#and when you shut me down like that it actually uhhh really fucking hurts

[natjennie]

feeling a little uhh bad rn

#my sister straight up was basically like 'you talk about ghosts all the time and its so annoying' #like hm. #interesting. #ok i'll never say anything about something i like again. #my family will abide me being obsessed with something for as long as its novel #when its new theyre like aw its so cute she cares about something #but when im months deep and it takes over my brain #then its 'god i wish you would talk about anything else' #and like. yeah i get it. #i totally get it. but im not doing it on purpose #and when you shut me down like that it actually uhhh really fucking hurts #anyway.

[mazyb0i]

Someone on Reddit tried to say that Rick only truly loves Beth, and to prove them wrong, so here I am!

tldr:

Character analysis of Rick Sanchez from an autistic fans point of view, understanding his attachment styles.

He'll do anything for BP, if season 6 proves anything, it's that he'll die for BP. He literally admitted to loving him, which I have not heard him tell or say about anyone before in the show. When

he does say stuff like that it is significant. Bird person is the only character on the show he has been openly genuine with.

If season 7 proves anything, Pers is the only one that can sneak up behind him and grab him out of nowhere without getting some snarky comment, mean look, or a left hook. They both care about each other deeply, that is clear. Rick was extremely

upset by the wedding with Tammy. Rick told the bird person how much he respected him more than anyone, even when he contradicted himself by saying nothing matters, he wanted to be with Percy. He wanted to travel with him and spent every moment with him.

--

"Then why did you help me?"

"I respect you, and I wanted you to know that you could respect me too."

" But if nothing matters...?"

"You matter! You matter to me."

"Uhhh- Rick... the relationship we have-"

"I never used that word!" - Rick (denialism)

--

It's funny how after this he calls him a judgmental dork, and not something much harsher.

--

"Why the fuck are you risking your life for that asshole!?" - Memory rick

"Because, you love him."

"You do maybe, but I don't."

"Yeah, yeah, you're real cool. Now, come help me save his life or fuck off, because I don't need you.

(Very much so loves BP.)

--

--

"I'm sorry Rick, but we cannot choose the ones we love" - Pers

"You got that right! Why do you think I'm still fucking down here!?"

--

Birdperson mentions that he would be dead if it wasn't for Rick, this also accounts for multiple times now since he brought BP back to life recently. Rick has stuck his neck out for the man so many times contradicting his "nothing matters" front, because that's what it is, it is a horrible coping mechanism to ignore your problems and pretend they don't exist because 'nothing matters'.

Its a problem that I have and I'm working through in therapy myself, it's called Denialism. Because 'if you shut yourself out from the world and your problems, then nothing can hurt you, and they don't exist'. You convince yourself you're in control when you're not, you have the least control, and it fucks you up. Rick isn't truly and fully nihilistic, or else literally nothing would matter to him. He makes sure to keep his Morty alive, he constantly brags on about how he can just get a new family, but he has the same Morty that he's had since the beginning and sticks his neck out for him as well.

--

"No, Morty. Because you were too afraid to tell me. What we had was abusive, don't you see? I'm a bad partner, because I never made you a true partner."

--

--

"I was afraid if I jumped in a hole you would just stand there and watch me, you wouldn't even jump in after me!" -Morty

But then Rick in season 1 literally jumped in after Morty when he fell through the garage floor into the Schrodinger's cat void.

"Be good, Morty, be better than me."

--

--

And when Rick starts crying at his memories of Morty in season One, but he refrains from expressing it so that Morty does not become, as he puts it, "cocky" (denialism)

I would also like to point out I feel like in the later seasons he starts calling Morty 'buddy' more?? he's a lot nicer to him than he used to be, and just recently allowed Morty to hug him without pushing him away, actually hugging back. He's also stated that he respects summer very deeply, which if he says that about someone, it really means that he does. He sees his Diane in Summer, and he also implies that summer is like a cat, her affection and respect needs to be earned; unlike Morty's dog like affection that is just given away. But we also hear Rick say that Morty reminds him a lot of himself when he was younger, this implies a lot of parallels.

Memory Rick brought out a lot of Rick that we didn't see previously, a person who wasn't fully tainted by the lack of treating mental Health issues, coping issues, unhealthy attachments, and all the other things that led up to Rick being the way he is. he said his heart broken so many times, he's been backstabbed, he is very hurt person. This doesn't excuse all of his actions but is a very good explanation and reason for why he is the way he is and the way the human psyche copes with it's environment to protect itself. it's like walking up to a caged animal with a taser, these are his defense mechanisms, it makes him look like a dick on the outside but currently it is the only thing that he knows how to do on instinct for protection, and that's why he's in therapy. This is why I believe he's genuinely trying to get better, he can get along with his therapist more than ever, even if he has sly remarks he genuinely listens to Mrs. Wong.

--

"I don't like being told where to go or what to do. I consider it a violation."

--

"There's a lesson here, and I won't be the one to figure it out"

--

"I don't discuss problems, I incinerate them"

--

"It was charmingly analog. For a sec, you kind of made me like myself." - Mem Rick

"You'll grow out of it." - Rick

He resents his younger self for helping him and makes sure to mention that he "grew out" of his ability to like himself, Rick has some extreme self-hatred. it's hard to fully love someone or Express a healthy relationship when you can't even have a healthy relationship with yourself.

--

"You act like you're the one that got stabbed in the back!" -Morty

"Because I AM THE ONE, Morty. You wanna know why I replaced myself in the beginning of that stupid knights of the morning sun thing!? I SAID don't take the fucking sword! And you were like "Whatever", like I'm our neighbor Jean or David Arquette or something!! You called me boring! I've become dog shit to you! That's what happens when you let people in and they stop respecting you! They touch your shit, they screw things up, they KILL your fuckin family! Go ahead and trust them, you're gonna learn the same fuckin thing." -Rick

--

#character analysis #rick and morty #rick sanchez #birdrick #rick n morty #birdperson #morty c137 #rick c137 #summer smith #dr wong #therapy #mental health discussion #analysis #character development

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

TODAY ON Me Never Shutting TF Up About OrangeJuiceVerse:

Let’s talk abt the Disaster Duo.

Aka Kenny McCormick and Stan Marsh. These two… smh they really are each other’s enablers (as Ky pointed out here) in all things. Naturally, I have headcanons that haven’t seen the light of day yet.

Aight so if u know the ojverse, you know that our sweet leading man Stanley Marsh absolutely thinks of Kenny as his Blood Brother In Desperation (someone get this man (me) away from FOB’s discography) and the platonic stenny bond is SO real. They’re always down to do stupid shit together and are 100% the reason Kyle has high blood pressure.

Kenny, on more than one occasion, has done some shit like gone up to Stan like “hey dude you wanna climb the water tower” and Stan didn’t even question it he was just “sure why not” when I say Marj and Kyle were sooo pissed bc Kenny fell off the ladder and knocked Stan off too on the way down lmfao these two idiots were in so much trouble for hurting themselves in a completely avoidable way.

Oh my GOD they set shit on fire all the time out here trying to start a grill because they’ve dubbed themselves the “grillmasters” and then suddenly Stan has no arm hairs. BOTH of them have threatened to drink lighter fluid at minor inconveniences.

As referenced here, Kenny, as a true weirdo artist boy (I’m projecting) once mixed acetone and resin INDOORS (he and Stan were drunk and not thinking) and the fumes were so strong that Stan deadass passed out and it was soooo stupid Kyle was so mad at them. With bigger projects throughout their ENTIRE lives if Ken is like building a big ass sculpture or sum he’s going to Stan and like Cartman will go out to the backyard of the Survivor House to see them dangling from the roof to get the top parts on and just sends a pic in the groupchat to get them in trouble smh

Oh my god I’ve mentioned that Stan had a parkour phase in middle school (referenced here) and who was with him trying to do backflips and vault over walls? Kenneth. This one time they were like “dude we should expand our gymnastics skills” “oh yeah for sure” and they started trying to do that two person cartwheel thing and they THOUGHT they got it down and went to show Kyle but they completely busted their asses like landing in a tangle of limbs and shit (Kenny died) bruh Kyle was SO fuckin mad like “THE FUCK ARE YALL DOIN THAT IN THE STREET FOR” and Stan was all “uhhh cuz it’s a flat stretch of ground? Duh” dumbasses

Canonically in the OrangeJuiceVerse these two are both school mascots (Stan only for the season Kenny played basketball, Kenny through the entirety of hs) and have stupid signature moves that they do in the “stank ass cow suit”. Like Kenny literally gets shot out of a cannon to kickoff football games and Stan does flips that are seriously not safe with the low visibility in a mascot head they actually have no sense of self preservation until someone gets hurt. Ohhh my god one time at a football game Stan was benched for whatever reason and he was BORED so he’s bothering Marj and Kenny and the other cheerleaders and he was full on “wait Ken stand on my shoulders and find Ky in the crowd” so they’re walking around the track like that (stunt buddies at their peak) and no one is watching the game they’re just distracted by whatever tf these two have going on and then the coach notices and is like “goddamnit MARSH! Get on the field!” Smh mans got unbenched for his own safety how ironic

As kids? No one went harder playing superheroes than these two. Cartman may have been the one leaning too hard into the “marketing” side of things (“fatass you can’t call yourself that! It’s a fucking slur!”) but Stan and Kenny were out here terrorizing construction sites bc there was so much cool shit to climb

Even as adults the shenanigans don’t stop dude Stan and Kyle drove over to the city to see Ken and Marj and Ky woke up in the middle of the night and Stan wasn’t there he went to get Marj “dude wake up the guys are gone” guess where the Disaster Duo was? Trying to get into a closed water park by digging under the fence. Yes they were in Trouble.

And when they’re older and Stan’s sober so you’d think he’d be slightly less inclined to do dumb shit? NOPE! He and Kenny are going WAY too hard at paintball and Stan falls off the top of an obstacle bc he was in “sniping mode” and “it’s like irl Fortnite!”

On their own? These two are fairly tame with some exceptions. Together? Someone needs an emergency room.

#please lmfao #south park #headcanons #back on the #OrangeJuiceVerse #bullshit #who is surprised #sp headcanons #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #my beloved Disaster Duo #my shit #ao3 shit #ojv

[shapeshiftinterest]

Friend-Zoned on April Fool’s Day: bowser x luigi

bowser asks luigi out as a prank

big thanks to AllageAntelope from twitter for helping translate and collab on the italian dialogue

story under the read more

Friend-Zoned on April Fool’s Day (also on ao3)

“I think we should-a start as friends first, no?” Luigi smiled, patting the clawed paw holding his.

Bowser blinked. This... was not how he expected his April Fool’s prank to go. The Koopa King had kidnapped his beloved Peach as usual and, when Mario and Luigi showed up to pick a fight, released the princess to everyone’s confusion.

‘There you are,’ he’d said, stomping over to, not Mario, but Luigi. Bowser had taken the green plumber’s gloved hand in his, looked him in the eyes...

...and asked him to be his boyfriend.

The plan was to embarrass both brothers by asking out the wimpier as a slight to Mario, while also stoking the flames of jealousy in the princess’s heart. Fool proof logic for a koopa such as himself.

What he hadn’t taken into account was Luigi apparently being into huge, fire breathing turtle dragons. The green weirdo had actually blushed and taken his paw with his other hand, stuttering out excuses and apologies.

‘I’m-a flattered, really,’ Greenie had said, squeezing one of Bowser’s fingers like he was consoling him. Him of all people! Like, come on! ‘And I’d love to be-a your Ragazzo; but I think we should-a start as friends first, no?’

“Uhhh,” Bowser blinked again. Even for his own prank, he couldn’t believe he was getting rejected. And by Green ‘Stache no less!

“Oh my!”

Wait, was it actually working; was Peach jealous?!? Bowser’s gaze eagerly snapped to the princess, her hand delicately in front of her mouth. “Peach- I-”

“Was that why you kidnapped me outside of our usual schedule, Bowser?” Peach smiled, clasping her hands together. His face fell. No, oh no no no no no no-.

“I’m so happy for you!” She beamed. “And you too, Luigi!”

The Koopa King looked back at Luigi, realizing they were still holding hands. The taller plumber had somehow gotten even redder once everyone’s attention was on him.

“Principessa!”

“We were wondering if you’d noticed, he’s had a crush on you for a while now,” she giggled. “It’s so nice to see you moving on, Bowser.”

“Non dirlo a lui!”

Luigi finally let go of Bowser’s hand to tug his hat over his face. Wow, did he need a doctor or something? Guy was starting to look like a Shy Guy’s robe.

“Congratulazioni per il tuo Ragazzo, Weegee,” Mario teased, ruffling the top of Luigi’s hat.

“Zittooooo!”

Luigi huffed, cheeks still red as he quickly scribbled something on Bowser’s paw before escorting the princess outside. “Call me!”

Peach giggled again and Luigi redoubled his efforts to leave as soon as possible.

“Hey.”

In less than a second, Bowser was on his back, Mario’s shoe pressing down on his chest as they made uncomfortable eye contact, blue eyes practically burning a hole in the king’s face.

“If you-a hurt him,” the red plumber increased the pressure. “I will end-a you.”

He could only watch, dumbfounded, as his arch rival stepped off his chest and walked backwards out of the castle. Gloved hands making an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

...

What the fuck just happened.

BONUS:

ragazzo = boyfriend/ guy/ boy

principessa = princess

non dirlo a lui = don’t tell him!

congratulazioni per il tuo ragazzo = congratulations on your boyfriend

zittooooo = shut uuuuup

#my words #my fanfic #fanfiction #shapeshiftinterest #games #mario #bowser #luigi #bowuigi #princess peach #peach #pranks #fake confession #fake confession turned real sort of #it was supposed to be a prank bro #no take backs i guess #april fool's day

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With the Same Title (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

Appreciation - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan is the town’s successful, wealthy, irritable, but lonely, mortician and Phil is his gardener who has to deal with his bad day from work the best way he can.

Appreciation (ao3) - epsilonfive

Summary: "Shut up," Phil says, not looking away from the screen. "I have an actual week of stuff to sort through, and unless you want to take over, I'll just--" Phil stops short as he comes to a point in the footage where his ass is center view.

"Uhhh," Dan begins, wetting his lips as his cheeks heat up a little. "I can explain that, actually,"

"Mmhm,"

Blue - washedoutgay

Summary: based off this song. ‘You were red and you liked me because I was blue.’ Dan is an artist who sees people as colours and Phil needs money.

Blue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: He needs to leave the table for a bit and calm himself down, this often happens on dates or crowded places. He excuses himself and goes to find the bathroom. He walks into the male toilets and is met with a sight that he hasn't seen before.

Someone bending over in purple lace panties.

Blue (ao3) - killingaesthetic

Summary: Dan hasn't been able to see the color blue for his entire life. Nobody can see the color of their soulmate's eyes until they and their soulmate touch. Dan has been longing to see the sky and the ocean, but he never really expects it to happen. But then he meets a boy who changes his entire world.

Butterflies and Hurricanes - phillestatos

Summary: Phil Lester, also known as AmazingPhil, ends up falling for the cute piano player who likes to play Muse on his recitals, even when he kept telling himself it would never happen. youtuber!Phil/pianoplayer!Dan

Butterflies and Hurricanes (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan Howell is head over heels for the endearingly strange boy with eyes like the ocean.

(Or: a small piece I wrote to get some 2009 Phan feelings out of my system. Read with caution - this is pure fluff.)

Butterflies and Hurricanes (ao3) - Rhensis

Summary: "You’ll never beat me. I’m best at moaning, I’m used to it. After all, I’m such a bad little cockslut, aren’t I? Come on, Phil, fuck me, fuck me so hard I can’t walk home," Dan turns around, just in time for Phil’s lips to be placed against his own, taking him by surprise. He feels someone pull his fingers out of himself, and Phil replaces them with his own, adding a third just to make sure that Dan isn’t hurt.

"I want," Dan starts, interrupting himself with a moan, "to ride you,"

"Oh, fuck,"

Fortune Cookies (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan gets a fortune cookie and it's been bugging him all day. But he's NOT superstitious.

fortune cookies (ao3) - oqua

Summary: Dan goes with Phil to celebrate Father's Day with the Lesters, and suddenly all his complicated feelings about his own parents come bubbling to the surface.

Basically 11k words of Dan being angsty and the Lesters being wonderful.

Not so Far Away (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan isn't okay, he hasn't been for a while. He's depressed and self-harming and he just can't be what his family wants him to be. Everything is shit until he sees a weirdly intriguing boy on Youtube. What happens when they finally meet?

Not everything can be perfect, it never will be, but that doesn't mean it can't be okay.

Set to begin around 2009.

Not So Far Away (ao3) - enthuzimuzzy

Summary: Phil decides to go on a walk.

Panic - jilliancares

Summary: Dan has a panic attack at a party but Phil’s there to help.

Panic (ao3) - GuineverePendragon

Summary: While onstage at Vidcon, Dan suffers from a panic attack. Only Phil knows how to calm him down- except, Phil's across the venue doing a whole different panel.

pretty (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: When Dan first sees the photoshoot of Ezra Miller in Playboy he stares for hours (minutes? who knows what time is) before he can even really consciously shape any thoughts around it.

Pretty (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: Dan buys himself something pretty to wear, and Phil happens to walk in while he's wearing it.

pretty (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: The boxes sit piled in a jumble in the corner of Dan’s closet for weeks. Phil starts getting notifications for them in the days after Nashville, alerts of purchases off the credit card they don’t use often and then the packages themselves, one by one at the door.

(little dresses and fishnet stockings, 2022)

Santa Baby - philipsenpai-fics

Summary: I wrote a Christmas smut fic! hope you all like it, yay i love Christmas :)

Santa Baby (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: When Phil uncovers a real mess in the couple's Christmas decorations, he comes up with a sexual game to determine which one of them must deal with the mess. Phil challenges Dan to something impossible, but both men have fun trying to outwit and out-sex the other.

Stuck - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan becomes pregnant, and is desperate for a job. He needs money for the baby. Then, he gets a job at Phil’s company. It’s not the ideal job, but Dan’s desperate at this point.

Stuck (ao3) - xDeathMelodiesx

Summary: Dan gets stuck in his binder and Phil helps him get out of it.

stuck (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil supposes they're both prone to doing senseless things sometimes.

stuck (ao3) - watergator

Summary: prompt: “that’s starting to get annoying” & “good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion!”

Stuck (ao3) - regionalatbest

Summary: Phil gets his head stuck

Stuck (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Sensory overload gets the best of Dan on the tour bus in the middle of the night.

Stuck (ao3) - expiredlove

Summary: The story of Phil being hollered at by 20 women in Brighton.

Stuck On You - howthemoonsuitsthenightsky

Summary: When Dan wakes up one morning with a mark on the back of his head, the reason that he is in love with Phil is revealed. Dan thinks that he cannot cope with the betrayal, but somehow his mind always takes him back to Phil.

stuck on you (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan finds himself in a rather awkward predicament and phil ends up having to helping him

Sunshine (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: a grumpy!dan and sunshine!phil fic in which dan totally doesn’t have a crush on phil. not at all

Sunshine (ao3) - metus_noctis

Summary: In which Phil is a bright ray of sunshine creeping through the windows of Dan's heart.

Sunshine (ao3) - thewakeless

Summary: Summer sex (with consequences)

the man of my dreams (ao3) - mel_m_a_o

Summary: He first dreamed about this man maybe two months ago. The dream wasn’t really something out of the ordinary and Dan didn’t really remember what it was about, but it stuck out to him, because he wasn’t usually someone who remembered his dreams. He often thought he just doesn’t dream at all, but that certainly changed. He keeps dreaming about the same pale, black haired man and his bright eyes that make Dan wake up in a sweat. He starts to see the face everywhere all the time until he actually does.

the man of my dreams (ao3) - animad

Summary: Just over a year ago, he’d started to get Dreams, nearly every night for two weeks. Dreams, discerned from dreams by one common factor, a factor that has dark hair and black rimmed glasses.

Three's Company (ao3) - sherlocks_watson

Summary: With that, Phil surged forward and crashed his lips onto Dan's, coaxing his mouth open. Carefully, Dan maneuvered so his head was now on the pillow and Phil hovered over him, violating his mouth with his tongue.

---

Set during VidCon 2016

Three's Company (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: 2009 expect Phil is dating Jimmy and wants to date Dan too.

Trapped - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan marries his best friend, Phil, and realizes he made the hugest mistake in his life during their wedding night.

Trapped (ao3) - Junebug1312

Summary: Phil's a superhero, Dan's a super villain. Neither play nicely.

Yellow - washedoutgay

Summary: Please stop picking flowers from my garden au/ Dan really likes yellow and his cat really likes Phil

Yellow (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A new boy moved in next to him, his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, and school was starting back after the holidays. What makes it worse, is that the new boy is kind of cute and Dan’s straight.

yellow (ao3) - awrfdnp

Summary: “You’re my yellow, Phil.”

#phanfic #phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfiction #dan and phil #samefic #samefic masterlist

[perenlop]

7 and 10 for warrior cats 💜

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

I don't know if she counts because it's also the later canon that makes me dislike her now, but Ivypool. I'll admit that I'm just not capable of being unbiased about Dovewing, but it's also mostly because the fandom just. Could not praise Ivypool without shoving Dovewing into the ground. Even today, so much Ivypool content is so backhanded to Dovewing and seems so focused on blaming her for all of Ivypool's problems. Dovewing gets characterized as a ditz, an airheaded brat, a mean girl rubbing her problems into Ivypool's face, vain, judgemental, and while that's let up over the years and the Dovewing hate has died down, there's still so many amvs and such that push the idea that Dovewing was a terrible sister and Ivypool has to "give her a piece of her mind", like there are so many amvs where Ivypool just screams at Dovewing for being neglectful and horrible to her and you're meant to look at it like "YEAH!!!! TELL THAT BITCH!!!!!"

and all I can think of is like... Dovewing didn't ask for any of this. Dovewing was a child who was exploited for powers she didn't ask for. Dovewing was mocked and shamed for wanting to be friends with cats from other clans and was pushed to use her powers when they hurt her and was looked down on for being traumatized by the death she was witnessing. Dovewing protested her mentors using her sister as bait for the Dark Forest, she covered for Ivypool so she wouldn't get caught and scorned by her clanmates, she tried to be a comfort to Ivypool where she could. But she snaps one time because her sister antagonizes and mocks her so I guess that means it's totally okay for Ivypool to be controlling and nasty to her well into adulthood and it's actually a super epic girlboss moment when Ivypool beats up her sister's boyfriend for being like "hey can you not treat your sister like shit for two seconds and talk to her, she's really struggling and needs her sister right now".

And it sucks cause I don't want to seem like I hate Ivypool because "ew she should be totally nice to her sister all the time and she should never have been jealous EVER and she should have gotten over it immediately, CONFLICT IS BAD." In another series I would love Ivypool, hell I loved her when I was a kid before AVoS came out. I like characters who are spiteful and not "good" victims and who have complicated relationships with their families and who have trauma from being manipulated and used and are also edgy and have fucked up really badly and hurt other people. But the fandom doesn't see Ivypool that way, not really. To the fandom, Ivypool had her life ruined by her cunt sister who dared to have more attention when they were 12, and also it's said sister's fault she was taken advantage of by demons, so it's awesome and empowering when she screams at her sister (who is also being traumatized) and she has a malewife who materialized after her arc was over so she's actually a hashtag girlboss queen who is always right and can do whatever she wants and her sister should shut the fuck up and take it. It's the framing of it, yknow? Fanon doesn't really want you to see her as being cruel to her sister, they want you to think she's being good and empowering when she does it cause Dovewing Is Worst Girl or whatever.

10. Worst part of fanon

Uhhh... man it's hard to think of stuff at the top of my head. That sounds mean I know but it's true. To continue on my Ivypool tangent, the FernIvy girlboss/malewife epic feminist ship content bugs me. Both cause the ship itself is boring as hell and the reason it's "feminist" is just a throwaway line, and also cause the fandomification of girlboss/malewife ships is just really boring to me and that's only pushed more by the fact that so many people think that those ships are ultra feminist cause "the man does girl things and the woman does boy things!!!" and like... don't really go into them much further than that. Like okay yes it's gnc or whatever but like... do they have actual chemistry? Is there any value to the ship beyond the surface level feminism? (and it IS surface level in FernIvy's case cause the only "feminist" thing Fernsong does is... say he'll be a stay at home dad. something that doesn't actually happen and is just a throwaway line, Ivypool does all the "motherly" things like be a sahm. and I'm sorry but I personally just think it's weird that people are like "THIS MAN IS A FEMINIST!!!!" for... parenting his children. Like he should just... do that. And not expect constant fanfare for it. yknow?) Do the two have actual history you can play off of?

Also pretty much anything involving Crowfeather. That's not exactly the hottest take around but I feel like I'm living in a separate timeline as other people sometimes where they go "omg Crowfeather was actually a super attentive sweet daddy and husband and he was such a nice person and he would be suuuuuch a good father and husband to these other characters (his canon kids and wives dont deserve it cause they're cunts)"

Not QUITE fanon but also the crowd that hates on rewrites that don't sand off all the conflict and make their male blorbos nice and save all the characters that died. Like when Bonefall was getting shit for making characters like Bramblestar or Berrynose worse when like... what he did was play off of their canon flaws and go deeper into them, like giving Bramblestar a bad relationship with his kids or making Berrynose kinda sleazy for immediately going after his ex's sister for an ego boost. That's fine. That doesn't mean he's a hater or whatever and that he despises mean male characters. Conflict is good actually.

#also saw ur tag abt this going to the wrong blog and ill just rb it there dw ^^ #mail #eldragon-x

[wheelcr]

tell us tell us pls ^^ how did you and mike wheeler meet / get close w each other??

ty for the ask sweet nonie! this might be a super long story time / rant so please uhhh buckle up JSHSJJDNSJ

so basically, in my stranger things dr, me and mikey are actually ( kinda ) neighbors and have been since i moved to hawkins when i was like 6. we would see each other on the way to school sometimes or like i would catch him biking around in front of my house, but we never really interacted save for some awkward waving across the street / hall in school

until like 5 months later, when my mom just had to befriend the wheelers ( love her so so much, but her social butterfly - ness is not for me ) and invite them over for dinner. our families were chatting it up and everything, nancy was super nice to me and called me pretty which made me giggle and blush ( i was over the moon omg ) then my beloved mother who just can't keep her mouth shut was all like "my sweet rosie and michael are the same age aren't they? say, why don't the two of you go play in the living room? or upstairs?" or something along the lines of that yadda yadda basically she wanted us to hang out

now i didn't really find it as a big deal but like my only friend in hawkins at that point was dorothea from homeroom, who was a pretty, smart, proper princess. i had no idea how to interact with mike + the hangout was fucking terrible, one of my worst memories in my dr

first off, i tripped and fell down the stairs ( i was fine dw my ass just hurt ), mike then ended up stepping on one of the legos i left on the floor due to me not cleaning up cause i wasn't even expecting anyone to be up in my room that evening, us fighting over the television and the awkward small talk and him cringing at some of my tastes which i found super rude

but then after we had like this really small, brief, yet actually really sweet moment when we bonded over being complete losers. like how i only had one friend and felt like i didn't fit in anywhere and he comforted me and told me he could be my friend if i wanted and kaiauejfn i told him that "i'd think about it" but my lil 7 year old heart was doing flips istg so— that was an epic semi - first impression, and after that, i honestly had no idea where i stood with mike wheeler

that interaction was honestly it for a while. we went back to being strangers who had a soft n sweet lil moment in my bedroom. until one afternoon that finally solidified our 'bestfriendship' as he liked to call it

i spent overtime after class hours helping out with my favorite teacher, mrs miranda, chatting her up just to gain a few extra credits maybe ( yes, ik, slay me ) and i walked out to find mike was getting verbally assaulted and spat on and all that by fucking dickhead troy around the side of the school. i was thinking like 'i knew this mike guy was a fuckin loser but really? troy? that braindead kid from english— oh shit i have to help him don't i' so i did what any logical person would do and walked right up behind him, and grabbed a fistful of troy's hair!!

now, the funny thing is, i'm a few months younger than both of these guys yet, at 7 years old, still stood at around 4 inches taller, so he really couldn't do much to me if he tried. that being said, i yanked this guy's head back and yelled in his face something along the lines of "leave right fucking now", and although my voice cracked on the word 'now' it definitely still did the trick

anyways that's basically the story of how we became friends! the incident with troy earned me the nickname tiger, for the cool 'cool roar thingy' i did in the poor boy's face, which mike still calls me to this day. when i asked him one time during lunch break "why not something like a lion or whatever?" he shrugged and explained that tigers are cool— plus it just so happened that on that specific day, i was wearing my mismatched, tiger striped ribbons that i used to be obsessed with. the faint scar on my cheek also reminded him of a whisker, i guess, how he noticed that? i have no clue

#⠀💭 ۫⠀love letters.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚ 𓈒 #꒰⠀file : stranger things⠀꒱ #bike wheeler! #sooo yes #the story of patchler #HWHAJAHDJ #🏩 — nonnie ♡︎ #patchler. #TTHIS WAS SO LONG IM SORRY #mike wheeler #mike wheeler fluff #shifting #reality shifting #mike wheeler x reader #desired reality #stranger things #storytimes.

[casketscratch]

i think this place has been good for me in a... tentatively feeding scraps of myself to the blog, and instead of getting my hand smacked or regretting it, it's just. an okay thing. it's like a neutral thing to exist in a space and to have experiences i talk about and that's like. some people even kinda relate sometimes, and that's like. neeeew? i don't want to oversell it and be like tumblr is healing something in me just by letting me exist in the smallest way possible here, b u t:

people relating to me is not an experience i am ever prepared for. even my friends now it's mostly a... as long as i only exist close to them but don't try to connect too much. because i know i make other people uncomfortable. you know? it's not nothing but it's not... emotionally nourishing, either. i know it's not, because i'm trying to figure out ways to connect without feeling scared or sabotage myself by being like "what's even the point, it's too late to try."

this is. i struggle with admitting this enough that i'm having to interrupt myself to unclench my jaw. but it's the ... teeniest, tiniest little attempt to be open and honest. i am so scared of doing that again after the last year, two, three? that i have to actually like. argue with some of our more edgier (affectionate) protectors about doing it at all.

i say teeniest and tiniest but it's been a huge effort to not shut down totally and keep trying. "connect with other people" is apparently our most convoluted labyrinth of internal defenses. (like a labyrinth should be!)

so thank you to this space, i guess? i can never like.

initiate contact, the self-sabotage is mostly like, the hour of "no one wants to hear what you'd say anyway," "you'll just feel bad the whole time," "why even bother think of all the wreckage and people you've hurt behind you." and it works, is the bitch, it hits so hard that it feels like a gatekeeper that turns us all into these little like, "oh he's right, why WOULD we?" because then it's such a disorienting switch i barely remember what i was doing. or trying to do.

(i just typed all tht out and now i'm like oh fuck i got your number, man. we're gonna talk. see, this shit is useful! so many tiny insights)

anyway right yes uhhh.

... thank you. the internet being what it is i always feel like i'm one wrong word or opinion away from being run out. and when your connections to communities or other people are zero, or close to zero, feeling like even your preliminary avenues to try to connect in the first place are traps is really bad. for me. probably for other people but i'm just talking about me.

and then you take all that constant supervision from others and marry it with that internal protector sense of "see i told you everyone is a piece of shit and you won't belong there, either" and enter the canyon of despair. to crawl out of until the next time the cycle happens again.

but i think the scraps feeding bit is working. we're committed to being honest and non-judgmental of each other as possible. it at least seems to work against the endless vigilance and paranoia over, is that an okay thing to say? is someone going to call me out for [long list of discourse points in my head]. can i even talk about my own trauma without upsetting the people who'll tell me it's fake or invalidating their own, is the fact we work with our persecutors even when they're "bad" or "evil" going to start shit, etc. You know... the concerns that all boil down to avoiding feeling shame for stuff we're just trying to figure out.

which means we're like. obliquely managing to work with the alters and fragments who carry the shame that DOES immobilize us and DOES send so many of us to the stars. in baby bites. right here. just like that. where no one's yet ripped our head off or even tried to for not doing any of this right or sometimes having Bad Opinions or whatever.

something's working. and the sleepy meds are definitely working and if i don't stop now this will turn int a 2k word thing about shame and avoidance and freedom and let's just. flop. i'm gonna flop.

#kill the cops in your head #but like really i guess it's something like that huh #system things

[levis-tea-cup24]

The forever second chance

Part 1

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language! Also feel free to leave comments. I am curious to hear yout toughts!

You wake up in a rustic bed, inside the room of one of the exploration troops. Your mind is a little fuzzy and you hear the voices of two people besides yourself.

" She was found passed out outside the walls, that's exciting! A living human being outside the walls!" said a woman with a crazed look on her face, and a hair which looked like it hasn't been washed in a while.

The other person who is a man, notices that you're awake and approaches staring from above. " Who are you?" I know that voice.....

"Uhhh my head hurts so much. Where the fuck am I?"

Levi rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Let me guess you lost your memory somehow and now can't remember a single thing. How unique. So long story short: This world is infested by horrible monsters that we call 'Titans'. They have a thirst for human blood. But our soldiers have put up a long defense against them, and created high walls that protect us from their wrath. Do you remember your name? Do you have your memories?"

Thank you very much Levi for the little story time but I am well aware of things.

Levi's face begins to get tense, a moment of confusion mixed with a hint of anger is enough to show on his face. He starts to speak, but stops himself after a pause. He takes a few seconds to think before speaking again. "How the hell do you know my name? And for you I am Captain Levi of the Special Operation Squad known as 'Survey Corps'."

"Well it seems like you are the one in this room with memory loss. Do you really not remember me? Well I have to admit it was a long time ago since we have last seen each other. But I am sure the name Y/n rings a bell. We used to work together in the Underground.I was another gang leader. We sometimes combined our teams to get some work done."

"Ok guys I think you two have things to discuss."- and with that she left the room. I have to admit I actually forgot she was even there for a minute.

"Don't mess with me, or I'll make you shut up just like your friends from the 'Underground' did."-Levi is about to say something else but stops suddenly, as if he just remembered something. His face turns to confusion for a moment, then he regains his cold expression. " What were you doing outside the walls?"

" I have been trying to find you for a while now."- he suddenly pulls a dagger out of his pocket and puts it against your throat.." how can i know that you are really who you say yourself to be? And why the hell did you want to find me that much?"

When I finally got out of that shithole place we used to call home, I immediately started searching for you. I have to admit I missed you during the years we were separated. We were so good together. Got any kind of job done. I also have to admit that i miss those times.

I slowly started walking closer to him. " When we worked together,..... lived together,..... shared a bed together.

He seems to get angry but after a moment he calms down and asks calmly ." Are you messing with me?"

"Why would i be messing with you?"-I start walking towards him again,until I stand directly in front of him, and seductivly whisper into his ear. "Did you not miss me at all?"

He is not able to say a word, his lips are frozen and his eyes fixed on yours. And then, finally, in a very calm voice, he manages these words" You really mean it, don't you?"

"Mean what exactly?"

"That you missed me... and... the rest you said..."- His eyes are fixed on yours, as if he's looking at you for the first time... His face still holds an expression of surprise, but now you can also see a small smirk starting to form in the corner of his lips.

"I mean every single thing I say."

"Why? After all these years?"

"You are not an easy person to get close to since you are the captain. It was also difficult to get above ground.But now I am here."

Levi smiles at you, he wraps his arms around your back. His cheek is pressed against yours and he speaks in your ear. A low and intimate voice, so that only two of you can hear him."And yet you did it. You managed to get past all those difficulties and came for me. You really are something special."

"Now that's my Levi who i was so in love with underground as a teenager."

Levi smiles when you say the last sentence. He looks at you with such admiration that you feel a hint of pride. He leans closer to you again, his body so close, face near your ear, he whispers in a low voice. "I missed you too"

He gives you a strong hug, and kisses you with such passion like you've never been kissed before. After a few seconds, he moves his lips from yours and with the same low voice says." I'll never leave you again."

Trust me it is going to get better, also there will be shorter chapters like this one and longer ones too.

#levi x oc #levi ff #levi x reader #levi x you #attack on titan #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader

[bluespiritpaintedlady]

All Roads Lead to Kawata…

This is Part 1 of an excerpt from my Mitsuya fanfic over on ao3 called “Love Endures”. The female in this story is NOT the main OC of the story. This is a side character from Mitsuya's past. It falls within his backstory. This is the story of how she meets & gets involved with the Kawata twins, which later becomes a real problem for her AND for MItsuya. Part 1 leads you up to her just meeting them. Pt. 2 is more…uhhh, juicy, let’s say. Ok, fine it’s like straight up fucking porn… *shrugs*

So, yeah, this is my Kawata Twins hole I fell down. Oh my Goddd… Hope y’all enjoy.

There’s no, like, in detail sex in this one, so I don’t think I’m gonna label it MA but a few explicit things are mentioned. Oh and lots of explicit language of course. I mean, come on, that goes without saying, doesn’t it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, February 1st, 2007

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Koko! Yer gay, right?”

“Ew, fuck off. And it’s none of your business, anyway. I barely even know you, really. It’s only cuz Shin and your brother were buddies…”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“Whatever. I’ve known you since I was 11.”

“Uh huh and yerrrr what, now? 12?”

“Suck my dick, Koko. Anyway, soooo, that’s a yes, then?” She laughs. “Look, I don’t give a shit that you wanna fuck Inupi in the ass. That’s your thing, man. I just want to ask youuuu where all the hot guys are. And I don’t have any girlfriends anymore-“

“I wonder whyyy.”

“Shut UP! And I trust your judgment on cute guys, cuz yer gay.”

“Ugh…whatever, Aya. Yer such a bitch.”

“Uh huh…just dish, ok? What about the guys in your gang? What is it? Toman? Guys in gangs are soooo hotttt… All the muscles and the tattoos, oh my Godddd… So hot!”

Koko smiles. He really doesn’t like “guys”…only Inupi. He and his sister were the only people he’d ever fully opened his heart up to. But, still he recognizes beauty in the opposite sex and she was right. Biker guys <i>were</i> hot.

“Ok, shut up, you hentai. But yeeeeah, our gang has plenty of eye candy. Quite a bit, actually. If yer askin my opinion, no gang looks better than ours….like not even close.”

“Ohhhh, this sounds promising.” She rubs her hands together and gets a devilish look on her face.

Koko rubs his chin. “Hmmm, I don’t know if I should allow a wild ass cougar to be released in the midst of the guys, tho. You could do some real damage.”

“Ohhh pssshhh! First of all, I’m not some old lady lookin for young men…”

“Might as well be…”

“Ew!” She smacks him. “And do you really think poor wittle me is gonna do <i>anything</i> to those big bad bosozoku?? Come onnnn, Koko. Stop being fucking dramatic about eeeeeeverything.”

His eyes narrow to slits. “Slugging fists isn’t the only way to hurt someone, y’know?”

“Yeah…I know…” Her head drops sadly. 

When she doesn’t say more, he turns his head to look at her. He sees the sad lost look on her face. His brow furrows.

“Hey, are you-“

“-Awesome. Well, when’s the next time you guys are all getting together? Or, y’know…at least the hot ones.” She giggles.

He looks at her and smiles. “We don’t split into groups, y’know? All the hot ones over here and all the plain bitches over there.”

“Heh heh, bitches! I love it. They probably are a bunch of bitches. Bet I could break ‘em.”

A look of slight concern comes to his face. “You could probably break most men. That’s why I never fucked you. I know too much…I’ve seen too much.” He shakes his head.

She doesn’t like hearing this. “Soooo, when’s the nexxxxttt tiiiimmeee…?”

“Ugh! We get together once a week, usually Thursday or Friday, depends. So, that means we’re getting together tomorrow tonight but it doesn’t matter, cuz you can’t actually come to the meeting.”

He doesn’t say anymore.

She looks at him with large eyes. “Okaaayy, annndd?”

“Well, I mean…if you show up right at the end, all the guys’ll be there. We usually hang around and talk afterwards for a while. You’ll be able to see us in all our glory…” He smirks at her.

“Well, I doooo love a man in a uniform. So, how many members you got in Toman now?”

“Why? You thinkin about fuckin ‘em all?”

“Maybeeee…” She laughs. “…but then that’s none of yer damn business Koko, and I’ll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs!”

They chuckle with each other. “Uh huh.”

“No, I actually just wanna figure out if I know anyone other than you in there.”

“Well…yeah, Shota’s in the gang.”

“Shotaaa?! For real?! How the fuck? He never told me he was… Oh, now I’m angry. Ugh. Anyway, ok well, he’s my ‘in’ then.”

He rolls his eyes. “Why do you even need an “in” anyway? Just show up. I mean you know me</i>.”

“No, stop. I can’t do that. I can’t just walk in and be like ‘hey bitches I’m here to fuck!’”

“Well, at least it’d be honest…” He turns and looks at her. “Seriously, don’t go fuckin up the guys in the gang. Please. We already got enough fuckin bullshit to deal with, without you whippin everyone up into a pussy-frenzy or having to deal with mul-ti-ple broken hearts.”

“Nooo, I really just want to find one, Koko. I know I talk big-“

“Yeah and you fuck big, too.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I definitely do. But I’m tired of it all, Koko. I’m sooo fucking tired. I’ve gone from one tragedy to the next to the next to the next…” She trails off, lost in painful recollection for a moment. He turns his head away, this was a bit too “intimate” for him. He liked to keep things surface…and for good reason.

She finally continues, “…and now from one guy to the next to the next…”

She trails off again and he picks up where she left off, “…and the next and the next and the next.”, he says with a grin. 

“Shut up, cocksucker. I fight with Dai all the time, so I know I can take your tiny ass.”

He puffs up his chest a tad. “Bigger than <i>you</i>, bitch.” He walks out of the room and grabs his coat mumbling, “I’ll show you small…”

She hears him and laughs. “I wish you would, Kok’. I’ve been tryin to get some of that for a while now.”

She hears “Nope!” float in from the other room. She giggles.

“You dooonn’t knoooww what yer missssinnnn!”, she sings to him.

He laughs loudly and comes back in the room with his coat thrown over his shoulder hanging down from his fingers. 

“Damn Koko, you are hella fly and hella stylish, as always. If only every man had your kind of style…and hotness, too. Damn.”

He turns back around and points towards the door. “Down girl! And I’m leaving, sooo yeah…”

“God, yer so rude… Will you at least give me a kiss before I go?”

“Will you leave if I don’t?”

She smiles big and shakes her head, acting all shy.

“You can’t “pursuade” me with your little “act” so just stop. And come here…”

She giggles and runs over to him.

“Give me your cheek.”

She gives him a pout. “Awww, come on. Just a little sugar, baaayybbbyyyyy?” She smiles.

“Nope. I gotta cut you off.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Fine.”

She puts her cheek up to him and as he goes in to kiss it, she pulls the oldest trick in the book, the old bait and switch. She turns her head quickly and kisses him on the lips.

He lets her have it for an extra minute because he really doesn’t care and he knows how happy it makes her. When he’s had enough, he pulls back.

“Ok, that’s enough. Tiiiimme to gooooo!”

She giggles and hops up and down. 

“Thaaaankkk youuu, Kooookoooo! I looove yooouuu!”

“Uh huh. You love me for my doggy-style.”

She looks him up and down again. “Ugh. I wissshh!”

“Yeah…we definitely need to get you a guy. I can’t keep fillin in.”

“Oh stop it. I haven’t done anything to you that’s hurt you. You certainly didn’t hate it.” She licks her lips. “So, shut up!”

He smiles at her and they walk out together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Friday, February 2nd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>>12:30pm<<

“Shaaaattoooo! Hey, wait up!” She runs up to him, he watches her bounce. When she reaches him she grabs a hold of his arm and presses her breasts up against his arm. Her high school persona is running strong. “Heeey Shato! It’s been a little bit, right? I was hangin with Koko yesterday and he told me you were in fucking Toman! I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She play smacks him and moves in maddeningly close to his body.

Her closeness is throwing his mind off its tracks. He speaks to her in a lowered voice, “Uh…well I mean it’s not something I spread around at school, man. I can’t risk getting a bad rep here. My dad will end my life if I do badly at school.”

She nods like she understands his struggles. Then she gives him a pleading look. 

“Well, I wanna come.”

“Umm, what?” He swallows.

“I wanna come with you!”

“Huh?”, he squeaks out. 

“And see the gang. I want to meet your friends.”

He looks at her confused. “Come with me? Huh?”

“Tonight, of course.”

“Oh..uhhh…heh heh, well… The guys get really crazy about that kind of shit. Uhhh, you can’t just show up at one of our meetings.”

“No, silly…” She presses her tits tighter against him. “I want to come <i>after</i>. Can I? Pleeeaseee?”

“Um…” He’s startin to sweat.

She brings her face right up to his and then leans in to whisper in his ear, “I’ll do annyything to be able to coooommme, Shato.” With a sexy little whimper she whines, “Pleeeaassee?” 

He’s starting to get really hot under the collar. There really wasn’t any other way this was gonna end other than him giving in to her. He was going to say yes. He’s completely helpless against her particular skillset.

“Yeah, Aya. Meet me at Musashi at like, 8:30. And, uh, then maybe we can hang after?”

She is happier than a pig in shit. “Yesssss. Anything for my BEST friend Shatooo!” She kisses him on the cheek and walks away, making herself look as adorable as possibly as she does. As soon as she’s out of his sight, the act drops and she smiles to herself. She’d won yet another battle. Meanwhile, back in the hallway, Shato stood there like he’d just walked the path of a tornado.

“Shato-san? Hey man, it’s time for class. Snap out of it.” Someone bumps him and it snaps him out of it. “Shit.” He scurries off.

>>> 8:25<<<

She strolls casually through the parking lot, like she had not a care in the world. She can hear the shouts of “Otsukaresama desu!” and “Toman!” ringing out all over the grounds of the shrine. It gives her goosebumps. <i>They’re like an army. Fucking amazing!</i> Her smile grows as she walks around and thinks about the gang and looks at their bikes filling the parking lot.

She makes her way over to the steps leading up to the shrine and sits down. She whistles and thinks about Dai. <i>I wonder where he is right now? Is he in someone else’s bed…? Fuckin somebody else?</i> She didn’t like how that thought made her feel. It was deep; the wound was etched into her on a cellular level. She shook her head. “No”, she mumbled to herself. 

<i>I’m gonna go home with Shato tonight and have some fun and then I’m gonna get really fucking high so I can fall asleep-

-Aloonnee…

Stop it! And I’m gonna meet some guys here and maybe one of them will be a good one. There’s gotta be one out there somewhere. Someone as good as Dai-

-There isn’t anyone as good as Dai.

…or better even. He isn’t that great really, anyway. 

That’ssss a liiiieee…you don’t believe that even slightly.</i>

She starts shaking her head at the voice.

<i>You are still in love with him. 

No. No, I’m not. I mean he’s my brother…so, yeah I love him but, no. He broke my fucking heart too many times. 

You’re never gonna find someone who can fuck you like he can….

Oh Godddd…no. Stop! It’s not true. I’ll find someone. I’ve had a few really good fuc-

-You’re never gonna find someone who will hold you in their arms till you fall asleep…</i>

She wants to scream. <i>SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPP!

You’re never gonna-</i>

“Hey, Aya!”

He raised her right up out of that prison in her mind. She is so happy to see him because of it, that she jumps right up and hugs him. Tight. It makes him groan just a little. She hears it and smiles. She pulls back and looks at him coyly. “I can’t wait till we get to hang out laaaterrr.”

“Mmmm… me either. I’m sure we’ll have <i>lots</i> of fun.”

She took another step back to look at him. She eyed him all the way up and all the way down. He was lookin sharp in that uniform. This was a different Shota than she’d known at school. 

“Wow….you shine up like a pretty little penny.”

He blushes. “Heh heh… Thanks. You’ve never seen me like this before, huh?” He stands up a little taller and makes an exaggerated tough guy face and pose.

She laughs. “Definitely not.” She brings her lips to his ear. “I like this version. I kinda think it’s my favorite.” She steps back.

He chuckles. “Yeah, mine too. This is my best <i>self</i>.”

She nods and smiles. “I can see it, Shota. You are shining bright right now. I can definitely see it…”

He blushes again. “Thank you. So, uh…you want to meet the gang, huh?”

She gives him a big smile and nods enthusiastically.

“Haha. Yer so damn cute, Aya. Is there any man alive that can say no to you?”

She looks like she’s thinking it over, deeply.

“I don’t know… I mean I haven’t found one yet.” She shrugs and smiles at him.

“Good God. If there <i>is</i> anyone that can, you probably won’t find him among us.” He scoffs. “Come on. Let’s go meet the guys.”

She bounces up and down. He gulps and has to take a deep breath. They walk over to a small group of guys standing around a pair of twins, one with bright pinky-orange shoulder-length hair and one with bright bluish-green shoulder-length hair, both style in exactly the same way. The only difference between them is the color of their hair and the fact that the orange one had sashes flowing from his uniform.

“Kawata! What’s up, man?” 

The blue one looks at him, shows no emotional response, and then looks away. The peach one’s head lifts up and he smiles large. 

“Heeeey Shato! What’s up?”

They do their little “bro hug” and handshake. 

“Who’s your friend, here?”, Kawata asks.

“This is Aya.”

She turns her Adorable Dial up to 11. She bows a little to them and says, meekly, “Hajimemashite!”

“Yeah, Hajimemashite, indeed. I’m Smiley. This is my brother, Angry.” His hand smacks lightly against his brother’s chest. Angry looks over at her, angrily.

“Hey” is all they get out of him.

“Fourth division, introduce yourselves to the fine lady.”

The five guys around the circle with them bow respectfully and shout, “Hai!” Then they start naming off, one after the other from left to right till all 5 are through and they are back round to her and Shato. She bows to all of them and repeats her earlier greeting. 

“So, what you guys up to tonight? Anything fun?”, Shato asks Smiley.

“Nah. I’m saving it all up for tomorrow.”

“What, you got a big date or somethin?”

“I wish. No, a bunch of us are gettin together over at my place tomorrow. Gonna have some fun, get fucked up. Can’t wait. Shit’s been craaaazy around here lately. Need to let down my hurrr, know what I mean?”

Shato looks at him and smirks. “Can’t imagine your hair any more let out than it already is, man.”

Smiley laughs. “Ohhh, you have nooo idea, my friend. It can go sooo MUCH further than this.”

He looks over at Aya and then back to Shato. “Why don’t, uh, you and your friend Aya here, come join us? I’m sure you’ll have a…BLAST.” His grin gets impossibly bigger. Shota looks over to her. “Whadya think, jellybean?”

She starts laughing. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘know what I mean?’ Like, it’s supposed to rhyme, right?”

He looks at her dumbly. “Huh?”

Her musical laugh rings out again. “Nevermind. Yeah, that sounds awesome.” She turns to Smiley and bows slightly. “Arigato Gozimasu.”

His eyes open ever so slightly. “Pretty <i>and</i> has manners, huh? Isn’t that nice to see?”, he asks no one in particular. He waves his hand back and forth and shrugs. “Kinishinae de.” 

With tomorrow now taken care of, the pressure lifts off of her and she quickly zeroes back in on tonight's meal. In front of all of the guys in their circle, she grabs Shato’s arm and leans in to once again whisper into his ear. She was aware of just how effective this tactic was on this particular boy. She also makes sure they all can see her very clearly pressing her tits against Shato. She really likes makin them squirm a little. She likes to tease. She steps back from his ear and looks at him with a big smile and he nods his head vigorously.

“Hey guys, I need to get Aya-san back home. She’s got a BUNCH of studying to catch up on. I gotta help her out, y’know?” 

“Stopppp! You’re making it soound soo…LEWD. We’re ACTUALLY going to study, y’know? I mean it, Shato!”

Smiley nods his head with a smile. “Heh heh, yeah I'm sure you’ll get pleeennty done tonight.”

She blushes and starts pulling on his arm. “Come onnnn!”, she says with a slight whine.

He looks at Smiley and laughs. “Sorry, she’s beggin me for it. I gotsta gooo!”

“I don’t blame you. I’m surprised you’re still here. So, uh see you two tomorrow, right?”, he says with a quick lick of his lips.

She and Shato smile and their heads bob up and down.

She pays Shato’s favor back in full several times over that night. When they both collapse in her bed at the end of their escapades, she turns her head towards him and between labored breaths she tells him, “Shato…I wanted to…uh, thank you…for helpin me out…today.”

He turns his head towards her and smiles. “I’d say you definitely showed your gratitude PLENTY tonight.”

She giggles. “Well, I was REEALLLY thankful. But I just wanted you to know… I, uhhh, wanna kinda keep this between us. Ok? I mean, I don’t want to confuse you… Like, I don’t want to date. I just wanted to fuck. Can you appreciate that?”

“Friends with benefits? Yeah, I can dig that.”

“Well, friends with bene-FIT, anyway. I don’t know if we’ll be doing this again.”

He looks back over at her. “You mean unless I happen to do something for you another time and make you reeaally thankful for it again?”

She chuckles. “Mayyybeee. I like to take care of my…friends.”

“You sure do. Alright, I’m cool. I ain’t gonna become some needy bitch, if that’s what yer gettin at. We’re all good, babe..”

She feels a slight inner twitch at his use of the word babe. She pushes it down.

“Good”, she says and kisses him. “Alright, I need to get some sleep. You wanna get high with me before you go?”

He gets off the bed and grabs his uniform off the floor and starts putting his clothes back on.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll see ya tomorrow night. Meet me at my place around 8-ish, alright?”

She nods and smiles at him.

“Thank you, Shato. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. I’ma definitely have to say ‘anytime’.”

“Haha! I bet. See ya tomorrow.”

He smiles and leaves her bedroom. She watched him go. <i>Damn, I do love a man in uniform. Mmm…</i> She sighs happily. But the happiness doesn’t hang around long before the whispers have come back and are startin to get loud. The rattle of a pill bottle is heard. She quickly throws a pill into her mouth and then saunters back into Dai’s bedroom and grabs one of the many bottles littering the top of his dresser and takes a big swig. She walks back and collapses on her bed. Tonight she doesn’t dream. 

#angry kawata #nahoya kawata #smiley kawata #souya kawata #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #tokyo revengers #fanfiction #ao3 writer #mitsuya takashi #takashi mitsuya #toman #tokyorev #writing #my ocs #kokonoi hajime #tokyo revengers kokonoi

[blindedguilt]

———  Basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME:  Simon/Simone (Either or! Swap between them, i don’t care lmao)

PRONOUNS:  Any 

ZODIAC SIGN: Cancer

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single, mentally I’m in an Uziga Waita manga tho

TIME ZONE:  EST

———  three  facts!♡

I’m sucky at small talk but tend to get way too excited about shit online to the point I get exhausted of reading my own texts

Left-handed

Uhhh.... I have some OC’s and a little universe thingy I’m very passionate about, though I don’t talk about it much lmao (It’s one of the bigger projects in my life right now). I wrote a book for it at one point when I was like 14 which almost got published but I VERY narrowly avoided that bullet lmao

———  experience ! ♡

.... Since 2012-2013, I think? G+ was my first platform, and my early days were on and off lmao. I only started SERIOUSLY roleplaying recently, at like 2015-ish I think. I used to use a lot of OC’s, mainly two very special girls of mine named Zinnia and Alice, but my longest and “original” muse was Ash Landers/Angela Blanc from Black Butler (Ashamed as I am to admit, I was a very big BB fan before this), who I used from early 2015-early 2020. They’re still kinda special to me for that! I’ve been using my OC’s a lot less since G+ shut down, but even now I have one RP I’m doing on Discord with my boy Barnabas, and a forever in-progress RP blog I still have to get around. Uhhhh... This blog was made on October 25th after remembering Drakengard existed, going “what the fuck was even UP with that game lmao”, searching it on Tumblr and seeing a certain Caim blog. I got inspired, figured “Well, can’t hurt if I try, right?” I was between Seere, Leonard, and Inuart. Inuart got crossed off early because I knew I’d get bored playing him, and I almost didn’t do Leonard because I’m scared of hate. But I was starting to get REALLY into his character, went “I’ll do it for a week and then switch to Seere”. Made my first post, got noticed and... ... Well. Seere still isn’t completely safe, though.

———  muse preference !  ♡

Man, I dunno... I think I drift towards the more controversial muses (In a way that’s meaningful and not just baseless shock value) because of how fun it is to really explore those mindsets and how they percieve and/or deal with their own issues. And that’s absolutely what drew me to Leonard, just like Ash/Angela! Leonard is a bit funny because I normally roll my eyes at the “Big intimidating dude who’s actually soft” because,,, well, it seems like just a way to poke the hearts of fans and flip “images” on their heads without really doing anything, and if there is a reason most the time it’s not even that bad. But with Leonard, who’s genuinely frightened and disgusted with himself rather than just being a bit shy, well,,,, that fixed the issue right up for me lmao. Another big thing is theme! What morals they have, what message they were trying to send, if that’s not interesting to me 9 times outta 10 I don’t RP the character. Leonard being a moral conundrum in every aspect though is *Chef’s kiss*  Through experience however, I don’t write very introverted or sexually charged/themed characters. Ironically, I’m more well-versed(...??? Well, comfortable) with writing smug asshole characters - In certain flavours, that is. (Lukhege, Barnabas, Alice, Zinnia, Edwin, Maria, Margarette, Colin, etc.)

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡  

FLUFF: Broken, but could be fun to fix! With Leonard he’s one of the more “normal” in the cast just by the fact that if you’re not a little boy he’s a very kind and polite little guy - However, there’s no denying he IS sad, and since Drakegnard itself just never gives him a break... Basically anyone who comes along to brighten this guy’s day in any capacity is a friend who is ALWAYS more than welcome to the Thanksgiving table. In other words: I fucking ADORE fluff (Not just for Leonard, but in general! It’s one of my favourite things to write~) and it gives me many emotions lmao

ANGST: Look at my muse. What do you think? .... I mean, I love that angsty shit, but I try not to lay it on too thick with the “everything is going wrong and has gone wrong and isn’t it all just soooooo fucked up :(” and make it an edgefest like I used to in my cringier days lmao, but BOY I’ve been getting a lot better at writing it thanks to this fella <3

SMUT: *Cough* I mean, admittedly outside of this blog I can’t say that all my RPs have been SFW.... *Cough cough* Then again, outside of partner RP (Where I’ve only ever used OC’s), I’ve only written written smut like once, in all my years of RP.  So far as this particular muse is concerned, it’s... A sensitive topic. Not completely off the table because who doesn’t want to fuck leonard  but like,,, i don’t actively participate myself in that stuff and prefer anything be decently built upon/chatted out before jumping the gun. In general I admit I like smut a lot more than what I say out loud, though.

PLOT / MEMES: I’m shyyyyy I want to respond to starters and send memes but one half is like “Can I really follow through, though?” and “Will they respond/Be actually happy to see me?” Because sure, we sometimes just can’t get the energy to reply to things (As is often the case with me) but if it becomes frequent enough (At least, without any notice) I kinda freeze up like “Did I overstep their boundaries somehow? Is it a motivation thing? Have they just moved on from wanting to RP with this character/fanbase?” and stop sending things with that pit of anxiety ready to haunt me for the rest of the month. XD And I know a lot of people get that too, so I always try to notify them in one way or another, whether through post or DM that it’s just a me thing - Because 99.99% of the time, it is!  As for hosting them on my own end, I have trouble driving the conversation. I love to collect memes, but sometimes it can be hard to find ones that really fit (There are a lot of shipping-dedicated memes to sort through). I enjoy tossing casual ideas around, but as for keeping a conversation going/spitballing ideas without trying to come off like I’m pushing it or shoehorning the other person into a particular plot/concept, I have a lot of trouble really,,,, putting anything effectively, ESPECIALLY coming back to things later without seeming like I’m being a hound. That said, plotting with me can be a pain unless you catch me at an extremely rare moment that I happen to have a lot of muse and am thinking about our characters that very second because trust me, i do, and i have to limit the number of memes i send at times if only to prevent being an obnoxious little kid dinging up your dms every second. Because of those issues, I often try to structure plotting questions in a way that’s like “What do these characters mean to each other right now?”  “Where is their relationship strong? Where is it weak?” “How can we develop/challenge that?” “Is there a particular aspect of both our characters and/or their relationship with each other that we as muns really want the two to explore?” And so on. Lord help me from turning into an online survey bot when I get to plotting with some poor soul (As some will soon be subjected to), if I don’t have my thoughts organised into neat, colour-coded little boxes then I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. Thanks for reading!

Tagged by: @voicelesshatred​ I Tag: I forgot who else was tagged in the previous post and I’m too lazy to check it out, so if you like this meme, don’t be shy and please take this as your sign to tag! Just please tag me if you do because I love to see the answers~

#||Meme|| #||OOC|| #{/I don't normally do mun memes but....} #{/final starter call repost after this and then I have things to discuss; a thread with the boys to finally get to; and two memes to answer~ #{/jesus; the formatting for this post was all over the place. now that I finally got it where i want; here's hoping the HTML stays put when #{/i post. XD} #{/Thanks for the tag!}

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 7

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (woops the longest part yet)

Summary: You finally decide to lower your pride and talk things out with Bucky.

Warnings: SMUT IS BACK BABIES! Oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, also lots of alcohol consumption, Bucky stalking you, annoying people I guess? Uhhh y’all might want to strangle me at the end lmfaooooo

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, every single time I update this I get nervous as fuck because what if this story starts to suck lmao but okay I just hope everyone’s still enjoying this story. Thank you for the continuous support like fuck??? People actually like reading my shit so I’m really flattered. Sending y’all sloppy kisses ‘cause I’m a hoe like that

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

"Uhh you might want to slow down on the drinks."

Mark was right about the bar serving the best drinks. It was actually a Mexican-themed bar which also served Tex-Mex food. The drinks were so good that the main course hasn't even arrived yet and you were already on your third frozen margarita.

"Let me have this, Mark. It's been a pretty shitty week." you told him, finishing up your drink before asking the waiter for another round.

Mark watched you with a funny look on his face, the kind that was baffled at the way you were acting now. He probably thought you were all prim and proper, given your demeanor at the office. But with the way you were stuffing your mouth with chicken quesadillas, you were far from being the department head that everybody seemed to respect.

Stress eating. That was what you were doing, because holy shit did you get on Bucky's last nerve. With the message, no, more like warning, that he sent you earlier, you might as well have your last meal before your execution.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark carefully asked but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched you eat.

You hummed, mouth full of food. "Totally okay. These quesadillas are the bomb, actually."

Mark laughed, "It's good that you're enjoying the food. I'll be honest, I really appreciate that you agreed to go on this date. I mean, if you even would like to call it that." he explained, much to your relief actually.

You swallowed your food and took a sip from your glass of water, "Thank you." you told him. "Well, this can be a date. A friendly one, of course." you awkwardly chuckled.

Mark nodded, "I don't want to pressure you into anything. I guess I got a little to enthusiastic earlier and I'm really sorry for that. It's just that...you're a really interesting person and you're cool." he admitted with a charming smile.

If Bucky was out of the picture, you would have actually swooned at Mark's charm. He wasn't so bad, he was tall and handsome. He oozed a certain charm, the nice guy kind of charm and any girl would really appreciate the honesty he was showing you now.

You smiled at him, "You're pretty cool too, Mark."

-

The friendly date was very fun, you definitely didn't expect to enjoy it to the point of forgetting about Bucky's warning. Mark was a nice guy, you realized. Bucky doesn't have to worry about him because it was never even your intention to make him jealous in the first place.

By the time the dessert was being served, you were bellowing from laughter. You literally had tears in your eyes from how hard Mark was making you laugh with his hilarious stories.

Little did you know that from someone else's point of view, you looked like you were having the time of your life with Mark. Your laughter, the ease you were exuding as the both of you talked-- it was very easy to misunderstand.

Especially if that point of view belonged to none other than Bucky, who was sitting silently inside his car that was parked right across the bar.

"Oh god, I can't breathe!" you exclaimed amid your laughter, leaning back against your seat.

Mark heaved out a shy, "That was really, really embarassing." he said timidly.

Mark's phone buzzed in the middle of the conversation, his face turning into a frown as he read the message.

"Hey, everything okay?" you worriedly asked.

"It's my younger sister. I'm needed back home." he explained with a sigh.

"Is everything okay?" you asked worriedly, holding Mark's arm to comfort him.

Mark nodded, "It's fine. It's just a little family emergency." he said before offering you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I can drop you off on the way home--"

"Hey, it's fine. You can go. I'll be fine. Your family needs you." you reassured with a smile.

Mark sighed, "I'll make it up to you next time." he said, fishing out a couple of bills from his wallet.

You walked out of the bar with Mark and bid goodbye, giving him a friendly hug before he slipped inside his car. As soon as Mark drove off, you headed back inside the bar and ordered a couple of shots because you badly needed to get Bucky off your mind.

-

Your head was pounding when you stirred awake, your throat burning and vision spinning as you opened your eyes. The light that greeted you made you hiss, pulling the covers over your head you tried to get back to your slumber.

Until you realized that the bed was soft, too soft to be your own. And when did you even own a duvet?

Slowly but surely, you sat up and looked around you, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not your room. Shit, did you sleep with Mark? Fuck no, you remembered him going home early due to a family emergency.

You squeezed your temples and shut your eyes, trying your best to recall everything that happened after you went back to the bar. Flashes of tequila shots and glasses of mojitos made you dizzy. Jesus christ, how many did you drink?!

And then you threw up in the streets as you attempted to walk home. Shit. Someone pulled your hair back while you puked and then there was nothing but darkness.

Pulling the duvet down, you noticed that you weren't wearing anything but a white shirt and your panties. You lifted the shirt up to your nose and sniffed it.

The scent was too memorable to forget.

"I thought you wouldn't be up until the afternoon."

You stilled at the sound of Bucky's voice and you almost didn't want to look up from your lap when he walked into his bedroom. How the hell did you end up at his place?!

"Four frozen margaritas, two shots of tequila and two tall glasses of mojito. I'm surprised you're still alive." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

He was wearing a tight black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. This was the most casual you'd ever seen Bucky, but also the most feral. You thought that the scowl he gave you at the elevator was the worst, apparently, this Bucky in front of you, seemed the most dangerous.

"Why am I here?" you asked softly.

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed side table, fetching the glass of water and a bottle of painkillers that you failed to notice when you woke up.

"Drink." he commanded and waited for you to take the glass before moving back to stand at the foot of the bed.

Your eyes never left Bucky's when you popped a pill into your mouth. After drinking water, you carefully placed it back on the bedside table and exhaled heavily.

"What happened last night?" you asked again.

"Your date left you." Bucky said, matter of factly.

You snickered, "It wasn't a date and Mark didn't le--"

Your very own squeal cut your statement off when Bucky threw the duvet aside, grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards the edge of the bed until your legs were hanging off. He didn't waste any time to kneel in between your thighs, holding your neck in place as his nose brushed against yours.

Your lids fluttered at the closeness, his scent yet again invading your senses, making you lose all your inhibitions because fuck, it's been too fucking long.

"Let me have this, please..." Bucky whispered against your lips.

When you failed to respond, Bucky took it as his go signal to crash his lips against yours. You knew this was a bad idea because one taste of Bucky and you're gone and yet you let him take what he needed from you.

Because you needed him just as much. So you kissed him back fervently, your fingers carding through his hair as you tugged him closer, wanting to feel and taste all of him.

Bucky breathily chuckled when you whined as he pulled away, only to shower your neck with open-mouthed kisses which made your body buzz with need. Your head was still hurting and you felt like you were going to pass out from dizziness but fuck it, you couldn't care less. Especially not now when Bucky was now nipping at your inner thigh while his hands were spreading you wide open.

All your thoughts flew right out of the window the moment Bucky pushed your underwear aside, his mouth quickly latching over your clit. A needy, raspy moan escaped your lips when Bucky sucked your bud followed by his tongue flattening against your folds.

"Fuck, Bucky..." you breathed out, falling down on your back as he continued lapping up your pussy.

You'd almost forgotten how fucking good Bucky was with his mouth and tongue. You elicited another whimper when he pulled back, but only to stand up and pull down his sweatpants, revealing his cock-- already hard and weeping with pre-cum.

In one swift motion, Bucky slid into your cunt. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you adjusted to his size. With how your pussy was clenching down on his cock, you realized that indeed, it's been too fucking long.

Bucky moved slow at first, letting you adjust to him before he began to speed up his thrusts. His breathing was erratic, soft grunts and growls reverberating from his chest as he fucked you. You gripped his forearms when he started pistoling his hips into yours, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Want you to watch me fuck you." he growled, pulling you up to lean against your elbows.

Bucky held your neck with both his hands, forcing you to look down at your pussy while his cock slides in and out of it. Your face scrunched into pleasure, your mouth open as moans and whimpers continued to escape past your lips.

"Keep your eyes on my cock, see how your pussy takes all of it." Bucky demanded as he fucked you relentlessly.

Your thighs began to tremble, your entire body thrumming from pleasure. You tried to keep your eyes open as you watched Bucky fuck you fast and hard. Clawing at his biceps, you held on for dear life when you felt yourself teeter at the edge of your climax.

"Gonna cum, Bucky..." you moaned as your eyelids fluttered.

Bucky kissed your hard, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth before tugging at it. He pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear, licking at your skin before sucking your earlobe.

"Remember this when that Marcus fails to fuck you real good." he whispered and then pulled out just before you could even cum.

You blinked, unable to process what just happened. Bucky stood up and pulled his sweatpants back up. He rubbed his chin angrily before turning to you.

"You really blew me off to be with a guy who left you at the bar." he said.

Bucky really seduced you, fucked you raw only to edge you and deny you of your fucking orgasm. And now he was reprimanding you? While your legs were spread, panties pushed aside and your wet pussy out there for the world to see. You quickly adjusted your underwear, pulled your shirt down and sat up.

"What the fuck, Bucky?" you hissed. "First of all, his name is Mark. Second, he didn't leave me at the bar!" you exclaimed before you realized something.

"Wait, how did you know?" you asked, finally realizing that Bucky seemed to know everything that took place last night. "Bucky, did you follow me at the bar? Is this why I'm here?" you asked, standing up to come face to face with him.

Bucky shrugged, "So what if I did? If I didn't, you'd wake up in the streets, in your own vomit because again, you went for a guy who couldn't even bring her girl home. You should actually thank me." he said.

"Thank you!" you yelled. "I appreciate you bringing me back to your place. I really do." you said, calmly this time. "But can you please not bring Mark into this because he's a nice guy." you explained, squeezing the bridge of your nose.

Bucky snorted, "You call that nice? He left you!" he said again.

"He didn't! There was an emergency, for fuck's sake! He needed to go home and I said I can take care of myself." you said. "I shouldn't even be explaining myself to you yet I am because you're being really irrational right now." you scolded Bucky.

Bucky shook his head, "You really expect me to believe you? I saw how you laughed with him, how carefree you looked when you talked. How you caressed his arm and you're asking me not to bring Mickey into this conversation?"

You hid your face into your palms, "It wasn't a date, Bucky. We both made it clear. And he's a good person, I enjoyed talking to him. That's it. And again, it's Mark." you said through gritted teeth.

"Not a date my ass, you were flirting with him." Bucky accused.

You scoffed, "I wasn't flirting with him! I was casually talking to him like how a friend would! How hard is that to understand, Bucky?!" you exclaimed.

"You were never like that with me!"

"It's because we did nothing but fuck each other, Bucky!"

"That's why I wanted to make it official but you said no!"

"I already told you the reason why!"

"And yet you went out with a co-worker!"

"We're not just co-workers, Bucky. You're my fucking boss! The fucking CEO! How many times do I have to...you know what, it's useless for me to even explain it again to you." you said.

Bucky chuckled bitterly, "You're going to regret this." he said with a sinister smirk.

"Why can't you understand where I'm coming from?" you asked exasperatedly.

"Maybe because you won't let me help you." he said confidently. "And you know what I hate the most about this thing we have? It's that you want me too but you're too stubborn to give in. And you know what? I'll make sure you do." Bucky said, towering over you and staring deeply in your eyes.

"What I want, I always get."

-

The weekend passed by like a blur-- a huge, messy blur that made your head and heart hurt. You wanted to spend the weekend to ponder on things, to forget about Bucky even for just a while and now that was impossible after everything that happened.

You caved in first, that was for sure. And the thing is, you don't even regret it but then Bucky exploded and now everything seemed to have gotten worse. You understood why he was so mad at Mark, poor guy though, but he wouldn't even listen to you when you said that the date wasn't even a legitimate one!

"What the fuck did I get myself into?" you uttered under your breath as you sat in your car in the parking.

You began to analyze the situation you were in and drew out possible solutions to your dilemma. Nothing a good conversation can't solve, right? So maybe talking things out with Bucky properly would make things right. The previous conversations you had with him were always too emotional with both your egos getting in the way.

Alright fine, you'd tone down your pride for Bucky this time around and tell him that you do want to be with him. It's just that the repercussions scared the living daylights out of you.

You can't afford to lose your job nor everyone's respect. So if you were going to do this with Bucky, he has to understand that he has to be really careful. Everything must be done in secret, for the meantime at least.

"That sounds about right." you sighed, feeling hopeful that this might actually work out.

The shift in your mood gave you a little bounce as you walked into the building. You were confident that maybe Bucky was able to calm down over the weekend. Perhaps today was a good day to have a decent talk with him.

As soon as you reached your floor, you hurriedly went to your cubicle to drop your things. The earlier you get to talk to Bucky, the better. So as soon as you were done, you jogged back to the elevator excitedly, unable to notice how everyone seemed to be preoccupied gossiping about something.

Your heart was pounding as you walked along the corridor leading to Bucky's office. Fuck, you were really going to risk it all for one Bucky Barnes. You were a few steps away from the door, ready to reach for the knob when an unfamiliar voice called your attention.

"I'm sorry?" you asked, turning around.

"Sir James said not to let anyone disturb him right now." you were met with the presence of a blonde girl who looked younger than you, an intern maybe?

You nodded but then spared another glance at Bucky's office. "Yeah, I uhh need to talk to him. It's usually not a problem for me to barge into his office." you explained with a soft chuckle.

The girl made a face, "I'm sorry, but I'm just following Sir James' orders." she explained, walking around the desk near Bucky's office.

"I don't think we've met. Are you an intern?" you asked, trying to be as nice as much as possible.

The girl giggled, straight on giggled cutely and stood up again. She excitedly extended an arm for an overly eager handshake, "I'm Beverly. I'm Sir James' secretary. It's my first job!"

You blinked, "Oh...oh uh what happened to Amelie?" you asked, curious about Bucky's previous secretary.

Beverly tilted her head, "I don't know. I just got a call over the weekend from Sir James, offering me the job so I accepted it. I mean, he is pretty cute. Right?" she said in a soft voice.

Is this Bucky's plan? To hire a younger, more bubbly secretary who'd follow his every order? Someone who was the complete opposite of you? Because if this was his plan to get you to cave, it wasn't working. At all.

Sure, Beverly was pretty and young and very chirpy. But you were sure she wasn't Bucky's type. He was never into obedient little girls, hell, your defiance turned Bucky on. This was definitely not working.

You didn't know why, but instead of relief you felt even more nervous. Because if this wasn't Bucky's threat to you, what could it be? You snapped out of your pessimism, maybe Bucky came around over the weekend too?

Only one way to find out.

"Beverly..." you carefully said. "I'm just going to go inside. And don't worry, I'll make sure that Mister Barnes won't get mad at you. This is all me, alright?" you reassured.

Beverly pouted and sighed, "I don't know, because he was very clear with his instructions. And he's talking to--"

"I got you, Bev. I'm going in now." you said, cutting her off and then going straight for Bucky's office.

Taking in a deep breath, you pushed the door open and wasted no time to talk.

"Hey, I really need to talk to you. I thought about--"

"Oh, who's this little lady?"

Your eyes widened upon seeing Bucky in the company of another woman. She looked like she was around your age, except that she was taller and had legs for days. Her brunette hair reached past her shoulders in lovely waves. She was wearing a white chiffon blouse paired with a pair of black trousers and matching stilettos.

She oozed the charm of a lady boss. The way she carried herself reminded you of someone but you just couldn't point out who it was.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." you said, straightening up and turning to look over at Bucky who lifted a brow at you.

That fucking look of mischief.

"I told Beverly not to let anyone in." he said.

"I just wanted to--"

"Oh come on now, Bucky. Don't be so grumpy this early, you were about to call everyone for a meeting anyway." the woman said, turning to you with a smile.

Did she just call him...Bucky?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, well you're already here might as well introduce you first."

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky in confusion, "I don't understand what's going on." you said.

Bucky stood up from his chair and walked over to the other woman, standing beside her. Seeing them side by side was making you feel things. You haven't even seen them interact that much but you were already sensing that you were going to hate their dynamics.

"This is Mackenzie. I hired her to help us out on a huge project which I will be discussing with the entire team this morning." Bucky introduced a little too proudly for your liking.

Mackenzie offered her hand, "You can just call me Kenzie. I'm a marketing consultant. And you are?" she asked.

Your blood boiled, your eye twitched and your heart ached. Because now you realized who it was that Mackenzie reminded you of when it came to her charisma.

You.

And not only did she have a similar personality to yours-- confident and had authority-- but she also seemed to be here to take the one thing you worked so hard for.

You offered a smile, taking Mackenzie's hand in yours as you mentioned your name, your piercing eyes glancing over at Bucky.

"I'm the head of marketing."

-

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#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

[no-droids]

Kar’taylir

gif credit @sersi​

Part Thirteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.8K

Warnings: language, angst and fluff, descriptions of a dead body, no real smut in this one but there is some nudity and touching, uhhh i think thats it tbh

A/N: Omg hi hi hello this was written in a week and a half so please be gentle, also I’m back on my linguistics bullshit and I can absolutely guarantee a vast majority of it is inaccurate

***

Everybody is asleep and you’re just a complete mess.

Truly.  And it fucking sucks, because this should be enjoyable.  This is home.  You’re in hyperspace, the hull is pitch black, the baby is asleep, and Din’s breathing is slow and quiet through the darkness.  Your cheek presses to his chest as it rises and falls hypnotically, you’re comfortable and safe and this would normally be a dream.  But your eyes are wide open right now and you are just going through it.  Spiraling in the midst of the most stable surroundings you could possibly conceive.

You suppose that this is partially your fault.  You don’t know why literally any part of you expected Din would explain himself without prompting from you, but you still couldn’t work up nearly the nerve necessary to ask.  Every potential question you came up with contradicted your intent, every way you tried to mentally phrase it gave off the wrong impression.  How do you ask somebody if they were being serious about something without revealing anything about your own intentions?  You can’t—that’s a downside of staying silent.

Din hasn’t said a single word since he urged you to leave the shooting range earlier, and he didn’t really seem like the quiet didn’t suit him, if that makes sense.  Yours was awkward, it fit you wrong.  You struggled for words while he easily ignored their existence altogether, able to navigate the Crest into hyperspace and exist comfortably around you without ever addressing the giant bantha in the room.  Maybe that’s part of the reason you floundered so hard—he didn’t avoid you, he held the kid while you took a shower in the small fresher, and even though he was quieter around you than he’d been in awhile, he gave no indication that anything was wrong at all.

You spent that time getting clean but also formulating some sort of plan.  As you bathed in actual water for the first time in a week and scrubbed your body clean, you tried to figure out at least why you were having so much trouble coming up with something to say, but even then, words evaded you.  You spent the entire time staring blankly at the metal wall, at a complete fucking loss.

When you came out of the fresher with wet hair and comfortable clothing to sleep in, Din was armorless and resting in your makeshift bed on the floor, the baby tucked soundly in his crib next to him.  You turned off the lights and carefully found your way under the blankets next to him in the pitch blackness, feeling him lazily reach around you and pull you to rest against his chest.  His fingers gently drew circles along your arm for maybe the first few minutes while you worked up the nerve to speak.  You needed to say something, this was your chance—

But then his hand soon fell to rest in one place on your shoulder and he passed out.  Helmet on, not even a few minutes of your quiet breathing next to him.

So now, you’re here, just… a little ball of stress in the middle of paradise.  Hours have passed, you need sleep after such a physically exhausting week but it’s like you haven’t even processed the fucking proposition he presented to you yet.  You’re having trouble even thinking the words, that’s how much he’s got you fucked up.

He said… hit the target and I’ll ma…. hit the target and I’ll marrrrr…

Fuck.  You stay on that loop for ages until your eyes begin to grow heavy, until you just settle on thinking about it with them closed.  Slow breaths from Din under one ear, the silence of hyperspace all around you—how are you supposed to contemplate when his body is so warm?  No, you can ask tomorrow, you’ll ask him tomorrow.

Eventually, you’re able to drift off into a troubled slumber, dreaming of bells made of beskar that deafen anyone who rings them.

***

You wake up what feels like two minutes later.

It’s not, but you don’t know that.  You’re so warm and the second your eyes open, they start stinging and burning and tearing up like your body just wants to cry for even being awake right now.  You finally got to sleep—you moan pitifully and start to turn your head further into the warm blankets, but then a gloved hand smooths your hair back and a voice whispers quiet through the darkness.

“I have to go.”

And oh, his touch is just the gentlest thing, but what he says makes your already fragile mental state want to shatter.  The first words he gives you in hours and they’re the ones you loathe to hear the most.

“W-Wha?  No,” you whimper and automatically reach for him, your throat starting to close up.  Maker, you’re so tired, you’re so tired, you feel so fucking emotional and vulnerable right now and you’re not even awake enough to realize it.  “Why?”

Din just catches your hands and brings both of them together in front of him, slowly pressing your knuckles to the cold beskar on the face of his helmet.

“I meet with Karga in three days,” he murmurs back, voice pillow-soft and barely loud enough to come through the steel under your fingers.  It’s gentle and lulling and it makes you want to sleep again, but you can’t and you feel like you could burst into tears for that reason alone.  “He gave me four pucks, I need four bodies.”

You can’t argue with it, the logic is perfectly sound.  But you still want to, and everything inside you revolts at the thought of allowing him leave like this without fighting for more.  Which means you have absolutely nothing reasonable or compelling to say to appeal to him; all you’re left with the glaring truth.

“But I don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, tightening your fingers.

And, perhaps if you were even half-conscious, you’d wince.  You’d cringe at the shake in your voice, you’d remind yourself that he has to make a living, he’s said it over and over again.  If you were completely awake, you’d scold yourself for being such a needy mess, but right now, all you can think about is how much you want him to stay, just this once.

After a moment, you feel the gloves carefully collect both of your hands into just one of his, and then he slowly reaches out with his free hand to cradle your jaw.

“I won’t be gone long,” Din murmurs.  “I can’t be.”

Your head turns slowly in his palm, and you’re just so, so sleepy.  Your voice is small and your words slur.  “Stay with me.”

Quiet, and though you can’t see him, the leather continues to press so warm to your cheek.  Your eyes slowly drift shut, needing him to stay exactly like this, stay right here just like this.  Karga can wait, the quarry can wait, the galaxy can wait—everything else can wait when things are like this, when he’s looking down at you breathing slow into his palm.

You’re almost asleep again when you hear him say something.

But… you have no idea what he says.  You hear it.  You hear his voice come through the pitch black, quiet enough to sit just on top of the silence and let the mysterious words simply become a part of it, but it’s strange.  Like his cadence lilts in a different way, the vowels are longer than what you’re used to, and your comprehension abruptly falters like it would if he was speaking another language altogether.

Maybe it’s just because it’s the first thing to pull you back from the edges of sleep, that has to be right.  It doesn’t sound like Basic because your mind is stupid and slow right now.  You need to ask him to repeat himself, but all that you can muster is the soft sound of confusion, not even able to open your eyes anymore.

His hands pull away from you and once again, you suddenly can’t decide between sleep and crying, quickly lifting and trying to reach out for him in the darkness.  You can’t feel anything, it’s like he’s completely disappeared from where you assumed he’d be, except then something tiny is placed into your hands instead and it makes an unhappy little sound at being disturbed.  You automatically hold the baby close to your chest and strong hands touch your shoulders, urging you to lay back down again.

“Leave the engine running, you’ll freeze if you don’t,” he mutters, quickly tucking the blankets up under your body while you close your eyes and feel the tears wet your lashes.  Fuck, you’re so exhausted, you just need to sleep.  “If I’m not back in sixteen hours, I’ll use my e-comm and you’ll have to fly out to me.”

He steps away from you, walks quickly and with purpose to the side of the hull, and a blast of frigid air fills the room before the door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Your head hurts.

Sparks and wires give your fingers mean, zapping reminders to pay attention every time your focus slips, but you still feel like you’re in a daze.

“Come on,” you drone, trying to use your voice to snap yourself back into the present, but the sound of it isn’t even interesting enough to pull you away.  “Come on.”

Maker, you’re going fucking crazy.  Is this just all an elaborate scheme to make you experience the same kind of insanity he told you he struggles with in your absence?  Because you don’t like this—you hate feeling like this, you can’t concentrate on anything and even if he hadn’t instructed you to do so, you’d likely still be counting the hours of his absence.

Fourteen have passed so far, not the sixteen you’re waiting for but getting close.  It’s one thing you’ve been able to accomplish.  Counting.  You can still count right now, so at least there’s that.

Oh, and another hoop you’ve jumped through.  Understanding words.  You can listen and repeat, even if you still can’t fully comprehend, but you’re getting there.

Din said… hit the target and I’ll marry you.

He said that.  Yep.  You’ve accepted it, you’ve accepted the words that were said.  Indeed.

Okay, but now… like…

What did he mean by that?  Why did he say that?

No matter how much you tell yourself he was just messing around—no matter how many times you offer up that perfectly logical answer to the burning question you’ve been sitting on, you still aren’t satisfied with it.  Something keeps tugging your mind back to it, a tether constantly pulling you away from the work that’s designed to be your distraction.

You frown down at the box of machinery.  Whelp, if he was serious, he’d probably immediately take the offer back after witnessing your behavior this morning.  You embarrassed yourself terribly, you acted like a clingy baby in the looming shadow of unconsciousness and what’s worse, you can’t even remember what he said after you begged him to stay.  It could’ve been a quiet, “Stars, pull yourself together,” for all you know.

And honestly, just… fuck these electronics.  You’re at the point where you’d probably cheer on whatever brutal impact damaged them so atrociously if you weren’t also well aware that this box was very likely attached to Din’s chest when it was crushed.  The magnetics are a complete mess, and you’re mostly just attempting to see how the individual components of each piece are supposed to communicate.  Turning the switch on doesn’t do much at all besides make the capacitors put out heat.  Not enough to shut it down or be a hazard to the housing when you close it, but enough to know that it’s going to present a problem for you at some point.

What’s more, you’re so lost in your own thoughts and busywork that you don’t see two green ears poking out over the top of the pile of armor on your temporary workstation (literally just the floor) until one of the thigh braces comes clattering down and the whole thing collapses with a ruckus.

You suddenly shove the metal box away from you in frustration and you reach for the little troublemaker with a sigh, scooping him up and getting to your feet.

“This isn’t going to work,” you grunt to him, hearing your words better for some reason when you direct them at the baby instead of talking to yourself, and his eh? allows the thoughts to come clearer and easier.  No, you can’t be distracted when your distraction is just another part of your status quo, you can’t use fixing mechanics to occupy yourself because it’s what you’ve done to occupy yourself your entire life, it’s worn off at this point.  You need something newer.  Something that takes your entire focus to do.

Eventually, your eyes drift over to the one metal panel on the wall that you’ve rarely ever opened.  One that takes up a comparatively enormous amount of space in the hull considering what you know it holds.  You eye the kid in your arm, who suddenly has sneaky painted all over his expression.  “You thinking what I’m thinking, demon?”

He squeaks his affirmative and you move over to the armory, pressing a few buttons before the doors slide open by themselves.  Because of course Mando invested in hydraulics for the gun closet but not for the hidden cot he used to sleep on, of course.

“Maker above,” you groan as the metal slides open, needing to lift your chin to eye the enormous collection.  How many fucking…?  All this for just one person?  What does that big one in the middle do that the others stacked strategically around it don’t?  They all kill whatever you point and shoot at, you’re assuming?  Are you missing something?

The baby makes a tiny sound of awe as you carefully look over your choices, not expecting nearly this many to be offered, before settling on one that looks the simplest.  A sleek silver one that’s still too big for your hand but smaller than anything else on the rack.

Grabby fingers reach out for the shiny metal as soon as you remove it from the shelf and you very purposefully set it down out of his pitiful wingspan.  “Nope.  Now come on, gotta bundle up.”

You make your way back over to the bed and pull one of the thickest blankets up, settling it over the open shield and then situating your partner in crime in his usual spot inside.  You strategically stuff and stack the fabric around him to make sure he’ll be warm enough in what you know has to be far below freezing temperatures, lifting it up over his ears and wrapping it around his neck in a loose hood.  He blinks up at you with gigantic eyes and an open mouth, clearly thrilled about your willingness to go on an adventure with him this time instead of being the tall nuisance that consistently holds him back from one, and you scoff down at him as you partially close the lid on his levitating nest of blankets for extra protection.  He should be warm enough, you’re not going to be outside long.

And then you pull out nearly half the amount of clothes you own and suit up in what feels like ten layers before grabbing the blaster.  The swirling wind nearly shoves the heavy hull door into you as soon as you open it and—Maker.

You look back at the kid behind you for a second, wondering if it’s too late to change your mind.  His expression narrows and he makes a triumphant ha! while pointing three fingers at the grey blizzard through the small open space in his crib.  Try as you might, you can’t ignore a call to arms when delivered with such ferocity.

Both of you step outside and take in the view after you wrestle with the door to haul it shut.  You don’t know the name of this planet but from what you can see, it’s one giant ice ball, mountainous and cold as fuck.  Though, to be honest, your only indication that it’s truly cold as fuck is the continuously accumulating snow blanketing the landscape and the flurries dancing in the whipping wind.  You’re too warm-blooded for climates like these—anything below room temperature and you’re freezing, you have absolutely no tolerance for cold whatsoever.

Keeping that in mind, you don’t travel far at all.  Just a few steps beyond the entrance to your shelter before eyeing what appears to be a large white boulder in the distance.  There’s a solid target, you figure—you’ll be able to see chunks splintering off when you hit it and the ice isn’t strong enough to bounce plasma back, you won’t have any ricochets.

Okay.  Okay—safety, where’s the safety on this one?  Ah, yes, okay—safety, off.  Stance, find your stance.  There it is.  Alright, now lift.  Lift, get that stupid frozen ball right in your sights, line it up.  Hold.  Hold.  Hold.

Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale—

Fire.

You watch with bated breath as the bright red bolt launches from the end of the barrel and travels across the distance before melting a hole in the snow just to the right of your target.

“Mother fucker!”  You yell into the frigid landscape without warning, suddenly infuriated.  What’s the point of even having a sight if every gun is just gonna say fuck you no matter what?  Could there be some sort of mathematical reason why you seem to be fucking atrocious at this, you wonder?  Are you fucking up the angle somehow while trying to read the scope?  Should you just ignore it and try to aim without thinking too hard?

Admittedly, you spend the next five minutes shooting at that stupid fucking thing, not making a single shot.  It’s not been long at all, but your entire body is already trembling uncontrollably and it is just too fucking cold out here.  Freezing your fucking ass off isn’t going to help your aim of course, but it’s almost just tragic at this point.  Either you’ve got to accept that you’re just absolutely hopeless at this, or you’ve got to… blame the little womprat behind you for messing up your shots, yeah.  It wouldn't surprise you.

As a last ditch effort, you consider trying something a bit ridiculous to see if he really is fucking with you.

“I’m firing one last shot,” you call out loudly over the sound of the bristling wind and flurries, making sure he can hear your narration from his little blanket cave behind you.  “If I hit the target… I will present our demon overlord with a chunk of raw meat later for dinner.”

You give the offer a moment to sink in before raising the blaster, and then you jerk it up at the very last second while pulling the trigger.  The arc of plasma quickly disappears into the gloomy skies over the top of the ice boulder, completely straight.

You switch the safety on and turn around to say something smart to him, but… well.  Uh.  That’s an empty crib.

Sudden panic rips through you at the sight of the wide open shield, the blanket left abandoned inside.  Your head whips around in horror, wondering where the fuck he could’ve gone—but then you’re able to spot tiny footprints in the snow.  Your eyes quickly follow them up and see the baby wading his way up a large hill, slow against the terrain and trying in vain to get to something at the very top.

You drop the blaster and bolt through the blizzard to get to him while calling out through the freezing air and wishing, not for the first time, that you had a name to roar and strike fear into his tiny little heart.  In this case, you prefer a middle name as well.

Finally reaching him and yanking him up from the snow, you tuck him under the warmest part of your arm and open your mouth to start venting the terror from your body, but he makes a distressed noise and starts climbing.  You fumble with him on your way back down, not expecting that response, but he’s so distraught and preoccupied that he’s unable to stay still, trying to find different ways of escaping your grasp and making more and more sounds to indicate something is wrong.

“What the fuck are you—” you stuff him into the shield and at least get the blankets wrapped around him before looking back and trying to spot whatever he’s still wiggling and attempting to get to.  Frustrated cries start filling the icy air and… okay.  “Okay,” you tell him, your breath puffing like smoke in front of you, “okay okay, we can go look, but you need to stay warm.”

You clutch the edge of his metal shield and urge it to follow you back up the snowy hill, feeling the crunch of your feet disappear further and further into it as you climb.  Your outer two layers are probably soaked by now—stars, it’s so fucking cold.  You know you’re not exactly the best judge, but you’ve been outside less than five minutes and you’re already worried about getting sick or frostbite, already jumpy and wanting to go back to the warmth of the hull.

But as you reach the top and look out in the distance, you can just barely make out a familiar metallic glint on the horizon.  

Your heart picks up, but the baby makes another distressed sound.  Not… happy, not thrilled that his dad is coming back.  Some strange sort of dread begins to fill you, carefully holding the kid in his shield with one hand and looking at the bright reflection of light a little ways away just to make sure it’s…

No, it’s not moving.  Not disappearing and reappearing, not catching the sunlight differently.  Completely stationary in this absolutely horrendous weather.

You immediately make your way in that direction, your body deciding to outright abandon its trembling in the wake of this newfound worry.  You’re suddenly sweating, way too warm.  That’s Din, you recognize the glint of his armor anywhere, but why isn’t he moving?

The closer you get, the faster you move and the more you’re able to see.  He’s laying facedown in the snow.  There’s quite a bit of it covering the back of his cape, maybe a few inches, and… there���s also someone laying equally as lifeless behind him.  Your heart is slamming now, you’re doing your best to run in the unforgiving terrain, and you finally see that it’s… a corpse, a frozen corpse is behind him with a rope tied around its ankles, clutched tight in Din’s unmoving fist as it lays against the pure white backdrop.

“Mando?”  You call out, dropping to your knees as soon as you reach him.  “Hey—hey, can you hear me?”

The beskar strapped to him is frozen over and feels colder than ice when you try to shake him.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s dead weight; you do your best to turn him over on his back, but you still get nothing from him.  You shove your trembling fingers up under the helmet, and the only reassurance you have that he’s even alive comes from the petrifyingly slow pulse beating underneath.  His skin is ice cold.

Shit, he’s still breathing but he’s hypothermic, you have to get him back to the Crest right fucking now.

You fumble to get in position above his head while hooking both your arms under his, before leaning everything you have into it—but fuck, he’s so heavy.  You can barely lift him even just a few inches off the ground—the snow is deep, his armor makes him weigh a ton and the fabric wrapped around him is sopping wet.  You try again, making a tight sound in your throat while you haul, but it’s no use.

“Fuck,” you curse, starting to panic even fucking harder.  You’re gasping and breathless and getting dizzy and scared, continuing to try and find different angles to heave—

—until suddenly the burden is lifted.

You nearly fall backwards on your ass at the abrupt removal of tension, playing tug-of-war with a team that decided to give up with no warning.  But it’s like it almost doesn’t even phase you; you don’t even look behind you to see the baby’s eyes closed tight in concentration, you just recover and pull with both arms, feeling Din’s body gliding easily along the snow now and leading him all the way back down the hill.

Once you get inside the Crest and shut the door to the raging blizzard behind the three of you, there’s an extended moment where you just… you don’t know what to do.  You know all about how to deal with heatstroke, but this is the opposite—he either spent too long in the cold, or he exhausted himself trying to get back too quickly and then spent too long in the cold.  He said he’d use his e-comm if he wasn’t back in sixteen hours—was that the cutoff?  The point where the temperature outside would shut his body down and he’d need you to come get him?

Regardless, you need to warm him up.  Yes, that’s your priority, and you figure the quickest and safest way to accomplish it has to be the shower in slow increments.  The kid helps you move Din into the tiny fresher in the hull and then you sit on the floor with him, holding his limp body to your chest while reaching up to turn the faucet on.

Cold water sprays down and then suddenly—oof, he’s heavier than fuck again.  Air leaves your lungs and your neck cranes back under the unexpected increase in pressure on top of you to see the kid climbing down from his shield, no longer focused on mentally bearing most of his father’s weight or directing his own hovering form of transportation along behind you.  The baby disappears out of sight and you huff, completely trapped under Din as freezing water rains down on you.

Fuck, it’s so cold.  It’s way too fucking cold for you, but your core body temperature is also mostly normal right now.  Din’s isn’t, you’ll probably shock his system if you try to warm him up too quickly.  So you reach up and twist the knob, keeping it at a temperature he’d probably find just the slightest bit warm while inspiring violent shudders from you.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna t-t-take this off, o-okay—” you stutter down at him, knowing damn well he isn’t conscious to hear you but giving him that reassurance on the small chance he is, and then reach with trembling fingers to work at his armor.  You worry that the beskar is keeping the cold trapped the same way his clothes are, like having solid pieces of ice strapped to his body and nothing to protect him besides a few layers of soaking wet fabric.

The chestpiece comes off and you throw it blindly over your shoulder into the hull with a clang—admittedly, without thinking about where the baby is at all anymore.  The pauldrons come off next, but not before you reach up and turn the heat up just the slightest bit.  Your jerky limbs just want to blast it and remove the rest of his clothes in steamy hot water, but you can’t.  Even though your mind is hurtling at a thousand lightyears an hour, whatever reason you have left reminds you that you have to be patient or risk losing him entirely.

Eventually you’re able to get all the armor off but you hate the way he’s breathing right now.  Slow and shallow, like he just doesn’t really need the air at all but his body is still fighting for it on instinct.  His chest barely moves with it even when it’s got nothing weighing it down.

“You’ll b-be okay,” you say aloud, talking to the both of you even though only one is capable of responding.  “Y-Y-You’ll be o-okay—”

You reach up to inch the temperature a little higher, shivering terribly now.  His body feels slightly warmer under the shower than it did with the beskar, but you know you need to keep going and take the fabric off now.  Maker, it’s nearly impossible—the black clothing clings to his skin and its such a small space to maneuver, but it gives your mind and hands a clear goal to focus on while the water incrementally heats up.

Strangely, your adrenaline has been rocketing for so long that you almost lose track of time.  You just keep deadly focused on your task of undressing him and slowly heating the shower, trying not to think, trying not to get in your head and bring about disaster in such a crucial set of moments.

At some point, the water is warm.  Comfortably warm, and Din’s body isn’t ice cold anymore.  It’s warm, too, laying back into your chest and naked besides the helmet, but he’s still not moving.  No response, no matter how much mindless drabble you supply, no matter how steamy and hot the shower has become, no matter how much your own body has heated up.  Your fingers have found their home under his jaw, pressed right to his pulse point and feeling it continue to beat slow and faint, but you’re starting to feel the terror set in.  Real terror, the kind that makes you stupid and emotional, the kind that turns you back into a child again.

“I don’t know if it’s working,” you suddenly choke out, close to tears.  He’s warm, what else can you do for him?  Why is he not waking up?  “I-I don’t know what to do, Din, I…”

No—no, you cannot lose your shit, not yet.  You will exhaust every fucking option before you let that fear set in.  He’s not waking up because he needs to recover, his body needs time to work things out in a warm, comfortable environment.  He’s breathing, his heart is beating, he’s warm, and he’s still with you, so… you need to still be with him.

You turn the water off and clumsily get up, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back into the hull.  He’s still heavy but it’s so much easier than before to move him; there’s no armor weighing him down anymore besides the helmet, no cape or snow or friction to catch him, no cold to lock your muscles up.  It’s slow going but you’re finally able to settle him in the warmth of your shared bed and then cover his body in the collection of blankets you’ve amassed.  You stand up and peel off all your wet layers of clothing, letting them plop to the metal floor while glancing around for the kid—

—who is currently swinging from the ladder to the cockpit with one hand.

It startles you for just a moment, just long enough for you to wonder what the fuck he thinks he’s doing up there, but then you figure that if he found some way to get up there then he can surely find his way back down again.

As you quickly drop to the bed and scoot up next to Din’s limp body under the blankets, the Crest’s engine suddenly gives a low rumble below the floor and heat starts blowing through the hull vents.  Again, you’re too preoccupied to even notice the gift much.  You’re tugging and tucking blankets around him and up under the metallic edge of his helmet when...

Maker, you need to take this off.  If the inside is wet, it’s probably keeping his head cold while the rest of him is warm from the shower.  You know it’s not a light thing—you know… you know at least a fraction of what this means.  You won’t look, you won’t look unless something absolutely drastic happens and it’s completely unavoidable, but you need to take his helmet off.

You catch the shoulder furthest from you and tug at his heavy body until he’s on his side, facing you on the bed.

“Din, I have to take your helmet off,” you warn him, saying it slowly and clearly.  Again, just in case.  “I’m not gonna look.  Nobody is gonna look—” your gaze flicks behind him to eye the baby, who is now somehow on the metal ground and waddling up to you both.  He blinks enormous black eyes at you, looking between you and his father huddled together under the blankets.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him very seriously, no room for negotiating.  “I know you understand me.”

It takes just a few seconds before he lifts his hands up and does exactly what you say, placing his fingers over his closed eyelids and then even so much as toddling around to face the wall.  You gasp in relief, clenching your eyes firmly shut and then pulling the helmet up, making sure you catch his head before it falls with one hand while tossing the beskar somewhere in the hull with the other.

Cold.  His hair is soaking wet and so cold, and his head rolls slightly as you guide it to rest in the warmest part of your neck.  Your hand stays attached to the back of it, wanting to transfer every single bit of warmth from your palm to him, and your eyes open to the kid’s back as your other arm wraps around Din’s bare spine.

And then all at once, you just feel… helpless.  He’s in your arms but Maker, you don’t know what else you can do.  The heat is blasting, you’re warm and pressed against him under multiple blankets, the engine is slowly heating the metal floor, but his breathing.  Slow.  Shallow.  Barely able to be felt against your neck.  He’s here but he’s not.  And you have no way of knowing if he’s getting closer or further away from you.

Tears start coming before you even realize.  But you have nothing to say.  After spending the entire time talking out loud, providing reassurances, narrating, distracting yourself—you don’t have anything anymore.  The silence twists you tighter, the nothing becomes inescapable, and the sudden sob that leaves you echoes hauntingly throughout the hull.  You pull his limp body as close to you as possible for comfort.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Your vision is watery—you don’t see it.  You don’t see the kid slowly turn around and take a few steps forward.  You only notice he’s there when green catches in the abstract blur, but you sniff and blink quickly to clear it.  It only takes a second to see the baby’s hand, extending and pressing against the blanket covering Din’s back, and you watch with wide eyes as he closes his.

And then there’s a second.  A second where you dare to hope.  Where you wonder if it’s even something that can be done.

The kid lowers his hand just a moment later and stumbles back a few steps, before plopping down on the ground and slowly falling backwards.  You have just enough time to see his little body inhale and exhale a few times as he sleeps, and then—

—and then Din suddenly jolts in your arms, bursting with too much life after spending too many heart wrenching moments without it.

“Shhh,” you breathe, instantly tightening your grip on the back of his head so he doesn’t pull away from you in a panic and keeping it tucked into the warmest part of your neck, right where your pulse thrums fast and present.  Your eyes clench tightly shut just in case and your heart bursts with pure, blinding, heavenly relief.  “Shhh sh sh, stay right here, just stay right here…”

As soon as he seems to recognize your voice and figure out that he’s not dead, his body immediately starts wreaking with shivers.  You squeeze him tight to you, feeling his large, quaking frame curl inwards into you for warmth, burying his own face into your neck even further and breathing shallow but quickly now, like his body actually wants the air again.  You do your best to will your blood to pump faster and provide him that relief, stretching and opening your body as much as possible to give him warmth.

And then you spend the next few hours like that.  Holding him, murmuring gently to him, providing him with your body heat and stars, he fucking clings to you.  He presses tight to you and trembles, and you don’t even know if he’s listening, but you keep talking.  Finding words for hours, and while some of them are just different ways of saying the same thing, you say them anyway.

He’s okay.  The kid is okay.  Everyone is okay.

Eventually, the shivering dies down until it stops altogether.  Din stays in one place and goes completely limp again, but this time he continues to breathe you in, slow and deep into the crook of your neck.  Fast asleep in your arms, and you thank the good fucking Maker above for the little angel passed out on the floor behind him.

***

He has to meet with Karga in two days.

After a few more hours of holding him and making absolutely sure he’s going to be alright, that’s all you can stupidly think about.

A deadline.  A very quickly approaching one.

You don’t know why.  But it might have something to do with the fact that you want nothing more than to climb up into the cockpit and navigate the ship off this horrid planet, and you can’t.  You’re confident that the hull and blankets are warm enough by themselves to keep Din comfortable as he recovers, and you’ve also had quite a while to regroup and get your mind thinking logically again, so you’re not worried about getting up and leaving him right now, no.  That’s not the problem.

The problem is that there’s a corpse outside.  You know this.  You know it’s there, and you know he needs it.  Nobody’s gonna take his word for just saying they’re dead, much less pay him for his services; no body, no bounty.  You also know it’s probably being covered with fresh snow right now, or maybe some sort of wild animal has already gotten their teeth into it, if anything can even survive out there.  And you’re the only one awake.  The only one capable of going to get it.

You’ve been arguing with yourself.  For about an hour, you’ve been struggling with the thought.  Din is soft and warm and every breath makes you focus less on the terrifying moments that occurred and more on the need to step up once again.

In the end, it’s the kid who gives you the final push.  You’re not going to leave him laying on the floor like that for any longer.  Not after what he did.

You take a second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up all the way over Din’s head as it rests warm and comfortable in your neck.  You’re incredibly careful to cover his face, and even while climbing out of the warm cocoon of the bed, you keep your eyes firmly shut and continue to pull the fabric even higher, making absolutely sure you’re not going to see his face on accident.  You shouldn’t, you don’t think, as long as he doesn’t jerk awake and pull it down himself, but you want to take extra precaution regardless.

After quickly yanking on some clothes, you immediately make your way over to the kid and pick him up, seeing his little mouth open as he snores—and oh, you just have to.  You pull him to your chest and give him the most heartfelt, thankful embrace you can while not squishing him, before setting him down in his much more comfortable hovering blanket palace and closing the lid on it.

You know you have a very clear task now, but for just a few moments longer, you do your best to stall despite the ticking clock.  You start to pick up the mess in the hull—you close the fresher door, pick up Din’s discarded armor and set it in a neat pile close to the bed, place the helmet under the vent to encourage the padding inside to dry faster, and then you collect his old armor and stuff it back into one of the storage cubbies with your toolbox.

Only, an idea suddenly occurs to you as you’re putting away the chestpiece.  When you open the door to the hull, you know that a blast of cold air is going to flood the ship.  The engine is still heating everything inside and making sure you don’t get trapped in the snow by continuously melting it on the outside, but you don’t want Din to start shivering again.

So you grab the dented piece of electronics you were working on and flip the power switch, feeling the capacitors slowly start to heat up inside the housing.  You go back over and lift the blanket near his feet just enough to tuck the metal under it, close enough to Din that he’ll feel the same amount of warmth your body was providing him but not enough to overheat.

And then you make your way over to your bag and pull on the rest of your clothes, now exhausting almost every single clean thing you own just to make another trek through the snow.  You’re in the middle of pulling on your fifth pair of pants when the thought truly sinks in.

A corpse.  A dead body.  That you’re actually considering going out into the worst fucking weather in the galaxy to search for, haul back to the ship, and put into carbonite.  Because of a fucking deadline for an occupation very much not your own, very much not chosen by you.

You quickly walk over and leave through the door on the side of the hull before you can change your mind, slamming it shut behind you.

***

Well, it’s…  It’s not too terrible, you guess.

It’s been frozen out here for hours, that’s why.  It’s not bloody, not gory, not demented or malformed in any way.  Tranquil almost, like the creature died in its sleep in this nightmarish landscape, perfectly at peace.

You still don’t want to get anywhere close to it, but you have to.  You pull a face and slowly reach out, absolutely not thinking about the literal impossibility of it playing dead and just waiting for the moment to strike, but even still…  Even if there was nothing more sinister hiding underneath the surface of this scene, it’s still… existentially fucked up.  The last time you were confronted with a dead body, Din had to be the one to dispose of it—you couldn’t even think about it without threatening another wave of shock to your system.

And now you’re voluntarily grabbing the rope around one’s ankles and dragging it back down the pure white slope to the Razor Crest.

It doesn’t weigh that much and its icy exterior seems to work in your favor; it slides easily along the snow as soon as you get it moving.  As the ship comes back into view, you hurry to the door and you’re just about to open it when you suddenly get the feeling that you’re forgetting something…

Oh—

It takes a few moments of searching around in the freshly fallen snow, but eventually your fingers brush metal underneath and you stand, reaching behind you to tuck the blaster into your waistband.  When you’re positive you’re not going to accidentally shoot a chunk of your ass off on accident, you shove open the door and pull the body inside, before locking it tight behind you and keeping the frigid winter from touching this warm, quiet safe-haven.

There.  Halfway done.  You almost don’t want to look in case he wakes up unexpectedly, but then you find yourself peeking over your shoulder at the silhouette of Din’s body still passed out under the blankets and you’re thankful the squeaks and slams didn’t disturb him.

And then you take just a second to wonder if this is what it must be like for him.  Minus your obvious discomfort and ickiness at beginning to haul the corpse over to the carbonite chamber, it seems like it’d be reminiscent of any other time he’s brought back a dead quarry while you and the baby slept soundly.  Trying to be quiet, wanting it done and over with just to get back in bed that much faster, doing everything you can to prevent anything out there from so much as breathing on anything in here.

You do your best to hold on to the loveliness of the thought, because this part is the part you’re most anxious about.

The body needs to go into this slanted upright space so you can freeze it in carbonite.  And in order to do that, you have to grab it and put it there.  With your hands, you have to grab it.  With your hands.

You look down at its face, calm and at peace, frozen and forever etched into that expression, and something twists in your heart.  If it weren’t for the kid, that could’ve been Din.  If it weren’t for the kid walking barefoot through snow, fighting an uphill battle to make sure you get to him, helping you drag him back here and then overexerting himself to make sure he’d be okay, that could’ve been Din.  He drives you crazy on a consistent basis, but he came through today.

Know what?  If that little squirt can save a grown man’s life twice in a few hours, then the least you can do is finish this job for all three of you and fly your asses out of here.

Weirdly enough, being frozen solid allows for way better handling than the alternative.  It means you don’t actually have to touch it too much; you don’t have to deal with the limpness of death, it doesn’t seem as much like a person as it does a rigid board you’re simply moving from one place to another.  You can just grab the shoulders and yank and the entire fucking thing goes with it, solid and upright, naturally wanting to lean back into the chamber so you don’t even have to hold it in place.  The perfect quarry for you basically, day one stuff, as easy as it could get.

Almost done, almost done—you study the key panel on the upper-right frame before eventually pressing a few buttons, and then you step back as gas freezes and solidifies the corpse in its carbonite prison.

Yes.  You’re done.  You already want to take another shower just from touching it for a few seconds, but that can wait.  Quickly making your way up the ladder and into the cockpit, you fire up the thrusters and then navigate the ship through and beyond the swirling white atmosphere of this dreadful fucking planet, before punching in familiar coordinates to Nevarro.

***

“Din,” you murmur, making sure you have your eyes completely covered with one hand before gently easing the blanket down from his face with the other.  “Din, I want you to drink some wat—”

He jerks awake so suddenly that you hear the metal canteen fall over on the floor next to you, thank the Maker its lid is on tight.  You automatically reach out to steady him, pressing your free hand to his bare chest and continuing to speak calmly and gently to reassure him, but he still scrambles to take in his surroundings after sleeping longer than he probably has in weeks.  

You know what he’s seeing, even though you’re blind right now.  You took time to make sure everything was settled before waking him.  The hull is clean with only a single light to illuminate it, the baby is still snoozing in his closed crib, his armor is stacked in a neat pile, the blaster is put away, and you retired your makeshift blanket heater box so the only thing left is you.  Freshly showered, hair dripping, offering him water, and dressed in just a thin shirt with nothing else (you ran out of things to wear).

“Wh-Where’s my h-h-helmet—” is the first thing he asks, voice broken and raspy.  Stars, he needs water.

“The padding inside is wet,” you quickly supply, keeping your hand tight over the bridge of your eyes to make sure his freshly conscious mind immediately understands that you have no bad intentions.  “I swear I didn’t look, and I made sure the kid didn’t either.  He’s sleeping now, it’s just me—I swear nobody looked, I swear.”

You might just be saying the exact same thing over and over again and admittedly, that might be putting some weird kind of suspicion on you, but you just want to make sure he knows.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It’s important that he knows he’s safe and that everything is okay now, even if he collapsed and spent an unknown amount of time in a purgatory where nothing was.

His body trembles under your palm, waves of shudders attacking him even after hours of keeping him as warm as possible.  “Are—Are we st-still on H-Ho—H-Hoth—”

“No,” you answer.  “We’re in hyperspace.  Everything’s okay now, I took care of it.  We’ll get to Nevarro on time.”

It’s like he takes just a few extra moments, as if he’s trying extra hard to remember before responding.  “But—I d-didn’t—”

“You have four bodies for Karga,” you tell him, not letting him get too lost trying to recall something that no longer poses an issue.  “I took care of it.  You need rest, I only woke you up to make sure you drink some water, so please—” you blindly reach your hand out for the canteen you know has to be around here somewhere, but all you feel is…

His.  Catching yours.

“Y-You took c-c-care of…”  His hands are trembling harder than his voice.  “Sh-shit, I’m freezing, I—”

“Drink some water,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll go turn off the light so you can sleep more, but you need water.”

His hand feels like it doesn’t quite want to let go of yours yet, but eventually it does and you hear the sloshing of water as the metal flask is picked up with an unsteady grip.  Purposefully turning your back to him and making sure he’s not in your line of sight whatsoever, you finally let your hand drop and blink your eyes open at the wall across the hull.  You hear Din shakily unscrew the lid while you stand up and find the light switch, before turning around in the pitch blackness and using his loud gulps as your guide back.

Your hands and knees are barely on the blanket when you hear him toss the empty canteen to the side and grab you, pulling you down to him.  

Fuck, you’re not expecting it.  You fumble in the dark but he doesn’t really give your clumsiness much of a choice—Din pulls you under the blankets like he needs you, his body craving that warmth even though his skin doesn’t feel cold at all.  He hooks a strong forearm around your tummy, keeping your back pressed tight to his chest while the rest of him curls to fit every part of you, and you have to adjust the blankets yourself.

It’s not even a few seconds after you settle into position when his trembling hands jerk down to grab your shirt and yank it up.  You quickly scramble to help him get you as naked as he is, feeling his palms drag greedily across the heat of your tummy and breasts before you’ve even finished wiggling the fabric over your head.  The shirt lands somewhere in the darkness and you’re squeezed back against him, your hands landing on his forearms as they wrap around your waist and he clings shamelessly to you.

“You…”  Din’s body still shivers every once in a while but the heat and closeness allows his voice to even out just a bit.  He clears his throat and swallows, tucking his head and burying his face in your hair before trying again.  “You brought back the qu-quarry?”

“Yes,” you confirm, confident in your reassurance but gentle at the same time.  “It’s in carbonite.”

All you can feel or hear in response is his breathing.  His heart beating steady and strong against your back.

And then Din’s arms suddenly squeeze you tight—tight.  He lets out a low shaky exhale against the back of your shoulder and presses his lips to your skin.  “Sweet girl.”

And he says just… so much with those two words.  Slow and purposeful, the steadiest thing you’ve heard from him in hours.  But the two biggest competing emotions you hear tugging at his vocal cords are gratitude and apprehension.  Like he already knows that it couldn’t have been easy for you.  Like he’s not taking it lightly.

You don’t want to talk about it.  You don’t want to talk about anything that happened in the past few hours, not right now.  “It’s okay.  Please.”

This time his silence seems to be on the brink, as if he wants to say more but the extra plea you put on the end makes him hold onto his words, at least for now.  

“How d-did you find me?”  He asks instead, scooting his legs up enough that yours actually go with him.  Cradled in his naked body, radiating heat so he can recover, pressed so close to him that you feel like gravity itself would be pushing you into his lap if the world weren’t sideways.

“The kid,” you tell him.  “We were goofing around outside and he dragged me ov—”

It’s like he’s still so cold that even just the surprise of hearing you say that makes his whole body lock down and convulse a few times against your back.  “You were wh-what?”

“I was practicing,” you openly admit to him, feeling like the earlier events already occurred a lifetime ago and you have no reason for being shy about it anymore.  In fact, you’re glad you were there, being terrible at shooting.  The alternative is unthinkable.  Though, something tells you also improbable, having a little supernatural sidekick who cares so deeply for him.  “I raided your armory.  We weren’t outside for more than five minutes before I wanted to go back in, but then he found you.”

And you think he’s going to get after you, for some reason.  Seems about on par, you figure—going outside for even just a few minutes on a planet whose name you now remember is colloquial slang for hell, even if it’s the only reason he’s not an icicle right now.

But he’s just quiet.  Breathing.  So you just relax into him, thinking that’s the end of it.  You take a few deep breaths in through your nose and just… rest.  In the near perfect silence of hyperspace you used to find haunting, but now only find comfort in.  It reminds you of him.

“Did you hit the target?”  He asks you quietly, and at first you scoff, about to ask if he’s kidding.  No, of course you didn’t hit the…

Only, after a remarkable delay, hearing him phrase it that way suddenly makes your stomach decide to drop and do a fucking somersault on the ground out of absolutely nowhere.

Everything comes flooding back.  The conflict you used to think was the most pressing thing, the one that kept you awake and your thoughts scrambled for hours.  It feels like it was ages ago.  An entire lifetime has passed since that happened, you might’ve forgotten it altogether if he didn’t decide to ask that very simple question in a very specific way.

“I…” you mumble in response, your heart suddenly pounding.  “Not… not yet.”

Okay, that’s a good answer.  It’s the truth and you’re giving nothing away by saying that.  So now what is he going to say?  What is he going to say?  You spoke your piece, it’s his turn now, that’s how conversations work.  Well typically, that’s how conversations work—but with Din… you probably should’ve known.

He falls back into silence almost immediately, appearing to accept your answer just the way it is without anything else to add.  You feel his heart continue to beat strong against your back, but there’s something too tense about his stillness that doesn’t imply he’s relaxing anymore.  His body goes slightly taut, but not from the lingering chill in his bones.

He’s going to make you ask him, you realize.  He’s waiting until you confront him about his choice in words at the shooting range.  Which means he wasn’t just joking around.  He wasn’t just messing with you.

“Din…” you whisper uncertainly, and his face suddenly finds its way into the crook of your neck as soon as the word leaves your mouth, arms tightening up around you.  You spent forever trying to find the words to even bring this up, and here he is, already knowing exactly what you’re asking just by the tone of your voice.  Still, you ask anyway, sounding small and so unsure of yourself in the darkness.  “Why did you say that?  On Tatooine, why did you…”

Din’s chest expands against your back with a long, slow breath, and then he lets it out against your neck, hot enough to raise goosebumps all over your body.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, voice muffled and quiet, but it’s not… casual.  Not like he’s brushing you off or indicating he doesn’t want to talk about it, but like it’s actually a complete fucking mystery to him, just as much as it is to you.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” you repeat slowly.

“You had said something,” he mutters, shifting just a bit behind you.  His palm slides up your bare tummy, stopping in the warm spot just under the swell of your breast.  “Earlier that day.  I thought about it, and then I just… s-said it.”

You?  Said something that made him ask that?

“What?”  You blurt out, genuinely startled and having no fucking clue.  “What did I say?”

“Something about…”  He gives the smallest shudder from behind you, and you don’t actually know if this one is from the cold.  “Not wanting anyone else to know me the way you do.”

Your heart rapidly kicks up and you flush, hating how unbelievably possessive your own words sound coming out of his mouth.  “Oh shit, I… I didn’t mean for that to be… that sounds so bad, Din, I swear I didn’t mean for it to—”

He cuts you off by clutching you tighter, burying his face deeper into your neck and breathing out shakily.  “Tell me you meant every word.”

You blink a couple of times in the pitch black before sighing, letting go of any charade or front you think about putting up for him to save some dignity.  “I meant it.”

Because it’s the truth.  You said it when you were caught off guard, throwing it out to him along with other mindless drabble that came from a place that was very real.  You don’t like the way you phrased it, but you meant it.  You do mean it.  Every word.

If there weren't so many things still left unsaid right now, you might actually worry he fell asleep on you.  Din loosens up considerably after you admit it, letting go of more tightness you didn’t even know was inside him.  His head slowly drops from the crook of your neck to the back of it and he breathes hot air on your nape, quiet for a long time.

And, you suppose you’d actually be okay with it if that was the end of the conversation.  There are, of course, millions of things left to ask.  But he doesn’t know the answers, just as much as you’re left clueless about the questions.  You’re not expecting him to elaborate anymore, and if he’s waiting for you to ask, he’ll be waiting a long time.  Soon your eyes close and you almost feel yourself beginning to drift.  It’s been such a rough day today and to just be here in his arms, it’s more than enough for you.  

But then his low baritone comes through the darkness.

“In Mando’a,” Din’s voice suddenly whispers against your skin, “the verb, kar’taylir… it means to know.  Su kar’tayli, you know, kaysh kar’tayli, they know.  Ni ke kar’tayl nu… I don’t know.”

Your eyes pop open and you immediately forget all about sleep, wide awake and suddenly hanging onto every word as it rolls so gently off his tongue.  You’ve never heard the language spoken aloud, you’ve never heard anything about the Mandalorians directly from one before.  All of the stories seem sensationalized, passed down by word of mouth and chipping away at the kernel of truth until it disappears completely.

“The language is dying,” Din continues, murmuring soft and gentle along your nape.  “By the time I learned it, too many words had been lost.  The ones left were the ones that were needed.”

“What do you mean?”  You whisper, almost afraid of breaking the quiet.  Not wanting him to feel distracted or pressed, but needing to express your curiosity lest you somehow overflow with it.

“There are only three pronouns,” he answers slowly, and you’re already fucking fascinated.  “Ni, for I or we.  Su is you or you all, and kaysh is third person.  Subjective, objective, possessive, singular, plural—doesn’t matter.  Three words, for every individual or collective in the entire galaxy.”

You blink in the darkness, your logic telling you that it sounds so simple it’d become confusing and then your logic also telling you that doesn’t actually make any fucking sense at all.  If that’s true, it’s unbelievable.  How do they differentiate?  Just context?

“How do you distinguish?”  You ask him.  Admittedly, you don’t know much about linguistics—not anywhere near the extent he does, but it seems so counterintuitive.  I can’t be the same word for we, the amount of misunderstandings would be a nightmare.

“We… don’t need to,” he explains to you, slowly, like nobody has ever asked him these things before and so he’s unsure how to phrase it.  “Individuality isn’t valued, it’s not a concept.”

And… you almost can’t wrap your head around it.  “What do you mean?”  You ask again, knowing you’re sounding like a broken record without specifying more, but trying with your whole heart to understand.

“I mean… we swear oaths to never reveal our faces,” Din tells you, something you shouldn’t need to be reminded of.  “We abandon our names.  We become… whispers, of the same voice.  There’s not many words in Mando’a with a unique meaning, almost all of them are homonyms.  Interchangeable.  Transient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, suddenly blown away by the implication.  Almost all of them are homonyms?  How in Maker’s name are you even supposed to communicate at that point?  That’s… unthinkable.

“Most words have two meanings?”  You clarify, wanting to be absolutely sure you’re getting it right.

“Most have five or six,” he returns, and you’re downright shocked now.  “Everything just depends.”

“Stars…”  You breathe, moving a palm up the length of his forearm and holding the back of his hand with it.  Fuck, you hope this is the direction he’s intending instead of veering him off course, but you’re incredibly invested.  “What else does, uh… kay—er, kar… kar’taylir mean?”

Din lets out a slow breath from behind you, and you can… you can feel his own heart beating faster when it presses up against your spine at the apex of his inhale.  “It’s… a rare word, it only has two meanings.”

You bite your lip and start to feel butterflies in your stomach for some reason.  Slowly, his hand begins to travel up your breast and then to your sternum before heading just the slightest bit left, and your own hand moves with him.

“To know,” Din says quietly, “but also… to care very deeply for.”  He doesn’t stop until his palm presses right above the rapidly pounding organ in your chest.  “To hold in the heart.”

“To know,” you swallow thickly, curling your fingers around his hand and praying he’s saying what you think he is, “or… to love?”

“When Mandalorian’s take vows, there’s no ceremony,” he whispers into the back of your neck.  “No witnesses, no celebrations.  We just take our helmets off in front of the other and look.  It doesn’t sound like much, but… our secrecy is our survival.  Letting someone see our face and swearing lifelong devotion to them, it’s the same thing.  To know is to love.”

Your eyes close tight and your lungs empty themselves, too full of emotion to even fit oxygen inside you anymore.  Din’s lips press feather soft behind your neck, and now you’re the one shivering uncontrollably.  The move up and trail along your neck in the darkness.

“Ni kar'tayl su,” he murmurs, shifting back just slightly and pulling at your shoulder.  “I know you.”

You go with him, facing the ceiling as he fits his head under your throat and places slow, open mouth kisses down the curve of it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he goes on quietly, his voice starting to sound raspy again, dragging his hand down your torso while his lips brush your collarbone.  “For an eternity, I’ll know you.”

Water wets the corners of your lashes and you inhale three or four times before exhaling, shallow hiccups and desperate for air.

“Ni ke vaabi nu kaysh ke kar’taylir su te ni kar’tayl su.”  Din says, slowly moving his mouth back up when your fingers tangle in his hair and beg him to come that way.  The words dance along your skin as he whispers them, forever searing themselves into your memory.  You can’t see them, you’ll never have a visual to reminisce upon, but you’ll know how they felt.  Right under your ear, brimming with quiet devotion.  “I don’t want anyone else to know you… the way I know you.”

Your face goes blazing hot at the sound of him translating your own rushed and half-assed sentence into something gorgeous and flowing, something that sounds so much more beautiful than when you blurted it out earlier.  You told him you loved him in that hangar, right to his face.  Unashamed and stupid about it, but meaning it with every part of your body.

“I knew you’d say no,” he finally admits, staying in this one spot.  Unmoving.  Telling you the truth, allowing you to know it.  “I just wanted to… say it.”

That… that makes sense to you.  The last part does, at least, it makes so much sense to you.  The first time you said you loved him, you said it just to say it.  You wanted to feel the words, sound them out even if neither one of you could hear them.  It felt freeing, like coming to accept a universal truth.

The first part, though.  You’re still behind.  “You knew I’d say no?”  You ask him, feeling him ease back just slightly.  Staring down at you through the pitch black, even if he can’t see either.  Keeping his palm over your heart as the ship hurdles through nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You wouldn’t take my first name without convincing,” he reasons quietly, and then moves back to lay in the blankets once more, leaving the rest unspoken.

But he’s… oh stars, he’s so right.  If he’s going to take his helmet off and let you see his face—if he’s going to commit to you that way, it is not going to be because you shoot a blaster correctly.  Not after today, not after what he’s told you.

So you move up to your elbow and turn to face him, trying to let him know why even if he’s already guessed the what correctly.

“I want it to mean something,” you say after a moment.  “I want it to… have the meaning it’s supposed to have.”

Your palm finds its way to his chest in the silence following.  Right over the beating of his heart, feeling it thrum hard and rhythmic while he considers his response.

“This is The Way,” Din finally murmurs, settling his hand over yours, and you repeat the words back to him.  Respecting them.  Feeling like, for the very first time, they now apply to you in some way instead of belonging to some mysterious creed you’ll never know anything about.

But when a shudder subtly rockets up and down his body, you realize the blankets have been pulled down with the changing positions and his whole torso is bare and exposed to the hull.  So you pull them up until you’re both covered again, before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Din shudders again when your mouth opens and the hot glide of your tongue catches his skin, but you know it’s not from the cold this time.  His breathing deepens while you slowly move over him.  You ease him further on his back and let him keep feeling the warmth of your mouth on his body, alleviate the lingering chill by sucking gentle hickeys into his skin and feeling the goosebumps raise under your tongue.  He moves with you; he stretches his neck when you want to nibble his collarbone, arches when you mouth down his chest, shifts his elbow to let you drag your tongue along his ribcage.

And… and it’s as if all the stars and systems hold even more still for you than the relative physics of faster-than-light travel can explain away by themselves.  You’ve always felt timeless in here, living from one fleeting eternity to the next, suspended in perpetuity while the rest of the galaxy ages without you.  But when you’re with him and it’s pitch black and there’s no light to streak across your vision, no evidence that time and space have all but disconnected from each other just to let your insignificant little bodies through… it’s like you’re meant to be here.  In some strange, unexplainable way, you feel like you could’ve died out there with him in the frozen wasteland today and this is exactly where you’d still end up, no matter what.

To know is to love.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself whisper under his jaw, and you feel Din’s fingers thread in your hair and ease you up enough to brush his lips against your chin.

“Yes,” he whispers back, and then his mouth is on yours.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #fanfic #star wars fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #no-droids #reader insert

[markswhore]

nct dream + anal sex:

genre: smut (read: filth)

warnings: uhhh, anal sex?

requested: yes.

a/n: i went off with this one so it's super long lmao. me being me, i also accidentally posted the incomplete draft, panicked and then deleted the entire thing, having had to start from scratch again. but this was fun, i've always wanted to write anal so tysm to the anon who requested this. hope you like it <3

also, this isn't proofread and there's probably a shit load of typos and grammatical errors but kindly look past them <3

smut for 7dream under the cut. read at your own discretion.

Mark 》》

the type to be really into it, but also be super shy to bring it up.

mark's an ass guy through and through so it's not at all surprising that he has a thing for anal and has always wanted to try it.

what is surprising, however, is how the shy, stuttering and blushing mess from a few days- scratch that, a few moments ago is now nowhere to be seen.

not with the way he has a vibrator shoved up your pussy as he takes your ass for hours at a stretch.

although he may begin with a painstakingly slow pace, with the visual of your ass jiggling, the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt and the tightness of your unused hole sucking all of him in, he is bound to lose control and start pounding into your ass with every last fibre of his being.

also, anal with mark probably happens quite often so say goodbye to both sitting and walking for...

days? weeks? who knows?

Renjun 》》

the type to be into it to assert dominance.

renjun undoubtedly fucks your ass every single time you try to tease him or get him jealous.

think of it as his way to remind you who really calls the shots in your relationship.

although you both know it's actually 'you' because he wouldn't even so much as mention anal sex ever again if you weren't okay with it and gave him the green signal the very first time.

he may be a dom *cough* hard!dom *cough* but he's a gentleman who's madly in love with you so your comfort comes before anything else.

speaking of him being a hard!dom, he'd want to be in total control from the very first second he enters you, railing into you as he tugs your hair, but-

BUT! there's a but people,,,

mr. renjun here would lose his sanity less than a minute after he enters you because of how you clench and unclench around him. his thrusts would get erratic and he'd be on the edge of his high, releasing his cum inside you soon after.

to put it simply, your tight fucking hole will be the death of him, yep.

Jeno 》》

the type to do it when he is stressed.

jeno is the purest, loveliest, kindest, most caring boyfriend ever, always treating you like you're fragile, calling you his princess and what not :(

always, except when he is troubled at work because then, things turn a total 180°, atleast in bed, they do.

it was your idea; your suggestion to try anal and when you had mentioned it, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. he immediately shut you down, reasoning that you didn't have to do that for him and that he didn't want to end up unintentionally hurting you.

but you, of course, had managed to reassure him that you'd be fine and that you would be able to take him well (you basically dirty talked your way) and he agreed; after assigning you a safe word, that is.

and that leads you to where you'll generally find yourself when he's had a troubled day.

having had a bad day at work, he makes sure to take all of it out on you and the normal gentleness and care is long gone. you're bent over the bathroom counter, stretched on his fat cock as he pounds into you from behind.

he holds onto your hips with a grip tight enough to leave bruises while his other hand remains tangled in your hair, forcing you to look at your ruined, fucked out self in the mirror.

tears stream down your face as you maintain eye contact through the glass and he groans as your stretched hole flutters around him.

in conclusion? although you need to be prepped A LOT, you take him well; you take him just as well as you told him you would.

Haechan 》》

the type to do it because it is exciting.

haechan loves anal because of how it is considered a tabboo; the very thought of you letting him do something so 'sinful' to you excites him way more than it should.

he makes sure he fucks your ass every chance he gets; that he has stretched you open in every single room of your apartment at least once.

loves, loves, LOVES it when you let him hit it raw and loves seeing his cum ooze out of your tiny hole after he's used it to his heart's content. he then, 4 out of 5 times, proceeds to eat your ass until you're shaking and crying underneath him because-

a. he is filthy like that and

b. your boy also has a dacryphilia kink.

definitely see him dirty talking and degrading you so so so much because this is haechan we're talking about and as for you, well- "you're always willing to spread your legs for me."

all in all, as much as he loves all three (3) of your holes, your ass is his absolute favorite.

Jaemin 》》

the type to do it for the physical and emotional closeness.

even when he approaches you with the question, he is so gentle, so caring, so respectful. he rubs his thumb on your cheeks and places a kiss on your forehead, assuring you that it is okay to say no, that you don't need to do anything you dislike.

you, of course, smile and nod as you agree to it and that has jaemin on cloud nine. he whispers 'thank yous' and 'i love yous', gently pecking you all over your face :(

he'd be so soft and so considerate, moaning into your ears about how you, his beautiful girl, were doing so good for him. he'd gently rub your clit and place kisses on you neck, occasionally taking your nipples into his mouth and sucking on it.

since it's all about the intimacy to him, about how much you love and trust him, he makes sure you're comfortable and feeling loved and beautiful every second of the way.

"it's just as much about you feeling good as it is about me, love." ;(

basically, as usual, it would be nana being the bestest boy ever.

Chenle 》》

the type to do it only to punish you.

while jaemin is all about being soft, chenle on the other hand? not so much. he's a thorough hard!dom in every aspect and that includes punishments.

he'd surely spank your ass and leave bright red imprints as he comes inside your ass. he'd then replace his cock with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you (CREAMPIE!) while you arch your back, sobbing at the overstimulation.

once he's done shoving all of his cum back inside, he'd insert a vibrating butt plug and have you keep it inside you until he says so.

HE'D ALSO BE HUGE ON AFTERCARE THO- kissing your eyelids and constanstly apologising for being too rough, while you'd simply lay spent in his arms with a loving smile on your face.

Jisung 》》

the type to initially dislike the idea.

he'd seen it in porn,

and heard about it from the other boys,

and he'll admit he was a little taken aback in the beginning, not really liking the idea of sticking his dick inside your ass.

but that was until you decided to confront him about it, confessing that anal was one of your biggest fantasies.

he hadn't really agreed or disagreed to it but when you were met with nothing but pin drop silence, you assumed it to be the latter and decided to stop thinking about it.

it was difficult,,, but you managed.

loverboy jisung on the other hand,,, he couldn't really stop replaying the scenes from the movie he'd initially found weird, only this time, he imagined himself as the guy and pictured the girl to be you.

it wasn't so weird anymore. in fact, if anything, it had his dick straining against his pants in no time.

so the next time he sees you, he's a stuttering mess, tips of his ears tinted red.

for an entire hour, you plead him to tell you what he's thinking about (listen, you aren't clingy; you do you give him space. it's just that with the way he 'rejected' the idea of anal the last time, you were worried he found you weird and was going to break up with you or something)

so aren't you pleasantly surprised when he's the one suggesting it this time ;) you tease him a little by not replying- oh how the tables have turned- but then when he begins apologising profusely, you kiss him mid-sentence.

one thing leads to another and you're now sat on his lap with his dick buried deep in your ass. you rub your clit in circles as jisung slowly thrusts into you from below, sucking your tits like a baby.

with your foreheads pressed against each other and soft moans and groans filling the air, you shed a few tears that he oh so gently- wipes away with his thumb.

it is something incredibly special to both you and him, no wonder you guys have it reserved for the valentines, birthdays and anniversaries.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream headcanons #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct headcanons #mark smut #nct mark smut #mark lee smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #renjun smut #renjun x reader #haechan smut #hyuck smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #chenle smut #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #jisung smut #nct jisung smut #chenle x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #na jaemin #mark lee #nct dream

[jiminrings]

ok liSTEN how about for drabble nights stem major jungkook n he's cute or whuteva

ft. cold senior!y/n having a crush on shy stem major!koo :D neither can initiate nor maintain eye contact lmao

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist

never in a million years did you think that you’d be stressing over and shopping lunchboxes at a saturday night

“you’re insane. you must be insane for doing this.”

yoongi deadpans because never did he think that HE’D be the one to accompany you to a 24/7 supermarket to look for lunchboxes

to look.... for lunchboxes

it’s an uncanny friendship really bUT it’s functional

you’re on the soccer team and yoongi’s a varsity chess player :D

the two of you shared an equivalent of one (1) bagel on field day and that’s when the matching-friendship-bracelets friendship began

you wear the red string as an anklet though because it’s a charm when you kick the ball right through the goal

yoongi will not hesitate to give you his kidney but he wILL complain the whole time when you coax him into helping you pick out a lunchbox

“it’s just a tiny simple crush. it’s not like i’m asking for his hand in marriage.”

fuck it

you mIGHT like jeon jungkook :((

he’s your junior and you only see him in like two classes but there’s just something in him that makes you want to pinch his cheeks

you barely see him anyways because you’re a student athlete and he just had to be a goddamn stem student that’s almost always cooped up in the classrooms

uhhh the two of you actually nEVER really had a proper interaction but that’s besides the point

jungkook always sits upfront and you could see his fluffy round hair all the way to your row!!!

and the way he giggles is just so heavenly!!! at a dorky joke your teacher just said that you don’t even give a pity laugh to :O

“not the ‘making lunches for your crush’ thing. it’s just that you’re doing the first move and practically everyone knows that you dON’T do the first move!!!”

oh

yeah that

uh that may or may not be true

when someone is about to walk right into you in the hallways, you keep walking and they’d just have to be the one who dodges your path

you could literally stare down at your opponent in soccer the whole time until they make the first move and that would eventually set them up

in group projects????? you aren’t a bad groupmate of course but you for sure are nOT the one who makes the groupchat nor make the initiative on what to do first

do you have anything to say?? absolutely not

yoongi’s caught you speechless at 1 in the morning, between the aisles of tupperware and trash bags then plungers

“shut up. just help me pick one out,” you mumble under your breath as you raise up four lunchboxes 

“an electric one or a matte baby blue one?” 

ok to be fair those are tWO really good ones

the electric’s perfect so the meals would still be warm and your efforts at cooking would be maximized

the baby blue’s actually cute and it matches one of jungkook’s sweaters

“oR do we get the one with the tiny little dna strands, or the one you could doodle on?”

uh-huh

right that’s settled

you’ve ended up buying FIVE lunchboxes for every day of the week :D

all is entirely good, really

it’s fallen into a routine and almost the entire floor knows that jungkook from stem has an admirer!!! :D

a very persistent yet sneaky admirer that puts lunchboxes on his desk, with whatever doodle on a sticky note with his name on top, for the past two weeks

he always leaves his lunchbox by his desk and no one dares to steal it because he’s a wholesome guy ya know

it’s like the equivalent of stealing a painting from bob ross and eVERYONE likes bob ross enough that they wouldn’t hurt a single hair on him

you would actually evaporate if someone knew of your identity.,.

you would pass oUT on the spot like literally

sometimes you think that this is a bad idea because what are you doing!!!!! jungkook’s a stem student slash heartthrob that everyone likes!!!!! and he’s been getting lunchboxes for two weeks and it’s quite publicized!!!!!!

the school paper should nOT have a slow news day to the extent that they’d cover jungkook and his mystery admirer

rip you

“you know, we talked about jungkook in chess practice today.”

yoongi opens up the topic while the both of you are peeling up tangerines just after your workout at the shared gym, a completely casual look on his face

you don’t question why cHESS players are also entitled to the school gym but uh that’s okay

“and how does this concern me?”

yoongi snorts because he seems like he’s just been dYING for you to ask him that, taking his sweet time at eating his fruit

“because jungkook doesn’t actually eat your lunches, dummy.”

...... what now

“but they’re always so clean when he returns them on his desk!” you straighten up from your position on the floor, half-confused and half-nervous to what yoongi is entailing

“that’s because he gives them to his friends. or shares them? maybe most of the time? i’m not sure. jimin told me that your tonkatsu was really delicious.”

jimin, one of the guys in chess club, may have slipped and let everyone know that he just had the best lunch in his lifetime

that was coincidentally from jungkook’s meal... from his lunchbox.... from your cooking

oh

so does that mean that all this time

uhm

oh my god why are your eyes damp

“h-he hasn’t been eating them?”

yoongi expected you to be bummed (and you deserved to know the truth anyways) but he didn’t expect for you to tEAR up so that’s why he’s a little shocked rn

he’s awkwardly hugging you on the floor and he doesn’t know what to do

but you do 

:(((

this week, your mornings start much later than it has been for the past two weeks because you only have one meal to prepare and it’s yours

your evenings end earlier too because you’re not searching up, planning, then watching recipes in advance for the next days

your afternoons end abruptly too because you don’t have to stay behind to collect a damn lunchbox 

it’s better.

this is better.

“you must be fucking shitting me right now!”

[ it is apparently not better ]

no one expected that there would be a day in which they get to hear jeon jungkook, shy and most-prized stem-student, yELLING in frustration and mumbling expletives while pacing back and forth

but uh it’s here!!!!!! it’s here!!!!

“who the fuck keeps stealing my lunchboxes?!”

he’s tugging at his hair and pointing to his clearly empty desk

his friends are all a little ???? right now because the professor’s about to come in any second now and their friend, and now their group by extension, is garnering qUITE the attention right now

jungkook is grumpy and sad and god he is tearing up right now because his week hasn’t been the best and it’s now friday and the only thing that’s been keeping him sane are lunchboxes

lunchboxes that haven’t been given to him for a wEEK and now he’s just so frustrated

he may have taken them for granted at first but now he realizes that it was a part of his day he looked forward to :((( a-and even the meals were top-notch and he’d realize that if he just didn’t dismiss them to his friends like no big deal :(((

“give it back, please.”

oh my god

you are seated frozen at your ass as you watch jungkook have a meltdown over his situation 

you never really expected this reaction, honestly

......... literally what now :O

drabble nights: open!!

#drabble nights #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabbles #stem koo #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au

[dongofthewolf]

Hiii! Can I request no.9 from the cliché prompts and fake dating au?

Making Amends

Abby Anderson x Reader

Prompts: 9. “There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling” 18. Fake dating au

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hint of angst, Owen and Mel slander (sry I had to)

No pronouns are mentioned for the reader

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: Both tropes are literally my favourite things ever and it was so fun to write so ty for requesting it. It ended up way longer than I intended so uhhh yeah hope you enjoy LOL (esp if you requested it)!!

“What the hell Abby?! Have you been telling people that we’re dating?” You had cornered Abby into a secluded hallway, trapping her against the wall with your finger on her chest accusingly.

There was a flicker of fear in Abby’s eyes as she chewed on her lip nervously. Abby was considerably stronger than you and you probably looked like a mouse trying to intimidate a lion, but you didn’t care.

Abby couldn’t meet your burning gaze, all she replied with was a prolonged “Uhhhhhh”.

“Abigail Anderson, answer me right now or I swear to God-” It was rare for you to whip out her full name. And maybe it was kind of a cheap move, but it was a cheap move that almost always worked.

“Fine!” Abby interrupted, letting out a short sigh and preparing herself for the worst. “I kind of told Owen we were dating and I'm pretty sure he’s been telling other people.”

She said the words as quickly as possible, closing her eyes like a bomb was about to go off. Your reaction wasn't far off to say the least.

“You what? Why the fuck would you tell him we’re dating?” There was venom in your words and Abby flinched just slightly.

You were angry, incredibly so. You and Abby have always been close friends, or more so you had been until she started dating Owen. At first it was small things; cancelling plans or leaving early because she was busy and you completely understood. It’s not like you didn’t want her to hang out with him, and obviously you wanted her to be happy, but eventually it got to a point where she hardly ever spoke to you. Aside from the occasional greetings in the busy stadium, it was like you guys had never even been friends.

Now, after completely ignoring you for the past months, she decided it was a good idea to tell people that you guys were dating? It only seemed right for you to be pissed off.

“I just... Everyone kept looking at me like some sad puppy dog because I broke up with Owen, which normally I can handle. But every single day I kept getting the same sad fucking looks and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told them I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name but they kept prying, and prying and you were the first person that popped into my mind. I’m really sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything at first, instead you looked at Abby without a hint of emotion on your face, and even less in your tone when you did finally speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?”

Abby paused, she didn’t know what response she was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. “I um, I figured you knew. Pretty much everyone in the stadium knows.”

“Yeah well… I didn’t.” You were quiet. A part of you was angry and annoyed, but another part of you pitied Abby. She had never been one to lie, especially about something as petty as this.

Before you could think of something to say, Abby broke the silence. “Listen, I know you probably hate me right now, but I need to ask you a small favour.”

“Seriously?” You nudged Abby’s chest, pushing her into the wall again. The pity quickly dissipated to nothing, leaving you once again with a seething rage.

“Look, I know things between us haven’t been ideal but-“

“Haven’t been ideal?!” You interrupted, the absolute ignorance in her words tipping you off the edge. “Abby, you threw me away like I was trash! We were friends and you left me to hang out with Owen. I didn’t even know you guys broke up because you don’t tell me shit anymore!”

“I’ll do anything Y/N, okay? I’ll do your laundry, clean your room, I’ll even take your shifts for patrols.” Abby’s hands were on your forearms as she spoke. “Please just do this one thing for me and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying you back.” There was sincerity in Abby’s face, a hint of desperation too.

You paused. What could Abby possibly want so badly that she’d be willing to do all this for you? Even though you were angry at her, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit intrigued.

“I’ll do anything Y/N, please. There must be something that you want.” Abby pleaded, absolute seriousness in her eyes.

“What I want is to never see you again.” Your finger was pointed at her chest again, poking her lightly.

Immediately you could see the hurt on Abby’s face. Okay, maybe that was a little bit harsh (and kind of petty) but you weren’t just gonna let Abby off that easily. Not after everything she’s done.

“Fine…” Abby paused to contemplate her next words, wiping the sadness from her face. “Fine, after tonight if you do this thing for me, we’ll never have to see each other again, I promise. I just need you to come to this party with me. We don’t have to talk or hold hands or anything and you can spend the whole night hating me, but I just need you there.”

“I-“ You couldn't do that. You couldn’t just pretend and lie to all of Abby’s friends for a whole night… Could you?

“Please Y/N. It’s embarrassing, okay? When we broke up, Mel immediately jumped in to fill my space. Everyone knew it and I had to pretend like I didn’t care so people would stop treating me like a wounded animal. If they find out I lied about you? I don’t think they’ll ever stop seeing me that way.”

You looked at Abby and felt a tinge of sympathy, she looked so sad and desperate, and for a second you even considered it. One night couldn’t hurt, right? Wait, no.

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to snap yourself out of it. You were not going to give in that easily. Nope. This was Abby, the same girl who threw away your friendship like it was nothing, and you were not going to let her use you like this. Not even while she’s looking at you with those sad, blue eyes. Nope, you’re mad, you’re angry, you’re-

“Fine.” Fuck.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Abby’s eyes lit up as she wrapped her arms around you, lifting you into the air while she let out a breath of relief.

What did you just get yourself into?

—

“I can sleep on the floor, it's really no problem.” Abby offered, there was a slight nervousness in her tone as she stood in front of you shifting her weight on the balls of her feet.

“Abby, that’s stupid. It’s not like I’m infected or something.” You huffed, reaching for the box of matches to light the candle next to you.

Sometime after the party there had been a power outage and the entire WLF base went lights out. Meaning there was no heat and most annoyingly, no lights.

After a night of uncomfortable looks and even more uncomfortable conversations in which you spent most of the party trying to avoid Abby’s friends, she was walking you back to your room when everything suddenly went dark.

The both of you practically crawled to your room before you could locate a light source of some kind. It had been an hour since the power went out and you insisted that Abby sleep in your room, for… safety purposes.

You shook the match till it was out, suddenly you were thankful for impulse buying those candles last week.

“It’s fine, I’ll just crawl halfway across the stadium until I find my room. No biggie.” You couldn’t tell if she was joking, but something in you felt like she would actually do it if you didn’t insist she stay here.

You sighed. “Just sleep here Abs, it’s easier and I’m offering. Plus, I don’t need you army crawling across the entire WLF base. It’s hard on the arms, even for someone as strong as you.”

“You think I’m strong?” Abby smiled teasingly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, looking away as you tried to hide the small grin on your face. God, it was hard to stay mad at Abby.

“Shut up and take the bed.” You could tell Abby was reluctant but she still plopped herself onto your bed. She sat awkwardly on the edge, unsure of how this was going to work.

You tried to ignore Abby’s weird energy as you buried yourself beneath the covers. It took a minute for her to actually lay down in the bed but when she did, she was careful to keep her distance. It was pretty funny (and pretty cute) how unsure she was.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Abby whisper your name softly, almost like she wasn’t sure if you could hear her.

Nuzzling your nose into your pillow you whispered back a small “Yeah?”.

“Thank you.” You could hear the genuity in Abby’s voice, how grateful she was for such a simple act and suddenly it hit you, you didn’t want her to leave you alone. You missed this—missed Abby.

Instead of responding you nudged her foot lightly with yours. It was something you guys had done as kids, like a silent way of saying “I’m here.”. Under the dinner table with the Fireflies or during training when you first joined the WLF; it was an unspoken thing between the both of you. An action that spoke much louder than words possibly could.

The both of you laid on opposite ends of the bed, your backs turned to each other. You shifted under the sheets before finally finding a comfortable position, you fell asleep that night to the steady sound of Abby’s breathing.

—

You were first to wake up, confusion washing over you when you felt your head rising and falling. Why the hell was your pillow moving? Then it hit you; it wasn’t the bed moving, it was Abby. Your head lay resting on Abby’s chest, her arm over your back while your limbs were wrapped around her like a giant stuffed animal. The sound of her beating heart was soft in your ears and you could feel her breath coming out in steady increments, blowing lightly against your head.

You weren’t sure what to do about your compromising position. It was already too late for you to leap out of her arms and a large part of you didn’t want to move anyways. So you decided to pretend to sleep until she woke up. That way you wouldn’t have to decide what to do, she would.

Abby woke up shortly after you, you could tell she was awake by the way her breath hitched in her throat upon noticing how you guys were situated. However, instead of jumping out of the bed in a panic, Abby didn’t move either, and it took everything in you to not open your eyes.

After a few moments of stillness, you almost thought she had fallen back asleep. It wasn’t until you felt a light touch on your temple that you realized she was awake. The touch so light you nearly missed it when Abby brushed a small strand of hair away from your face.

Then slowly, Abby pried you off of her and you nearly let a small groan slip from your lips when you felt the absence of her warmth. She gently rolled you over, covering you with the blanket before walking into the bathroom.

That’s when it happened: the ache. A sharp, jarring ache in your heart that you only felt with her— that you haven’t felt since the two of you were best friends. It had left you when you and Abby stopped talking, but it returned just the same when you witnessed the tenderness of her actions. You never thought to put a name to this feeling (and maybe a part of you didn’t want to), but it was near impossible to ignore it.

You couldn’t possibly be harbouring secret feelings for Abby, right? You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts, it was way too early to be worrying about these things.

Feigning tiredness you rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You knocked on the door and when Abby opened it you noticed she was in the process of redoing her braid.

You leaned against the doorway as you watched her skilled fingers work. “Abs?”

“Hm?” She replied as she tied off the end of her braid.

“I didn’t really mean what I said to you last night… about never wanting to see you again. I’m sorry.” You picked at your thumb anxiously, eyes wandering around the room, looking anywhere but at Abby.

Abby turned to face you, letting the braid fall to her side. “You don’t have to apologize Y/N, I deserve it. I didn’t even hesitate to leave you when Owen and I started dating, and I was-“

“Stupid?” You finished for her, looking up from the floor to meet Abby’s gaze.

“Stupid. And for what it's worth, I’ve really missed hanging out with you Y/N, even if it is under these circumstances.”

“You know… I think I know a way you can make it up to me, if you’re still up for it?” Abby looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you noticed the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

“Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“You see, there’s this guy that’s been trying to ask me out for weeks even though I keep rejecting him.” You gave Abby a tiny grin as you continued. “Well, maybe if he found out I was dating a certain soldier who could pound his ass into the ground, then he’d leave me alone.”

Abby nodded her head nonchalantly as she took a small step towards you, crossing her arms across her chest. “You know what’s crazy? I think I have just the person for you.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #requests #fluff #a little bit angsty #I’m big gay