#I tried to really pay attention to the comfort of reading the panels and not making them look too similar to each other

[himmelmidgard]

Maybe someday Sora will figure out why he wants Riku to call him this bad… 👀

#I was making it so long you don’t even wanna know… #or do you?? #according to procreate it took 17 HOURS!?? #(including testing the font I made for this so prob it was less of actual drawing time) #still more than I thought… #but it was a good practice! #I tried to really pay attention to the comfort of reading the panels and not making them look too similar to each other #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #kh #kh3 #kh sora #kingdom hearts comic #kh comic #my art #kh soriku #soriku #kingdom hearts soriku

[itsstrange]

Coffee Run & Green Eyes

Series: Spark Between Us

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!

But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚

✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨

Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.

Word Count: 2.4 K

Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊

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ENJOY!!

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The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.

“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,

Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”

“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”

Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.

“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,

Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”

With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.

That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.

Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.

Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.

****

8:45 am

“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,

The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.

“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,

No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.

“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”

It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.

“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,

“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,

Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.

Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.

After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.

“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,

Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?

She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.

“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,

He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”

Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”

The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.

“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,

As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.

That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.

“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,

Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.

Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.

“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,

Again.

“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”

Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”

He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”

Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.

“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,

With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.

“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,

“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,

Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.

“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,

“No kidding?”

She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”

He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”

Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.

“More like college. My last year,”

“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,

But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.

“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,

It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.

Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.

“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,

This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.

“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”

“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,

“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”

“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,

Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.

She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”

He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.

“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,

He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.

Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.

Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.

PART 2

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!

-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!

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#jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #Jensen Ackles smut #smut #Spark Between Us Series #supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester #Dean Winchester x reader #the boys #the boys tv #the boys imagine #Soldier Boy

[candychronicles]

bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

[dancingwiththeplanets]

Relief

Paz Vizsla x fem!reader 

     masterlist

Summary: “I know that we’re strangers but something really awful has happened to me and I need you.”

A/N: highly recommend listening to “everything i wanted” by billie eilish before reading because that is just the vibe.

Warnings: angst, ruminating, lots of dialogue, mourning the death of a parent, deals with depression and anxiety, soft!paz, a big brute with an even bigger heart

Word Count: 11k (oops)

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“Death changes people, it brings some people together, pushes other people apart...” You remember your buir’s words as if they were spoken to you just yesterday. They were the words he said on the day of your mothers funeral. “...but you and I, we do not let such things hurt us. We are stronger together, my ad’ika, we can only get through this together. Yes?”

“Okay, buir.” You said. Your wide, 5 year old eyes not fully comprehending the situation.

He nodded, pained, and whispered, “That’s a good girl,” before leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead and departing to the ceremony, your small form in tow.

He was right, death did change people. You remember seeing him in pure agony, as much as he tried to hide it from you. Your aunts and uncles would always be over, consoling him, distracting you, oftentimes just having you stay with them so your father could grieve away from your eyes.

But he never let it hurt your relationship. No, he was the best buir anyone could dream of. Your buir.

He was a proud man, respected and admired by all the warriors in the covert. Fierce, honorable, diligent and selfless. He would and did do anything for anyone. And the tribe respected him immensely. They even elected for him to be the Alor on more than one occasion, and he practically was. But he refused the title again and again, preferring to do all the work without carrying any official status. Even so, he certainly inherited the same amount of respect that the actual Alor had.

“All of the privilege and none of the responsibility.” He would tease, winking at you as the two of you would sneak out of the kitchens or any other ‘off-limits’ part of the covert, everyone turning a blind eye to your buir and ad’ika antics. Mainly just because they respected him too much to chastise you.

Truly though, he was a very respectable man. He trained the little ones, led hunts and security protocols for the covert, found lost Mandalorians and brought them home to the tribe. He dedicated his life to building the strongest and most operational covert that Mandalorians had seen in years. And he did it all for you. All so that you would have a safe place to grow up, so that you would lose as few brothers and sisters, and as few aunts and uncles as possible. So that you wouldn’t lose anyone just as suddenly as you’d lost your mother.

But he never prepared you for the day you would lose him.

The two of you were unimaginably close, so close that now you regretted ever developing a relationship that strong with him even if he was your father, because look at what it got you.

How were you supposed to go on? What was your life without your buir? What was this covert without your buir?

You look around the room, dozens and dozens of armored warriors here to pay their respects to your father, his body already having been buried.  The tears leak out of your eyes without reserve as you hold tightly to your friend's hand, scanning the room for the comfort of your boyfriend. “He’ll be here soon” She whispers, though you sense doubt in her voice, “I’m sure of it.”

------------------------

You’re not sure what time it is, only that you’ve spent yet another restless night collecting tears in your pillow. Your booted feet pad down the deserted hallway of the covert. It’s aboveground, hidden beneath the treelines of a dense forest on a nearly desolate planet. It’s beautiful, unlike most every other secret covert that exists, though very few do. It has bulletproof glass paneling all around to allow for light to peek in through the trees. It’s warm and inviting instead of cold and gloomy.

“We need a home. Not a prison.” Buir had said.

You wince, face contorting in pain at the memory of him sharing the design with you. He had a dream. He wanted to live the way he used to, on Mandalore. Embracing nature and training warriors in the traditional way. He wanted your small tribe to grow into the hundreds. And that it did, well, to just over a hundred at least.

The most recent tribe came in from Nevarro, about seven months ago. He’d managed to track them down and get into contact with their Alor. Though some members of their tribe were reluctant to merge- they always are- they soon decided to join forces with your own, strengthening your numbers. Plus, they got to move to a much more beautiful, safe, and spacious planet.  

Regrettably, you hadn’t gotten to know many members of the new tribe still. They were...different. Still pleasant from the interactions you’d had with them at least, good sense of humor and all, but they were devoted to the old ways of Mandalore, conservative, reserved, passionate. Most unusually they didn’t arrive with any women in their tribe, aside from their Alor. For some reason odd, universal reason, Mandalorian women were hard to come by. It was a troubling issue that distressed many people in the tribe, in any tribe. It felt like a curse on your people. But this tribe literally had only one. They obviously cherished and admired her immensely, they made her their Alor.

Also, their creed didn’t allow for them to remove their helmets, a drastic difference from the one you had sworn that didn’t even require you wear your armor all the time, though you and most everyone almost always did. You were still Mandalorian; Training, honor, armor...they were still as big a part of you as your soul was to your body. But everyone around here knew your face, and vice versa, even if you did spend most of your life behind the shield.

This week however, you couldn't bring yourself to put it on once. Hell, you didn’t even bother with your flight suit. You just stayed locked up in your tiny room all day and night, only leaving when you were forced out by your friends. “It’s for your own good,” they would say. You suppose they were right, but no matter how good of friends they were to you right now, their company seemed to make it all worse.

A part of you wanted Collin, your boyfriend of two years, but he seemed to disappear from sight every time you caught his eye, an action that made your friend, Brie, chase after him in a rage the last time. He had been so blatantly obvious. You were in tears, yet again, mourning your father, yet again, when you caught the flash of his grey armor slip past your crying form in the common room. The hurt you had felt was unimaginable. The betrayal. You know that your relationship was strained as of late, but this, the death of your father, how could he not be around for you? Even if just as a friend?

So here you were. Another sleepless night, another late hour gone by without the noisy comfort of the of the tribe at work. Your head was pounding from the tears, the dehydration and the pain. The kriffing pain.

This time you couldn’t do it. You couldn't stay trapped within the dark walls of your room any longer, quickly pulling on something decent to wear in the late night or early hours of the morning- you didn’t know what time it was- before mindlessly wandering the covert.

Empty. It must be smack in the middle of the night. Well, at least you could sulk freely, allow the tears to escape without worrying about what a blubbering mess you must look like. A part of you was thankful, this was...kind of nice? There was nobody hovering around you. No visors following your every move in pity or concern, waiting to catch you when you break. You did pass one or two guards patrolling the halls, but you avoided them as best you could, hoping to avoid being questioned.

You finally take a moment to sit, hiding yourself beside some phony shrub in the corner. You’ve wandered to the dining hall. You look around, hoping to distract yourself with the silent chatter of the five or so warriors lounging around, probably on break from late night duties. Your eyes finally resting on a group of three of your vods sitting around, talking. They’re from the new tribe, well, most recently new.

You don’t know any of them particularly well, least of all the heavy infantry warrier whose figure commands your attention. He spends most of his time with the higher ups or teaching the foundlings, and you fall somewhere there in the middle. But he’s broad and robust and by maker if he doesn't captivate your attention.

You listen to the quiet echoes bouncing around the spacious dining hall. There’s hardly anybody here, it must be so early. You groan, to you it just feels unbearably late.

You don’t know how long you sit here, hidden behind the leaves of the plant, hazy eyes focused on the blue warrior. You just sit, staring, he’s...peaceful to observe. His arms are crossed over his chest, leaned back comfortably against his chair.  He huffs at something one of his brothers says, you can barely hear it, but you see the shake of his shoulders before he adjusts his posture and a small smile pulls at your own lips for some reason.

You shake your head. Is this wrong? You think, averting your eyes away from Paz’s form. You feel guilty for some reason, you mind reminding you of Collin. The guilt impacts you painfully for a moment, adding to the feelings of loss and exhaustion before you shake the thoughts away.

No. You think, eyes squeezing shut at the new wave of emotion hurting your already distraught mind. I’m just people watching. Not admiring. This is allowed. This actually feels...kind of nice, it’s allowed.

You permit your gaze to return to Paz and his friends, watching them nod at another couple of Mandos who pass by.

There was something so...comforting about Paz. You don't even know how you can think that? You don’t know him.

You watch his attention shift to his boots which are sprawled out in front of him, heels resting on the hard floor. He kicks his feet out a little bit, watching them wiggle from their movements. His action again tugging the teeniest of smiles to your lips.

You feel a small and brief glimmer of warmth in your chest, though quickly replaced by a pain that pinches from your gut to the back of your throat. Tears gloss over your vision before you’re able to fight them away with slow, deep breaths. It feels as though your body is chastising you for daring to feel a degree of happiness so suddenly.

No. You cower away from the invisible being hurting you, eyes squinting shut again.

You yearn for the slight relief and warmth to return. You need it. It just...feels so damn hard to breathe like this.

The anxiety, the fear, the distress. It just won’t leave you alone.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until you’re already out in the open. You’d abruptly stood from your hiding spot and started walking toward the source of relief, before nearly choking on air realizing what you were doing.

Holy shit, you gasp, It’s too late to stop walking. You’re already out in the open, and you’ve made it well into their field of vision. If you stop, they’ll notice you.

Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff.

The anxiety is burning in your chest again. Your steps falter before you stop, you’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore.

What you do know is that now you’ve caught the attention of the Mando sitting next to Paz, whose visor now watches your frozen form in the middle of the hall. Your heart beating loudly in your chest as you stand there motionless, eyes wide and breathing faltering at having been detected.

You must look absolutely deranged.

But of course, it had to get worse. Noticing the stillness of their friend, the other two shift their attention to see what’s silenced him.

Three visors. There are now three visors on you. Staring down your shaky, frozen form.

You can’t walk this off, you can’t play it cool. They’re already looking at you, you’ve stood still here now watching them for now who knows how long.

What do you do?

Kriff.

You recoil slightly, crossing your now shaking hands in front of you, hoping they wouldn’t notice your trembling palms.

What the hell is wrong with you? Relax. You’re a Mandalorian, just think.

What is the least horrible way out of this?

Carry it out. Whatever it was that you were doing, whatever mission your subconscious had led you on, just execute it.

You breathe in a shuddery breath, placing one foot out in their direction and hesitating before allowing the other to follow its movements.

Geez, walk much?

It’s so quiet in the empty hall, only 5 or 6 other Mandos out on the other end, so each tap of your feet is as audible as that of a bantha on crackling ice as you make your way to them.

“Okay, vod’ika?” One of them asks kindly. You recognize the maroon helmet from up close. Ramsey?

Ramsey, you think.

You nod slightly, suddenly remembering how out of it you must look. Eyes puffy and red, lips swollen, hair in disarray. You feel even more anxious to desert the mission than before, resigning to just get it over with and face the object of your desire.

“Paz,” you say, internally groaning at how pathetic and fatigued your voice sounds. “May I please speak with you for a moment?”

Kriff, what’s the plan now, di’kut?

The question directed at him takes him aback, but his posture instantly straightens. “Of course,” He says, rising from his seat.

You blink back a little as he stands to his full height. Have you ever been this close to him? Surely not, you would remember the feeling of being towered over like this. Paz hesitates, waiting for your instruction. Osik, were you just brazenly sizing him up right there? Great, and now he must think you’re intimidated by him.

Abort, abort, abort.

He tilts his helmet at you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You move for him to follow, which he does. You try to move as far away from the others as possible without being terribly obvious in hopes that they won’t overhear your conversation.

“Is.. everything alright?” He asks once you’ve guided him a safe distance away.

“Yes.” You say instantly, eyes locked on your hands. “I-I mean, n-no.”

This is weird.

What have you done?

You force your gaze up to meet his, noticing his visor tilt in concern. He no doubt already knows what’s troubling you. Everybody in the covert knows about your father’s passing, there was a ceremony for kriffs sake. Paz was probably there.  

Your lip trembles suddenly, embarrassed, and instantly you’re cursing yourself for having put yourself through this. With everything in you, you squeeze your eyes shut and look down, the only way you know you’ll be able to ward off the tears, though you know your conduct is a dead giveaway as to what you’re trying to do.

He says your name, and there it is again, relief. Fleeting and short-lived, but making that one small breath easier to inhale than the rest.

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper in frustration. Opening your eyes to see his feet having moved closer to you than they were before.

Always concerned with the wellbeing of his tribe. You remember. That’s what this big brute is known for anyway, right? You can trust him.

“No,” He says, his tone soft spoken, a sharp contrast to his intimidating form. “Take your time.”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head at the floor before forcing your eyes up once again.

Always maintain eye contact. It’s a show of respect. And you always show your superiors that you respect them. Your dad's words remind you to keep your head level to Paz’s. Or...at least as level as it can be to Paz’s.

The reminder that you are indeed speaking to an alor’ad stirs up new nerves in your belly, you were falling apart in front of a captain. Worse, a Vizsla, Mandalorian royalty.

“Um,” you eventually sputter out, collecting your thoughts. “Well I...I kind of have a weird request.” Your murmur.

Are you going to faint? It feels like you’re going to faint.

“Okay,” He nods to indicate you have his full attention, “What is it?”

“Um,” Your voice wavers, suddenly feeling very shaky and lightheaded again, and incredibly annoyed that you didn’t just opt to put on your helmet for the sake of hiding your face. Only...it makes it really hard to breathe when you already feel like you can’t get enough air. And pulling it off every five minutes to clean your face of newly gathered tears was difficult.

He says your name again, this time slowly raising a hand to your shoulder. You exhale in relief when you’re met by his touch. “Hey,” He says, “It’s okay, what do you need?”

You take another calming breath, soothed by the weight of his hand that hasn’t left your shoulder. “Well first, are-are you busy today?”

What a stupid question, you think. He ranks high up in the chain of command, of course he’s busy. Not to mention, it’s probably, what, 5 a.m. right now? And he’s sitting in the dining hall. He certainly didn’t wake up this early because he didn’t have something to do.

“Not at all.” He assures with a shake of his helmet.

Sure.

You dismiss the obvious lie, staring his blue visor straight on. You can see your pathetic, teary-eyed reflection staring back at you in the space where his eyes would be.

He wants you to tell him what’s wrong, you remind yourself, just do it.

Using what remaining courage you have, you open your mouth to speak. “I...I know you don’t know me that well. I don’t really...know you either. I-I don't even know why I’m here asking you this right now. But, um,  my-” you choke on your words, confidence diminishing “-my dad is dead, and I’m hurting and afraid and feeling completely unlike myself. I don’t know when the last time I slept was or if I’ve eaten anything in the last couple of days. I just know that-that something really awful has happened to me and I know y-you and I we-we’re practically strangers but right now I just n-need someone and I r-really want that person to be you-”

You hadn’t even realized the flood of tears gushing down your cheeks or the defeated sobs suddenly shaking your body until you were pulled into a pair of arms, his arms.

Strong, protective, shielding arms.

You hear the gentle sounds of Paz shooshing you, his hand pressed to the back of your head and cradling you in a comforting manner.

“I’ve got you, cyar’ika.” He hums, voice light and sweet like honey.

You almost don't mind the heavy sobs racking your body for a moment.

Sweetheart. He called you sweetheart.

You feel his body stir above you, either looking around or else...motioning something to someone. “Hey,” He whispers, keeping your head tucked into his arm, “Come over here with me.”

He guides you away from the dining hall where no doubt, despite your best efforts, whoever was in there had both seen and heard you throw your fit. At the very least catching your sobs at the end.

Ushering you around the corner to an empty hallway, he helps you down on a bench, sitting next to you. Your sobs slowly subsiding to small sniffles under the gloved hand moving soothing circles up and down your back.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, allowing you time to gather yourself. Once the wobbliness in your breathing evens out to a calmer, drawn out, pace, he asks again, “What can I do, vod’ika? I’ll help you, just tell me what you need?”

You nod your head, electing not to rub the abused skin around your eyes that was being continuously irritated by tears. “Could you maybe, stay with me today?” You ask timidly.

“Yes,” He responds instantly, “Yes, of course. Wh-what would you like to do? How can we...divert your attention?” He attempts to sidetrack the word distract, acknowledging that his word choice probably doesn’t make much a difference. “Is there anything on your agenda today?”

“N-no.” You sniff. “All my responsibilities this week were redistributed to other people. I have nothing to do.”

He hums, considering your words.

“But um,” you offer, “I suppose it would be good to take a shower.” You chuckle lifelessly, tugging at the unwashed ends of your hair.

You see his form tense beside you, and your eyes widen in horror in realising your error.

“O-oh maker, no. I was kidding, cause I’m a mess and all that’s - kriff - that’s not at all what I was insinuating-” You panic, fumbling for words.

He chuckles lowly beside you, raising a hand up to ease your stammering, “No, it’s okay. I understand. Allow me to...escort you then?”

“To the-” You swallow, cheeks no doubt pinkened by the encounter, “You really don’t have to I wasn’t seri-”

“Self-care is important.” He says, rising to his feet. “It’s the start of a new day, and it’s early enough that you’ll likely have the entire washroom to yourself. C’mon,” He extends an arm out to you. You contemplate taking it for a moment, briefly, again, considering Collin.

Who isn’t here.

“Really?” You ask, stunned both by his willingness to wait outside the washroom while you shower and his consideration of your privacy.

He lifts his elbow again in response. You rise from your seated position, hand hesitantly grabbing a hold of his arm as he lowers it back towards his side, making the gesture less obvious to prying eyes.

You hold onto the crease of his elbow, your other hand mindlessly joining your other so that you practically hang onto him. He tugs you forward, and you begin walking at a comfortable pace.

“Thank you,” You say, sounding stunned again. “I...I can’t imagine that when you woke up this morning you thought you’d be babysitting a stranger.” You mumble, embarrassed.

He huffs, “You are not a stranger,” then he says your name, again. Honey, pure honey.

“You are a member of my tribe,” He continues, “Even though we do not know each other well, I still care about you.”

You blink back your surprise at his words. This man truly is honorable. Caring and considerate and selfless. A big brute with an even bigger heart. You can’t stop yourself from looking up at him, nearly gaping at his words. “You care about me?” You ask.

He hums, looking at your wide eyes staring up at him. 

“You don’t even know me.” You mutter as he looks away. You can’t possibly care about someone who you don’t know. 

“I’m observant.”

You hesitate, feeling another foreign feeling flutter in your belly. 

“Observant?” You challenge.

His visor looks back down at you, your puffy eyes swimming with curiosity. You want him to prove it. 

He takes a tentative breath, hoping you’ll allude his suspiciously observant behaviors of you with the fact that he was trained to be hyper aware of his surroundings. He speaks slowly, “Your favorite food is vegetable pie, probably because it’s a main course, but also sweet. You like to busy yourself with your hands, often tinkering with whatever small, broken objects you manage to find around the covert. Every morning, you head to the training room early to run your own drills and stretch before everyone else arrives. You have a boyfriend, Collin I believe, who you like to align your chores with so you can do them together, except for cleaning the kitchens, which you always try to switch off with somebody else.”

Your eyes stare unblinkingly at his profile. “How-how do you know that?”

“Because kitchen duty is always crossed out under your name on the chores chart, and a different chore is always handwritten underneath.” He says, unable to contain an amused laugh. He opts to only remark on the last of his observations.

You slow to a stop, feeling suddenly incredibly ashamed. “Wow,” You say in admiration. “I-”

You can’t think of anything to say in response, you don’t know anything about him. And here he was telling you that not only does he care for you simply as a member of his tribe, but he actually knows things about you.

You’re overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, “Paz- I’m...I’m ashamed to say that I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”

He barks out a laugh, surprising you. “Are you concerned with what my favorite color is, cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” You answer, perhaps a silly amount of gravity. “Upon hearing all the things you know about me that most others don't, I mean I’m...I’m touched Paz.”

His tilts his head, visor lingering on your face a moment, and you’re sure that while it was a somewhat silly conversation, he can see the annoying little pools of water that gathered in your eyes again.

He’s silent for a moment. “My favorite color is brown,” He says.

“Brown.” You reflect.

He nods, “It’s warm, soothing.”

“Okay,” You say, hand reaching for his elbow again. “Brown. I’ll remember that.” You squeeze his sleeve in promise.

“I’m sure you will,” He smiles. Or at least you think he does. It sure sounds like he does.

You continue walking on in silence, only passing one other vod in the spacious hall. You’re fairly certain that the Mando approaching does a double take as he sees you clinging to the heavy infantry warrior, but Paz just gives him a nod as you pass in silence. It’s still terribly early. Or late, to you at least. For it to be early you would have had to have slept in the first place.

Your pace is slow, and you wonder if Paz notices the utter exhaustion plaguing your body.

Oh. He must, you think upon catching a reflection of yourself.

Kriff, you look about as good as you feel.

He stops outside your room so you could run in and bag some clothes, before you venture down to the washrooms. You walk comfortably in silence, despite having enjoyed some distracting conversation with him, it feels like the most you’ve spoken all week, and it was tiring, though not unpleasant.

“Could I, ask you something?” He hesitates, clearing his throat. Noting that you keep your eyes glued to the space in front of your feet. “Where is your...uh, Collin?”

He should be doing this. Paz reflects. Taking care of you.

You raise your eyebrows at the floor. “Sleeping I’m sure.”

“Well yes,” He says, “But why hasn’t he been, you know...around?”

His brows furrow at his own words. Well done Paz, you di’kut. First the poor girl’s dad dies, then you offend her by asking why her boyfriend hasn’t been taking care of her. Let alone the fact that you just made it known you’ve noticed his absence. That did not come out at all how he wanted it to.

He’s surprised by a little laugh emitting from your lips. Small and half-hearted and barely audible, but by maker if even then it isn’t one of the prettiest sounds he ever heard.

“Cause..” you sigh, searching for the answer. “-cause he’s an asshole.” You mutter, blunt as the truth leaves your lips.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have overstepped-”

“It’s okay,” you mumble, “what’s one more thing in my life..”

Paz is silent for a moment. You’re surprised your eyes haven't welled with tears again. Lately it seems like they prefer looking through a blurry lens rather than a clear one. But maybe a part of you expected this with Collin. Your relationship isn’t what it used to be. For the last six months it seems as though his interest in you has slowly diminished. It takes having something fun and interesting for him to seem excited about spending time with you. Cause maker forbid anytime you try to just sit and hang out with him you enjoy yourselves, he’s always got some excuse on hand to get him out of it.

“No,” Paz insists, interrupting your ruminations. “I’m sorry. Perhaps he thought space is what you wanted?”

I think space is what he wanted.

You don’t answer, arriving to the washrooms. Being the only two people in at this hour, the echo of his heavy armor clinks around the wide space. You pass door after door of the enormous shower rooms. Kriff, this is weird. Why was the first thing you thought of when he asked you what you would normally do to shower? I mean sure that was true, but certainly you could have forgone this item on your agenda for the sake of being...proper?

You glance at your passing figure in a mirror and flinch.

Although.

Maybe you...need a shower.

You must have showered within the last few days, right?

“Okay,” Paz says, breaking the silence. “I’ll wait out here.” He says, standing in the communal space with sinks and benches. “You just, take your time vod’ika. Let the water...freshen you up or, soothe you or..some shit.”

Your frown abruptly turns into a wide smile as you giggle.

Victory. He thinks.

His breath hitches behind his own helmet. Kriff, you have a lovely smile. How had he never noticed your smile before?

“Thank you, Paz.” You say, retreating to a random facility and briskly closing the door.

You lean against the door once it’s shut, the ghost of a smile still on your cheeks.

He’s really just going to stand out there. Just so that you know he’s there, that you’re not alone.

“Wow.” You whisper, soaking in the warm feeling in your stomach. It feels like forever since you’ve felt that, giddiness.

You move to turn on the water, slowly stripping yourself of your clothes. You were still wearing your nightshirt from your fruitless sleep endeavors. It was nothing indecent, just a plain, black, elbow-length shirt. Luckily, you had had enough sense in you to pull on a sports bra before you abandoned any notions of sleep, lazily just slipping on some green cargo pants over your leggings before wandering aimlessly through the covert.

You look comfortable but...certainly not like a fierce Mandalorian.

You try your hardest to wash the gloom off your face, focusing your attention on the mission at hand in hopes of keeping distracted. Now you remember why you’d been putting off showering. For some reason, whenever you’re buried under the protective warmth of the loud, secluded shower, at least since it happened, you started to-

The first sniffle comes before you sense its approach, and within seconds your body is shaking in silent sobs.

“Shit.” You whisper.

Pull it together, it’s okay, just breathe. Paz is out there, you don’t want him to hear you.

Your tears blend together with the water running down your body from the shower, making it impossible to discern what is the result of your own pain and what procured it.

You let out a silent whimper, quiet enough that thankfully, you’re sure Paz couldn’t have heard.

Breathe. It’s okay, you’re okay.

No. I’m not okay.

I’m all alone.

“Stop it.” You scold yourself harshly, your soft breath echoing only in your ears.

You are not alone.

Someone is here for you.

Paz. Paz dropped everything to take care of you.

He’s right outside that door, waiting for you.

You take another moment to compose yourself, allowing the last few suds to wash down your form before turning the water off. You quickly dry yourself off and pull on your change of clothes, now wearing a blue sweater and leggings. You didn’t even bother bringing a flight suit. What’s one more day of not suiting up. But at least you’ve still got your boots.

You walk to the mirror, sighing once you get a good look at yourself.

Great.

Swollen, red, angry eyes stare back at you with a red nose to match.

Fuck. You shove all your things back into the sack, giving your hair a final few shakes with the towel before moving towards the door.

It swings open, and you’re met with the sight of Paz leaning against the opposite wall. Arms crossed, one foot propped up against the wall. His visor turns in your direction as you emerge from the chambers. He hmphs, observing your appearance.

“What?” You ask, hesitating to step closer.

“I like the color.”

You look down at your sweater, unknowingly having sported a blue in the exact same shade as his armor. You hide your gaze in your chest, mumbling a half-amused, “Oh.”

“It signifies reliability, did you know that?” He asks.

You still don’t meet his gaze, but smile. Makes sense.

“It is very fitting for you.” He finishes.

You finally look up at him. For you? He believes you to be reliable? “Oh, th-thank you.” You stutter, feeling truly flattered by his compliment.

His visor tilts silently back and forth on your features as you step up at him. He notices your freshly irritated eyes.

“Are you-”

“-it’s nothing.” You interrupt, shaking your head.

“I um,” You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to lighten the mood with an obviously forced smile. “I tend to emerge from showers with angry eyes, at least, as of late.”

Paz’s hand surprises you as it reaches up, gently cupping your elbow, so swiftly you’re not even sure he meant to do it.

“Not angry, mesh’la,” He mutters, “sad.”

Your mouth gapes open slightly, not having expected such a remark from him. He seems slightly distressed by his own slip of the tongue as well, immediately tensing.

His mind is reeling, guilt flooding over him like a tidal wave in a storm. He feels as though he crossed a line. He’s supposed to be caring for you, distracting you, not calling you beautiful when you already belong to someone else.

“I’m-”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Both your gazes snap up in the direction of the source.

Standing under an archway, halfway between the entrance of the washrooms and you, is Collin.

Your breath hitches, “Collin.” You breathe out.

Paz’s hand jerks instantly from your elbow, hanging tensely by his side.

Collin says your name questioningly, taking another step towards you. He’s wearing his armor, but his helmet hangs down by his side. Blonde eyebrows furrowed suspiciously at the two of you.

“I said,” he repeats, “what is going on in here?”

“Nothing.” You say instantly, taking a step away from Paz.

Well that was a suspiciously guilty maneuver.

Collin eyes Paz for a moment, whose form hasn’t moved even an inch since Collin interrupted you both. He closes the distance between the two of you, but still stays a generous space away.

“What are you doing down here at this hour?” He questions, eyebrows furrowed tightly together.

“I..I couldn’t sleep.” You say.

“Again?”

Again? Your father died not one week ago, does he really expect you to be sleeping soundly?

“Yes it’s- been difficult to find the right headspace for rest.” You answer. “I thought perhaps a warm shower would help alleviate the uneasiness.”

His eyes flick to Paz before quickly landing back on your own, suddenly morphing his face into one of concern. His posture loosens slightly and he reaches towards you, showing you more affection than he has in months. “Well, are you okay? You don’t look very good.” Collin says.

Your frown deepens, suddenly you feel very offended. 

“Yeah? Well I look the way I feel, wise guy.” You snap, startling both of you by your outburst. His hand retreats from your space, moving to clench and unclench by his side.

“I’m sorry,” He scoffs after taking a tense breath, “Have I done something wrong?”

“Collin-” Paz’s voice breaks his role as an audience member to your discussion, polite but still warning in his tone.

“-No, I am not speaking to you.” Collin spits out, “I’m speaking to my girlfriend. My girlfriend who you were getting awfully close to in the privacy of this empty washroom.”

Your heart is thumping in your chest. He’s right, this certainly was not a good look. It was highly irregular for you to be up so early. And here you were alone at an ungodly hour with a man who wasn’t your partner. Kriff, how could you be so stupid? You should have known that Collin would stumble in here at this time, he does early morning flight training every week, today must be his lesson. It must have slipped your mind, or maybe you’d forgotten his schedule. Had he even shown you his schedule?

No. No, he hadn’t. When was the last time you even saw him? Surely a few times a day but had you even shared a moment of substance together since the funeral? You’ve gone to him for comfort yet you can’t remember how any of those interactions went. He dismissed you, or offered you a peck on the forehead before changing the subject.

Come to think of it, how dare he come in here angry with you for anything. If anything, you should be the one who’s angry. Paz was right, where has he been?

“You’re right.” Paz says, shocking you and Collin both, your gaze quickly snapping in his direction. “I shouldn't have reached for her. But I was only trying to comfort her, I swear to you that is all. Regardless, you need to relax.” He speaks calmly, the warning back in his tone.  

Collin huffs, taking a menacing step in Paz’s direction. He always was arrogant. 

Your eyes widen, “Collin-”

He rasps out his next words in with a snarl, cutting off your attempt to de-escalate the situation. “Listen here, vod-” He spits, but not before being cut off by a startling quick grab to the front of his chest plate, yanking him forward.

Collin’s heels barely graze the floor as he looks directly up at Paz’s visor, who seems to have grown another six inches, the two quite literally helm to helm.

“You do not address me as your vod in such a manner of disrespect.” Paz growls, his voice sending a harsh shiver down your spine, slightly in alarm, slightly in...something else.

Your breath hitches, frozen as you watch the scene unfold. If you’re too frightened to move, you can’t imagine how Collin feels. Although...maybe a small part of you wishes you did.

“Jare’la,” Paz scoffs, shaking his head. “I am your alor’ad. And I do not tolerate a lack of respect. If you are confused about your place, then I will gladly show you where it is. Tayli’bac, vod?” He spits the words out menacingly, challenging Collin to oppose his authority.

“Elek! Elek, alor’ad!” Collin stammers, “N’eparavu takisit!”

Paz huffs, visor staring Collin down a moment longer before releasing him, shoving him back in the process.

He stumbles to catch himself, grabbing onto the side of the sink for leverage. You’ve never seen him look so...cowardly.

He looks to you, taking a moment to gather himself. Your eyes are still wide, mouth agape as you just stare at him in disbelief. He wets his lips with his tongue, seeming to swallow down another remark, eyes darting to Paz before returning to you. “So, that’s the way it is, huh?”

You’re speechless, “I- I don’t..”

You contemplate the severity of the moment, what’s at stake. Your silence is answer enough, you decide, before opting to look down, relinquishing your chance to speak. With it goes your willingness to explain, to try and salvage whatever pathetic excuse of a relationship you thought you had had with him. “I’m sorry, Collin.” You say, unsure of the words as they leave your mouth.

You hear only the sound of heavy breathing. Two sources of heavy breathing, and neither of them are coming from you. Then, a sound akin to that of a growl. You look up to face him again, only to see his focus on the man beside you. Paz looks back at him, unmoving, domineering, daring him to overstep.

Was Collin challenging you, or Paz?

Was Paz simply defending you or...challenging Collin? And for what?

You feel another spike in anxiety, suddenly feeling as though you were observing a mating duel, a challenge over possession of a lioness, a female...not...terribly uncommon in Mandalorian culture, though nonetheless offensive.

“That’s enough.” You whisper, though with enough exertion to be heard by both males.

You see Paz’s visor turn to face you out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t move, keeping your gaze averted to Collin.

He stares Paz down for another moment before meeting your eyes, saying your name with a stiff nod, and uttering a “Goodbye,” before briskly leaving the room.

You let out an exhale once he’s rounded the corner, catching your breath. That was it.

You’ve lost him.

You stare at the empty door, at the ghost of the shadow where he once stood, waiting for the tears to fall. You feel heavy, you feel distressed, but perhaps not anymore than you already had. There’s not a swirl of emotion in your gut nor rising in your throat that compels tears to swim in your eyes again.

You hear your name being called once, twice. The third time, you look up, much higher up than you’d expected to, at the imposing figure now standing directly above you.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly.

You hold his gaze, watching your reflection blinking up at him. He doesn’t move, waiting for your response to his question. Your gaze drifts down slightly and to the side, staring at the plain wall behind him, before reconcentrating your focus.

“What um,” Your voice comes out somewhat both hoarse and mellow, quiet as you continue, “What should we do next?”

------------------------

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Paz was guilt ridden. Surely he could have let the little brat mouth off to him one time to spare you from getting hurt. But no, he just had to go and threaten the kid right in front of you. It was just instinctual. He would have done it without restraint any other time to any other member stepping out of line, but upon reflection, maybe the whole thing was his fault. Collin had walked in on you two nearly close enough to embrace. Of course he was pissed. And then, he degraded him, ordering him into submission right in front of your eyes.  

You didn’t blame him. Not in the slightest. I mean, what did Collin expect? He straight up challenged the alor’ad. It was foolish and insulting, and quite honestly Paz wouldn’t have been out of line to clock him then and there. But you suppose he was holding himself back for the sake of your wellbeing, not wanting you to watch your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - get pounded on while you were already in such a state.

“Yes.” You say, emitting a heavy exhale. You really were.  

The halls have started filling with armored warriors, the covert finally beginning to come to life with a sunrise shining through the trees and early risers popping up.

“Vizsla!” Someone shouts, the two of you turn to see Stephan jogging towards you.

“Hey,” He says, walking once he reached a comfortable earshot, “We missed you on that perimeter run. Was surprised you didn’t show up, is everything-?”

His voice trails off, visor finally ticking in your direction. He seems a little taken aback by your presence, or rather that you were within Paz’s company.

“Vod’ika,” He finally says. “What are you doing with- uh, I mean, how are you?”

“What am I doing with Paz?” You smile, “You don’t think I could handle a perimeter run, Steph?”

His helmet ticks back in surprise at your banter, “N-no, vod’ika.” He says, looking at Paz and huffing in amusement. “We’ll gladly have you join us on the next one.”

“Sure.” Paz nods.

“So…” Stephan continues with uncertainty, “How-how are you?”

Couldn’t make it thirty seconds in without having that question thrown out at you.

You hesitate, the frown slowly returning to your face. Should you answer truthfully? Lie? How are you? 

“I’m…”

You seem stuck on the word. Did you choose a word? What word are you even looking for?

You’re still talking. You remind yourself.

Shit, now you look like you’ve shut down.

You feel a hand rest on your back, blinking forward from your gaze that had somehow been drawn down towards Stephans boots.

“We were just heading to the kitchens.” Paz responds, you tilt your face in his direction without raising your eyes, keeping them glued to the space in front of you, ashamed.

“Okay, yeah.” Stephen says hastily, “Well, uh, Jay made some really good morning muffins, vod’ika, and they’re still warm I bet.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement, offering a pitiful smile, “I’m sure.”

Poor Stephan, it’s not his fault you were like this. He’s just checking in on you, and here you are making him feel bad for asking about your wellbeing. It’s just a question.

Kriff, why are you so weak?

You conceal yourself back in your thoughts, sure that you look absent with glazed over eyes. But you can't bring yourself to care. That’s the weird thing about feeling so desolate, you just don’t have the energy to hide it sometimes.

You hear the foggy exchange of words between the two warriors, simply choosing to retract yourself from the conversation and instead focus your attention on the gloved hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Stephan’s modulator rises to a more upbeat tone before stepping forward and offering Paz a light slap on the arm as he passes, evidently dismissing the two of you to carry on with your business.

Paz’s form shifts to watch Stephan leave before turning to you. “Okay?” He asks.

“Okay.” You nod.

He hums, sounding unconvinced as he lightly nudges you forward again, letting his hand drop from its place on your jumper.

No... come back.

You walk side by side in silence, trying to get him to walk a step ahead of you so you can follow. But anytime your step falters purposefully to give him the lead he slows his own, silently insisting you walk side by side. Instead, he steers your direction with fleeting contacts. A hand pulling your arm, his gloved fingers tapping your shoulder. You’re happy to let him guide you, appreciating the delicate touches in direction.

Feeling a sliver of life breathed into you at each one.

The touches stop far sooner than you need them to upon arrival to your destination. You notice you’re heading towards the mess hall again, feeling discomfort at the idea of seeing more of your vods, or worse, having a repeat of your public meltdown you’d had just a few short hours ago.

You’re more alert now, having picked up on the light buzzing from the dining hall. There’s probably quite a few people out there now. And you’re not sure you’re ready to face another wave of concerned and attentive brothers and sisters.

“Paz-” You say, ready to object, but not before you’re steered off to the side, scarcely missing exposure to the hall full of bustling Mandalorians.

Instead, Paz opens a door and gestures for you to walk through, which you do.

Oh. The kitchen.

You’ve been in here many times, but not often during the day. Jay keeps a tight lockdown on the kitchen, only allowing his apprentice to be in here during the working hours of the covert. He’s got a considerable number of Mandalorians to feed, yet he prefers to tackle the challenge alone. Usually kicking anyone out who pops in to help, scolding them for messing up his rhythm.

He has no problem allowing people to make their rounds of kitchen duty though, but that only consists of cleaning up the space once it’s shut down for the night. Mopping, washing, organizing...he tends to lock up all the good treats and hide away the key, making the task totally not worthwhile for you.

Of course, being the daughter of the unsanctioned Alor and all, you had special privileges. One of them being you could hang around the kitchen without Jay kicking you out every time. He still did, but he gave you more leeway than the others if you stayed out of his way and only snacked on the scraps he wasn’t saving.

The door swings shut behind you and you round the corner, the clink of your armored warrior just behind you.

Whoa, whoa. You stop yourself. Your?

You catch sight of a red Mandalorian viciously attending to something on the stove. “What are you two doing in here?” Jay shouts over his shoulder, turning back to his frying.

Paz looks around the empty kitchen, “I heard a rumor about morning muffins.” The deep rumble of his voice saying the words prompts a breathy giggle from your lips, catching his attention, before he continues to glance around for the treats.

Jay huffs, motioning with his wooden spoon to the corner, “Over there. Take one and get out.”

“Thanks,” Paz says, his hands lightly resting on your shoulders from behind and nudging you forward. “Nice attitude.” He mumbles for your ears, an amused smile still lingering on your lips.

“Nice signet.” Jay scoffs, evidently having heard, “Or lack thereof.”  

“Nice apron.”

“Okay- get out of my kitchen.” Jay says, looking up from his dicing.

You surprise yourself by letting out a lively laugh. Paz’s hands tighten over your shoulders at the sudden sound, feeling damn near enamored by Jay for having caused it.

He looks to Jay and gives him a grateful nod, who nods slightly in return, so as not to be caught by your gaze, before returning to his work.

You make your way to the tray of muffins in the corner, boldly sitting down on the couch in front of the fire. Exactly where you and your dad would sit and enjoy the freshly baked cookies or cake made by Jay that morning, the small area being off limits to everyone else in the covert.

Paz is certain Jay would have snapped at them to get away from his personal space if it weren’t for you. You’re sat next to him, gazing at the fire that Jay lights every morning to warm the frigid kitchen.

“For you.” Paz says, handing you a small muffin with a napkin wrapped protectively around it.

You smile at him, accepting the gesture, just allowing it to slowly warm up your fingers in your lap. The movements of the fire captivating your attention as the flames dance in the soft lighting.

“Cyar'ika.” He says softly, the word sending a shiver down your spine. “You really ought to eat something.”

You look to your side again, taking in Paz’s appearance on the tiny couch. Its small size having forced you to sit right up against each other. The leg closest to you is propped up and over the other comfortably, his knee resting elevated slightly above your own.

You wonder if you clink your knee against his own if his hand will slip off it and land on yours.

A silly thought, you think, amusing yourself.

His tilting visor alerts you that you’ve been shamelessly gawking at him. Twice in one day.

“I- um,” You stutter, averting your gaze. “I’m not terribly hungry, Paz.”

He hums, “Well it’s a good thing you’re not terribly hungry because all you’ve got there is a teeny muffin.”

“Yes, it would appear so.” You smile, still making no movement to eat it.

Paz breathes in a slow, contemplative sigh. Guilt starts to flood your senses again, he’s done so much for you today, why can’t you just do this one thing for him?

“Tell you what,” he offers, your eyes rising to meet his visor, “You eat that muffin, maybe have a little bit of tea, and I’ll tell you about the time your vod and I went to Jabba’s Palace.”

Your eyes widen, and you boldly swing your hand down to grasp his arm as you straighten. “The Hutt story?” You choke. “You’ll tell me the Hutt story?”

Paz’s modulator rumbles as he chuckles, knowing he’s got you entrapped by a golden exchange.

He nods, “I’ll tell you the untold and widely sought-after story about the time Devin and I went to visit the Hutts-”

“-Deal!” You squeeze his arm, still gripping tightly from earlier.

“Yeah,” Jay utters, his looming figure now standing directly behind you both, “Kriffing deal.”  

“Get out of here.” Paz huffs, shoving Jay back over the arm of the couch. He doesn’t argue, but you see his retreating form adjust the volume settings on his vambrace.

Paz shifts back cheekily with his arms spread around the couch. He gestures to the uneaten muffin on your lap, waiting for you to uphold your end of the deal.

You sigh, unwrapping the baked good. But the thrill of getting to know the story that caused such an uproar in the covert shoo’s away the discomfort, replacing it with a slightly giddy feeling.

You take a bite, looking at him expectantly. He just scoffs, gesturing again to the tiny muffin in your hand. “C’mon, that thing is like the size of a whistle bird, you finish that before you get the story,” He says, with much emphasis on the “before.”

Fair.

You down the muffin faster than you thought you could, much too excited to finally hear the secret tale. You were going to have bragging rights around this place forever. Paz shakes his head at you, lightly laughing, “So that’s all it takes, huh?” He nods to the empty napkin in your hand.

You ignore him, knowing he knows full well the value of this information. Whatever it was that happened when those two visited Jabba’s Palace, Devin had come back damn near afraid of his own shadow. It took months for him to pull himself together. Your vod would literally jump at the sound of an egg cracking open, reaching for his blaster and slipping up on his grasp. It was kriffing hysterical to you and everyone else in the tribe. And you assumed you weren’t really being malicious. Paz had been there too and returned unscathed, and laughed all the same. And even though he teased Devin to no end about it, he swore he’d never tell a soul what happened, so up until this point, nobody knew what it was. But here you were.

Paz turns over his shoulder, “Hey Jay,” He says politely. “How about a cup of tea for your vod’ika?”

“What am I your maid?” Jay retorts.

“You are the cook.”

Jay mutters something under his breath, but you don’t pay him any mind, having heard him fill up a pot of water immediately upon Paz’s request.

You avert your gaze from Paz’s helmet as soon as he turns to face you again. You look to the fire, biting your lip as a smile slowly grows on your face. It crosses your mind that you feel not only okay in this very moment but actually...happy. The fleeting moments of relief you’ve been feeling all morning, small moments of peace jumbled in with all the sadness and the anxiety, were all because of him. This man who you did not even know three hours ago. Who let you cry in his arms, who stood guard outside the washroom while you showered, who defended you, called you sweetheart, made sure you knew he was always there with you. The same man who now sat next to you on the couch you weren’t allowed to sit on in a kitchen you weren’t allowed to be in. Your smile grows wider, and in your peripheral you’re very aware of his visor still staring at you.

“What?” Paz chuckles.

“Nothing.” You giggle, tears gathering in your eyes. But for the first time today, first time all week, forming not in pain but in relief.

“What is it?” He insists, still playful in his tone. His knee nudges you as if to prompt a response.

A tear slips down your cheek and he leans forward instinctively, his hand finding yours in your lap without hesitation. “Mesh’la, what is it?” He asks again, this time void of all silliness, concerned.

You shake your head, your small smile still present, but certainly reflecting more of the emotion you were feeling.

You place your other hand on top of his own that covers yours, trapping his gloved fingers in your two hands, before looking up at him.

“Just, thank you Paz.” You say, admiration and gratitude dripping from your voice.

------------------------

He likes your voice, he decides, it sounds so sweet, like pure honey.

His eyes are lost in yours behind the visor, watching another tear slip down your delicate cheek. He can hear the relief in your voice. The pure relief and admiration. Admiration? Do you feel admiration for him? He sure hopes you do, otherwise you might find it weird that he’s staring at you for so long. Kriff, he should stop staring at you. But look at those eyes. Those wonderfully expressive eyes that aren’t looking angry or sad or pained, but warm. He feels ensnared by your gaze, a light smile trailing your features, a sprinkle of tears sliding down your cheeks. He watches one slip down the shape of your cheek, rounding your nose and lips before forming a teardrop on your chin. He watches it glisten, unable to bear letting it fall. Mindlessly, he raises a gloved finger to catch it.

Your breath hitches at the contact, and his finger hovers under your jaw before sliding up to catch another.  

Your eyes flit back and forth along the dark shade of his visor, searching, wondering what his eyes look like, head tilting unconsciously into his glove.

He takes the gesture as permission, slowly lifting his thumb, his palm, his whole hand up against your cheek.

You both feel suspended, his hand frozen caressing your cheek. Your eyes have dried up now, carrying a glow of wonder in them. His head tilts slowly and unknowingly to the side, almost like he can’t hold up the weight of his helmet a second longer.

The sound of approaching footfalls brings you back to reality, Paz’s hand drops from your cheek and your faces turning towards the source that dared to interrupt your moment.

“Geez, no need to cry about it, I’ve got your tea.” Jay quips, perfectly deescalating the tension of the moment. Making it a point to show you he was minding his own business.

“Um, thank you.” You mutter, still coming back to the present.

“It’s sleepytime tea.” Jay says, “Ground with dandisonyl.”

“Dandisonyl?” You ask, more alert, “That stuff is rare and expensive.”

“And strong.” Paz huffs.

“And expensive.” You insist again, looking down at your tea. “Jay, why would you waste this on me?”

He leans down against his forearms, now looming over your shoulders. His smug nature radiating off his posture alone, “Now, and this is just an observation, but you look kriffing tired. And that there,” He gestures to the cup of earthy smelling tea you’ve placed on the table in front of you, “That’s sleepytime tea. And you, vod’ika, of all people, look like you need some serious, quality, sleepytime.”

His statement ends with a pinch to your cheeks, and it’s your turn to aggressively shove him backward, causing Paz to let out a sweet laugh.

“Paz,” You say, looking to the only superior present, “He wasted good, expensive herbs on me. That stuff can be used medicinally.” You say with reprimand in your voice.

Paz surprises you by shrugging, “He kind of did use it medicinally.”

“Oh, alor’ad.” You chastise, using his official title to remind him of his role here.

He shrugs, using his whole body for the movement, before picking up your cup and placing it back in your hands. “I suppose you’re right, alor’ika.” He teases, “So you’d better drink it all so as not to let it go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of the tea. With your nose nestled into the cup you miss the silent exchange of approval Paz gives Jay.

Readjusting your position so that you’re facing the fire again, you turn your head towards Paz, taking another sip of your tea, it is surprisingly good. “Get on with the story then.” You command, grinning at your victory.

“Okay.” Paz says, grunting as he adjusts himself to sit comfortably once again on the small couch, opting this time to keep one arm swung over behind your head. You smile in content, looking down sheepishly at your tea and having a bit more.

“Well, it all started on the ship. I mean before we even got to Tatooine. Devin, being the utreekov that he is, forgot to bring the kriffing-...”

You listen intently to his story. He’s using his hands as he talks, passionate and perhaps a little dramatic. He’s taking extra care to include all the details, probably indulging in the fact that you and, undoubtedly, Jay, are paying him your absolute, undivided attention. You sip at your tea, the taste warm and comforting alongside Paz’s sweet voice. Your eyes are getting heavier, and you blink at the burning feeling stinging your eyes from the light of the fire, deciding that you’ll be able to listen better with your eyes closed, and gently placing the empty mug on the table.

“So, finally we get to Jabba’s palace. And Devin’s already a nervous wreck after that encounter with the Trandoshans, and-”

His voice carries a hint of thrill in it. You wonder if he feels exhilarated in finally getting to tell this story. Your lips twitch slightly, content that he’s trusting you with it. 

Feeling heavier on one side, you allow your head to swing slightly in his direction, snuggling more into the embrace of the couch.

You notice his words trailing off, realizing you weren't paying much attention. Hearing only the sounds of the crackling fire in front of you, you slowly force your eyes open.

Paz’s head is turned down as much as it can in his position. And though you can’t see his visor, you’re certain he’s staring at you.

“Keep talking.” You mutter, resting your head back again.

You hear the sweetest breath of a chuckle sound from beneath his helmet, which you suddenly realise you're very near to. “Close your eyes again.”

“No, I wanna listen to the story.” You mumble, your low energy blending the words together.

“You can only evade sleep for so long sweetheart.”

“We’ll see.” You challenge, eyes fluttering closed against your will.

“Yes, we will.” He whispers. He’s silent another moment, admiring you and your peaceful expression with a smile on his face before carrying on with the story, speaking much more softly than before. The light humming of his voice is soothing, and you notice it growing quieter and quieter, yet the feelings of security and warmth and relief all stay with you.

Paz looks towards the fire as he speaks, trying to draw out the story as long as he can. He feels the light weight of your head resting against his shoulder, not daring to move a muscle and disturb your peaceful slumber.

It’s still early in the morning. Behind the fireplace and through the density of the thick wall, Paz can hear the covert coming to life. And while their days are just starting, yours has finally come to a peaceful end. He listens to your serene breathing through the long pauses he takes in his story, knowing that really, he’s only telling it to Jay now, who notably moves through the kitchen swiftly and with as little clicking and clanking as he can muster.

“-And so, that’s what happened on Tatooine.” Paz whispers, looking at your parted lips and lightly closed eyelids.

The fire casts a harmonious glow on your face, making your features look warmer, livelier, serene.

You look utterly angelic.

He remembers how you crumbled in his arms not five hours ago, pained and distressed and lonely. You sought him out even though you didn’t know him, not knowing how much he’d admired you from afar. To see your normally light and radiant face masked with such despair, he couldn’t bear to see it again.

He watches your sleeping form take a staggering breath, your body relaxing into its position, nudging your face further into where it fell on his shoulder. He dares to let the arm wrapped around the couch lower slightly, so that it rests comfortingly around your form.

“Sleep, cyar’ika,” He whispers. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He hopes his silent promise is enough to soothe your sleeping form, listening to your breathing even out to a more peaceful rhythm.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need.”

---------------------

Translations:

Alor - chancellor Vod’ika - little sister Osik - shit Di’kut - idiot Jare’la - stupidly oblivious of danger / asking for it. Alor’ad - captain Tayli’bac, vod? - Do you understand, mate? (menacing) Elek! Elek, alor’ad! - Yes! Yes, captain! N’eparavu takisit! - I’m sorry (lit. I eat my insult) Alor’ika - little leader Utreekov - fool, idiot (lit. emptyhead)

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a/n two: They both think the other person’s voice sounds like pure honey.. 🥺

also we need more Paz x reader content on Tumblr my dudes. 

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Taglist: @wandsmith​ 💖

#paz vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #paz x reader #the mandalorian #soft!paz #mandalorian x reader #angst

[randombtsprincessa]

Buoyed Up

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Genre: Fluffy Smut

Rating: Mature/Explicit (18+)

Summary: You take your boyfriend to soak up the sun on his birthday.

Playlist: Robokid - Ur Touch | Figgy - Do It Like Us | Tinashe - Days In The West (Drake Cover) (Ekali Remix)

Warnings: Yatching trip, Hoseok gets wet and shirtless, ogling, explicit smut, nipple/breast play, nipple biting, face sitting, unprotected sex (be safe folksies), hickies, profanity, dirty talk and dirty thoughts.

A/N: Happy birthday to my beautiful Sunboy! I would also like to thank @yeoldontknow​ for the nipple play inspiration and a special someone who shall not be named for the face sitting scene. I know you’re going to read this, don’t play. 

You had never been this thankful for a correct weather forecast before.

The sky and sea stretched out seamlessly in front of you in a brilliant canvas of blue. The wind was crisp and fresh. The wooden slats of the dock platform squeaked in your ears and right in your line of sight was the magnificence you had booked for one of the most important events of the year.

The star of said event was behind you, clutching your hand stretched out between you, fingers entwined. The squeezes he trapped your hands in could be seen as a form of expressing his affection…or simply conveying how nervous he was right now.

Your eyes, protected by the darkened haze of the sunglass could spy the captain and owner of the Yacht boat, wrapping and tying cords at the entrance, feet following the direction when one final, tighter squeeze made you pause, turning to look askance at the man behind you.

Hoseok, the birthday boy, wore a silky white shirt, so long and baggy it almost completely hid his lithe frame, nearly kissing his knees. Beneath them, you could just spy his denim shorts, and beneath them…well, his knees shook a little and toes squiggled in his sandals.

“What?” You asked.

“I just…um, are you sure, it’s alright for us to…take a boat?” He queried.

You paused. “What?” You tried again.

“I mean, things could go wrong if we’re alone. Storms, leaks, shark attacks, whale attacks,” He listed and for a split second, you allowed amusement to color your tone.

“Whales, baby?” You teased and he grumbled.

You had to sigh. You knew your boyfriend was a bit…easily rattled. So when you’d announced your plans for his birthday and he’d whooped enthusiastically, you’d taken a minute to talk him through it. It was a yacht, a decently large and comfortable engine based boat which would take you across to a private section of the shallows where you would spend the day. You would drive, there would be food and drinks and a luxurious day of sunning.

He had been thoroughly stress relieved, with fried chicken and soda before agreeing to your plans.

Of course, you should’ve known that coming out here and seeing things for himself would bring his earlier fears back to the surface.

You tugged him closer to your body. “If you’re really worried, then we can go back. I’m sure I can get a bit of a refund if we ask nicely.”

Hoseok didn’t meet your eyes, looking over your head at the captain who had spotted you by now, getting to his feet expectantly. “Did you pay a lot?”

“Just the standard fee; but your comfort is more important.” You promised, soothing a hand across his bicep.

“I’m…I’m fine, I just…”

“I’ll be steering, we will only go to the shallows and come straight back tomorrow.” You reassured again.

His big brown eyes met yours now, triangle lips pouting in thought before he uttered one word. “Fine,”

The captain, a hand carding through his crew cut, grinned at you when you finally towed Hoseok over to him and his boat. “Good morning, ma’am, didn’t I tell you there’ll be good sun and wind the day you want her?”

You laughed. “Yes, captain, you sure did. This is the birthday boy, by the way; Hoseok, my boyfriend.”

“Pleasure,” He stretched out a hand to shake Hoseok’s, toothily beaming. “You got a fine vibe around you, sir.”

Hobi hesitated before managing a smile. “So, who’s the ‘her’ you were talking about?” he asked.

The Cap turned, placing a gentle hand along the gleaming body of the yacht. “The most precious thing I own, meet Ferret. Come on in”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Hoseok’s stunned expression as he moved in. “He calls it Ferret?” He muttered.

“It’s cute,” You returned, turning your attention to the man in question as he gave you a basic run down of the boat again. You’d already gotten the tutorial and studied the manuals thoroughly over the last month.

You moved over the large reception and living space, glancing through the stocked little kitchenette in the back. The bedroom and bathroom were below deck, and the sun bed and fore deck sparkled from the cleaning it had undergone.

“What do you think?” You asked.

Hoseok sat on the padded sofa in the living, looking around and considering. “It’s good, I like it.”

“That’s what I like to hear. So, if that’ll be all, ma’am; I’ll hop off board.” He walked off, untying the rope that held the Ferret to its spot. “You’ll be back by noon tomorrow, eh?”

“Absolutely,” You shook his hand again, watching him cast a look over the vessel once more.

When he walked off, disappearing around the corner of the wooden walkway, you turned around to see your boyfriend smiling lightly at you.

“What?” You said, returning the smile.

“Nothing, just…” His teeth peeked out. “I’m happy I get to spend the day with you. I hope the guys don’t miss me too much.”

“They can have you tomorrow.” You reached out to pull him to his feet, planting a smacking kiss on his upturned lips. “Today you’re mine. Now come up, let’s take Ferret for a ride.”

Hoseok and you climbed up on to the ‘cockpit’ of the Ferret, set up high on the deck and over the galley for visibility and navigation.

“You’re sure you know how to do this, right? Don’t make me have to sail us back tomorrow.” He joked, climbing on to the day bed next to the steering console table as you sat in the chair.

“I might just throw you overboard on your birthday.” You warned absentmindedly.

You slid in the master key first, turning it and pressing the toggle switches on. The LED display lit up, welcoming the captain and panels of instruction and controls came up.

“Where are we going?” Hoseok asked again, curiously, watching you fiddle with the steering, the autopilot and infra red view to go over anything that may come up under the boat. He wasn’t too enthused with the idea but safety was key if he wanted to come back to shore with you.

“We’ll head over to the shallows; find a quiet spot to spend the day. Tomorrow we sail back.” You explained before the purr of the engine carried over the winds.

He watched you turn the small wheel on the control, carefully maneuvering out and away from the docks. The other boats and water vessels slowly decreased in size with the distance gained and again Hoseok internally expressed some gratitude to the heavens that his birthday came up on a relatively less busy day. It was not too cold to take far off vacations but it was still too cold to take one as this.

“Kick back, we have some time before we get there.” You said and he did just that.

Dropping his head back, he tossed his arms up behind to cradle his skull. The sun basked platform warmed his back, which his face heated up with the sun overhead. Soon it would be hot enough to actually warrant a dip in the seas.

He turned his head to look at his girlfriend, hair tied up and off the face, back ramrod straight even though there was nothing in the vicinity to even remotely pose a threat. She was wearing his chain, he noticed. The idea bloomed adoration in his chest, expanding and breathing air into his veins.

The engine had moved from a kitten’s purr to a loud roar, kicking up sea spray that misted around the vessel, cool and smooth as it hit the exposed parts of his skin. He undid the small scarf he had looped into his belt loop to wrap around his hair. He doubted it would do much, but he didn’t want to risk the salt water messing with the dye that was still settling into his scalp.

By the time they reached the shallows, it was reaching midday. You had cut the engine when you reached the shallows, steering till you were close to one of the small out crop of beach land that attracted the tourists. He could spy only one family, farther away into the distance but thankfully, they were too far to make their presence known obviously.

The autopilot engaged just in case, both of you migrated down to the galley, with you digging out a bottle of chilled champagne from the kitchenette. The bubbly popped loudly, with Hoseok cringing at the volume before the rich, crisp alcohol was poured into a stem less flute, kept to the minimum because his tolerance of alcohol was laughably low and well known.

He shuddered to imagine flushing crimson and losing touch with reality this early into the day.

The first hour was given to simply sitting in the shaded part of the deck, nursing the alcohol and catching up on the activities that were missed out on due to the hectic schedules of your lives.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his frame as he lounged back, feet up on the table, hair fluffing with the passing breeze. The heat, contrasting with the coolness of the sea air and the champagne was enough to lull you into the sleepy state, his soft hums echoing in your ear.

“Hey,” He said finally, his voice teasing. “Don’t’ fall asleep on me now.”

You smiled, sitting up against him. “Sorry, you just feel so peaceful.”

Hoseok kissed you softly before his eyes flickered to the expanse of water behind you. “Take a swim with me?”

Hoseok had been right. The sun had warmed the air enough for the water to be tolerable. Salty, cool and soothing, he plunged into the not too deep waters, his girlfriend laughing as she tossed one of the yacht’s floats in after him.

His head popped up just as you sat down at the edge of the boat, your feet kicking up water towards him.

“Aren’t you going to join?” He called.

“Nah, I want to watch you enjoy.” Your smirk made it clear you were enjoying the view indeed, fingers playing with the fabric of his discarded shirt.

Hoseok smirked right back, swimming closer so he could grab onto a wayward ankle. “Are you planning some mischief, darling?” He asked.

Your face turned impish. “Of course not,” You returned.

“Too bad, because I am.”

A hand smacked hard at the water, cupping and sending a wave of water straight at your face. He backed up quickly, laughing wildly at the stunned look on your face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you!” You screeched, slipping off the deck straight into the water, uncaring of the water soaking through your clothes as you chased after Hoseok.

You spent about an hour in the water, splashing at each other and trying to swim around the other to escape the constant barrages of water. Even as the sun began to dip westwards, the temperature dropped, the cool water chilling against your skin.

Hoseok made you clamber up first, following quickly as you allowed the sea water to drain away first before entering the living space of the yacht.

The evening sun slanted down the slatted windows, illuminating the bags of clothes you’d stocked for the trip two days ago, when you were checking over the yacht one last time. A duffel bag, stuffed with both of your underwear, two extra tops and a change of pants.

Hobi moved to his clothes quickly as you flung them out onto the bed, quickly shucking off the shorts he wore, revealing his boxer briefs, the band hanging just at his pelvis. He grabbed one of the towels from the warming racks, hastily rubbing at his torso even as your actions slowed and then stopped completely, staring at your boyfriend’s visage in the mirror.

Thinly muscled arms moved quickly but precisely, catching any stray drops of water that gathered on his skin and you had to bite your lip, shaking yourself to snap out of it. You still had a cake to cut, damn it.

“What?”

You started, catching Hoseok’s gaze that had now found yours in the mirror. “What are you looking at?” He asked, looking down at himself to see if it was something stuck to his chest that had garnered your attention.

You smiled, handing him the hoodie from the bed, which he quickly zipped over his body, the zipper only reaching midway and leaving his clavicle available to your fervent gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You shrugged. “I just like seeing you shirtless. Never going to get over it,”

Hoseok stopped fluffing his hair, his mouth falling open first in shock at your blatant admission before he was snorting in laughter, body caving from his mirth. It had always been an endearing sight for you. The way his hair turned to floof, his lips and cheeks trembling to contain his chortles and the strain of his body - not from anything stressful though, but pure laughter.

He was beautiful and while it softened your heart for the man across from you, it did nothing to slake your lust.

If anything, it increased your desire to lay him down on the bed and ride him till he was a panting and moaning mess under you, your name on his tongue as he spilled in you.

You cleared your throat, looking away from the mirror and the real thing, down to your fresh clothes.

Cake…you had cake to cut…and dinner to eat.

And even though your body screamed to jump him right then and there, you were a self disciplined woman. You could last.

“Babe, do you mind waiting outside for a bit while I change?”

“Of course,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing the towel to drape around his neck as he exited the room, clicking the door shut after him.

Only then did you relax, peeling your own wet clothes off to change into the dry ones.

Fifty minutes later, Hoseok and you sat on the small dinner table that folded up from one of the couches. Hobi set the table while you cooked in the small kitchen attachment, all of Hoseok’s favorite food and snacks making their way on to the table. Kimchi fried rice steamed, sending tendrils of white mist up which curled around your man as he inhaled the aroma, a glass of Sprite bubbling at his hand.

You had decked out the room with soft fairy lights, too paranoid to risk candles, even though you were out into the water.

“This smells so good, did you add anything extra?”

“Just a lot of love,” You winked, already having promised to not reveal that fact that his mom had given you most of the secret keys to Hoseok’s heart…via his stomach. Fried sesame seeds in a little soy sauce underlying the taste of Kimchi…and here you were.

You swirled a finger around the glass of wine at the counter, waiting for him to dig in and take the first bite, moaning almost immediately as the rice hit his taste buds. “God, I swear my mom cooked this.” he shot you a suspicious look before deciding to let it go.

You grinned, reaching into the small under the counter fridge to pull out the cake.

You had bought, decorated and candled it at least ten days ago, making your best friend hide it in her fridge first before bringing it here. The glass top of the container was lifted carefully, lighting the candles quickly.

Making sure he was still eating, you quickly reached back and turned off the lights, plunging the room in near darkness. Another switch flicked on the fairy lights and the room was then lit up in a beautiful array of orange and pink, revealing Hobi’s surprised face as he looked up with a squawk of protest.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a little high pitched.

You didn’t answer, only picking up the cake and carrying it to the table. Hobi’s expression melted in an O, eyes sparkling at the army bomb candles you’d found. The small picture of you two on the standee, taken on your last anniversary, mirrored his smile.

“I hope you like it.” You mumbled. “I got cherry and strawberry cream filling inside.”

“This is amazing baby, thank you.” He whispered, leaning forward towards the cake.

You folded your arms on the table, “Go on; make a wish.”

Hoseok’s face sobered. He glanced up at you before closing his eyes, a second later blowing out the candles in a quick puff, the only source of light now the twinkling tiny beads that littered the ceiling and walls. His eyes opened, meeting yours with something like awe in his gaze.

“Happy Birthday baby,” You said lightly.

“Babe, you really pulled out all the stops this time.” He whispered.

I laughed, shrugging non-committal. “You’re my boyfriend, and it’s your birthday. I just wanted you to have a nice time.”

“I am.”

“I may have also made a bet with the guys about who you’re going to enjoy spending more time with.”

There was silence in which Hoseok sighed, shaking his head at yours and his friends’ antics but then you were straightening up. “So, what did you wish for?”

“You know, revealing a wish makes it moot.” He pointed out with a smile before grabbing your hand. “But I don’t need to wish for anything more because I have everything I could want right here.” He raised your hand to place a kiss to your knuckles.

You gave him a look. “You wished for a Grammy, didn’t you?”

Hoseok burst out laughing for the second time that evening, thumb caressing the back of your hand. He gave you a coy smile. “You know, I’m having a very nice time right now.”

You nodded.

“But I could be having a nicer time…how about dessert?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You have a whole cake in front of you.”

“Babe!” He whined even as you giggled, leaning over to kiss his nose.

“Well, lucky for you I was thinking the same thing.”

Hoseok beamed, meeting your lips halfway in a soft kiss. His hair tickled your forehead, fingers brushing over the shell of your ears to delve into your hair. He scratched the soft skin of your scalp, a tiny trigger for you. It made you moan, keen further into his body. Somehow he managed to stand you up, guiding you back towards the yacht bedroom with giddy giggles left in your wake.

Once inside, Hoseok pulled you tighter against him, mouthy sounds and soft pants filling the room along with the gentle lapping of the waves outside and noises one can hear at night out in nature. It made the experience feel closer, more intimate as his hands ran over your skin, mapping out roads he’d explored time and again.

The first thing you did when you managed to pull your hands from around his neck was unzip the hoodie, taking your time to trail your fingertips lightly down the now exposed span of skin. Smooth, soft and supple, you couldn’t help but marvel at him being yours.

Hobi gathered your hair away from your neck, his mouth tracing from the edge of your jaw, nuzzling and nipping towards your neck. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, hitching it up till he was pulling it up off you, tossing it to join his hoodie on the floor.

“Fuck,” he whispered at the sight of your naked chest, having forgone a bra.

Nudging his knee to yours, he backed you into the bed. You sat down with a thump, the mattress bouncing with your fall and started crawling back, Hoseok stalking after you on his hands and knees.

When you were finally propped on the pillows as to his liking, he dipped to kiss down your body again, encasing a sensitive, peaked nipple in his hot mouth, laving it over with saliva. Your head tilted back, back arching into his mouth until his other hand wrapped around the other, kneading it in rhythm with his tongue, essentially pushing you down to the bed.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you cried when he playfully bit into the nub, blunt teeth testing the waters between pain and pleasure. You glanced down to see him look up at you, pulling his lips back to show you the sight and you had to wrap a leg around his waist to tether you to earth. Swollen and dark with the attention, your chest stood out, resting in his hot mouth as he continued to swirl his tongue around it.

When he saw your attention was on him, he lowered his teeth again, pressure increasing steadily until you whined and he let go, pulling away to blow cool air onto the skin.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, pressing further in to make friends with the heat that settled in your thorax. It pulsated and thrummed in your blood, the very line he had made you just walk, mocking you.

The return of Hoseok’s hand, cupping your other mound, fingers gentle but insistently pulling at the other nipple made you look at him again.

“Good?” he asked.

You smiled nodding; your hand joining his to brush your own nipple before you followed the length of his arm, touching his chest, dragging over the sternum to where his happy trail disappeared into his pants.

He leaned in over you, kissing you again, slower, more intense, enough for you to chase after his tongue to suck on. You threw your arm around his neck, holding him to you as tight as you could as if his kissed poured life-breath into your soul.

“Easy baby,” he chuckled in your ear. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He placed a kiss under your jaw and added a pinch to the nipple he was playing with for added measure.

He moved further down the bed, tugging on your hand to sit you up.

“Come on, I want my dessert.” He winked at you mischievously, throwing his body down to the bed to comfortable lie down, grinning up at you. “Get on here.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I mean, it’s your birthday, don’t you -,”

“Shh, it’s my birthday and I know what I want. That’s you; grinding that pretty pussy into my mouth, till you come on my tongue. You can suck me off all you want when it’s your day.”

You gasped, smacking at his shoulder till you were getting onto your knees, crawling over to him and swinging a leg across him. His hands immediately clamped onto the tops of your thighs, squeezing in reassurance.

This wasn’t the first time you were doing this, Hoseok being insistent on your pleasure before him or sometimes only yours, allowed for ‘experiments’ that would enable him to find clues and notes to your body that he blatantly exploited to make you putty in his hands.

A dash of compliments, a pinch of soft kisses, grips of comfort and maybe a good meal if you’ve had a long day revealed to be the key to get you to ride his face. And today, to your dawning realization, he’d played you just as you had attempted to play him.

Damn his brains…

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, much closer to your core now before he was helping you lower yourself to his mouth.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips rove in a circle over the most sensitive part of your inner thigh, just at the apex where he loved to hover. He nibbled the skin, teasing it with his tongue and teeth before a hand was smoothing over your rear, warning you of the coming onslaught.

You leaned back to watch the sight. Hoseok’s dark hair upon the bed, his glimmering forehead with a few stray strands matted to the skin and then those eyes.

Eyes that shimmered with greedy lust, mirroring yours and overwhelming in the way they channeled your wants through them. If there was anyone who was truly able to give you a peek into their soul by their eyes; it was Hoseok.

And you, oh so, loved it…

The first deep, hard swish of his tongue along your slit had your moan catching in your throat, coming out broken and whiny. There was no time to get acclimated to the sensation of the barest hint of stubble against your soft skin as he moved his tongue again, back and forth, collecting your arousal and massaging it back into your folds.

You chanced a look downwards, seeing Hoseok’s eyes closed too, eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration. His nose was buried inside you and you could feel his breath waft against you.

“Fuck Hobi,” You finally breathed out, not even out of pleasure but the sheer picture he painted with the way he looked. You could write odes but none would ever match his glory.

He pulled away from your core, grinning up at you.

“I like it when you say that.” He told you, index finger resuming the path of his tongue, circling on your clit. He looked down at it. “I like it when this pussy quivers.” He slipped the digit inside and you swore he had hit the spot at first try.

You wouldn’t be surprised, he had had enough practice.

“Yeah?” You asked, sounding lame.

“Oh definitely,” he hummed. “But you know what I like even more?”

You looked at him puzzled, eyes widening when he smacked your ass lightly, jolting you against his finger. “I like when you actually ride my face.”

You stared.

“What are you waiting for?”

You kept your eyes on him before slowly anchoring your hands back on his chest. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed, his tongue poking out and then you hesitantly rolled your hips, the pearl of your clit catching the ridge of his tongue.

“Good,” He nodded as best as he could from under you. “Now; do it like you mean it; use me, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the small burning ember in your pelvic floor before grinding down insistently; feeling the bare hint of tongue increase till it was basically a landing pad for you. Your nerve ending sizzled with each contact, Hobi’s hands moving and tracing patterns into your hips to keep you going until you were giving him exactly what he wanted, coming over his tongue.

The digit in your cunt doubled, the soft muscle digging into your core to lap up any wetness he could find but all it did was add to the mess until you couldn’t stand the friction. You writhed away from him, rolling onto the bed haphazardly, Hoseok following. He gripped onto your wrists, pulling you closer to coo over you, praising you for the job well done.

You were his good girl, he was going to fuck you real slow and nice for this; you felt rather than hear his whispers, muffled even though they were against your shoulder.

Hoseok collected you in his arms, winding and tight to your back.

“Can you lift your leg, baby?”

You did as he asked, with Hoseok helping you prop the leg until it lay over his upper arm. The stretch burned, but you knew he was walking the line between pain-pleasure again.

When you felt him enter you, slow but steady, filling you to the brim in one practiced slide, your eyes met his – gazes locked with unsaid words that didn’t need to be voiced out loud.

It was there in your touches, in your kisses, in the way you looked at each other.

He thrust, hips canting into yours and your head fell back, knowing he was going to take care of both him and you this time around. His pace remained calm, the only indicators of his unraveling being the grunts echoing in your ears and the way his lips and kisses became teeth and bites; littering the skin of your neck and shoulders with the mark of his desire for you.

His hands had moved from your back to your ass, gripping the soft flesh to fuck into you, rolling his hips until your sweat slicked bodies moved as one, plunged into a blissful orgasm that painted your body with splashes of his overflowing pleasure.

Hoseok cursed, grabbing onto his length to drive further into you, cock twitching and emptying the last of its essence into your cove.

“Holy shit,” You were the first to speak.

“Yeah,” Your loved raised his head, eyebrows quirked. “No shit,”

You both broke into giggles before he was gently pulling out, tutting at the mess that was probably on the bed. “I sure hope the captain of Ferret has fresh sheets on board.”

You raised a lazy hand, pointing towards the cupboard where you were told extra linens would be. Hoseok got up, golden and naked for your viewing pleasure before a particular notion had you grabbing at his hand, making him turn to you.

“You enjoyed your birthday with me more than you will with the guys’ right?”

“Oh baby,” He laughed, kissing your nose. “They can’t hope to give me the kind of celebration you just did.”

#bts jhope #jhope x reader #bts #ficswithluv #btsguild #bangtansorciere #btswriterscollective #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #jhope #jung hoseok #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic

[autistic-lalli]

I dont know how to properly frame my question, but autistic!lalli has always been a headcanon I readily claimed as canon in my heart because it MAKES PERFECT SENSE in my brain. But besides me, what I'd like to ask is what traits/habits/behaviors Lalli has that immediately clicked to you that he was autistic? Or showed that he was? Like, gush to me about them

(this is mainly so I can get better at writing him and also because I'm curious to know! Actually, SLAP me with EVERYTHING about Lalli, if you can 😂 I'd love to actually know everything)

This topic was also requested by @the-story-isnt-over-yet ! This post is for both y’all :)

I’m going to try to keep this organized, but we’ll see how successful I am. First up, I’ll talk through Lalli’s general traits, then the traits I picked out quickly and resonated with, and then I’ll touch on a couple other things that stand out to me!

Sensory Experience

Lalli repeatedly displays sensory-avoiding and sensory-seeking behaviors. He likes soft textures and sweets—he picks himself up a big ol’ fluffy cloak in Adventure 2, and his mind conjures him a nice and soft one in his dreamspace, and we all know how he feels about pastries. He’s always willing to eat sweets and breads, which suggests that Lalli has samefoods as well (samefoods are like a comfort food, but taken up to eleven; foods that always sound good, sometimes to the point that they’re the only thing an autistic person can eat.) It’s just a single line, but where Lalli tells Emil that he hates blueberries, it makes me think of a very specific picture (I’ll link it later if I can find it.) Blueberries, and other fruit, don’t taste the same every time! Some are sweet, some are sour, some are mushy, some are grainy, and some are juicy. When you don’t know what to expect from a food, this makes it hard to want to eat it, even if some aspect of the flavor is good.

But I digress! One thing that I resonated with right away with Lalli is that he clearly has sensitive proprioceptive awareness. That just means the sense of where your body is in space. When Lalli sleeps or hides under a bunk or table, he’s reducing his sensory input. Being in a small space is comforting because there’s less space to be aware of.

Lalli is also sensitive to touch, which is a fairly easy trait to spot. He doesn’t like the friendly punches the crew delivers, and even balks at Emil’s touch when he’s upset. There are exceptions, but those exceptions come at times when Lalli is calm and expecting the touch to occur.

And sound! Lalli doesn’t like loud sounds, in particular loud people (sorry, Sigrun.) This is a great place to talk about Lalli’s shutdowns. We don’t see Lalli experience meltdowns, but he does have a shutdown a couple times. Shutdowns are a response to stress and sensory overload. It looks different for everyone, and since it’s internal, it’s hard to tell how exactly Lalli’s shutdowns run. However, we see him cover his ears to block out sound and hum (“mrr!”) in order to calm himself down. He’s just trying to regulate his sensory experience. His humming is also an example of vocal stimming.

Social Difficulties

Lalli definitely has social difficulties, but it can be hard to tell which difficulties are due to the language barrier and which are due to his brain chemistry. But! Paying attention to the first part of the story, when he’s with all Finnish-speakers, as well as the dream sequences can really help us hone in on those traits.

Lalli, in general, doesn’t understand other people beyond what they say. He doesn’t understand body language or sarcasm—he doesn’t get why everyone’s punching him, he doesn’t know when Tuuri’s joking and when she’s serious, and he stares at Emil because he’s curious about him and doesn’t realize it’s impolite. He doesn’t notice when Emil is rude and doesn’t understand social scripts like saying “thank you” and “you’re welcome.” When he wants to express approval or comfort, he gives a soft pat to the other person. More touch than that might be too much for him, but he does want to express something, and pats are an excellent tool in that way.

Lalli’s inability and/or refusal to learn or use the crew member’s names also gives us insight to how Lalli faces social conundrums. To him, everyone else is more distinguishable by the epithets he gives them—their names don’t mean anything. It’s like naming someone “flower delivery guy” in your phone contacts instead of “Greg.”

Lalli also isn’t easily frightened. The only times we see him be really afraid is when someone he loves is in immediate mortal danger. The everyday stuff like trolls and omens don’t scare him, which is certainly in part just because he’s used to these things. Trolls and spirits are an everyday part of his life. But an unusual lack of fear is a common autistic experience as well, so I suspect it goes beyond Lalli’s accustomation.

Other Traits

A couple other things that didn’t fit into either of the former categories! First of all, the rubik's cube. That’s just autistic solidarity. Emil picked up a stim toy for his bf, we love to see it.

But also, Lalli relies a lot on his routine. That’s probably why the military, and scouting in particular, suited him. He has his own personal routine that is the same day in and day out. He tries to keep a routine on the expedition, but isn’t able to, which increases the amount of stress he’s under. Nothing is predictable, which automatically makes everything more stressful.

Relationships

I also think the dynamics of Lalli’s different relationships are super interesting and really highlight some things that aren’t often covered in media with autistic characters. It’s super heartbreaking the way Onni and Tuuri don’t seem to understand Lalli. Tuuri especially doesn’t understand why Lalli does the things he does, and doesn’t seem to make any effort to understand, which is sadly a common experience for many autistic people.

On the other hand, Emil’s reactions are the complete opposite. As I put it to a friend once, Emil often makes mistakes with Lalli, but he never crosses the same boundary twice. He lets Lalli have agency in their relationship. If Lalli has a boundary that inconveniences Emil, he doesn’t complain about it, he simply adapts. Lalli has very specific needs in his relationships, needs that are both unusual and difficult for him to communicate, so it’s far easier for him to just default to being a loner.

Me & Lalli

On a personal level, I have a whole lot of these traits. I stim with soft things, I’m sensitive to sound, I tend to be hypersensitive with my proprioceptive sense, I had to intentionally teach myself to read body language (I work as a theatre artist, which helped a lot,) I’m not easily frightened, I’m sensitive to touch and sound, and I certainly struggle socially. Furthermore, I actually had an untreated sleep disorder until about a year and a half ago, so I deeply resonated with Lalli’s chronic exhaustion.

Truth be told, I headcanoned Lalli as autistic from his introductory card, and I knew he was autistic within ten pages. Chronically exhausted and doesn’t know what’s going on? Mine now.

The Autism Metaphor

I talk about this some in my autism and superpowers post, but I really love that Lalli is both autistic and is living an autistic metaphor. It’s not uncommon for characters who can see or sense other things (ghosts, spirits, emotions, danger, etc.) to read as autistic, because that’s what autism often feels like. Our sensory experience is so distinct and we are so aware of it that it can feel like a superpower at times--in a good way and in a bad way. We’re living in a sensory world that a lot of neurotypical people don’t understand. Furthermore, these kinds of powers or sensitivities usually come with an isolating social impact in these stories, which only strengthens the metaphor for autism.

But Lalli has both actual autism and is a mage. He sees spirits and omens and can sense when trolls are near, and also is sensitive to sounds and doesn’t like to be touched. These things aren’t related to one another, but they all read as being in the same category, which both deepens the metaphor and makes him really interesting as an autistic character.

This is also why Onni readily reads as autistic as well. We don’t have as much direct evidence for him, and in many ways his trauma seems to run much deeper than it does in Lalli and Tuuri, so it’s hard to separate out what’s a trauma response and what’s an autistic response. Overall, I’m quite a fan of “no Hatakoinen is neurotypical,” but that’s a post for another day ;)

I’ll also be posting a panel or two of an instance where Lalli is displaying an autistic trait each day for the month of April!

#stand still stay silent #sssscomic #lalli hotakainen #autismacceptancemonth2021 #meta #actually autistic #long post

[miaremy]

⇜ well, technically speaking, ⇝

the benefit of being an underachiever is that you can be back at the safezone just in time for everything to go to shit.

actually, jj and gaeul have been here for a while now. they did about the bare minimum they could as far as scouting went, returned to the safe zone, and were about to start playing tic tac toe with rocks because they had nothing better to do. that's how you know they hit rock bottom (no pun intended, for the most part.) jj and gaeul playing tic tac toe. surely they would've invented a more entertaining game within about thirty seconds, but still. the fact that they even had to consider it.

everything started kicking off when word began to float around that com devices were down. sure enough, jj checked his own only to come to the same conclusion. well, anyone that didn't come to that conclusion would be dumber than burglars from the home alone movies, and they got thwarted by an eight year old multiple times. sure, the eight year old was smart or whatever but he's pretty sure those guys were too stupid to know how to read.

"coms are down agent mist," he reports, even though he's sure gaeul probably knows already too. for whatever reason, they're both out here in the field, so he might as well treat it like an actual mission.

besides, if coms are down, it is a little concerning. celest is usually on top of things like that. it concerns him that he doesn't even know what any of this is for, either. who or what are the senior agents looking for? did they look into it sufficiently? are they sure whatever distress signal they intercepted isn't a trap? they sent the most important agents out there. what happens if the entire team gets wiped out? he has some qualms with this strategy, but he's just a baby agent with even less sway than most because jinx hates him, but maybe jinx should come up with better strategies if she doesn't want feedback.

now's not the time, though. he knows this. lerissa arrives right before jj asks gaeul if they should try to figure out if they can get any coms back online. he pays attention-- watches as she treats suhwan and seoyun who are almost dead? how did he miss that? suddenly too much is going on. his mind races, and where usually he would try to steer clear of lerissa-- nothing personal, it's just the med wing that he has beef with --now, he wants to do what he can to help.

she calls for anyone technically savvy to do what they can to get local coms up, and he looks to gaeul. "i was just about to suggest we do that before she came," he says. now they have express permission, which jj never really requires, but ensures their important business of saving the entire mission won't get interrupted.

he starts off toward the local coms tower, squints at the screws on one of the panels once he arrives, then busts out one of the screwdrivers in his backpack. yes, he packed screwdrivers. he figured all of these agents would bring a plethora of weapons and typical supplies. who else would be prepared for technical disaster? probably only him and gaeul, and probably agent lurker, who's currently out there with the other seniors. that serves as both a comfort and point of terror for him, but he tries not to think about it, and instead unscrews the panel, getting a good look at the wiring inside to make sure everything looks as it should from this angle. if he had to guess, this incredibly convenient meia-wide coms outage is probably a result of hacking, but he wants to check this first-- definitely not because he just wants to see what the inside of the local coms tower looks like.

"hey, somebody stuck some gum in here," he says, only to add, entirely deadpan: "just kidding."

↪ @miagaeul

#miagaeul #mialoreevent1 #x INTERACTIONS #x WTS #admin approved plot btw for anyone watching at home ASDFSDGSDG

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

#thgagain #not even gonna reread this so it’s for sure littered with typos 🥳🥰😅🤭😬🙃😭🤗😏😶

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Competition

note: I just felt like writing some angry, jealous Chris...enjoy :)

words: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex

"I am Chris Cuomo, live from New York with my collegue Y/N Y/L/N, keeping you updated on this 2020 presidential election all through the night.”

The camera switched to you as you greeted the viewers before handing it over to Phil on the magic wall, right in time so the giant yawn you had to let out wasn’t caught live.

"Pull yourself together, Y/L/N.“ Chris whispered across the anchor desk and discreetly slid a cup of coffee your way.

You rolled your eyes at him, that was easier said than done. It was the second night of the election coverage and you ran on nothing but naps and caffeine for two days now. You spent all your time off air preparing your nightly coverage, doing panels for the day shift, keeping track with the incoming numbers and doing calculations. It was exhausting, and you had no idea how Chris managed to not only be wide awake, but also look impeccable doing so.

It was the first major event the two of you had covered as co-anchors, you had never worked with him before and maybe that was for the better. Because while he was a brilliant journalist and you had already learned a lot from him, he also was a huge pain in the ass, and the fact that he teased you all the time was only made worse by the surge of heat that went through you every time he stared at you with those damn blue eyes.

Yes, you had a slight crush on him, but you blamed it entirely on sleep deprivation and would never even dream about acting on it. You had this big event to cover, and that’s where all you focus was, or at least should be.

The camera swayed back to you right in time for you to announce a key race alert, calling the next state for Biden. A good way to start the night.

+++

"And that’s it from us in New York, I’m Chris Cuomo and I’m now handing over to my colleagues in Washington, our live coverage on CNN continues after a short break. Thanks for spending your night with us.”

“Fuck me.“ you murmured, slumping your head down into the anchor desk as soon as the cameras were off.

You were absolutely bone tired, and you only had about a 10 hour break before preparations for the next night started, because there was no chance the race was going to be called in the next hours.

“Y/N?” one of the producers called your way. “Washington asks if they can have you up for a panel discussion at 10, and maybe another one in the afternoon?”

You groaned and just gave a thumbs up, it wasn’t like you had planned on going home anyways.

Deciding to squeeze in a nap in your office, you got up from your chair to at least get a couple hours of sleep. You walked through the hallways like a zombie, and didn’t pay any attention to where you were going until you ran right into a huge body, colliding with the persons chest with a huff.

“Come on, Y/L/N, too tired to keep your eyes open?” Someone chuckled, and you groaned internally. Cuomo was one of the last people you wanted to see now.

“Sorry, We can’t all be super humans who don’t need sleep.” You muttered, and tried to keep walking, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“You’re staying here until tonight?” Chris asked, and you just nodded tiredly in response.

"Join me in my office for a drink then?” He asked, and your eyebrows shot up.

“You keep alcohol here, Cuomo?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Emergency use only, but the craziness of those past hours calls for it, and you really look like you could use one.”

He was right, a drink sounded like heaven, and you were way too tired to be rational right now.

+++

“Shit, this is good.” You sighted, taking another sip of the scotch Chris had poured you, your head slumping back on the backrest of his comfortable leather couch.

Chris had already downed his drink and was now watching you from an armchair across from you.

“You need to toughen up.”he suddenly said.

“You’re doing a good job, you’re driven and intelligent. But you let stuff get to you too quickly. You need to stay focused 24/7, even under pressure like tonight, or the job will break you at some point.”

You blushed furiously, what he said hadn’t sounded mean or condescending at all, but you still got defensive.

“I didn’t have one single slip those past two days, cut me some slack, Cuomo, were all tired.” you snapped.

Chris face stayed as calm as his voice.

“I’m tired, yes, but you don’t see me yawning in front of the camera. You looked cute, don’t get me wrong, but I doubt the bosses will see it the same way.” He chuckled, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“I am not cute, I’m an anchor just as you are.” You hissed, your fists clenched in your lap. You got up from his couch. “I’m leaving now, I don’t need your condescending shit.”

Before you even reached the door, Chris had already caught your arm, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you back.

“Hey, no need to be cross, I was joking.”

He took a step closer to you, and you got a whiff of his aftershave mixed with the whiskey he just had. He smelled like heaven, and looked so stupidly good, even in his wrinkled dress shirt and with circles under his eyes, you hated him a bit for it.

You took a step back, hitting the office door behind you. Chris was so close now, watching you with dark eyes and a curious expression on his face.

“Well it wasn’t funny.“ you whispered, unable to come up with a better response. Your brain was fuzzy with alcohol and sleep deprivation, and couldn’t handle the situation.

"Or maybe you just need to loosen up a bit.“ Chris grinned, cocking his head to the side.

Looking back, you weren’t sure what made you do what you did next, maybe it was the whisky, or the lack of proper sleep, or both, but grabbed the fabric of Chris dress shirt and yanked him down, crashing your mouth onto his.

He appeared suprised and didn’t move for a second, but then his hands grabbed your arms and pressed you back against the door. He deepened the kiss, but just as you tried to reach out to bury your hand in his hair, he suddenly took a huge step back.

"You need to leave.“ he pressed out, even if his body language clearly said the opposite.

"What’s gotten into you?“ you asked, confused and slightly irritated.

“There’s no way in hell we’re doing this. Not here, not now, not ever.”

“But you just-“

“Look, I’m m sorry if I sent you the wrong signal, but we can’t do this. I know, we’re both tired and we had a drink and everything. But we’re working together. This isn’t right.” He let out a deep breath, before his face hardened. “I really think it would be best if you leave now. I’ll see you later, once we’re back on air.”

You felt absolutely mortified, you had been convinced that Chris had wanted the same thing, had you really been reading him so wrong?

You didn’t want to be in that situation any longer, already feeling the embarrassing sting of rejection manifesting itself with a giant flush creeping onto your face.

So you did the only thing you could come up with, you ran, locking yourself in your office and dreading facing Chris again.

+++

The joy and relief over the Biden victory had erased most of the exhaustion and pent up frustration you and the whole CNN team had felt during that election week. The guy who hated your network and the way each of you did their job was finally out of the White House, and that was a definitely reason to celebrate.

You were currently all gathered in the main office space where the bosses had thrown together a party, their way of appreciating your hard work during election week. There was music, amazing food and, much to your delight, an open bar.

It would’ve been a great evening if it wasn’t for the almost unbearable tension still hanging in the air between you and Chris. Looking back, you had no idea how you had managed to keep it so professional during the coverage following your encounter in his office.

Of course, being serious journalists, you didn’t let it show that there was any animosity between the two of you, but as soon as the cameras were off, Chris either completely ignored you or fled the room as fast as he could.

You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt, and even talking to him on air without showing that was incredibly difficult for you.

Now, you hadn’t spoken to him at all in the three days since the election was over, and you had finally decided that he wasn’t worth the many thoughts you had spent on him.

You wanted to have some fun tonight, have a chat and some drinks with your colleagues and not think about Chris Cuomo.

Which was pretty hard, considering that his huge frame was almost impossible to miss in the crowd, and you had felt his eyes on you more than once.

But you stood your ground, trying your best to appear unimpressed as you joked around with some blokes from the production team. One of them, a guy called Jim, seemed a bit into you, and you decided some harmless flirting wouldn’t hurt. The last days had been physically and emotionally exhausting, so some light banter was just what you needed.

You were in the midsts of laughing about a story Jim had just told, when your eyes caught Chris staring at you from across the room. And for some reason, he looked really mad.

You just raised your eyebrows at him and turned your attention back to your colleague. But you were only listening with half an ear, your thoughts were circling around Chris again.

What was the matter with him? It was when Jim put his hand on your arm and you saw Chris throwing another murderous stare your way that you realized what was happening.

Time for some fun, you thought, and leaned closer to your admirer to whisper into his ear.

“Would you be a dear and get us some more drinks?“

You laughed theatrically when he agreed, just for the effect, hoping Chris would see it. But when you looked up, he was nowhere to be found.

Jim was making his way to the bar now, so you decided to use the restroom real quick. You were just walking through the hallway, when suddenly, someone roughly grabbed your arm from behind you.

“You’re coming with me.” Chris growled and dragged you into the closest room, which did just happen to be his office.

As soon as the door slammed behind you, he had backed you up against it, his huge frame towering over you.

“Cuomo, what the fuck are you doing?” You spat, trying to get away, but his arms were on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. Your heart was beating like crazy, a sign of your treacherous body reacting to Chris’ closeness.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” Chris growled, “You like playing games with me?”

You were really annoyed now, he had no right to just treat you this way. But you couldn’t deny the the burn of arousal in your lower stomach at seeing him so worked up.

“Games? What’s your fucking problem, Cuomo? you can’t just drag me in here like that.”

“What were you doing with that asshole out there? That your new boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” You yelled back. “You were the one who basically kicked me out of your office the other day, and now you’re actually asking me-“

Before you could finish, Chris kissed you, pressing you against the door with his body. The kiss was almost brutal, his teeth clashing against yours, he bit your lip and his tongue plunged into your mouth.

It had you clawing your hands into his shirt, your arousal kickstarting as a noticeable bulge pressed against your stomach.

Your need for the man, that you had carefully bottled up for about a week now, was now hitting you with full force.

“What are you doing?” You gasped between kissed, your breath already rigged from arousal. You wanted him so bad, your whole body screaming to be touched by the man in front of you.

“Shut up.” Chris growled, his huge hands sliding under your dress to squeeze your ass. You moaned into his mouth, palming his rock hard erection through his trousers before starting to work on his belt buckle.

The groan Chris let out against the skin of your neck he was currently kissing sent a pool of wetness between your legs, and you doubled your efforts to finally get him out of his clothes.

When his huge cock finally sprung free, you couldn’t suppress a moan at the thought of feeling him inside you. It earned you a smug chuckle from Chris.

“Stop laughing and fuck me.”you whined, and he grabbed your panties, effortlessly tearing the thin lace from your body, bunching up your dress around your hips in the process, leaving your dripping core completely bare.

“Those were my favorites, Cuomo.” You growled, but he just gave you a sharp slap to your ass.

“I don’t fucking care, baby.”Chris replied, and before you could come up with a snarky remark, a huge finger slowly got pushed into you, making you throw your head back as you let out a needy whine.

“More, please.” You whispered.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby, I’ll give you everything you want.” Chris replied, withdrawing his fingers.

He picked you up and pushed you against the door with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. You didn’t care. He gave you one last hard stare before he slammed you down onto his cock without warning.

“Fuck.”You cried out , biting your fist to stop yourself from making any more noise, the office walls were thin.

“You like that baby? You think that damn boy out there could ever fuck you like that?”Chris pressed out, his hips thrusting in and out of you in a relentless pace. His brows were furrowed, teeth bared. He looked feral, aggressive, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to bruise. You were transfixed by his face, your eyes locked on his as he pounded into you harder and harder.

“I asked you a fucking question, could he ever fuck you like that?”

“No, never.” You cried out, your voice almost breaking.

“Shit, Chris, don’t stop, please.” you pleaded, throwing your head back against the door with each of his thrusts. You were not above begging, there was that raw possessiveness in his voice and the way he manhandled you, and it drove you wild. You had fully succumbed to him by now, going limp in his arms as your body shook with every hard snap of his hips.

“Look at me.” Chris snarled, delivering a particularly forceful slam, making your head snap up, your eyes meeting his.

“That fucking punk won’t ever touch you again.“ Chris accentuated his words by grabbing you even more roughly.

“You’re being ridic-shiiit.” You groaned, as Chris pressed you down onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot. He was so deep inside you, and when he dug his nails into the flesh of your tights, the sweet flash of pain pushed you right over the edge.

All the built up tension of the last days left your body as you clenched around Chris cock, trying to muffle your cries by burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“That’s it, fucking squeeze my cock, baby.” He breathed into your ear, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before he tensed up and spilled inside you.

He lowered you back onto your feet and you slumped back against the door before Chris carefully maneuvered you over to his couch, sitting down beside you.

“Where the hell did that come from?”You broke the silence. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around what just had happened, but there was no denying that you had enjoyed the hell out of it. Your body was still tingling with the afterglow of your orgasm.

“I did some thinking, and decided that I need to stop being an asshole and go for what I want.“ Chris shrugged. "I wanted to apologize and talk to you first. But when I saw this jerk putting his hands on you, I just snapped.“

“Glad you finally came to your senses, you were acting like a total idiot” you said, seriously at first, before a grin took over your face. “But I forgive you, we have a party to get back to, my bathroom break is already taking way too long. But how does dinner tomorrow night sound?”

“Great, actually.” Chris replied, giving you the first sincere smile that evening, and maybe the most sincere you had ever seen from him. "But stay away from that guy, or I’ll drag you in here again.“

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #fanfiction #cnn #cnn anchors #smut

[borat123]

NaruHina Analysis

Naruto Manga Part 1

Part 3

While everyone else doubt that Hinata could continue to fight, Naruto is seen getting very frustrated. He wants Hinata to prove that failures can change. By adopting his attitude she shows Naruto that she has the same mind set as him and that obviously creates a huge impact on the neglected orphan who no one pays any respect to. That someone admires him and adopts his nindo, that he has such an influence on someone is amazing to him. So thus he naturally respects her and believes in her. He’s very eager to watch and cheer for her, because he sees his own struggles in her and acknowledges her as an equal. While everyone else doubts, he believes and i think that’s very important.

Hinata attacks with all her strength, while Naruto’s words resonates in her mind. She never belittled Naruto, never judged him. She has always believed in him throughout her life, as we see in the flashbacks panels. We see here just how strong Hinata feels for Naruto. He is her comfort, her source of inspiration. She is treated like dirt by her family in a world that forces children to fight as soldiers. Hinata is a natural pacifist. Her calm and kind nature is too peaceful for war and perhaps that holds her back from her potential. Low self esteem and self doubt certaintly doesn’t help either. But when she looks at Naruto, she feels hope, that even she can achieve something, that she is worth something. She looks at the other ”failure” and feel admiration and hopefulness just from watching his behaviour. He’s load, she’s quiet. He is confident, she is insecure. He’s an extrovert, she’s shy. The opposite attracts.

May i ask why Kishimoto would bother to show this if it wasn’t important? Hinata is a side character, yet we see her internal dialogue and how she feels for the main character. All this has a meaning and the answer is that Hinata will become Naruto’s love interest.

Kurenai has seen how much Hinata has tried to change, even when she fails, she keeps trying. She even admits that, although Hinata will lose the match against Neji, Hinata has shown her will to change, and this is a huge step in the development of her character. Naruto is once again her source of inspiration. Knowing that Naruto is cheering for her and looking at her with completly diffrent eyes she feels confidence flow through her and believes in herself more than she ever has before. The look in her eyes says it all.

Hinata gets struck down by Neji and it looks like she has lost the match. I’ve seen comments from haters that say Hinata is weak or useless, but i mean really?! Do they even know who she’s fighting? We see two individual fights of Hinata, Neji and Pain. Neji is the Hyuga Prodigy and a genius, he is also a year older and fought with the intention to kill. And Pain, i mean oh boy. That bloke killed Kakashi, killed Jiraiya, defeated every single shinobi in the strongest village and blew it up with his own jutsu. Almost defeated Naruto and then still had enough Chakra to revive the whole village. He’s an absolute beast and has powers equal to a God. Only Naruto could defeat those two. Also if Hinata fought anyone else there except for Neji, Lee, Gaara, Sasuke and Naruto she most likely would have clapped them, with relative ease. Not everyone in the Hyuga Clan even unlocks the Byakugan and then they have to master the gentle fist. Which Hinata has done at the age of 12. (She also created her own jutsu in shipudden something that is on par with Naruto and Sasuke so she is far from weak).

The only thing that is on Naruto’s mind right now is Hinata. She is the only thing that matters to him and the only thing he can see in this moment. Naruto knows Hinata wants to change herself. He is seen getting quite upset when it appears that she is losing. Naruto payed so close attention to her that he was the first to notice that she was getting up and yelled very loadly to not stop the match. He was the only one that was not suprised to see her rise up. Of course, he knows she wants to change and this new knowledge of her earns his admiration and respect. He believes in her when everyone else does not and he wants to show them her guts and that she will fight until the end. He would do exactly the same.

Hinata rises up and keeps fighting, so she can prove to Neji that she can choose her own fate and change it. Naruto is proud of her.

Hinata then stands up against Neji and acts like the bigger person, and acknowledges the real problem. That it is Neji who is truly suffering. This enrages him and he goes into attack to kill her.

Hinata starts to cough up blood after the gentle fist damages her organs. Naruto screams out to her and is the first to rush over to her. He asks if she’s alright and holds her hand while she loses consciousness. That he reaches for her hand when he checks on her, shows just how strongly he bonded to her. (Kishi also has a thing for hand holding when it comes to romantic pairings *hint hint). He looks very worried for her as we can see from Hinata’s POV and stays with her until she loses conciousness completly.

Naruto doesn’t separate from Hinata until Neji addresses him, reminding him just the same words he told Hinata, a failure can never change.

Naruto gets extremly irritated by Neji’s provocation and Naruto says ”you want to test me?”. He then launches at him to beat him to a pulp. Just because he insulted him and thus also Hinata. Naruto was literally going to fight Neji right there and then just because of the way he treated Hinata, and remember this is just an official match, but Naruto reacts very passionatelly and personal to their fight that is technically none of his business. But he felt this personal bond with Hinata that made him react this way. Rock Lee stops Naruto just in time. He could also relate to Hinata since he’s also considered a failure like them, but for whatever reason Naruto is the one who gets much more angry and feels deeper, personal empathy and understanding for Hinata, he has a certain protective instinct regarding her. Which gets confirmed with his next action...

He remembers Hinata’s Ninja Way and bravery which amazed him, so he picks up her blood with his fingers, squeezes his hand and promises Hinata to defeat Neji for her under a vow of her own blood.

This is a very impressive gesture and speaks volume of how strongly Hinata reached to Naruto. This shows us Kishimoto’s intentions with Naruto and Hinata. Until now, Naruto has never looked so serious and passionate and made something so impressive, especially for what is essentially a side character. Something that he saw in Hinata triggered a protective instinct and made him trigger a very passionate gesture. My only conclusion is what Naruto felt during all this was the first signs of love. Love because he cared so much about her fight, love because he acknowledges her as a kindred spirit, love because he believed in her when nobody else did. This is all subconcious for him, but it is what made him react this way.

Maybe of topic here but when Naruto watched Sakura’s fight, he could not understand why she acted so aggresively with Ino, even due he has a similar rivalry with Sasuke. Kakashi even adresses this. Naruto just cant connect with Sakura. Meanwhile he has no problem understanding Hinata’s situation.

We can see here that his empathy for Hinata is what made him perform his blood vow. He formed a connection with Hinata and that connection was sealed with his blood vow. In Naruto we see how people are connected through blood, for example with the summoning jutsu. Naruto’s blood vow to Hinata was him sealing that connection between them. That will be all for this part. Here are the previous parts if you wanna read them.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

#naruhina #pro naruhina #naruto #hinata

[kill-for-cookies]

Whittaker! Mestre catches reader wearing / trying on some of his suits, they are comfortable, they smell like a master and they are warm, she loves to feel protected and hugged with them (since she thinks that master does not enjoy hugs, but she never asks). thank you thank you for the other cute request you made, I came here to ask for another one, of course if you don't mind.

😍😍😍🤩🤩

Thank you for this request and sorry for waiting so long. I really like your idea. That's so cute! And sure, I don't mind, your ideas are amazing! Love you💙

Suits you better

---------------------------------------------------

How great to spend an evening with a book in your hands! Diving in fascinating story, turning pages, lying on the most comfortable sofa in the console room. You were leaning on the armrest and bending your knees, on which laid a book.

It was some kind of novel about adventures in the future. You had enough adventures with the Master, but you wanted to know how normal people travelled. Not to say that you understood everything (after all, you are not from the 30th century), but it was pretty interesting.

Page 52... Page 53... Page 54... And bang! You jumped up on the couch at the deafening sound.It was like a thunder... No, it was just an angry Time Lady, ready to tear down and destroy everything in her path. Well, basically, it's the same thing... Who knows what is scarier? But one thing you knew for sure - at such moments it is better not to disturb her at all.

So you covered your face with the book, carefully peeking out from behind it and watching the blonde's actions. She beat the console loudly and with all her might, with hands and feet, causing the TARDIS to hum in displeasure. The Time Lady just rolled her eyes and turned away from the control panel in your direction, casting a glance at you. You immediately pretended that you were calmly reading a book all this time, not even paying attention to the loud sounds. Right now, the book was your only defense, your shield.

The Master moved in your direction and plopped down on the couch next to you. She was hunched over, her hands on her neck and a deep, irritated groan escaped her mouth. The sight of it made your heart ache in response and there was only one obsessive thought in your head that you should do something about it. To calm, to support, to help.

You drew your lower lip between your teeth and quietly closed the book, setting it down on the back of the couch. You took a sitting position, crossing your legs and slowly reached for her. Carefully, without any sudden movements, you put your small hands on her shoulders and began to gently knead them. You couldn't think of anything better to do than a massage. At least, it always helped you get rid of your anger and frustration.

Her shoulders were extremely tense, as if you were touching rocks. But over time, they began to slowly relax. Her eyebrows stopped being sharp daggers and a deep breath came out of her mouth. All the negative emotions and thoughts began to flow out of her body.

"I'm so sorry that the meeting went wrong" still working with your hands, you murmured softly, a little louder than a whisper, that you wouldn't spook the Master.

"You always know how to calm..." turning her face to you, the Time Lady faltered, her brow raised sharply as her gaze wandered over you. "Where did you get this?" she pointed to your clothes. The corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes glittered with mischief.

Your head sank down, looking at what you were wearing now. At first, you didn't understand what was wrong and then you realized. In days like this, when the Master wasn't around, you liked to wear her burgundy suit (which looked very good on her).

It was a hundred times better than all your clothes put together. It wasn't just about beauty, softness or comfort... More important was that it reminded you about this arrogant and dangerous Time Lady. In it, you felt like you were being huged by the Master.

Every day, every morning, your hand reached out to this suit somehow reflexively, without knowing why. Maybe it was because you felt protected, the Master would never let anyone hurt you with a finger. She was ready to destroy anyone if one hair fell from your head. Or maybe, well maybe, you're in love with her... But this is unlikely... At least, you tried to convince yourself.

"Um... Don't know... It was just in my closet..." rubbing your neck and shaking your head in denial, you made the most unperturbed face you were able to.

Although all your features were filled with embarrassment and the proof of this was your blushed cheeks. The Master just snorted at this and grinned. Her nose wrinkled, an eyebrow raised.

"Not just a thief, but also a liar..." you were greeted by a toothy smile.

The blonde moved closer and the air felt heavy. She smelled of coffee, orange and cinnamon. That wonderful, intoxicating smell filled your lungs, making all your senses a little foggy. It smelled exactly like the burgundy suit you were wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." you argued, frowning and looking away. Slight, barely visible smile appeared on your face.

"You don't want to talk, I get it, love" Time Lady's voice sank lower to a velvety, honey-soft tone.

Now the two of you were so close that your breath came together as if you were one person. Your eyes fixed on hers. It was just one of those moments when something important was about to happen...

You put your warm hands on blonde's slightly cold ones and used that as leverage to pull yourself closer. You quickly and sharply pressed your lips to hers. Let traces of her blood-red lipstick be. It was too wonderful than think about such trifles.

You didn't want to be separated from the Time Lady. It was probably the best thing that was ever happened to you. But your lungs were running out of oxygen, so you had to do it, disconnect from her.

Your chest rose high and often, and the warmth spread through it. Maybe it melted your heart... You looked lovingly into her beautiful hazel eyes, filled with softness, care and love.

And how could you not be in love with the Master in such amazing, but at the same time rare moments? There was only one possible answer to this question - no. She was always arrogant, brilliant and exceptional, but you loved her the most in such moments.

"Can I ask you a favor?" you decided to take advantage of such a good opportunity. You wanted to ask her something you never did. Besides, the kiss and the suit you were wearing gave you an extra courage.

"I don't know, you did commit a crime after all..." the blonde just shrugged, her lower lip pushed forward and soon a cocky half-smile appeared on her face. Well, two can play the game...

"Hey! I won't give you a massage next time" you protested. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned head away, looking at her sideways. Your eyes waited for the Time Lady's next move.

"Let's not be so touchy, love. I didn't say I didn't forgive you. So what do you want?" at her words, you turned back to her. "Hug me please" you asked, making pleading eyes, even your lips trembled a little. In short, your face was contorted with a plaintive expression, so the Master certainly couldn't refuse you.

"You know it doesn't work on me, right?" her grin widened. The blonde carefully studied your reaction, which almost immediately followed. You opened your mouth, trying to find words, but were interrupted. "I think, that could be arranged" your pupils were round and you blinked quickly, reflexively in surprise.

"So you are... Do you agree?" you barely found the strength to ask the Time Lady again.

"Hurry up before I change my mind" the Master only rolled her eyes at your reaction, but smiled.

You didn't waste a second - your arms reached out to her, wrapped around her and you finally hugged the Master, which you didn't really hope would ever happen in your life. In her turn, the blonde didn't expect such quick motion, so her hands hung at the sides of her body.

"Actually, this is the moment when you should hug back" you pointed out. At your words, her hands slowly went up. The blonde gently and lightly hugged you. Hugs weren't clearly on her daily list. "That's better..."

You immediately melted into this embrace, pressing against the curve of her neck. It was so nice. No, that's not the word... Protected. A real hug with the Master was better than being in her suit... Well, a little better. Just a little bit. The only thing you wanted right now was for it to last forever. And each of you wanted it. Only the Master's voice broke this magnificent moment:

"Wear this suit more often. It suits you better."

#doctor who #the master #whittaker!master #thirteenth doctor #doctor who roleswap #doctor who roleswap au #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master imagine #the master x reader #the master imagine #request #dw #dw imagine #roleswap au #Reader #reader insert #doctor who imagine

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 4

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

Member: Lee Juyeon

Genre: angst and smut i promise (how can i not write smut with this gif right)

A/N: idk if you guys read my A/Ns... but look for the ** in this chapter, and play the bonus track i’ve linked. i apologise in advance if it hurts... it’s going to be a long chapter, so sit back and relax

Taglist: @muvtharecca​

“you always try to hide the pain”

kevin is sitting opposite you in a 24-hour convenient store, the scent of kimchi flavoured instant noodles wafting through the air. the snow outside was only making this hot, late-night supper even more endearing as if it wasn't already on its own.

the chopsticks snap away from each other with bare minimum energy while you pull off the flap and greet the cloud of hot vapour.

the day concluded with kevin and the interviewer thanking juyeon, and they must've known something was wrong because you shook his hand without a word.

they've never seen you try so hard to force out a smile.

"go ahead and eat, kev," you jam your chopsticks into the nicely cooked noodles, shaking the strands apart. "do you need an invitation?"

kevin is accustomed to your work ethics; he knows you don't like to talk about work outside the studio or the office building.

so he deems it valid to ask when he decides that there was something more than "work" between you and the guest they had today.

"so, lee juyeon," kevin mirrors your movements, watching you in some corner of his eyes. "he's an ex-boyfriend?"

the food masks your need to throw something at kevin, and frankly, you weren't really in the mood to go against your kind-hearted colleague. not just that, you were spent from the day.

the vast amounts of strength you had to summon from the witch scratching your insides out was enough to drain you. it feels like you had to entertain more than a guest today, when you only had one.

any other day and it would've been an easy day.

but not when it is lee juyeon. not when he has his lips on yours in your studio. not when you still love him.

"you can talk to me if you need to, y/n. it sucks to see you like this, and we've been colleagues for two years."

the hot noodles leave a scalding sensation on your lips when you slurp it up, but instead, a sourness wraps itself around the nerves in your nose.

"for context, if our boss was in the studio, he would not have condoned your behaviour. you know that," leaning forward, kevin tries to meet your eyes.

"but he wasn't, so case closed."

he sighs, shaking his head gently as he takes his first mouth of instant noodles.

it is a few minutes of silence that brings you peace. every now and then, one of you slurps and kevin's lips began to pink with the heat and spicyness of the food.

yet, when kevin breaks the silence to return to the topic, it is both a relief from the tension and an added stress to the fact that you have no clue how to run anymore.

"i know he followed you into the storage room, did he do anything to you inside? are you alright?"

"i'm fine."

silence.

you look up through your lashes and see that kevin is slurping a lone strand of noodles extremely slowly, squinting his eyes at you and shaking his head.

"i think you should know you can't lie for whack."

a scoff runs your warm throat dry, and you shove another good mouth through your lips.

"i know he was talking about you in the interview, y/n. why are you denying a bad break up? most couples go through this. so what if he lost you to another man? he said he wasn't prioritising you over his work.”

kevin knows you are trying to avoid the topic and you weren’t one to be aggressive with him. 

he chooses to pry.

“from what i got from the interview, it sounds like he was the one in the wrong.”

sure, he started it. 

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

“any normal girlfriend would’ve been upset, and of course if there was another, better guy in the picture, i wouldn’t have blamed her for moving on. i wouldn’t blame you.”

but you didn’t move on, did you?

“i highly doubt any of that was your fault--”

your attention pulls to kevin from the bowl and lock eyes with him. 

“i slept with someone else, kev.”

the silence is deafening, only the jingle from the entrance of the store interrupting the still air between the two of you. 

“...while you were with--”

“yeah,” your eyes gravitate back downwards, and a frown gets cemented into your forehead. 

the food no longer looks edible; it looks more like a bunch of dead worms floating in a pool of blood. 

you hear kevin suck a deep breath through his nostrils as you push the bowl away, your appetite shrinking by the second and then it disappears completely like dust in the wind. 

“is it...” someone pays for a cup of coffee and leaves the store. “...safe to say that the two of you were already estranged when you did it?”

estranged. 

more like non-existent.

“it felt like we broke up and i didn’t know about it. i don’t know how great of an analogy or explanation that is, but i know that it felt like that,” you pause, because it feels like you were going to hurl out half the portion of noodles you had. “we were on edge for like... months. four, five months. it’s like his phone got thrown out into the middle of the pacific ocean and he never bothered to get a new one or at least save my number and i just...”

you look up from the bowl because your eyes were welling and your lungs were beginning to collapse in on themselves. there was a look of pity and sympathy in kevin’s eyes. 

his lips were pursed and brows slightly furrowed; he doesn’t know what to say and you don’t blame him. 

“the other guy was just there for me in that time of... vulnerability. i just let myself fall for that temptation.”

your colleague is stunned, but never does he once look at you like it was your fault. it was extremely out of character for you to crash and break down in front of him, and you were sure he could tell you were putting in effort to keep yourself composed. 

“sorry,” a tear falls without mercy, and you hurry to get rid of it, simply offering a weak laugh to hide your feelings. 

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you emotional.”

“it’s alright,” you shake your head and sit up straight, eyes looking to the fluorescent lights above and blinking away the layer of tears in your eyes. “saw this conversation coming anyway.”

kevin pushes out a tiny, bare smile by pursing his lips. 

you let kevin continue with his food because you couldn’t eat anymore, and your attention gravitates back to the outside world where the snow was gently falling onto the pavements. 

bright white lights reflected off the snow on the floor looking like crystals from afar, and you just can’t find enough strength to push the memory of juyeon out of your head. 

the gush of wind that greets your face would’ve been refreshing had you not just been on the verge of crumbling infront of kevin. 

he thanks the cashier behind you and follows you out onto the streets, pulling his beanie over his ears. he watches you close your eyes, snow falling into your lashes and your hair over the back of your coat. 

“i know it’s not in my place to say much, but if it’s anything i learnt from being in a relationship, it’s that you need to face whatever haunts you.”

his words sink into your skin like a cold blanket of truth, because you know it’s right. the tip of your nose numbs with the cold weather when you open your eyes and look at kevin, his presence alone enough to comfort you. 

there was probably no other person you’d be this comfortable talking to about the biggest mistake you made in your life. 

“i know.”

he nods, and turns to the left, expecting you to follow because you stay just about a ten minute walk from him.

but when he notices that you don’t budge from the spot you were standing on, and two passerbys were visibly confused with your lack of movement, kevin returns to your side and gives you a pat on the head. 

“call me if you need anything.”

like before, a nod shakes your head before you could process the movement, and kevin walks away, giving you one last look before he disappears around the corner of the building.

it is taxing to hit the button on the lift panel, watch the numbers on the display screen decrease number by second. 

it is overwhelming when the doors open, and snow falls off your shoulders when you stroll in, finger hovering over the button.

“i didn’t know i needed her until i lost her, and i lost her to another man. it was the biggest mistake then, and it’ll probably be the biggest mistake i’ll ever make.”

your lungs fill itself with a deep breath, the cold air piercing through your pores and nerves as the button lights up with a displeasing shade of red light. 

i’ll believe you this once, lee juyeon. 

we both found a chance to slit each other’s throats open and we both did. 

the gears of the lift doors grind open and a door along the corridor is wide open as someone walks in after pulling off his shoes. 

you step out without much thought, that is, until that person’s head sticks out beyond the door frame and the striped shirt is glaringly familiar to you. 

juyeon picks up his shoes and naturally, his eyes follow his line of movement. 

the eye contact seizes you in your footsteps, and it freezes juyeon the same. his back was slightly bent over, very obviously surprised that you were standing in the hallways of his residence. 

it takes him a few moments to process your face, your hands that were covered in gloves and the handbag you had dangling around your waist. 

your hair, lashes and brows were sprinkled with bits of snow; your grip around the straps of your handbag tight with tension. 

juyeon slowly resumes a proper standing position, each shoe hanging on each of his index and middle fingers as he blinks at you. 

he doesn’t say a word and the lift doors close behind you, but his door doesn’t when he turns and disappears into his apartment. 

just this once.

apologise, and you’re through.

he is not good for you and neither are you, for him.

his apartment is cozy; shoe rack, dining table on the right and a small kitchen beyond, living room. carpet, television, sofa, hallway to the private rooms.

you use your feet to get your boots off, carefully placing them by the shoe rack after dusting off the bits of snow from the wool outside the door. 

the apartment smells like juyeon and it makes you sick to your stomach when it haunts you like a dream you never woke up from; when it rips you apart all over again after five years. 

he walks into view from the hallway, arms crossed tightly across his chest and he looks at you like he was expecting something from you. 

just say what you need to say and go. 

you do not owe him anything. 

“are you here to gawk at my apartment like it’s a showroom or are you here because you wanted to do something?”

fool. 

it is surprisingly easy to contain the frustration now, because you were simply sick of it. there was no reason to remain annoyed with him, nor let him get to you all so easily when he was like this then; obviously he hasn’t changed that much. 

“i...” the neurons in your head struggle to piece the sentence together. “i came to apologise.”

kevin’s words repeat in your brain like a broken record when you look away, for juyeon was staring at you with slightly widened eyes now. he doesn’t even try to hide his surprise or shock -- or maybe he just couldn’t.

you apologising was probably the last thing he expected, yet you were here on your own initiative, spitting out words that he never thought he would hear. 

it requires a rather commendable amount of courage to look up back at juyeon again, his gaze tearing through you like a chainsaw through wood. 

“we had our differences and problems back then but i know it broke you when you found me... with sangyeon.”

you pause, thinking that he’d say something to piss you off or aggravate the situation, but his temples are tightened because he is hiding his feelings; his pain. 

“so... i’m sorry,” a pause. the muscles in your forehead contract and juyeon doesn’t move a single inch. “i don’t need you to apologise, because i don’t know what exactly happened... maybe something happened and i didn’t know but i know myself that i should not have slept with sangyeon, regardless the status of our relationship.”

at least say something, juyeon.

anything.

**  

a car honks outside, the snow getting heavier and falling like feathers of doves being shot down from the sky. the city lights outside the window were flickering with the snow blocking your view of them, but the still atmosphere was holding you by the neck; the cold temperature a knife at your throat. 

there was a kind of pain and trauma in his face that feels like paper cuts on your heart. you know very well he was playing that fateful day like a movie in his head, seeing you in bed with another man. 

you would’ve stopped him right there and then, tell him not to think about it, but that’s what you were here to apologise for anyway. 

gravity pulls your chin down to the ground with shame, your jaws clenching and your temples tightening under your beanie. the skin around your knuckles whiten with the amount of strength you were offering the straps of your handbag, 

a soft shuffle snaps you out of your blank, yet panicking mind that glued its eyes to the floor, and you watch juyeon’s feet with his socks on enter your field of vision. 

your lids squeeze shut, his voice rumbling through your nerves like an internal earthquake and you suddenly berate yourself for thinking this was a good idea.

“did you mean what you said today?”

his touch on your chin forces you out of your mental escape, your jaw being pulled upwards so you could meet his eyes.

i still love you, and i don’t want to break you again... so please don’t break me anymore.

it feels like all your motivation and confidence had drained into him through his finger under your chin, and if you weren’t already beating yourself up inside for saying that to him earlier today, you would’ve probably passed out. 

the layer of glistening tears in his eyes feels like boiling poison in your stomach, because the realisation of his truth only hits you now. 

but you don’t want to hear it.

the last time you were in love with him and he was in love with you, it was like pairing a matchstick with a wax candle: both eventually die out because of the other. 

denial washes all over you like waves during a thunderstorm in the form of an abrupt, shake of your head, even under his touch. it ached more than you liked it to have to deny the truth in what you said today, but you cannot break juyeon again.

“no, i--” your chin shifts out of his hold and your eyes dart away from his face. “i didn’t mean it--”

but didn’t you?

juyeon has your jaw in his hands again, lips cushioned against yours. 

it feels like a spear had been driven through your face when you taste his tears between your lips. 

it tastes like toxins and rotten eggs and saltwater and it makes you want to hurl; not because you hated it but because you hated how much it was hurting him.

“juyeon,” your hands push him away but he grabs both your wrists, the seizure halting you in your movements. 

“what are you so scared of?”

the question is like a dump of cold water on you, and you see nothing but remorse in his eyes. 

“...breaking you... it hurts me to know that i can, and i don’t want to do it anymore. i did it once, i don’t want to do it again.”

your voice cracks under the pressure and a tear rolls down his cheek. the urge to reach up and wipe it off his face was so intense, your hands started to tremble in his grip.

“i meant what i said during the interview today. and if you meant what you said, then it means there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

life has just shoved you off an edge, an edge that you were standing on after running away from juyeon.

only for you to fall off and into his arms again. 

he shoves his lips between yours, almost violently, when he pulls you forward by your wrists. 

he guides your arms around his shoulders and behind his neck, while his hands find your waist and rest on your lower back, keeping the length of your body close to his. 

your hair under your beanie loosens when he pulls it off, and the next to go was your handbag that he slides off your shoulder and lays it somewhere on the ground. 

don’t make me close one more door

it still doesn’t feel too far for no return, until he takes your hand and rests it on his cheek while he kisses you softly. his lips part and so do yours, instinctively, but he doesn’t force himself into your mouth. 

i don’t want to hurt anymore

the warmth from his palm over yours on his cheek melts you like the snow outside, and before you knew it, he pulls away, looking to see if you were going to turn your back on him and run.

stay in my arms if you dare

yet, the want to run is no longer in control. 

or must i imagine you there?

there was no need to say anything, because it was written all over his face and in his eyes. 

he slots his lips between yours again like puzzle pieces, this time feeling much more whole, much less in pain, much more in love; in love again.

the supposedly dead doves on the street writhes to life as a familiar fire in your chest lights up again. 

don’t walk away from me

both his hands cup your cheeks and your hands are gripping onto the material around his elbows when he starts walking you backwards. 

i have nothing 

a wall meets your back, sandwiching you between the cold concrete and the warmth that was emitting from the length of his body.

if i don’t have you

his scent fills your nostrils like flowers in a field and it is almost nauseating to have it so near to you. not only were you smelling it, you were tasting it, and having it in your grasp was extremely surreal.

you break the kiss first and look at the skin on his neck before finding the courage to look back up at him. 

there is a mild frown on his forehead, his palms still holding your face so gently, it feels like you were cushioned in feathers.

“juyeon...”

the name rolls off your tongue like a song lost in time, and juyeon simply angles his head downwards to meet your lips again. 

you must’ve been a fool to believe that five years was enough for you to forget about juyeon, not when you’ve spent nearly the same amount of time being his significant other. 

either that, or you were just never meant to escape juyeon’s life, nor rid him from yours. 

maybe now you understand why people do stupid things when they are in love, because they just don’t think it’s stupid. they do it because their heart propels them to do so; they do it because nobody can replace the feeling that this special someone can offer, that only this person can offer.

so when he has you cushioned cozily into the pillows of his bed and your coat and winter wear long gone somewhere, leaving you in just the first layer of clothes you have on, you realise what he’s trying to compensate.

you couldn’t tell if juyeon was just childishly bitter about the fact that you lost your virginity to another man, or that he was still in disbelief about how he treated you back then. 

one thing was for certain though, he is showering you with kisses and caresses that you would’ve otherwise not expected from juyeon. 

the whines and sighs pouring out between your lips sound like a soft lullaby and  he was revelling in the fact that he should’ve given this to you sooner. 

instinctively, your fingers find the rim of juyeon’s top and riles it up, running your skin over the warmth of his skin and smelling more of his cologne when the material brushes across your face as he removes it. 

he looks down at you and his gaze causes goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

they are loving and desperate for love. they are warm and cold with the memory of how you ended. they are full of desire and hungry for validation.

it doesn’t take him long to attach his lips to yours again once he’s done admiring the features on your face; features that he had lost for so long, he was worried he might forget them. 

as strange as it seemed, having him drag your clothes off you only to stop and stare at the shade of your skin makes you feel like you were truly exposed to him. it is alien and it makes you want to shrivel up under him, because he was not the person you slept with.

but before you could hide yourself away from him, he litters kisses all over your skin. your cleavage, your stomach. fingers brushing over the skin of your hips and thighs, encouraging your hand reaching down to look for his face.

when his cheek is brushed with your fingertips, he looks up through his lashes and it feels like this should’ve happened in place of sangyeon. 

the memory of sangyeon providing you the love and affection you needed engulfs you in flames and your chin tilts to the ceiling, silently begging the heavens to provide you enough strength to keep your tears in. 

juyeon, reading your body language, reaches to his nightstand and pulls out a black sash, something that looked like it belonged to his costume when you saw him at the club two weeks ago. 

“hey,” he leans forward and gives you a peck on the lips. pulling you upwards, he wraps his arm around your waist as he sits down. the position confuses you for awhile, until he pulls you onto his lap and lets you sit on his thighs. 

looking down at him while feeling the warmth of his legs under your rear is slightly unsettling; it has been way too long. 

“me saying sorry won’t cut it,” he slides the sash into your hands and brings them up to his face. “so i’m letting you do whatever you want.”

you decide that lee juyeon has lost his mind when he guides your hands and ties the sash around his eyes.

a frown draws itself into your forehead before you realise he can’t see your expression. 

your lips part in a bid to protest, to ask if he’s lost his fucking mind; but juyeon grabs your wrists and plants kisses into your palms.

your stomach is churning and your eyes are tearing up all over again when he starts trailing them down the inner side of your wrists and forearms. the intimacy of this entire ordeal draws a high on your consciousness, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips when he pulls away.

if this is his way of earning validation, then you have no authority to keep him from being validated. 

your palms press flat against his shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he’s lying down on the mattress with your knees straddling the sides of his hips. 

the scent that you remember wafting through your nose for so long, so long ago is strongest around his neck. fragile memory invites you to that very spot, dipping your nose into his skin and attaching your lips to the spot under where his jaw led up to his ear.

the heavy breathing from his inflated nostrils already sounds like frustration, and it begins to hurt in your chest that juyeon is punishing himself.

he’s letting you do it only because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

your fingers replace the spot where your lips were, and circles of innocent pain draws themselves into his skin. 

his adam’s apple bobs up and down when he gulps, and you try to contemplate your next move. 

it shouldn’t be this difficult.

it really shouldn’t. 

not when he deserves to suffer for what he did.

but you were the one who slept with someone else.

frustration builds up inside you like a pressure flask, or a volcano for that matter. 

juyeon and his affection were the only things you ever wanted.

punishing him would be as good as punishing yourself. even if it was valid, it was, unfortunately, driving a nail through your spine. 

it hurt to let the realisation of his self-punishment sink in. 

“juyeon,” you pull off the blindfold and shake your head at him. “i can’t.”

a muscle in his cheek twitches, and his bare chest heaving up and down under your palms allows you to feel his heartbeat. 

what was this? some dumb game of chess? were you too dumb to let up so easily or was juyeon just too petty about what happened five years ago? it feels like a game of push and pull that was never going to end.

that is, until juyeon opens his mouth. 

“i’m sorry.” 

your eyes dart around his, frantically searching for any sign of pretence or inauthenticity. 

but you are shocked when you see sincerity, and nothing but him wanting to prove himself. 

your heart is racing and thumping so hard, you were sure juyeon could hear it.

it feels like the weight of the world has crashed down on you, at the same time the heavens finally ridding you of the witch that has been peeling your insides and throwing them out of your body in the form of tears. 

the gravity of the apology sinks into you too soon, because you shove your lips between his before you could even process your own actions. 

digging his fingers into your thighs, he pushes you back so you were lying down again, never once breaking the kiss.

you wonder if you were giving in too easily when he slips his tongue through your lips without much effort, but feeling his heart rush against yours is a sensation to be reckoned with.

it does not feel real. it does not feel like you deserve it.

the friction of your pants being pulled off your thighs earns your attention, but he is drinking your moans and feeling you writhe under him. 

the cool air followed by a thud tells you that your pants are on the floor, leaving you in your lingerie and him in his pants. so your fingers run across his biceps and reach south, slightly aggressively undoing his belt. 

sparks fly when juyeon smiles into the kiss. 

oh, how much i missed you. 

he shifts around in a bid to get rid of his pants, breaking the kiss in the process. 

panting and trying to catch your breath from the excessive making out, juyeon slides his arm under you and flips you over carefully.

he doesn’t remove your bra, and maybe it was because he wanted to know he wasn’t doing this because he wanted sex, the way you accused him of it two weeks ago. 

chills run down your spine with every instant his lips are on the skin of your back, and then your inner thighs and you find yourself shaking under him.

not because you were scared, but because this was right. 

the mattress around your legs shift, a finger trails the skin near your core and the air meets your needy wetness you didn’t even realise was becoming prominent. 

the bedsheet gets crumpled in your hands when he pulls it off, lifting your legs for you to remove it. 

then his palms are gripping the back of your thighs and his tongue meets your entrance. 

a hiss runs through your teeth and you shut your eyes.

the bliss is overwhelming, and your entire body was tremoring from the sensation of him dipping his tongue into you. 

his fingers find your sensitive nub, making you pool more for him to lap up. 

just when it becomes too unbearable, he removes himself from your south. burying your face into the pillow, one of his hands grips the flesh of your rear.

it feels like a warm blanket when he leans down, chest against your back and his left arm supporting his weight next to your ear. “tell me if it hurts.”

he greets you at your entrance, prodding slightly and driving inappropriate thoughts into your head as if you weren’t already halfway there. 

so you nod, and he plants a kiss on your shoulder as he pushes into you. 

your temples tighten with the pain when you feel him stretching out your walls, your fingers gripping onto the bedsheet like you were strangling someone. 

his right arm is holding your stomach under you, his lips still leaving lingering dollops of love and care on your shoulders. 

he waits until the look of pain has vanished, and the thrusts start out light because you were still adjusting to him. 

but it doesn’t take long for the small winces of pain to turn into gentle mewls and moans of pleasure. 

you turn and bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle out your own desperation. 

so it is a surprise when juyeon abruptly pulls out and flips you over on your back, and you provide him one extremely annoyed sigh. 

he smirks at you, and you don’t mind it one bit. 

“nothing to be ashamed of.”

he wraps his legs around his hips as he looms over you, arms on either side of your head against the mattress. the combination of him pushing into you and pressing his lips against yours is of immense bliss and satisfaction.

you have all of him now, and this was meant to be. 

hips hips roll against yours instead of rampant thrusting, so that he could maintain his lips on yours. he was careful and meticulous and he wants you to know that he still loves you.

if that is what he’s doing, he’s doing a damn good job at it.

his hips are grinding against your sensitive nub and the rolling was maximising the friction of his length inside you, so it doesn’t take much for him to help you reach your high. 

“juyeon--”

“i know,” he whispers to you, lips just about an inch away from yours when his eyes dig into your half-hooded ones.

you expected your body to regurgitate all the memories of sangyeon, but nothing comes to mind.

the only person in your head is juyeon, and you had absolutely no problem with it.

he helps you reach your high and your back archs off the mattress as he drinks the pleasure spewing out your throat. 

he pulls out, just after he helps you ride it out, and he releases on your stomach and your thighs with sweat sticking his gelled hair to his forehead. 

your arms slide under his pillows and your chest heaves from the intimacy. it takes you awhile to realise you are staring at his chest and collarbones and face before he crawls back towards you.

he angles his head to kiss you again, this time willingly smiling into the act of affection. 

“does this mean you accept my apology?”

you suck your lips between your teeth when he pulls away, his hands brushing your hair out of your face and stroking your cheek.

“yes,” you nod subtly. “but only if you clean your mess off me.”

juyeon jabs the inner side of his cheek with tongue and looks away for a second.

he leans forward once more, kissing you on the forehead this time. 

“i love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued (final)

#juyeon smut #lee juyeon #juyeon #the boyz #the boyz lee juyeon #the boyz smut #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagine #help #this was such a long chapt

[walkerwords]

“Hear No Evil” Negan X Deaf!F!Reader

Word Count: 1768

Negan x Deaf!Reader

Summary: You are deaf in the apocalypse and you are working on your tech when Negan and Carl pay you a visit. Negan takes a bit of interest in you, but you could care less and just gives him what he need and ignores everything else. However, it seems he kind of likes it. 

Warning: nothing

Song I Wrote To: “Marie Laveau” by Merci Raines

Note: I am not deaf myself, but i have a good friend who is and helped me out with this one. This is just something I wrote while I was waiting for my dinner to cook. not my favourite, but here we are. There probably won’t be a second part.

------

You were bent over an old sprinkler timer in your makeshift workshop in your garage.

You were trying to figure out a way to re-purpose the device to be a light timer so those on guard wouldn’t need to manually turn on the spotlights while on late-night watches. Michonne had mentioned the Governor having something similar at Woodbury and so when you brought the idea to Rick, he trusted you to be the one to figure it all out. 

Lately, Rick had been giving you more and more tasks that appealed to the skills you had acquired before the Apocalypse. Having a Masters in Engineering was something that you took a lot of pride in and you were definitely a coveted member of Alexandria because of it. Sure, there were people like Daryl and Rosita who knew their way around mechanics and weaponry, but you were well-skilled in all aspects of your field. You could fix an engine, rewire a house, and even tune-up the solar panels all before a lunch break. It was something that had made you quite essential in the new world.

However, while you were an asset, you still had to be careful around new people Alexandria would bring in out work with. Being born deaf was not something you expected to ever be a challenge until the Dead began walking. You had gone through extensive speech therapy as a child and well into your late teens. You were fluent in sign language and could read lips. Your cochlear implant worked very well, that is until your battery was damaged in a walker attack four months prior and your world was completely silent since. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was frustrating and you just had to be even more vigilant on runs. 

When you had met Rick shortly after his group had been run off the Greene family farm, the former sheriff was surprised that you were even alive. He doubted you for a long time when you joined their group. Rick was always worried that you wouldn’t hear when Walkers were around or that you would be too much of a risk on runs, but every time they had run into trouble, you had proved him wrong. 

You were an excellent shot, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to improvised technology. You had managed to set up a night vision camera when they waited out the cannibals from Terminus. That alone had saved Michonne’s life when one had tried to sneak up on her. After that, Rick didn’t question you again.

Then, when you returned home after a run with Sasha and your hearing was once again gone completely, Rick had slipped back into old habits. You were essentially on desk duty now. The only action you had seen since being at the Alexandria Safe Zone was when you had helped dispatch the Wolves and protected Tara and Denise as they worked to save Carl the night the herd invaded the town. Since then, it had been all wires and buttons for you.

You hadn’t held any of that against Rick, but when Maggie was sick and they were ambushed by the Saviors, you were furious. Your father had been a sniper. You knew how to move silently and how to handle yourself. You knew that they had been outnumbered the night the man known as Negan had smashed in Glenn and Abraham’s heads. There was no way any of them could have fought off all the Saviors, but you couldn’t help but think if you had been nearby with your rifle, you could have at least killed a few. Maybe even Negan himself. 

However, you didn’t really know what to think about the man with the baseball bat. You hadn’t seen him and you didn’t know him. What you did know was that he was a murderer who killed two people you cared about and the others were terrified of him. The only thought that kept you going through this new reality of being under the Sanctuary's thumb was that before they met Negan, Rick Grimes was the one everyone was scared of. 

You still believed that was true. 

You blinked a few times, trying to refocus on your work when a vibration rattled your desk, gaining your attention. You turned towards the open garage door to see Carl Grimes set down a wrench he had used to knock against the pipes. He waved at you with a warning look in his eye. You nodded to him and then noticed the large man looming behind the teenager. He was tall with broad shoulders and a scruffy beard. His height alone was intimidating, but the way he carried himself reminded you of horrid men you had met on the road and it sent a chill down your spine. 

Though, it was what was in his hand that made you freeze. A baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire hung loosely in his grip. Your jaw tightened as you slowly stood from your stool, dropping your work completely and raising your hands in front of you. Looking back to Carl, you placed your fingertips to your temple and then pulled it away, folding down your three center fingers. The sign for “why?” 

“(Y/N),” Carl began, signing as he spoke. “The Saviors are here for a pick up,” he explained. Negan was watching Carl’s hands in confusion before it clicked and you nearly gagged at the smile of pleasure that appeared on the killer’s face. 

“What do you want?” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t too scratchy today. You hadn’t spoken in a few days. Most of your original group knew enough ASL to talk to you. Daryl, Carl, and Rick were near fluent and Michonne and Maggie were the next best. The only other person who had been nearly as perfect as you were was Beth who had a deaf best friend growing up. Days like these were when you missed the younger Greene sister the most. 

“Do you have those extra walkie batteries?” Carl asked. you looked between Carl and Negan, your hands clenching. you wanted to yell at Carl, send your hands flying faster than he would probably understand, but you knew it was unwise to show too much emotion in front of Negan. Last thing you wanted to do was fuel his rage or whatever he was exuding at the moment. So you sighed and walked to the other side of your workshop. Carl waited by the door, but Negan made his way around the garage, picking up odds and ends. You kept him in your view from the corner of your eye, making sure he didn’t break anything too valuable.

Hauling a box from behind a half-finished motorcycle you were working on for Jesus, you dug around for what Carl had asked for. You drew four spare batteries and kicked the box back into it’s crevice. You marched over to the kid and nearly slammed the batteries into his chest. “Anything else?” you asked. 

Negan then appeared once again. His back was turned to you, so you missed what he said, but Carl sighed and slipped the batteries into his bag so he could get his hands free. He then gestured to you. “(Y/N), this is N-E-G-A-N,” he fingered spelled, “Negan this is (Y/N),” he introduced gesturing to Negan once again. “She’s our engineer.” Negan then fully turned to you and appraised her. 

“A deaf engineer? There’s a joke in there somewhere,” he said with a twisted smile. You gritted your teeth.

“Funny,” you quipped, “is that why you interrupted my work, to make stupid jokes that I’ve heard my whole life?” Negan seemed surprised at your answer. He narrowed his eyes at you and then looked back to Carl. 

“She can read lips,” Carl explained and Negan almost looked impressed. 

“So, you can spy on conversations from a long ways away?” Negan asked, nearly vibrating with excitement. you crossed your arms, sitting into one hip. 

“I’m deaf, not superhuman,” you said, “now if that’s all, I need to finish my work.” Carl went to leave when Negan rested a hand on the kid’s shoulder, halting him. 

“Well, it looks like someone has already made their mind up about me, hey, kid?” Negan said, still grinning at you. 

“That tends to happen when you murder my friends,” you said, not backing down. Negan laughed and ran a hand over his face. 

“You know what? I like you,” Negan said. 

“Oh great, lucky me,” you said as you turned your back on both of them. Negan went to say something else until he realized it would be futile. You picked up your jacket and slung it around your shoulders. When you turned back to Carl he was looking at you with worry as he usually did when he could tell you were getting pissed. You then hooked your finger toward him in a question mark and then tapped your thumb to your forehead, your palm splayed wide. Dad? 

“He’s with Judith, Olivia had to go help pack up the pantry,” Carl said.

“Thanks,” you said as you moved past the two men who had invaded your space. However, Negan wasn’t done and grabbed your arm. Carl went to stop him when you nearly jumped back three feet, snatching back your arm, your eyes wide and alarmed. Carl was infront of you in a second, explaining that you were okay, not bothering to speak, only moving his hands. You tracked the signs and calmed down slightly. Carl then turned to look at a surprised Negan, keeping his hands visible to you. 

“Grabbing deaf people when they’re not expecting it while living in a world where the Dead walk around trying to eat people isn’t the most comfortable thing,” Carl explained, but it didn’t matter because you were already heading away from them, your hand on your knife. Carl watched as you sped towards his house, looking for Rick. 

“So she actually can’t hear,” Negan said, surprised. Carl looked at him, his one eyes narrowed. 

“You thought she was faking it?”

“She has the implant,” Negan said, gesturing to his own head. 

“Her battery got damaged a few months back. She could hear pretty well from the day I met her until it got broken. We haven’t been able to find a replacement for it yet. That also means she’s not the friendliest of people right now, especially to strangers.”

“I don’t blame her,” Negan grinned, “but you know what? I like her!”

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead #twd imagines #twd imagine #twd season 7 #negan imagine #reader x negan #reader insert #deafreader #au #carl grimes

[marshthat]

My Jedi master Eeth Koth headcanons!

Eeth Koth has been my comfort charcter for quite a long time, and still is now (and I hope still will be in the future also, bc I cant imagine me existing without my love for Eeth anymore).

So, I've decided to share my most prominent master Koth headcanons that I've accumulated at this point

As promised, I'm posting only general ones, without any specific implied pairings or other relationships!

note: (due not so much info about Eeth in Canon and Legends (unforgivably little actually), maaaaybe I'm projecting some of my own mental stuff on him, but eh, this is unevitable I guess :)

Have fun reading these!

1. Change of the profile

In his youth, Eeth was a Jedi Guardian, a.k.a "Jedi-on-the-front-line", and carried a blue lightsaber. But after the death of his master, followed by him joining the High Council, Eeth calmed down his inner rambo and changed his profile to a Jedi Consular. And so he chose a path of a diplomat, built a green lightsaber (with a hilt very similar to his dead master's one, as a remembrance) and eventually became famous in the Jedi Order exactly for his ability to resolve conflicts peacefully. (that's why no big missions on his part before the Clone Wars era apart from his participation in the Yinchorri incident)

2. The acceptance issue

Eeth pays a lot of attention to his appearance: carefully brushes his hair, makes sure his clothing is perfect, and so on.

Some consider this a simple whim, but in fact this will to have an ideal appearance is a consequence of some issues Koth now has because of his difficult childhood. Due to the fact that Eeth spent his first four years as a ragged orphan in the filthy slums of Nar Shaddaa, he sometimes feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in such a clean and nice place as the Coruscant Jedi Temple. (And the fact that his membership in the Order at first caused a lot of controversy among the Council masters only worsened this fear)

That is why Eeth tries his best to always look as perfect as possible - to be suitable for the beauty of the Temple and to not feel himself a stranger in its walls.

3. Long meditation hours and self-reflecting

He does meditate on his issues quite often, in order to get rid of every irrational fear he has, like the one described in the previous headcanon. Usually he does that in the evening, after all the tasks are completed - he gives himself time to reflect on what happened during the day, what he did and said and how the others reacted. This does help, but still some thorns can be very hard to get out of his hearts. His favourite meditation place is his own quarters in the Temple, where he can have a nice view on the evening/night Coruscant, which is somehow more relaxing to him than the gardens in the Room of Thousand Fountains.

4. A little peek into the apartment

Eeth’s master-quarters in the Temple are decorated with effort and thought. The most significant part are the long heavy thick and soft curtains, that, if closed, take all the light in the room away, leaving the nice pleasant semidarkness atmoshphere. Also Eeth has a lot of various cushions around the whole apartment, along with an enormous supply of aroma candles! 

5. The tragedy of the Padawan

Eeth's first and only Padawan learner was Sharad Hett.

Sharad's will to quit the Order deeply hurt Eeth, even if he didn't say that out loud, as he put a lot of effort and dedication in his promise to be the best master possible for Sharad. Also he lowkey agreed with the accusations of other masters telling him he was responsible for Sharad's departure because Koth failed as a teacher - so he does feel himself guilty of failing both Sharad and the Order.

After the Hett's incident, he actually vowed to himself not to take any more Padawan learners, so as not to let anyone's expectations down again. (And, like master Saesee Tiin, chose to put his efforts into other fields rather then teaching)

(these panels still hurt me somehow qwq 

Sharad made Eeth cry, for kriffs sake!)

6. But he's still very friendly to kids

Despite the unpleasant exprienece with his own Padawan, he did let go of his initial frustration and now he is quite happy to give younglings and young padawans some general lessons! Also sometimes he takes other masters' students to group trainings or supervises them during the Trials of Knighthood. And young Jedi do love master Koth a lot - because he's soft and very patient, and does allow them some liberties :)

7. The social butterfly

Eeth is a "social butterfly" or a "caretaker" (ESFJ mbti-type)

He is used to being among a large number of people, but even though it seems that he gathers these people around him, in fact this is not true - his natural charm and outgoing personality allow him to easily make new acquaintances, interact with friends and encourage conversations, but he more follows his more assertive companions, adapts his behavior and words to them in order to create the most comfortable atmosphere possible, than directs them himself.

In other words, he offers the fun, but enjoys more the others' reactions to it, than the fun itself!

8. Sweet tooth!

Eeth LOVES sweet things! He generally likes all sorts of sweets, starting with various desserts and finishing with sugary tropic fruits. (Gaining weight? Naaah, the zabraks physiology allows him to consume a lot of food because of the higher metabolism due to the zabraks having two hearts. And also he does a lot of physical exercise in the training halls. So it's not a problem at all!)

9. And he is sweet himself too

This love for sugary things is not only for sweet treats actually, but also for the scents of cosmetics too! (And he does use a lot of that stuff). That is why Eeth usually smells of something nice, either caramel, or vanilla, or fruity etc.

This is often favorited by his colleagues on the Council, who definitely enjoy the pleasant aroma Eeth always brings with him to the Council meetings.

10. Energy drinks!

He got badly used to them during the Clone Wars era, because he really needed an additional energy resource when staying up all night brushing through various diplomatic documents and strategy plans. Caf wasn't much of a help because it just turned out to be not strong enough for the zabrak, so he eventually replaced it with cheap but more effective sweet energy drinks. It doesn't really matter to him which drinks to buy exactly, but the meiloorun-flavoured ones are among his favourites.

11. Form of lightsaber combat

Form III - Soresu!

I actually did a separate essay analyzing why Eeth’s form of combat is definitely Soresu, but if keeping brief: he uses Soresu mixed with some Ataru moves. Ataru was his initial style, advised by his master due to Eeth’s small complexion and natural agility & flexibility, but after changing his Jedi profile to a Consular he also adopted the main Consulars’ style - Soresu (usually called “the diplomat style”, “the most peaceful among the seven'' etc.). Koth’s Soresu moves can clearly be seen in the “Grievous Intrigue” episode in particular. Also Koth’s stance in the "Intrigue" is different from the famous Kenobi's "point-fingers" thingy simply because Eeth's pose is not an opening Soresu stance, but the brace-ready stance, which in Soresu is described as “having much in common with the "Ataru guard," with the hilt held at waist height on the dominant side in a two-handed grip for greater control, extended vertically upwards”

12. The double-bladed saber

Eeth wields a double-bladed saber almost as well as a regular one.

And in fact, it was Darth Maul who has inspired Eeth to try this kind of a weapon - after the High Council sent him to lead the investigation on the question of a zabrak sith on Naboo in 32 bby, he got genuinely interested in the possible perks of two blades in his Soresu and eventually mastered the double-bladed saber on quite a level. But he still sees this only as an interesting training option, but nothing more. So the double-bladed saber stays in the Temple and is used only in the Training Halls, but never on the battlefield.

13. An earring (yes, in the singular form)

Eeth has one of his ears pierced (right one), and he actually has several different earrings, mostly simple, like basic metal rings, which he usually picks every morning according to his mood. But to be honest, this earring thing is purely only for himself - because you can’t really see his ears under his usual three-ponytails hairstyle.

Though, he did abandon wearing earrings during the Clone Wars era - because since the war began and the potentially dangerous missions became more frequent, it wasn’t really a right place and time for such things, especially knowing that the Separatists can use some specific traps (like the ones they used to magnetize Jedi lightsabers on Lola-Sayu). The prospect of losing the whole ear due to such a trap is not the most pleasant one indeed.

14. HUGS (and other tactile activities)

Eeth very very VERY much loves hugs!

And for him, tactile contacts are more than just a way to feel comfortable - for him it's a vital part of the whole communication process. This issue dates back to his master, Kosul Ayada, who was a herglic (a race that is actually not very good at speaking Galactic Basic), and therefore helped himself with gestures and body language. And spending a lot of time around master Ayada, Eeth also got used to supporting his verbal dialogue by body language and tactile contact.

That is why while speaking Eeth actively gestures, grabs the other's hands, squeezes shoulders etc. And the hugs are his way to express sympathy and also to feel safe and appreciated!

15. Driving skills

Master Koth can drive, and actually quite well. And by driving I mean not spaceships, but smaller things that stay on land, like speeders.

And because he is a diplomat who often attends various meetings with senators and ambassadors, he also has a personal speeder, allocated to him by the Order for the ease of attending senator events and other diplomatic ocasions.

(But he does use it for other personal purposes too, because why not to, if there is an opportunity)))

(A panel of Eeth casually driving a speeder like a damn pro is one of my fav Eeth comics crumbs,,,,,,)

16. Singing

Eeth enjoys singing! But he usually keeps this thing to himself, making the quiet manthra-like singing a part of his meditative prep - it helps him to settle down his tangly thoughts a bit and tune his mind and body for the actual meditation.

(the hc was inspired by Hassani Shapi’s singing in one of his films, because Shapi’s voice is really beautiful and I’m sad they didn’t give him even a single line in the Phantom Menace when filming Koth’s Council scene)

17. Space soap operas...? (not so serious, sometimes treated as crack, but sometimes not)

Koth (secretly) likes soap operas on the late-night HoloNet, and often stays up to watch a new episode of something before going to bed. His favourite series is called “Lekkus of love” (my imaginary in-universe show I usually use in my sw writings) and it's about a twi’lek girl’s life, filmed in the style of our “Magnificent Century”, with lots of romantic intrigues and twists.

18. LOTS of feelings

Referencing the previous one - Eeth is very emotional, actually! Yes, he’s a Jedi and he knows how to keep his mind clear, but he’s still sensitive enough to actually cry over sad episodes of "Lekkus…" because “Poor Ai’sha, she worked so hard to get her man’s attention, but he still chose that togruta girl? This is outrageous, this is unfair! :ccc”

Also this can be in fact explained biologically. He's a zabrak, and zabraks are supposed to have a hot, blazing, higly-emotional nature (to match their home planet, Iridonia, wich is also boiling with acid seas and all that - otherwise they won't survive)

19. Podracing as a favourite sport

Eeth enjoys podracing. He first got into it back on Nar Shaddaa, when he heard a lot about racing and stuff from smugglers and bounty hunters (and at that time he even dreamed of becoming a cool podracer - but that was of course before he was taken to the Temple).

Now he doesn't dream of podracing that much, but still can and actually does enjoy watching annual championships via HoloNet. He also tries to keep in touch with the latest news in the podracing world (that interest he shares with the young Anakin Skywalker, and they do sometimes occasionally discuss podracing when they both have free time)

20. Horns

Eeth doesn’t really trust droids with trimming his horns, so he usually does that by himself, in the freshener, and that always takes a while. Also unlike a lot of male iridonian zabraks, who prefer to keep the tips of their horns comparatively sharp as a sign of their brutality and masculinity, Eeth chooses to make the tips humbly rounded and smoothed.

21. A pet? (Also not so serious - but sometimes it IS the most serious hc!)

Eeth has a pet loth-cat! The loth-cat is a she-cat, and she's big, fluffy and always on her own mind. Agen Kolar sometimes points out that the loth-cat is very similar to her owner in a lot of little things, like the way the cat purrs when being hugged and how she is obsessed with being clean and ideal too.

The loth-cat is also a bit jealous of her owner’s attention, so she will every time make herself comfortable on his knees when Eeth is meditating or working with documents to show that this is HER man. (especially when smb comes over to Eeth’s apartment - that's the case when she just NEEDS to state who’s the real boss here).

22. Participation in the first battle of Geonosis

I headcanon that Eeth was not directly on the Petranaki Arena actually during the first battle of Geonosis in the AOTC. Since he's not on-screen in that symbolic circle of survivors but is still stated as a participant, I assume that instead of being a part of the main group, Eeth joined Yoda on his trip to Kamino. Maybe not directly on the planet but still somewhere there, helping to gather clone legions to guide them to Geonosis.

(p.s. I know that Eeth's on-screen absence is because of Shapi being replaced with another actor and the new character turning out not at all alike to TPM Koth, but this little hc actually kinda fixes the hole without ruining anything…?))

#star wars #star wars expanded universe #star wars legends #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #eeth koth #sharad hett #kosul ayada #star wars headcanons #ihonestly I can talk about Eeth for hours and days and month #Eeth is the best cinnamon bun in the Jedi Order

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Quick outline of the changes in Golden Kamuy Vol 24

Here is a general outline of the more relevant changes that take place in Vol 24 compared to the magazine. Note that as usual I won’t dig into minor changes or redraws unless they seem to be relevant for the plot or characterization (or I really like them).

So now let’s start.

WARNING: I hadn’t had the chance to check dialogues yet. I’ll probably do it during Christmas holidays. If there are changes in them that are relevant I’ll update this post as soon as I can.

We spend a moment on the cover, which, like the previous, shows us a character who has never appeared on a cover before and who’s also one of my fave, our charming Roger... I mean Kikuta Mokutarou.

It’s an action scene in which he’s making good use of his beloved Nagant while wearing Toni’s scarf... and he’s not alone on this cover.

Ariko is also with him, ready to fire at his opponent. The background is Sapporo as we can recognize the building as appearing in chap 232 when the characters are in Sapporo.

Really, I love this cover and I was hoping so bad to have a Kikuta cover...

Anyway this is our updated list of covers.

Noda please, give us a Boutarou cover as well!

We then move to the colour page.

It’s the image with Tsukishima and Koito that was used as a cover for chap 251. It’s a fitting image considering this volume starts with the chapter in which the cooperation between Tsukishima and Koito began.

A colour cover that was in the chapters included in this volume and that instead isn’t shown is the one of chap 234.

Maybe Noda will use it later.

No summaries for this volume. Pity.

This volume counts 9 chapters only and changes are pretty tame but, as usual there are additions of extra pages and panels to expand scenes that already were in the magazine version so we can better understand what’s going on and of scenes that are redrawn, either to improve their quality, correct mistakes or add to the plot.

Note I’m not going to add them all but only those which are plot relevant (or that I particularly like). Also no scanlations this time as the changes aren’t so characterization or plot relevant you’ll need to read a scanlation to get what’s going on. I’ll add a dialogue explanation though. Keep in mind I might be wrong.

Let’s start with chap 232.

We start with a new opening page for the chapter in which the box says we’re at Asirpa’s grandmother’s house near Otaru and we’re shown that Tanigaki is next to Inkarmat.

As many already know Noda has enlarged Tanigaki’s neck as he watched Osoma and changed a little his expression so, although I know Sensei pays a lot of attention in improving Tanigaki, I won’t show you that.

A line is added to Tsukishima’s dialogue. Now in addition to saying that it might be that Tsurumi doesn’t have a true goal he adds that it might be a lie that Tsurumi is acting for the sake of the dead comrades and for the prosperity of Japan.

Tsukishima’s memory of Tsurumi having finger bones now is enlarged and that shows clearly Tsurumi’s naked feet.

Naked feet had been used to foreshadow the death of a character so is this meant to hint at how Tsurumi too will die?

As everyone knows I’m partial for Ogata I’ll show him adjusting his bandages. I wonder, does he have the glass eye already and he’s trying to get adjusted to it?

Asirpa and Boutarou’ hair had been redrawn, which makes them better but it’s nothing big.

We move to chap 233.

After Ueji manages to disappear noda added more dialogue between Sugimoto, Shiraishi and Asirpa.

Sugimoto asks for confirmation that the boss they met was called Wakayama and Shiraishi asks Asirpa if she’s certain that guy said they would never be able to find the gold. Asirpa says that’s what it sounded like and Shiraishi asks what they will do now, wondering if they should go after the candy seller or continue to pursue the pirate. Sugimoto thinks he should have stripped the candy seller and Asirpa wonders if maybe she heard wrong.

Noda also expanded the scene with Boutarou and the old Ainu. Now Boutarou is no more heavily shaded at the start and his men are more active.

Pirate Boutarou’s main henchman (子分 ‘Kobun’) now has a name, Gontō Kōjirō (權堂 公二郎は) and he’s better drawn. 

The old Ainu says Boutarou won’t find the gold because his sons also went looking for it but it wasn’t anywhere.

Those are very good improvements, if you ask me.

Chap 234...

...continues the tradition of better drawing Boutarou’s hair (which are also often drawn longer than previously) and also gives him a better pose.

The postman also has a name now he is Nozawa Niheiji (野沢 仁平治).

Shiraishi is definitely more worried when he meets Boutarou.

...but Boutarou looks even happier to meet him, while his reaction catches the captain’s attention.

The sailors are better drawn and there’s even a new small panel of a sailor trying to catch Sugimoto’s rifle.

Sugimoto gets an extra page in which he’s shown throwing the sailor off the boat...

...and then some more panels as he fights the other sailor as well.

Really Noda is so good at drawing fighting scenes...

He also expanded the scene of Boutarou talking to Shiraishi about Sugimoto.

...and redrew Gontou with the other henchmen, who’re shown wet because they too had previously ended up in the water.

Really, a lot of additions for this chapter and I love how Noda tried giving the henchmen some characterization now, despite them being merely plot devices.

We continue with chap 235.

I’ll say in the cover Noda better drew the water. It’s not terribly relevant though, so I’m not showing it, i just love the man for the care in this details.

Better image of best boy Shiraishi...

...but there are also a lot of images that are better drawn.

The order of the panels is switched a little as in the magazine the bandits would knock at the door, then we would see Shiraishi praying the boat would hurry then we’ll go back to Asirpa and the postman.

In the volume first we see Shiraishi and Sugimoto praying the boat would hurry then we go to the bandits knocking and then to Asirpa and the postman, with the scene mostly redrawn.

Noda actually put a lot of care in redrawing the postman who now to me look even more like Clint Eastwood.

The shooting fight also gets better drawn and so the boat crashing against it. But my fave redrawn is the one of Boutarou and Shiraishi cheering, which now shows a much more happier Shiraishi and a childishly cheering Boutarou. I love those two!

Noda then proceeds to show how Boutarou is very angry at the idea 3 of his men were shoot... which better explains why he took an anchor and attacked without regard for the people. Similarly to Sugimoto, when he’s furious he’s dangerous... and it’s possible he grew so angry because he was fond of those men.

We then see Boutarou take matters (and an anchor) in his hands...

Another redrawn is in the Boutarou/Sugimoto confrontation.

And with this to chap 236 we go.

Again, some scenes or expressions are drawn better here.

Plus we get some redrawing when Boutarou explains things.

We’ve a new panel of Sugimoto turning down Boutarou’s idea.

Then we get more interaction between Boutarou and Sugimoto as Sugimoto’s reveal of his past now involves more Shiraishi and Asirpa.

And we better dig into Boutarou’s connection with Sugi.

Sugimoto’s expression after he pet the cat is much more dramatic...

...his eyes losing their light.

Chap 237 continues expanding things.

We get a flashback in which Boutarou remembers the cigarette case was Heita’s.

The volume shows us the gold is a lot more than the one we see in the magazine version.

The scene about Botarou trying to kill Sugimoto and Shiraishi is expanded.

Boutarou seems genuinely shocked when Gontou is hit by the spinning wheel, stretching is hand as if he were wishing to bring him aid.

Differently from teh magazine he won’t be smiling when he tries to drwon Sugimoto...

...and the two will fight a lot more. Sugimoto tries to kick Boutarou a lot and Boutarou uses his long hair to tie Sugimoto’s foot and pull him down.

It’s beautiful and definitely worth buying the manga.

We are at Chap 238.

A small panel about Asirpa explaining Sugimoto about Heita.

We’ve then more interaction between Boutarou and Asirpa.

I find interesting how again we’re show Sugimoto saying hinna but not Asirpa.

And so we reach chap 239.

Jack/Ostrog’s face is still kept in the dark at first, but his clothes are much more visible. The battle between him and Usami is expanded and sorry, no, I’m not going to show it. Still Noda is more comfortable showing him, his face partially visible (and Kikuta too as his eyes were back in the magazine).

And it’s when Kikuta see him we’ve the big reveal and it makes A LOT MORE SENSE having it here than as late as it happened in the manga. And honestly that lateness feels it was due to Noda not having chosen yet how to characterize him.

We can also see that on his genitals there’s a birthmark... which explains why Kikuta comments on getting a look on his face and member, because now he can recognize him either by looking at his face or by looking at... something else.

So yeah, Ostrog/Jack stops being a dark silouette.

Noda let us hear his thoughts after he killed those two women.

We’ve a flashback from Kikuta, showing Jack/Ostrog’s face and how he had a birthmark in a... peculiar area, which is why Kikuta remarked it was relevant he saw it.

And now we move to the last chap of the volume chap 240.

Ostrog is now clearly visible where before he was just a dark shadow.

A new panel showing how Kirawus... well, he didn’t quite disguise himself, albeith he did something, he tried to sell fireworks.

Another new panel showing how Kadokura in his disguise, can’t pick up coins.

When Ishikawa explains about Jack the Ripper Noda added people walking in the image of the city he drew and also showed a nespaper talking of Jack. The writing on the newspaper explains how in Japan the case became a hot topic in 1888 and how in 1900 they started to call the killer ‘Kirisaki Jack' (切り裂きジャック “Jack the ripper”).

We’ve another image of Ostrog/Jack when Ishikawa talks about him.

And we finish with the last page which shows the faces of Ostrog and Ueji.

And that’s all.

Well, actually no. The one thanking the editor is...  I’ll let you see for yourself.

And that’s all for this volume. While there’s nothing drastic in terms of new content, it better flashed out the relationship between Boutarou and his underlings, giving a name to the main one of them, better showed how Boutarou fought underwater and handled Ostrog/Jack WAAAYYY better than the magazine version where it seems Noda remained undecided on his character design for a much longer time and that’s why he obscured his face, making the reveal pretty anticlimatic as nothing big justifying it happened.

Here instead it’s just perfect so really, I recommend you to buy this new volume of Golden Kamuy, either in Japanese or as soon as it comes out in your country!

#Tanigaki Genjirou #Inkarmat #Susupo #Osoma #Koito Otonoshin #Tsukishima Hajime #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Golden Kamuy Magazine vs Volume #Kikuta Mokutarou #Usami Tokishige #Ariko Rikimatsu #Ogata Hyakunosuke #Hijikata Toshizou #Kadokura Toshiyuki #Kirawus #Michael Ostrog #Oosawa Fusatarou #Okuyama Kantarou #Ishikawa Takuboku #Nagakura Shinpachi #Toni Anji #Ushiyama Tatsuma #Sugimoto Saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Gontou Koujirou #Asirpa #Matsuda Heita #Vasily #Ueji Keiji

[jaybear1701]

The Outpost is, without a shred of doubt, a shithole.

And Ellen Waverly secretly loves it, even though her fellow ASCANs frown at the tavern’s dilapidated exterior. Anybody who’s anybody knows about the dive bar frequented by astronauts, engineers, and other NASA staffers. Spoken about with hushed reverence, the Outpost is hallowed ground, a right of passage, and a frisson of excitement courses through Ellen as they pause just outside its entrance.  

“This is it?” Dani Poole eyes the peeling red paint of the watering hole’s sign, uncertainty lacing her voice as she clutches the strap of her purse.

“Yep.” Molly Cobb lights a cigarette dangling from the corner of her lips. She pulls the door open, hinges squeaking, and the odor of cheap beer and stale smoke wafts out. “You gonna stand out here gaping all night?” Molly strides in without waiting for a response. Patty Doyle’s right on her heels, as usual. 

Neither bothers to check if the others are following, but Tracy Stevens manages to catch the door before it swings shut again. “Let’s go, ladies.” She ushers the others inside. “Can’t let Cobb and Doyle have all the fun.”

The stench, now mingled with sweat and other odors barely concealed by fading cologne,  intensifies the second Ellen sets foot inside the dimly lit bar. She wrinkles her nose and, as her eyes adjust, they walk past a beat up cigarette machine into a tightly packed space where all eyes immediately fall on them. Ellen thinks she recognizes some of the men from around the halls of JSC, but in all honesty they blended together in a uniform mass of white oxfords, skinny black ties, and thinly veiled disapproval. They were all just waiting for them to fail.

“Same shit, different toilet,” Molly mutters under her breath. Still, she throws her head back high, cocksure, and swaggers toward a pool table with Patty. Her heavy boot steps draw even more attention, not that Molly pays it any mind, acting as if she’s frequented The Outpost all her life. Like she belongs there.

Ellen does her best to follow Molly’s cue, straightening her spine and making her way around a jukebox that’s seen better days to the last empty table. “First round’s on me,” she announces, surprising even herself. 

“That’s mighty generous,” Dani says as she and the others take their seats. The legs of their chairs scrape across the slightly sticky wood floor. They all pretend they don’t see the little brown insects that scatter from beneath the table.

“What would you like?” Ellen asks before any of them decide to hightail it outta there. 

“Round of JD,” Tracy responds. “Least that’s what Gordo has when he’s here. If that’s all right with y’all, of course,” she adds to murmurs of assent.

“Coming right up.” Ellen beelines for the bar, continuing to ignore the stares from around the room that make the tips of her ears burn despite her carefully curated air of indifference.

She manages to find a small opening between the occupied, but is disappointed when no one’s there to serve drinks. The bartender probably took a quick break, she thinks, focusing her attention on the black-and-white astronaut photos that line the wood-paneled walls. Idly drumming her fingers against distressed mahogany, she wonders if her picture would ever be prominently displayed alongside the likes of Armstrong, Glenn, and Aldrin. Of if she’ll wash out, as her mother seems to be expecting.

An unsubtle cough interrupts Ellen’s musings, and a man leans an elbow on the bar to her left, a little too close for comfort. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this?” He slurs out the oh-so-creative pickup line, alcohol sharp on his breath.

It takes all of her willpower not to roll her eyes in disgust. Instead, she pretends not to hear him, but he persists. “Never seen ya before. Y’all tourists or somethin’? Sightseein’?”

Irritation spikes in Ellen, who has half a mind to correct him, nondisclosure agreements be damned, when another voice cuts in. “Jimbo, what’d I tell you about scaring new customers?”

Ellen turns her head to the right and… Oh.

She’s not quite sure what she expected when it came to The Outpost’s barkeep. Based on the decor, she wouldn’t have been surprised by someone schlubby and indifferent and borderline antisocial. But Ellen most certainly isn’t expecting one of the prettiest women she’s ever seen, with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a careless ponytail, bangs hanging just above eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. And just like that, Ellen’s starting to understand the appeal of the place. 

“C’mon now, Pam,” Jimbo drawls, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Jus’ tryin’ to be friendly.”

“Uh huh.” Pam cants her head to the side, unconvinced. “Get outta here before I call your wife.” After he slinks away, Pam gives Ellen an easy smile, bracing her hands on the bar. “Sorry ‘bout that. What can I get for you?”

It’s not until Pam’s closer that Ellen remembers to breathe, the influx of oxygen allowing her to regain control of her faculties and notice the pin fastened to Pam’s maroon t-shirt. It reads in bold white letters against a black background bespeckled by stars: A Woman’s Place Is In Space. 

Ellen’s stomach swoops in delight. 

“You okay?” Pam asks when Ellen doesn’t answer right away.

“Oh, er,” Ellen intelligently answers in a manner befitting a future astronaut. “Yes, sorry.” Heat rises in her cheeks. “Drinks?” She vaguely gestures toward the other candidates, and the pool table where Molly’s lining up a shot that sends a striped ball straight into a corner pocket. “For me. And my…” Her what? They aren’t exactly friends. Rivals would be closer to the truth, but that would sound weird. And she’s already being weird. She eventually settles on, “Colleagues.” 

“Drinks,” Pam repeats, eyebrows disappearing beneath her fringe.

“Yes, um, please.” 

“Sure thing.” Pam nods, thoughtfully observing the other women for a moment before fixing her gaze back on Ellen. “Got something particular in mind? Or should I surprise you?”

Ellen somehow manages not to smack the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Sorry. Jack Daniels for, uh, seven.”

“You got it, space cadet.” With a wink, Pam pushes off the bar to fetch a set of lowball glasses and arranges them in a neat row.

It takes a few seconds before Pam’s words catch up with Ellen. Was Pam referring to Ellen’s embarrassingly delayed response or… “Space cadet?”

“You all are the female astronaut candidates, aren’t you?” Pam reaches past several rows of bottles to fetch the whiskey. 

“What, uh, what makes you think that?” Ellen nervously brushes her hair behind her ear. No one’s supposed to know who they are until they graduate. If they graduate.

Pam shrugs, the tip of the bottle’s spout poised above the glasses. “Groups of women don’t really wander in here. Plus, some of you match the scuttlebutt I’ve heard here and there.”

“Scuttlebutt?”

“NASA types like to talk, especially after they’ve had a few.” 

“That’s…  not unsettling in the slightest.” Ellen tries and fails to tamp down a swell of unease, wondering if they’d all be bounced from the program if word got out.

“Relax.” Pam chuckles, as if reading her mind. She tips the bottle forward, expertly eyeballing  two fingers of brown liquor per glass. “What’s said here stays here. Unless you’re a reporter, then I’m sworn under our unofficial Baldwin rule to kick you out.” 

“Definitely not a reporter,” Ellen says, recalling Ed Baldwin’s very public misstep in calling out NASA after the Soviets landed on the moon last summer. Relief eases some of the tension between Ellen’s shoulders. She shifts from one foot to the other, curiosity getting the better of her. “So, what have they been saying? All good things, I’m guessing,” she jokes weakly, all too aware of the rampant sexism among many, if not most, of her male counterparts.

“They wouldn’t dare say anything negative within earshot of me.” Pam taps her equality button. “Would never get a drink otherwise.” 

Ellen can’t stop herself from smiling as Pam finishes pouring, sets the bottle down, and crosses her arms.

“Let’s see, I’ve heard that two of them were in Mercury 13. Have chips on their shoulders.” Pam nods toward Molly and Patty playing pool. “I’m guessing they’re the ones over there acting like they own the place.” There’s an underlying current of respect in her voice as her line of sight drifts toward the lone table surrounded by women. “The blonde? I’d bet all my tips that she’s Tracy Stevens. Got those Hollywood looks that’d be Gordo’s type.”

Ellen has to admit she’s impressed. “And me?” She asks before she can stop herself.

Blue eyes darting across Ellen’s face, Pam appraises her in a way that sparks flutters against her ribs. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard about you, Ms...?”   

“Waverly.” Ellen sticks her hand out. “Ellen Waverly.”

Pam grasps her hand, grip firm yet gentle, palm warm and smooth. “Nice to meet you, Ellen Waverly.”

“And you’re Pam.”

“That’s right.” Neither of them moves to let go. “Pam Horton.”

Another patron accidentally jostles Ellen’s shoulder and she immediately drops Pam’s hand. “Can I get a couple of beers, Pam?” He asks.

“Just a sec.” She says, transferring the whiskey glasses to a round serving tray.

“So, uh,” Ellen clears her throat as she reaches for her purse. “What do I owe you?” Pam waves her away. “First round’s on the house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Her smile is genuine, radiant. “It’s the least I can do for the first American women heading to space.”

Ellen ducks her head, pleased yet embarrassed. “We haven’t passed yet.”

Pam looks her straight in the eye, and says without hesitation, “You will.”

Warmth blooms inside Ellen’s chest from Pam’s sincerity. “I… thank you." She hopes her face isn't as red as it feels. "We’ll make it up to you.”

“Prove all the assholes out there wrong, and we’ll be square.” Pam pulls out two beer bottles, swiftly pops off their caps, and hands them to the man. She inclines her head toward the tray of Jack Daniels. “I’ll have these out to you in a jiffy.”

With one last nod, Ellen makes her way back to the table, heart pounding and already vowing to return to the shithole that wasn’t so shitty after all. 

#ellen x pam #for all mankind #ellen waverly #pam horton #spacepoet #fam fic #famk fic