would suddenly be a crowd where there hadn’t been one before. “What’re you doing?”
“We’re going to spar.” Din replied simply. “I want to make sure you can defend yourself.”
“And you need to strip down… why?”
Din huffed, “I’m not stripping down. I’m just removing my beskar.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You crossed your arms with a quirk of your eyebrow, “Who says you’re not the one who is gonna get hurt here?” Din laughed while pulling off his chest piece. The laugh was accurate. There was no way in hell you were going to even land a hit on him unless he wanted you to, but you feigned shock and disbelief. “Wow. How smug of you, Mandalorian.”
Din tilted his helmet at you in a ‘really?’ manner while pulling his cloak off. It left him in just his dark brown flight suit and you shouldn’t have found the plain outfit as attractive as you did. You continued to stand there and stare with a smile as he pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots. Din set his hands on his hips, and you motioned toward his clothes. “Feel free to keep going. I won’t mind.”
“Alright, enough.” Din chuckled and set his hands on your shoulder. He turned you around and lightly pushed you out of the ship. You laughed under your breath and once you stood where he wanted in the field by the ship, he let his hands drag down to your hips. You expected him to spin you to face him, but instead he just took a step closer. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his chest against your back. In a softer voice, he leaned his head closer to the side of yours. “How much self-defense do you know?”
“Oh, you know, the basics.” You mumbled with a little shrug. If you had to quantify the self defense you knew it would probably add up to less than the basics. Suddenly, before you could even blink, Din’s right arm wrapped around your neck in a choke hold. Your eyes widened and your hands lifted to grip the crook of his elbow to try and pull him away. “Dank farrik!”
Din flexed his arm enough for you to feel it but it wasn’t cutting off your air flow. You felt nervous for a whole other reason. His helmet was pressed against the side of your face in this hold, and he was so close that you could hear the slight static hum of his modulator. “Escape me, ner kar’ta.” You swallowed nervously and tried uselessly to tug Din’s arm away from your throat. He chuckled and you tried to kick his legs but even when you did make contact he didn’t budge. “You can do better than that.”
You thrashed your shoulders with a grunt, but he locked his grip. Din lifted you up so your toes only barely brushed the ground and began to drag you backwards. You yelped in surprise and rapidly tapped against his arm⏤ the universal sign for giving in.
Din set you back down and loosened his arm to hold you by the arms, “You alright?”
“Yeah, I am.” You replied. “I just didn’t see myself getting out of that anytime soon.”
He chuckled and slipped his arm back where it had been. Din nudged you and your hands went back to the crook of his elbow. “Step one foot forward.” You stepped out with your left foot. “And use your other foot to slip to the side and turn around. You wanna⏤”
Without waiting for the rest of his sentence, you tried to slip to his right side, but the second you tried to turn you found his hold around your neck tighter as he pinned you to his side. Din let out a soft laugh, and you beat on his back a bit to try and pull out.
“You slipped out the wrong way.” Din said.
“I noticed, thanks.” You muttered.
Din loosened his hold enough that you could straighten back up. “Try the other way.” You did the same thing, but this time you spun toward the left. Now, you were facing Din’s chest with his arm resting on the back of your neck and shoulders. “Good. Now push me away.” With all your strength, you shoved against Din’s midsection and you stumbled apart. “Very good, ner kar’ta. Again.”
He made you do it a few more times with his arm tighter each pass, and it got easier and more smooth every time you did it. You did it one more time, grinning triumphantly when you pushed him away, but this time Din lunged to grab you. His leg hit the back of yours and you went sprawling back. A cry of surprise left your lips and you braced for the blow of hitting the ground. However, at last minute Din caught you and carefully laid you against the grass the two of you were practicing on.
You opened your mouth to complain, but found your voice missing. Din was straddling you with his knees pressed to the ground on either side of your hip. He held himself up so he was carrying his weight on his knees and not crushing you. The sight of Din towering over you like this made you ache with need. He was right there. You could drag your hands up his thick thighs and to his belt with such ease. If this was affecting him the same way it was you, he didn't show it.
The sound of overhead thunder from distant storm clouds made Din look up as he searched for the source. Seeing your opportunity, you sat up and threw yourself forward to push Din backwards. Caught off guard, he fell back and you threw yourself on top of him. “Ha! I⏤” You didn't register what Din did, his movements were a quick blur of color, and suddenly you were on your back again, “Hey!”
Din grabbed your wrists to pin on the ground by your head. Rather than straddling you, this time he was situated between your legs. Oh, Maker. This was worse in the best kind of way. Din tilted his head, “That was cheating.” 
“Whoops?” You gave him a sheepish smile. Din shifted so his weight was pinning your arms down rather than resting on the back of his calves. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You know, I thought combat meant I was gonna get to punch and kick you more.”
“Should I be worried about how eager you are to punch me?”
You laughed, “Really though.”
“The chances of you being in an actual fist fight is lower than you being placed in a hold.”
“I mean, I’m planning to avoid both of those options.”
“I like that plan, but it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you at least know how to free yourself.” Din replied with a low chuckle. His hands lifted off your wrists to place a light hold on your throat. Your chin tilted up, making room for his large hands, and your reflection in his visor showed you that you were not hiding how badly you wanted him. Din didn’t apply any more pressure than the light hold he already had on you, but he did lower his face closer to yours, “You think you can focus and get out of this hold before we get rained out?”
You squirmed under him, hips shifting against his, and you felt his body stiffen. A slow smile crossed your face as you moved your hips more deliberately this time. Din let out a soft grunt, and you chuckled, “Guess that depends. You think you can teach me how without getting distracted?”
“Wayii, ner kar’ta.” Din murmured. He lifted a hand off your neck to grab your right hand and set it on the wrist of the hand still pretending to choke you. “Hold here and…” Din set your other hand on his left shoulder. “With this hold, you’re gonna pivot out from under me and put me in an arm bar.”
“Um, sure.” You said skeptically.
Din nodded to your left leg, “Put that foot against my hip so you can lift your other. You need it across my shoulder blades.” You tried to do as he said and it forced your hips up from the ground in a position that felt unnatural. “Good, good. Now that foot on my hip? Lift it and throw it over my head so both your legs are resting on my same shoulder.” With a grunt you did just that and it left the arm you had been holding trapped between your arms. Naturally, the hand that was on his shoulder fell to hold his wrist and you pushed your hip back down to the ground and it forced Din onto his back as you straightened your body. “Good, that’s⏤ah!” He tapped the thigh laying on his throat. “Good.”
 You let go of him, but the moment you did he was on top of you once more. You cried out, startled, but Din had his hands at your throats. “Again. Faster.” 
He squeezed just enough to get you moving. You followed his instructions, trying to remember each step, and you successfully got him into another arm bar. You let go of his arm so you weren’t accidentally hurting him, but you kept your legs where they were. One rested over his neck, right under his helmet, and the other on his lower chest. His arm bent so he could rest his hand on your thigh and he gave it a playful squeeze. 
Din began to laugh and the sound was so relaxed, so boyish, that it brought a warm smile to your face. You sat up, leaning back on your hands, and stared down at him. His entire body was relaxed as he lazily dragged his hand back and forth on your thigh.
“This position can’t possibly be comfortable.” You teased.
Din’s helmet turned to look back at you. “Ner kar’ta, I could spend the rest of my life right here.” He squeezed your thigh again and chuckled. “Right between your thighs.” Your face grew warm at his words and Din rubbed your leg. “You’re doing so good. Making me proud.”
You bit down on your bottom lip and watched as a drop of water plinked against Din’s helmet. Then there was a second, then a third, and then you and Din were in a downpour. You pulled your legs off him and the two of you scrambled off the ground and back to the cover of the ship. 
“Just… Just give it a minute or two.” Din stood at the edge of the cover so he could peer up at the now dark sky. “It’ll pass.” The clouds had rolled in quick and sudden, but they lingered. A full ten minutes passed and Din stood in his frustrated dad pose at the end of the ramp. You wandered down to stand beside him. He sighed, “I'm so sorry. If I had known it was going to rain I would’ve taken us somewhere else.”
“Din, this place is perfect.”
“It’s storming.”
“Yeah, but,” You set your hand on his arm, “We’re together.” Din turned his head to glance at you. “That’s all that matters.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt. You held your hand out to feel the rain against your skin. A thought occurred to you. “When’s the last time you felt the rain on your face?”
Din shrugged, “I fell into the Living Waters.”
“That’s called drowning,” You shook your head, “And it doesn’t count.”
“I took a shower last night.”
“Still not the same.”
He shrugged in response.
You squeezed his arm, “Well, this moon is uninhabited according to you. I can sit in the ship with the ramp up, and give you a second.” He tilted his head in what you assumed was confusion. “Everyone deserves to feel the rain on their face. Just to⏤ to feel alive, and we’re not getting any rain storms in Nevarro anytime soon.”
Din nodded once. You turned to walk back into the ship, but his hand slipped into yours. He squeezed your hand and pulled you out into the rain. You flinched at the first few drops, the cold water startling even knowing it was coming, and on instinct you lifted your head up so the rain splattered across your face. Din’s hand left yours but it was quick to find your skin once more. He cupped your jawline and you tore your gaze from the sky to his visor. His thumb dragged against your cheekbone.
“Close your eyes.” Din whispered.
Without hesitation, you let your eyes fall shut. Din’s hand fell away from your face. You heard the hiss of his helmet followed by the soft thud of heavy beskar landing on soft grass. More than anything in the worlds, you wished you could watch him experience this. Din let out a quiet sigh, close to a soft moan, and your lips twitched up into a smile. A pair of hands cupped your face and your own hands rose to rest on top of his. Din was close⏤ his body radiated heat. The tip of his thumb traced your bottom lip. 
“Gar're bid mesh'la.” Din murmured and he was close enough that you felt his warm breath fan across your mouth. “So beautiful, ner kar’ta.” Warm lips slotted against yours and you breathed Din in. As always, Din kissed you with every part of who he was⏤ every single time was its own unique experience. His hands roamed down your body, never leaving contact, until they found your hips. Din’s lips broke from yours but continued to brush against yours as he sucked in a breath, “I… You’re so important to me.” The hands on your hips slipped up and under your shirt. His touch hot against your cold, damp skin. “Everything, ner kar’ta.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his lips back against yours. The kiss was bruising. A desperate tangle of teeth and tongue in a attempt to get closer⏤ as if he wasn’t already pinning the two of you chest to chest with his strong arms. The kiss began to simmer in desperation, but the passion remained. Even when it seemed slow as you caught your breath, he continued to lightly press his lips against yours in soft, chaste kisses. As if he couldn’t stand being apart. 
“Din…” You murmured softly. Thunder rumbled overhead. The power of the sound competed with the pounding of your heart. Din nipped at your lower lip before dragging the tip of his tongue against the spot. You let out a soft sigh, and he pulled your lower lips between his own. His hands had slipped out of your shirt so they could instead cup your face and tilt your face at the ideal angle to allow him to continue his onslaught. He dragged his lips across your cheek until they pressed against the skin right under your ear. An involuntary shiver rocketed down your spine and you trembled enough that Din must have felt it.
“I need to get you out of the rain before you catch a cold.” Din mumbled against your skin.
You sighed and when he tried to pull back you trapped him by wrapping your arms around his torso, “That’s an old wives’ tale. Being in the rain doesn’t make you sick.”
“Fine, doc. I need to get you out of the rain before we get struck by lightning.”
“If you want I can make up some statistics about lightning strikes.”
Din chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound, and you felt him kneel down. You stayed in place until the cool metal of his helmet pressed against your forehead. At the reassuring touch, you let your eyes flutter open. In his visor’s reflection, you saw what a mess you were. Soaked to the bone with swollen lips. You groaned, “Maker, I look like a drowned porg.”
“A very cute, drowned porg.”
You shoved at his chest with a laugh and Din chuckled and began to drag you back toward the ship. The two of you left puddles in the ship and you helped Din get his armor back on. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable with how wet his flight suit was, but he’d be parking in a populated area of Nevarro and couldn’t go without it. 
“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.” Din said as you sat down in the co-pilot seat.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare apologize for the best first ‘courting session’ ever.”
Din let out a soft laugh and brought the ship up into the air. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh⏤ fingers curling into your skin as his thumb rubbed back and forth. You leaned back in your seat and despite the gorgeous scenery right outside the window, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his form.
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There was never a lull in the conversation with Din. Talking to him always came naturally. It made you silly for ever being nervous about your portion of the date in the first place. After getting back to Nevarro, the two of you had gone back home and when Din saw the decor you babbled through an anxious explanation of your plans. He had been delighted at the sound of it. It took no time for the two of you to clean up after the courting session episode. Din traded his armor for a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you had tosses aside the wet work out clothes to put on a simple dress that made you feel cute with buttons down the torso.
Din hovered over you while you made food and helped despite you telling him he didn’t need to. Then, the two of you just enjoyed one another’s company. Back to back, eating dinner, and basking in the glow of the string lights you had hung up.
“This really is so incredible. Thank you.” Din said.
You set aside your bowl with a chuckle, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Din.”
“No, I do. I know this isn’t…” Din paused and there was a tension in his voice you couldn’t quite place. He sighed, “This isn’t typical. I’m sorry I can’t take you to a restaurant in town and sit across from you for a normal meal.”
“Din, you don’t have to apologize for that.”
“But⏤”
“I don’t care about any of that.” You shook your head. “I’d have every single meal, for the rest of my life, hidden away or in private as long as it meant I got to have them with you. That’s all that matters.”
You felt him begin to turn and immediately shut your eyes with a mumble that he was safe. Din’s fingers found the side of your face and you allowed your body to follow his movements as he pulled you to face him. His lips were on yours again with no preamble or hesitation. It only lasted a brief moment, pure and chaste, before he separated to lean his forehead against yours.
“You’re too good to me.” Din’s voice sounded hoarse as his hand traced the side of your face. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve to be cared about⏤ you deserve to be…” The word ‘loved’ sat on the ip of your tongue, and you only barely caught it in your mouth before it tumbled out. You were confident of how you felt, and you were highly suspicious that Din was on the same page as you, but it was still terrifying to consider saying it out loud. “You deserve this and more, honey.”
“Have I told you how much I enjoy hearing you call me honey?” Din leaned back in and began to pepper kisses across your lower face.
“It’s come up a time or two.” You teased in response. He ghosted up your jawline, his breath hot on your skin, until they wrapped around your earlobe⏤ teeth nipping at it lightly. You couldn’t hold back a soft moan. “Maker, Din.” You felt his chuckle as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. Din carefully tilted your chin up and to the side so he could finish his line of kiss down your neck. “Keep this up and I’m… I’m not gonna want to get up, and I have dessert in the fridge for us.”
Din shook his head and dragged his nose up against the column of your neck to find your ear once more, “I have dessert right here, ner kar’ta.” His words, in that deep, honeyed voice, sent shivers down your spine. Want pooled in your belly as you melted into his hands. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.” You murmured. Din pulled away from you and you groaned at the loss. “Wait, no,” Din laughed at your whine and the sound was distant, “Come back.”
“Be patient!”
You heard his approach and felt him as he settled in front of you again. Din was wrapping something around your eyes and tied it behind your head. “That feel, alright?” You nodded in response and adjusted the blindfold to sit comfortably on your face. “Just want you to relax and not worry about accidentally opening your eyes or not. This okay?”
“Only if you start touching me again.” You grinned and tilted your chin up a hair. 
“Oh, mesh’la,” Din was quick to cup your face once more and he pushed you back to settle on the blanket softly, “I’m more than happy to.” You had never been happier in your choice of clothing than now with Din unbuttoning the front of your dress. One large hand cupped your breast while the other stayed wrapped around the back of your neck. Din let out a breathless whisper of Mando’a before adding in Basic, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
You shook your head, “I swear to the Maker if you stop I’ll kick your ass.” Din chuckled and shifted so he could rest between your thighs. You accommodated him by letting your legs fall open to rest on either side of his hips. “I know how to do that now since you taught me.”
“Teaching you how to get out of two holds is a little different from kicking ass.” Din replied amused. His hand left your breast and you felt the tips of his fingers brush against the scar along your collarbone. You stiffened slightly⏤ more out of self consciousness rather than discomfort or fear. Din leaned down until his lips pressed against the skin there. “Do you know how beautiful you are, ner kar’ta? Absolutely gorgeous.” You buried your hand in his soft hair, letting out a sigh, and Din kissed your scar twice more before letting his lips taste the skin of your chest. “Breathtaking.”
His mouth found the curve of upper breast. Din was careful as he pulled your bra down and when the cold air met your now bare nipples you gasped. More breathless Mando’a filled the air and only ended when Din’s lips wrapped around your right nipple as his hand held the underside of your other so his thumb could trace lazy circles around that nipple. Din’s tongue circled your sensitive skin and you groaned⏤ hand tightening in his hair. 
The Mandalorian was new to using his mouth, but just like with kissing he was quick to pick it up and passionate about exploring with his tongue. All of his movements were focused and completed with the discipline of a bounty hunter. Even in a situation that was new to him, he used his body with confidence by dedicating to the action. Din’s mouth spent ample time tasting the skin of both your breasts, sucking and licking, and your entire being felt like it was on fire. Every inch of you craved his touch, you were drunk on him and were left a squirming mess under his strong hands. Pinned to the ground under his broad body and blind to everything but the sound, feel, and smell of him. 
“Maker.” You gasped and tugged on his hair. “You’re killing me, honey. It’s…” He let his teeth lightly graze your overly sensitive nipple and your back arched in an attempt to follow his mouth as he pulled up. “Fuck. It’s so much. Too much.”
Din squeezed the breast his mouth wasn’t on and then crawled up just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “Sorry.” He hummed and you could hear the smile he was wearing. “Just can’t help myself.” Suddenly, you felt Din’s hand brush against the outside of your leg. It trailed back and forth from your knee to where the edge of your dress laid. You were already an absolute mess but having his warm touch against your thigh was making the need for him a hundred times worse. “Can I taste you, ner mesh’la kar’ta?”
You sucked in a sharp breath nervously. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip briefly. It had been a little while since you had anyone go down on you, and with the way you felt about Din you wanted things to be perfect. The thought of Din not enjoying himself or just feeling obligated haunted your mind and the anxiety dulled the pleasure. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? It’s not⏤”
“Have to?” Din’s fingers squeezed into the meat of your thigh and your hips involuntarily rolled up marginally to find a source of friction to ease the ache in your core. “There is literally nothing I could want more. I cannot even begin to describe how often I’ve thought of this moment right here.” You gave a small, weak nod. He squeezed your thigh once more. “Wanna hear you say it, ner kar’ta.”
“Yes, Din. Want that⏤ want you now.” Your desire beat out any anxiety you may have felt. 
Din crawled down until he could press a kiss to the inside of your knee. His strong arm wrapped around your thigh, settling on his left shoulder, and you found comfort in that hold. You let out a relaxed breath. Din was safe. There was no reason to feel any anxiety in the arms of this man. With that, the anxiety began to ebb away and with every kiss Din laid on the inside of your thigh gradually traveling up the ache worsened.
The edge of your dress was pushed up with his left hand and it splayed across your abdomen. “This is my first time doing this with my mouth, mesh’la. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Goosebumps formed across your skin at the cool air that now washed over you, but the weight of his hand seemed to burn straight through you. Din’s mouth pressed against your clothed heat. He kissed through your sinfully soaked underwear. 
“Din,” You gasped, your hand refinding his hair, “Fuck. Din.”
His right hand slipped under the side of your underwear to tug them down your thigh. Din kept your right leg on his left shoulder, unmoving, and he hummed, “Knee to your chest, mesh’la.” You did as he asked and he used the movement to slip your left leg out of your underwear. The second you were uncovered, Din groaned, “Good girl.”
He buried his face into your wet folds in desperation. What Din lacked in precision he made up for with eagerness. He mumbled words of Mando’a straight into your pussy between licking long stripes through your lips. Din worked in broad strokes of his tongue, and every few seconds his nose would find your clit. It’d either brush too lightly for you to fully enjoy or press firmly against it and send jolting strikes of pleasure straight up your spine. 
“Din, Din.” You moaned and he pressed in deeper, his tongue circling your hole. He hadn’t come up for air in a bit and you wondered how he managed to keep this up. Regardless, it was driving you wild. “Baby, please.” Din lifted his head and the sound of him panting was unbelievably attractive to you. “Shit, Din.”
“You alright?”
“Yes. Maker, yes, but…” You groaned. “I know you’re probably not meaning to do this, but you’re teasing me and it’s got me right on the edge.” Din shifted, you heard him chuckle, and before you could try to explain to him what you meant specifically when it came to his mouth, his thumb dragged through your folds up and straight to your clit. He circled it with insane precision and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as the arousal pooling in your lower belly grew and the ache almost sent you over the edge. “Maker! Din!”
Din pulled his thumb away and you were breathless. He placed a chaste kiss to your thigh where he could reach, “I’m not that unfamiliar with it, ner kar’ta. I told you I've used my hands.”
“Gotcha. So you were teasing me on purpose?” You scoffed and Din chuckled. You tugged on his hair and his breathy laugh grew louder. You grinned and shook your head. “You ass.”
“How about I make it up to you?” Din’s lips were back on you and this time he wasn’t just broadly tasting you. His precision had turned deadly and it was devastating how fast he drove you right back to that edge. “Taste so fucking sweet, mesh’la.” His tongue circled your clit before he began to apply enough suction that stars filled your vision. Your body began to tense as you spiraled into your quickly approaching orgasm. Din hummed and spoke against your clit, teeth and tongue brushing against it as the vibrations of his words buzzed against you, “Gonna come, ner kar’ta? Fall apart for me. Let me devour you.”
His lips wrapped around your clit again and the onslaught of his mouth had your orgasm washing over you. You let out a loud cry, his name garbled on your tongue, and as you came down from your high it felt like you were falling into a soft cloud. It was only then that you realized Din hadn’t stopped for a second. The slurping sound of him devouring you was downright filthy and you moaned again.
“Just like I said before, ner kar’ta.” Din dragged his wet lips up to kiss your abdomen in any random spot he could reach. “Could spend eternity between these gorgeous legs.”
You sat up on one elbow and blindly reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. “My turn, honey.” You gave his shirt a few tugs. “Want to taste you too.”
“Who said I was done here?” Din teased. He crawled up your body, still between your legs, and his hips pressed against yours firmly. You felt his hard cock straining against his sweatpants and he let it grind against your messy pussy. You reached down for the waistband of his sweatpants and Din’s hand rested by your neck to hold himself up while his other caressed the column of your neck and along your jaw. “I’m not done eating dessert.”
Your lips curled into a broad smile as you recognized the similar position you were in to what had been going on earlier today. Quickly, your right hand grabbed his left, the one holding him up, and before you could second guess yourself you let your legs kick up just like in the courting session until you were able to push him off you into an arm bar. This was the exact position he had been in last time, but this time you were unable to see him. Still, you felt your legs across his chest as you held his arm between your thighs. 
For a beat it was silent, and you were worried you had upset him in some way, but then he began to laugh. Without the modulator of his helmet, the sound was clear and downright musical. You’d trade your soul if it meant getting to see the way his face looked right now. You wanted to see his smile, wanted to see the lines that formed on his face when he laughed like this.
“Maker, you’re so perfect, ner kar’ta.” Din breathed as his free hand came up to caress your legs. “I can’t begin to… You’re… I…” He let out one more laugh. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”
“What does that mean?” You didn’t recognize those words.
“I’ll tell you one day. I promise.”
You chuckled, “Bold of you to deny someone who has you in an arm bar right now, honey.”
The hand you were holding between your legs suddenly tightened around your wrist and he pulled you toward him while pushing your legs off of him. With a yelp of surprise, he had you flipped so your arms and head were laying on his chest while your legs were sprawled out behind you. Din grasped the side of your face to pull you to his lips. His hand raked through your hair lovingly, and you sighed against his kiss. Din swallowed the sound of your content.
You felt so warm and comfortable against Din, and as if you hadn’t been aware of it before, it was startling how much you loved Din Djarin. 
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mando'a translations:
ner kar'ta: my heart Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever Wayii: Good grief Gar're bid mesh'la: You're so beautiful mesh'la: beautiful
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