#literally this is the shortest list i could POSSIBLY come up with and i even skipped a few faves like the poly mod!!! sighs

[amatchinwater]

Red String / Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (soulmate AU)

Summary: At nineteen, everyone's red string that ties them to their soulmate appears on their pinkies. You find out in the middle of a Hellfire campaign that it's attached to Eddie, your childhood best friend. Nervous that he might not want you, you lie about it. Being able to see your soulmates string, Eddie confronts you later at your place.

Warnings: 18+(seriously, I will block you), explicit sexual content (fingering, oral m and f receiving, deep throating, p in v sex), unprotected sex (reader on pill, but seriously, wrap it before you tap it people), light angst with a happy ending, slight dom!Eddie, choking, what could be seen as subspace, aftercare

Words: 4033

a/n: I've been having so much fun with these ideas. Working on a part 2 for Collecting Strays! And have a song fic coming too. Send a request if you'd like to my loves 💚 (Master list)

Not my gif, credit to creator!!

You knew.

Right down to the fucking minute you turned nineteen years old, you knew. Eddie Munson was your soul mate. You watched that night during the group’s latest Hellfire campaign. They were willing to postpone it because it was your birthday, but there wasn’t anything better you could think to do spend your night doing. To be perfectly honest, the only reason you were paying so close attention was because everyone kept pestering you about it showing up. 

Dustin was all too excited about it. Saying that he’d remembered the day Steve saw his string show up. That he wanted nothing more than another one of his best friends to be one step closer to happiness. It’s almost like he’d expected you to drop everything and run blindly until you find the source of it or something. 

What you weren’t prepared for was it to show up and be quite possibly the shortest string in existence. Because from where you sat beside Eddie, your pinkies were not even two inches apart from one another. You noticed it before anyone else, seeing as they were thankfully preoccupied from a dragon guarding its keep. Your eyes widened when Eddie just so happened to move his hand to his face and you could see the string grow. 

Eddie’s twenty. He’s had to have known of his string’s existence prior to now. Which leads you to believe that he knows that it’s attached to you. And has said nothing about it. Not even a peep. That doesn’t really sit right with you. Because that translates to Eddie doesn’t want you. To be frank, why would he? 

You two practically grew up together. Your trailers are all of three lots away from one another. There’s literally pictures of you two in the bathtub together when you were still in diapers. There isn’t a single person in the room, probably not even yourself, that knows you better than he does. And you’re far from the cheerleader type that Eddie seems to be attracted to. Like Chrissy Cunningham, his latest conquest. Whereas she’s all ponytails and cheer uniforms, if you wear a skirt, much like tonight, it’s with torn fishnets and combat boots. 

So when Dustin noticed the way your eyes widened at your pinky finger, he lit up with excitement. And you lied through your teeth, saying that it headed towards the door before fading. Trying to make it seem like it couldn’t be anyone in the room at the very least. But Dustin only shook it off, saying that the same thing happened to Steve. You could feel Eddie’s eyes burning into the side of your face the whole time. 

It put you on edge for the remainder of the night. 

He only seemed more ruthless in his duty as Dungeon Master. 

Only Erica made it out alive.

You didn’t know what to think about any of it. So when it was time to leave, you all but bolted out the door and drove straight home. Barely even saying goodbye to the troup calling after you in your haste.

Sitting in silence wasn’t ever something you were really capable of doing. So you shoved your favorite Metallica tape in your cassette player and hoped to every god that it would drown your thoughts out. You’ve rewound the tape to listen to For Whom the Bell Tolls about four times already before you decide to grab a drink from the kitchen. Yanking open the fridge, the fluorescent light illuminates the string around your pinky as you grab a can of mountain dew. 

Glaring at the thread angrily, you slam the fridge closed. Popping the tab on the can, you bring the drink to your lips only to be startled by your front door being shoved open. You only barely manage to not spill it on yourself as Eddie storms into your house, not even looking at you as he stalks down the hallway. 

“What the fuck, Eds? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” You call after him, trying to yell over the music. Which he promptly turns off. “What the fuck?” You repeat, putting your drink on the counter to follow him. It’s not like he’s unwelcome in your place, but what the fuck kind of entrance was that? “What’s your deal?”

“Why’d you lie?” Eddie asks where you find him pacing around your room, biting his nail, leather jacket and vest discarded on your bean bag chair. 

You bite away the knee jerk ‘hello to you too,’ as confusion pulls your eyebrows together. You don’t recall lying to him about anything. At least not directly. “What?” 

“Henderson,” Eddie pulls his thumb out of his mouth, stopping in his tracks to look at you wildly. “Why did you lie to Henderson?” Shock stills your features and all you can do is stare at him like a deer in the headlights. “Your string,” he doesn’t point to your finger, rather wiggles his own, “you know exactly where it goes. Did you think I couldn’t see it after it appeared on your hand? Did you think I wouldn’t care? Do you not want me?” 

His words sound accusatory and you can’t for the life of you imagine why. Being with Eddie would be the best thing you could possibly ask for. You’ve been in love with the guy ever since fourth grade and he punched Jason in the face for pulling your braid. But not once in the entire time you’ve known Eddie has he ever once looked at you that way. If there weren’t pom poms involved, he wasn’t either. 

“What does it matter if you don’t want me?” 

“What?” He snaps, but his surprise is crystal clear in his bulged eyes. “I don’t want you? You? What kind of bullshit is that? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Rolling your eyes, casting them to your ceiling, you let out a huff, “no, Eds, I’m not kidding.” When you look back at him, you see his gaze is fixated on your connecting thread, moving his own back and forth as it elongates and shortens with his movements. “Pretty sure the last we all heard, you and Chrissy were fucking in the woods like rabbits, so…” you trail off, not even sure where your train of thought was going to begin with. 

Quit while you’re ahead, right?

Simply knowing that this isn’t a conversation you want to be having right now, you clamp your mouth closed. You don’t want to listen to Eddie tell you that because your string showed up that he’s going to stop whatever he has going with the head cheerleader to be with you. Or even worse, that he doesn’t care that it’s there and is going to continue to be with Chrissy regardless. Either option hurts and cracks your heart inside your chest. You won’t be someone’s second choice. You won’t. 

“I’m fucking- Chrissy and I- what the actual fuck are you talking about?” Eddie’s face contorts further with confusion, the slightest trickle of anger seeping through the cracks. “I’m not fucking Chrissy. Nor do I plan to.” He scoffs, “I’m here because you saw your thread and didn’t bother saying that it was attached to me. You’re the one who doesn’t want this.” 

“I never said-” your words are silenced by Eddie suddenly being an inch away from your face, ring clad hand pinning you to the wall by your throat. Not constricting your air, but enough of a squeeze to indicate that whatever you were planning on saying, Eddie doesn’t want to hear it. “Eds,” his name comes out a mere whimper, your body falling pliant to him, core aching with a need that’s only gotten worse in the years you’ve known him. Your fingers white knuckle the denim of his vest, silently begging for him to not back away.

Eddie halfheartedly sneers at you, “I don’t want to hear another lie, princess.” The nickname he’s always had for you sends a shiver down your spine. His free hand brushes a few strands from your forehead. “I want the truth, do you understand?” He points at you, fingers gently squeezing your throat in warning. “Is the thought of being with me really that abhorrent to you?” 

“No!”

He squeezes again, “why lie then?” 

“Because I thought you wanted Chrissy. I- I thought that there’s no way you’d want the girl you grew up with. The one who you watched get braces and taught how to drive. Every girl you’ve ever drooled after has been different versions of Little Miss Perfect. That’s not me, Eds,” tears well in your eyes, one spilling down your cheek that he stares at. “It’s not like you ever said anything about yours either.” 

Eddie scoffs lightly through his nose, wiping the cascading tear before it can reach your chin. “That’s because mine was black when it appeared,” he explains and your eyes widen. “I thought my soulmate was dead. Turns out it was just because yours hadn’t shown up yet. Can’t have a proper tether if the other half doesn’t exist yet. I saw yours wrap around your pinky and bleed color into mine, I almost choked. You can’t see anyone’s string but yours and your soulmate’s.” Eddie looks down, shaking his head, “but then you told Henderson it went out the door and I thought it could only mean that you didn’t want it to be me.” 

“Far from it, Eddie,” you whisper, one of your hands trailing up to the one still holding your throat. You grab his wrist, fingers twitching around his skin, “it was just my own way of trying to not deal with rejection. I can take anyone turning me down- not that I want anyone else,” you break off on a sigh. “I couldn’t handle the look in your eyes if you told me you wanted someone like Chrissy over me. I couldn’t. So I lied to save myself,” more tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision as more well up. “Eddie, I’m in love with you.” 

The corner of his mouth begins to curl in a smile but he schools himself. “Prove it,” Eddie says, dropping his hand and taking a few steps back. You look at him perplexed, his emotions almost giving you whiplash, but you consider how his own emotions and your lie must have made him feel. “You can say all kinds of things, but those are just words.” Eddie crosses his arms to his chest, “so prove it.” 

Shaky legs carry you across your room to him as he squares his shoulders. Slow, tentative hands reach out, one uncrossing his arms, the other brushing along his cheekbone to cup his jaw. You take a nervous breath, wrapping an arm around his back, stepping closer. 

“You could just admit you don’t want this, princess,” Eddie says. But his voice is thick and you can see the hope glistening in those brown eyes that he doesn’t want you to stop. 

“Fuck off,” you whisper, inching closer, “I’m just nervous.” 

The stoic mask on his face cracks only just, “would you like me to help you?” Eddie’s fingers grip the waistband of your skirt tightly. 

You want to have the courage to just dive in and kiss him, but you don’t. There’s still some small part of you that’s scared that this is a trick. Some way to get back at you for lying to him. For denying him. For making Eddie think that there’s some world where you don’t want him. As if a world like that exists. You almost think you’d deserve it too. Staring into his eyes, parting your lips as you pant your breath, you nod, “please.” 

Eddie yanks your chest flush, making you gasp. The sound swallowed by his mouth colliding with yours. It’s dizzying and makes your heart palpitate beautifully in your chest. The red string on your pinky tingling warmly when his tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss as your back meets the wall again. His hand finds home around your throat again, cold rings flaring goosebumps on your skin. 

Hiking your skirt up with his free hand, his fingers ghost the band on your panties and your legs spread on their own. You whine into his mouth, pussy throbbing in anticipation, arousal soaking through the material. He chuckles at your needy noises, “not yet. On your knees, princess.” You drop to the floor without a second thought, looking up with wide eyes. Eddie cups your chin, a grin curling the corner of his mouth, “you mean it, don’t you? You’re so sorry that you’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” 

“Apology or not,” you swallow thickly, “I would.” 

For the first time of the night, Eddie genuinely smiles at you, stroking your cheek. “Good girl,” his thumb drags along your bottom lip, pulling it down until you open your mouth. “Just a little more and I’ll give you what you want, okay?” His voice is deep, husky, yet so sweet in its sincerity. Like there’s a small part of Eddie that does want to punish you for your transgressions but the other part, perhaps the bigger one, that would never hurt you wants you to know that you’re everything to him. No matter what. 

An assurance in his kind eyes despite the hardened features. You cling to that. Your heart clings to that. To Eddie. Your soulmate. The one you’ve loved longer than you’ve known what love is. So you nod, keeping your eyes locked on him while he unbuckles his belt and tosses in on the floor. Without thinking, you reach out for the button of his jeans, but you freeze, arms falling back to your thighs and you drop your gaze. 

“That eager you want to do it yourself?” Eddie asks, mildly teasing, but you’re too turned on to care. 

Batting your eyelashes, you look up at him again, “can I?” 

Eddie holds his arms out, “I’m all yours, princess. Take what you want.” 

With his affirmation, you hastily unbutton his jeans, yanking the denim down to his ankles, fighting off a growl at the shoes still on his feet. Eddie chuckles cheekily at you, petting your hair as he toes out of them, kicking his pants to the side as well. Face to face with the bulge in his boxers you salivate, fingers curling in the waistband you look up again to find dilated brown eyes hungrily watching you. 

Steeling your nerves, you pull them down, eyes widening at the detailed upside down bat on his thigh. One of the few tattoos of his you’d never seen before. Dreaming of Eddie naked and seeing Eddie naked are two totally different things. His cock is beautiful. Hard and at attention, the vein and dribbles of precum having you ready to drool. Gripping at the base, you flatten your tongue out and lick up his shaft, moaning as the salty, sweet substance coats your taste buds. 

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses, running his fingers through your hair. Swirling your tongue around the angry cockhead, you take him into your mouth slowly. Savoring the taste of him, gently bobbing your head to get him slick. “Just like that, princess,” his grip tightens once you suck with fervor, taking him as deep as you can go. 

With a newfound sense of courage and his moans egging you on, you relax yourself and take him to the back of your throat. Careful of your breathing so you don’t gag. 

“Fuck!” Eddie holds you harder, keeping you in place. Your brain goes nice and fuzzy, the rest of your air escaping your nose. Unable to hold your breath any longer, you pat his thigh and he pulls you off. While you gasp for air, he crouches to meet you, “shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” 

Your eyes are unfocused when they find his face. Drool dripping from your bottom lip, you grin, “I wasn’t done yet.” Eddie pulls back, shocked and you push him to sit on your floor, bending down to take his dick back in your mouth. Moaning, sucking with a goddamn purpose, loving the way his thighs twitch every time he hits the back of your throat again. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, reaching behind you to pull your skirt up to your waist, grabbing your ass. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie groans, hips bucking on their own and you moan again. “Ah, okay, fuck, princess,” he growls as you go faster, lost in the feeling of him in your mouth. “Keep going like that and I’m gonna be done embarrassingly quickly.”

“Sorry,” you rasp out, wiping the residual drool from your lips. 

“Don’t apologize,” he cups your jaw, “I’m just not done with you yet.” Eddie crashes his mouth to yours, taking nearly the last of your brain cells away with his tongue asserting dominance over yours. 

Without further ado, Eddie rushes up, pulling you along with him. Before you can even stumble to find your footing, he’s lifting you by your waist and depositing you on your bed. You watch with glassy, hooded eyes as he does the stupidly sexy back pull to get his shirt off. You nearly choke, it’s been years since you’ve seen Eddie without a shirt on. He’s stunning and your thoughts go right out the window. Leaving only lust and hunger in their wake. 

You’re not even allowed a moment to feel weird about still being fully clothed either. Your skirt being dragged off your legs, ring clad fingers running up your thighs, squeezing as they go. Kneading the flesh, flaring goosebumps and little gasped moans from your lips. In your own haste to get naked, you manage to yank your shirt off. Having already been home for a bit, your bra and fishnets have long since been discarded. 

Left in only your panties, Eddie’s eyes rake over you hungrily, “so beautiful,” he whispers. Trailing kisses and love bites up your legs, stopping when he reaches your underwear. His warm breath ghosting over the wet fabric, you slump to your back, opening your legs in offering for whatever he may be willing to do to you. One finger crooks, pulling the material aside to reveal your glistening pussy, gently toying your folds as you sigh. The finger dips inside, your walls clenching around the intrusion, begging for more. 

Eddie chuckles at you, “so needy, princess,” he coos, adding another finger. Hooking them, he hits that spongy part inside of you and you keen, eyes rolling back. Dropping his head, his hair tickles your thighs. But the giggle dies in your throat, breaking off into a loud moan, his tongue swirling around your clit. Eddie thrusts his fingers faster, every breath of yours coming out a moan or a whine for more. “You taste fucking amazing,” he groans, lapping at you until your thighs shake and your stomach tightens. 

Your orgams smacks you right in the face, your head throwing back into your pillow as you cry out for him. “E-Eddie,” you whine, trying to pull his face back, too sensitive from having just come while his tongue and fingers effortlessly work you towards another. The second is no less intense than the first and you breathe out a silent scream, fingers fisting in the sheets and his curls. 

Eddie groans against you, vibrating you straight to your core. Placing a gentle, teasing kiss to your throbbing, swollen clit, he pulls his fingers out. No chance to beg for more because he’s in your face, shoving his tongue down your throat and swallowing every needy moan you let loose. His cock rubs against your pussy, slicking you up with your own release before sinking into you fully. “Oh, princess,” he moans against your mouth, pulling back to just the tip and slamming back in, “you feel perfect.” 

A guttural moan breaks past your lips as he keeps the same pace, your nails digging into his shoulders. You try to spread your legs more for him, but with his cock inside you, the lace of your panties restricts you. Whining, you paw at them to try and get some movement to no avail. 

Something Eddie notices and he leans back, effortlessly tearing the fabric off and tossing it to the ground. You let out an indignant squeak. Those were your favorite pair. “I’ll buy you new ones, princess,” he grins at you, gripping your hips and thrusting faster. You watch in awe as Eddie lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing the pinky with your thread, making it glow. 

Your eyes roll back, his cock hitting that sweet spot with a force that slams your headboard against the wall and your legs spasm. Your orgasm ripples through before you’d even processed that it had started to swell inside you. 

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, working you through the waves before pulling out of you and flipping you over. The moment your knees settle into the mattress, Eddie’s back inside you. Gripping your hips enough to leave bruises, he pounds into you. Thrusting into you with abandon and all you can do is scream through your moans and hold on for the ride. “I’m gonna come inside you, princess,” Eddie sounds breathless, voice strained at the thought alone. 

Turning your head enough to see him over your shoulder, “please, please, Eddie,” you beg. Wanting nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you. You didn’t press about him wearing a condom and you’re on the pill, so it’s not like it matters. You want it so bad that it hurts, so you push back, meeting every powerful slam of his hips. The thought of it alone is enough to make you come again, Eddie’s cock inside you practically demands it.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to drive himself as deep as possible. “God, I fucking love you,” Eddie groans, hips stuttering as he comes, but he doesn’t stop. Rather lets the heat of his seed and his continued jabs at your bundle of nerves fly you over the edge of another orgasm. 

You tremble through it, your cries being silenced by your sheets while you claw at them. Eddie gently pulls out of you, laying down and pulling you half on top of him, his erratic breaths beginning to calm. You feel dazed out of your mind in the best way possible, the thought of opening your eyes sounds stupid. So you keep them closed, not caring that your light is still on or that you can feel his come leaking out of you onto your bed. You’re too busy trying to remember what it’s like to breathe properly again.

“You still with me?” He asks and you nod, humming softly at the hand lovingly stroking your back. A shiver wracks your frame. “Are you okay?” Eddie asks while you pant against his chest and he strokes your hair soothingly. “Was it too much?” 

You shake your head no, hoping it’s like that all the time. It was perfect, but words are not something your brain can properly handle forming right now. “Loved it. ‘S just cold,” you mutter, trying to cling to every inch of his warm skin touching you. 

He kisses your temple, “here, princess,” Eddie reaches off the edge of the bed, grabbing a shirt and helping you into it. Looking down, you see it’s his own Hellfire shirt he’s given you to warm up with before his arms lock around you again and pull you to his chest. Eddie wiggles you both for a moment until your blanket covers you both. “Better?” He asks, his heartbeat echoing in your ears like the softest bass drum. 

“Much,” you sigh contentedly, nuzzling into him. 

“Do you need anything?” Eddie murmurs into your hair, tracing shapeless designs on your arm. “Water? Something to eat?” You shake your head no. “Tell me if that changes,” he sighs peacefully, holding you close.

“This isn’t a dream, right?” You mumble, half awake. “You’re here? You’re actually mine?” 

Eddie squeezes you tighter, kissing your head again, “not a dream. I’m yours, princess.” 

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #Match Writes

[packitandgo]

SDV Mod Recs

ok so!! with 1.5 out, i have "pared down" my list of mods, and i wanted to share some recs!! as always, check for updates here before installing, but most of these are updated for the new game~

ESSENTIALS/QOL Changes DIVERSE STARDEW VALLEY (see nexus for previews) Karmylla's Immersive Maps Chests Anywhere Combat Controls CustomDeathPenaltyPlus Festival End Time Tweak TimeSpeed WalkthroughTrellis Lore Friendly Joja Prices ToDew Joys of Efficiency SkullCavernElevator Rock Crab Recolors Crop Transplant TreeTransplant WearMoreRings AdoptSkin - update BetterJunimos UI Info - update Lookup Anything SkipIntro CJB Cheats & Item Spawn

ADDITIONS MoreGrass CustomCritters - update Deluxe Hats Immersive Shane Immersive Festival Dialogue Nice Messages Giftable Artifacts Fertilizer Anytime BetterBeachForage StrongerYou DIYCP Suite Colored Seeds FishPreview HomeSewingKit SitforStamina Get Glam Stardew Valley Reimagined 2 - not fully updated but mostly working, just disable town/railroad! recommended for a second playthrough Gender Neutrality Mod No More Dialogue Differences Tolerable Demetrius & Tomato Dilemma - requires a small edit to use both but i prefer the latter’s take on the tomato discussion!

AESTHETIC Sailor Styles Yellog Flower Dialogue Bath House Hotspring Mermaid Replaces Mariner Flowery Straw Hat Animated Mining Pack Elle's Seasonal Buildings BetterArtisanGoodIcons

there’s LOADS more great mods, and im sure i missed some people’s faves! But these are mine ^o^

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv mods #stardew modding #literally this is the shortest list i could POSSIBLY come up with and i even skipped a few faves like the poly mod!!! sighs #hopefully this actually shows up in the tags bc...i put way too much time into it lmao #might repost without links later if it doesnt... #im at 176 mods for my ''mod LITE'' playthru lmao im so bad at this #i have so many other aesthetic mods but those are very much Personal Opinion things so i skipped them

[astaroth1357]

The MC is Taller than Beel

Lucifer

NO.

No, no, absolutely not! He refuses to be shorter than the human!! The thought of having to physically look up at them is just… just sickening…

He would start wearing inserts or platform shoes to give him a few extra inches. Anything for a small edge.

He'd even magically alter his height if he could but he knows that Barbs and Dia would tease him mercilessly for it…

Any time he and the MC are standing close to each other, everyone can tell that he's straining to stand as straight as possible. Those who value their lives don't mention it.

If the MC is insecure about their height… well they won't get much sympathy from him. He was never insecure about his height until they showed up… so too bad. Suffer.

Mammon

FUCK they're huge! Like. How do humans get so tall??

When they first met it was really, really hard for him to be even slightly intimidating while having to crane his neck up just to look them in the eye… They're even taller than Lucifer, what the hell?!

Over time he kind of got used to it, I mean, their size makes them great to hide behind when a pissed off bookie comes running by! They're like a walking tree!!

He's also jumped into their arms like a frightened cat on numerous occasions… But it's not that embarrassing or nothing! (As long as his brothers don't see…)

If the MC is insecure about their height, he'll tell'em that they're being crazy and being tall is great! Though uh, whether any of his reasons above actually reassure them is pretty much anyone's guess...

Leviathan 

Look. He knows that he has the posture of an arthritic bridge troll but, contrary to first impressions, he's not a short guy. Far from it.

And yet, they still make him feel tiny…

Seriously, who picked out such a tall human?? He's already pretty underwhelming to start with, having to actually look down at him is only going to make it worse….

At least their height isn't all bad. He likes to take them out to crowded conventions or concerts with him because he can hang onto their shirt while they part the crowd! Plus, he never has to worry about losing track of them!

If he takes both Beel and MC somewhere it kind of feels like having bodyguards. He has managed to intimidate himself to the front of a few lines before (though he had to bribe them both each time to do it).

If they're insecure about their height, he'll list off a few of the eight billion or so insecurities that he has to remind them that being tall ain't that bad. Hell, use it right and it's a strength! You got this, MC.

Satan 

He never thought he'd actually see a human actually dwarf Lucifer before… Oh, it's wonderful!

Admittedly, he gets far more enjoyment out of watching his brother nurse his injured pride than the MC's height itself. Though they do come in handy for those particularly high bookshelves...

If anything, he's more concerned about their health and general coordination. Even Beel has to duck through some doorways in the House so he can't imagine getting around has been very good for their back...

He's actually one of the first people to try and get a few accommodations for them and their size. Beel can take a lot since he's built like a truck but a human is just a bag of porcelain in comparison… They need the help.

A bigger bed? Done. Altered uniform? Ordered. A desk they can actually sit in? Shipped and paid for by Student Council funds. For undermining his brother, it's all the least he can do, really.

If they're insecure about their height, he'll remind them that it's just a genetic thing and it doesn't impact who they are. Plus, they're making the demon of Pride himself stew in jealousy so they really ought to be doing something right, no?

Asmodeus 

So you're telling him that the MC is super tall…? Like, really tall? "I-can-dominate-you" kind of tall?? Where can he sign him up?!

Look, Asmo is the shortest of the family so it's not like he's not used to looking up at people. He honestly doesn't even mind his height compared to his brothers, he thinks it makes him look cuter. 🤭

But a tall MC?? That. Sounds. Amazing!! Long legs for days…!!! And just the difference between them being so big while he's so small?? Please, he couldn’t be any more behind this. He is ready!!!

Thankfully, it's not all about how hot he finds them though. Asmo will also take the Satan route of trying to make life a little easier for them when he can, particularly with clothes.

Have no fear, tall MC! Asmo knows all the best shops and tailors to make sure that you'll never have pants or a dress that is too short ever again! Everything you wear is going to fit and it will look marvelous.

If they're insecure about their height, he won't even hear it! They're stunning and he won't let them or anyone else say anything to the contrary! You turn every head in a room, be proud of that, MC!!

Beelzebub 

Oh. Well this is different.

It's not like he's never met someone taller than him before. He knows a couple guys on the fangol team about that tall, it's just that no one really expected out of a human…

Beel being Beel, he's not really insecure about it. If anything, he's kind of grateful that he finally has someone who gets all the "tall person problems." Getting smacked by ceiling fans is the worst...

There's other things he likes too. It feels really nice to go places with them because he doesn't feel so out of place.

It also puts his mind at ease a little. A human is still pretty frail, but the MC's size makes him feel like they're harder to target anyway. Imagining MC decking some poor fool with a knee to the face gives his soul some peace at night...

Best of all, though, are the hugs. Finally, he has someone else he can hug comfortably without having to bend in half! It's so nice. 😊

If they're insecure about their height well... He's also tall so he gets it. He'll try to remind them that it's not all that bad and if nothing else, he's there to help them out if they need it. Can't fit into that car? Don't worry, he's got you - he's ripping out the seat as we speak!

Belphegor 

Honestly? He couldn't be happier.

He'd say one of Beel's best qualities is that there's literally so much of him. He's a big, lovable teddy bear of a demon and he adores him for it. So an equally big MC? Call Belphie a supporter!

Tall MC is going to get no end of attention from Belphie and yes, the cuddling is mandatory. He loves to be small spoon so just deal with it.

He is going to ask for a piggyback ride at least once. Though, is it because he knows they can carry him or because he's a lazy motherfucker...? Your call.

He also enjoys watching Lucifer attempt to cover up his height difference through any petty means possible.

He and Satan snuck platform insoles into the MC's shoes for a few days just to watch their brother lose his mind… The look of despair Lucifer made when he walked into breakfast and thought that the MC had grown yet another inch was priceless.

If they're insecure about their height, he'll tell them big deal because it's not like they can change it... Though he will make a point of how much he likes their height so take what you can get, I guess.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[lovelybarnes]

restless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and steve rogers warnings: mentions of nightmares and clingy bucky but it’s mostly fluff about: bucky can’t sleep without y/n a/n: i was going to post this yesterday but i fell asleep :| my computer was literally open and nearly dead when i woke up lmao

today marks one week that you’ve been gone, and with it, the official shortest amount of sleep that bucky has gotten in a week. he supposes it’s sightly pathetic that he can’t sleep well- or, really, at all- without you, but you continuously tell him you chase his nightmares away for him, and without you there to make them disappear, where else will they go but deep into the crevices of his mind, where they’ll hide long enough for him to let his guard down and lull himself to sleep, only to wake up with the ugly memories of things he hoped he’d forgotten. he’s constantly told that his attachment to you is overbearing- not by you, though. never by you- because it must be, with how much he clings to your side, always touching some part of you so that he’s sure that, yes, you’re there. not a dream or an illusion, although you’re good enough to be one.

he misses every part of you; your fingers and the way they run through his hair, trace his features with such tenderness he nearly believes he is what you see, your voice and its ability to transform the most mundane words into the greatest poetry, sing soft songs into his skin until he’s fallen asleep, your eyes and how they examine him in the best way possible, glowing when they meet his.

he longs for you, but he can only imagine your smile, the bitter reminder that you’re probably showing it to some psychopath for the mission you’re on. he hates steve every time the memory is evoked, the panic that comes with your being used as bait for some of the most screwed up villains in the world only returning stronger. he’s tempted to go get you himself, uncaring if he screws up the mission because at least he’ll have you.

stark will call him pathetic, then go to bed with the love of his life, so bucky prefers keeping his thoughts about you to himself, much like he’d like to keep you. you’ve told him you can handle yourself, and bucky never doubts it, having been victim to the using of your skills when he first encountered you as the winter soldier. you kicked his ass then, and you kick any and all ass now.

it doesn’t help his sleeping schedule, though your calls do. he swears you’re an angel because there’s no way a normal human could glow like that through a screen, but you always laugh off his words and simply tell him to turn his brightness down. however, you haven’t taught him that yet, so he greets you with the same sentence every time. his smile is always brighter after your calls, the dark bruises under his eyes reduced as if he got a full night’s rest. it’s your effect on him, and as much as everyone teases you both for it, they appreciate it.

you’re due to come back in a week or two, but bucky is unsure he can wait that long, and judging from your chirpier-than-usual voice in your latest interaction, you’ve finished early, like you always do. he likes to imagine it’s because of him, behind the deprecating voice that screams at him why would it be? (the answer is that you love him and hate every second you’re away from him)

sam scoffs when he overhears him telling that to steve, sitting down next to bucky, “man, there is no way you can tell that from a phone call. even if you could, i know she’s good, but to shave two weeks off mission time? natasha hasn’t even been able to do that.” a proud smile grows on bucky’s face without his permission as he shrugs, “she’s that good,” he brags, choosing to ignore the fake gag sam sends his way.

you frown when he tells you what he thinks on your call a few hours later, lips puckering into a small pout, “how did you know? i wanted it to be a surprise!” you ask through a crackled voice. so much for state of the art technology, bucky thinks, but is glad nonetheless to hear your voice. “i know you too well, doll. you’re really coming back today?”

you nod excitedly, biting your bottom lip. “mhm! i missed you and my bed too much to stay here a moment longer. villains are such pervs,” you complain, nose scrunching. bucky’s jaw sets when he hears your words, immediately thinking the worst. “but, i’m coming back today, so it’s fine. what do you want to do when i get back?”

bucky shrugs, “be with you,” he answers simply, making you laugh. “other than that, dummy. we could watch a movie, have a little date night to make up for the one i missed while i was gone.” bucky grins at this, remembering his plans for that night. “okay,” he agrees, “we’ll watch one of those movies on my list. although sam put some weird ones.”

you concur through chuckles that pass through the phone, reminding him how much you love him. he swears an oath to never let you go again and bites back a yawn that you see right through. “you’re sleeping the moment i get back,” you instruct, and bucky nods with your words, even when the sole idea of your being within arm’s reach is obviously too enticing to pass up for sleep. “whatever you want, doll. as long as you’re here.” he replies, thinking about spending the night pressing kisses to your hair and checking for any injuries you may have withheld from him.

the sentence is dishonest and you both know it, but you leave it at that, missing him too much and sure he’ll rest with how exhausted he must be. you say goodbye without the actual words, only giving a blown kiss and a “see you later.”

bucky spends the rest of the hours without you thinking of you, skimming through the words written in the little blue notebook you got him to replace his old one. that one sits on his dresser, the disuse proven by the layer of dust that covers it. the names he spent hours agonizing over, tracing his fingers over the indents made by the pen, are hidden by its cover. they never fade from his mind, though. only half of the pages of the one you gave him are blank now, and the ones that aren’t are bright and white, inviting him to drop his pen on the lines and jot whatever reference he didn’t understand but wants to. he eyes the names of the movies and shows, some accompanied by quotes that refer to them. “new girl: nick miller,” he reads, remembering how one of your friends said he was the avenger version of the character. “friends: ‘joey doesn’t share food,” sam told him that one when he didn’t let him have any of his chips. he looks at clueless, recalling the way all of his teammates stare at scott whenever the movie comes up. there are a couple pages like this, some of them recommendations and others titles he kept hearing. tonight, he decides on starting a new show, but he leaves the actual show up to you to decide.

you arrive a couple hours later, when stars have littered the darkness that bled through the sky. it’s all very rom-com-filmesque, the way you light up when you see his face- even through how tired you clearly are- and how you jump into his arms, ignoring the ache in your muscles because the way his arms wrap around you seems to make it disappear. he gathers you in his arms and kisses everywhere on your face, treasuring your laugh and the feeling of your lips pressing to his shoulder when you hug him again.

even when you pull away, he doesn’t let go of your hand, flesh fingers tracing small circles into your skin. you don’t complain, even when steve shoves papers in front of you and asks you to sign them with a sheepish look. sam comes by and teases bucky lightheartedly, hounding bucky to let you have both your hands. you chuckle at his request and squeeze bucky’s fingers, kissing the back of his hand, “oh, no, he better not,” you half-joke. he smiles, red tinting his cheeks as he gently draws you closer.

you don’t feel like driving at the moment, and you need to water your plants, completely sure that wanda forgot to do it, so you end up going to your room, even though you spend most of your time at his own room or your apartment outside the compound. you can tell how little the room has been used by the spotless counters and floors, furniture clean of any of the knickknacks you usually leave. you only sleep here when bucky leaves for long missions, his absence is overly blatant when he’s gone, and your plants keep you from feeling too alone.

you usher bucky inside, tugging open your drawers to search for something for him to wear. you grin at the soft fabric under the pads of your fingertips, recalling the memory of stealing them from bucky’s closet to soak in his scent when you couldn’t have the real thing. the considerable use has washed away all traces of him, and you decide that needs to be fixed, picking out clothing for him.

you change into one of his old shirts and make tea while he changes, smiling when you feel his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your jaw. “what do you want to watch tonight?” he asks, and you contemplate it while you pour your drinks, shoveling spoons of sugar into each one to make it as sweet as possible- his favorite. “new girl, i think you’ll like it,” you reply after a moment.

he unravels his arms from around you, taking the mugs from the counter and following you to your room after you peck his cheek in thanks. “okay, i want to see what this nick miller is all about,” bucky says, making you laugh softly. “c’mon,” he urges, opening his arms for you after setting the cups down. you cuddle up to his side after you grab your computer, setting up netflix and choosing the show.

halfway through the first episode, bucky feels the fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks, hours of missed sleep catching up to him now that he’s finally relaxed and comfortable. keeping his eyes open is a job all on its own, and the sweet smell of your hair combined with the way your fingers move on his chest, softly writing letters and drawing shapes, is too much to resist.

you barely notice when he shuts his eyes, the evening of his breathing alerting you he’s succumbed to his tiredness. you stop the video and quietly shut your laptop, placing it on the bedside table while moving as little as possible. he feels you shift through your efforts, pulling you closer in his sleep. you chase away his nightmares like you always do, letting him sleep his first full night since you left.

he wakes up rejuvenated and embarrassed, sputtering out embarrassed apologies that you shush with kind reassurances and tender kisses. he’s reminded of how wonderful you are when you turn, arms extending to reach into your bag and carrying out a small stuffed animal that you say reminded you of him.

#bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #steve and bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #fluffy bucky barnes #fluffy bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #you x bucky barnes #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #y/n x bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #avengers #avengers x reader #avenger!reader #fluff

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 2

Masterlist

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A/n: Hi!! Here’s chapter 2!!! This chapter is from Elias’s POV, the rest of the chapters will be a combo of the two (and probably one or part of one) will be from Brock’s POV eventually😁 these first two chapters are more just setting up everything. please let me know what you think! All feedback is appreciated!!!!

Warnings: A LOT of cursing (sorry...sorta), Petey not listening, might be a little cheesy (I’m not sorry), an attempt at Swedish (pls let me know if It’s wrong), I think that’s it, lmk if I missed one

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: on chapter 1

Word Count: 1.8k (this is the shortest one)

Summary: Yeah so, Elias has a “teenage-reminiscent” crush on the one girl he was terrified to like, so he makes a plan to just be her friend, it doesn’t go to well, so he makes a new one.

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

PRESENT

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

Petty had a crush on Y/N. Y/N Boeser, the one fucking girl he can't have. His best friend's little sister.

When he met her at the mid-point of his rookie year, he'd already heard a lot about her. Brock had told him so many stories and he learned so much about the infamous Y/N, and the more he learned, the more he really liked her. Then there were the other stories Brock told him, the ones that included guys. One he recalls quite clearly.

November, 2018

They were sitting on Brock’s couch, watching One Tree Hill,

“Petey, have I ever told you about Chad?” Brock started.

“No, why?”

“Chad was my best friend in middle school, all the way up to my senior year. Then he wanted to date Y/N.”

“What do you mean ‘up to’ your senior year?” His attention was taken away from the show completely at the mention of her name.

“Well, I told him I didn’t want him to go out with her, but that it was her choice, not mine. So he asked her out, and they dated for like 3 months. Then he broke her heart.”

“What did you do?” Elias was curious.

“Oh, I broke his face”

Elias was shocked, he’d never known Brock to be anything but a (slightly obnoxious) ray of sunshine. “...oh, uh... so what happened to Chad after that?”

“I stopped being friends with him, and so did the rest of my group of friends. Normally I’m not like that, but he messed with Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I get that. My brother’s girlfriend is basically like my sister and if anyone hurt her, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Yeah so anyways-“

Elias zoned out as Brock kept talking, just thinking about what would happen if he asked Y/N out. He decided then that no matter how perfect and incredible she was, it wasn’t worth his friendship and career with his best friend. He’d just be her friend if anything. And who knows, maybe he’d never even meet her in person.

_______

Now, as he’s walking to the break room Brock asked him to meet him in, he's remembering tjrs how ignorant that plan was. Because once he met her, it was a lot more challenging than he could’ve imagined. The second he met her in person, that plan was incinerated as a possibility.

Dice and ice (February)  2019:

Elias showed up 20 minutes early, he is so nervous. This is his first dice and ice and from what people told him, he knows this isn’t his kind of event. He’s not social, he’s an awkward Swedish hockey player. Not to mention the amount of extra attention he’s sure to get tonight. Brock had told him how much attention he received when he was the star rookie, and that made Elias even more anxious. Thanks, Brock. 

He paced near the front waiting for Brock to get there, imagining all of the ways he could humiliate himself in front of everyone. He was in between “eating too much fancy food and throwing up” and “getting so nervous he forgets how to speak English” for being the worst.

Just as he started to get nauseous from remembering the rookies have to do a performance every year, he found himself unable to breathe. This wasn’t because of the inevitable doom tonight was bound to bring though. He saw the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the arm of his best friend. Her dress, her hair, her makeup, her legs, everything he could see was just beautiful.

“Petey!” Brock shouted. 

Elias couldn’t speak still but he made eye contact with Brock. 

“Woah bud, you doin’ ok?” He said with a concerned look.

A choked, “Uh…” was the only thing that came out. Though, he felt that was a sufficient answer to Brock’s question. Elias’s eyes made their way back to the girl now standing behind Brock, since Brock took it upon himself to grab Elias’s face and get very close. He inspected Elias, seeing if maybe he was sick or had a concussion. 

Brock must have been satisfied with what he saw since he took a step back, letting go of Elias’s face. That’s when he noticed his best friend looking at his “date” for the night. 

“Petey, this is Y/N/N, Y/N/N Petey,” Brock said, gesturing to the two of you. 

“Y/N/N?” He asked, suddenly able to speak again. He was looking at Brock with scrunched eyebrows. ‘Is it actually her?’ was all her could think.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you know, my sister that I’ve told you about at least 20 times?”

Elias nodded and looked back at her.

She waved a little, “Hi, it’s Elias right?” she asked.

“Hmm? Uh, yeah, that’s right.” if he wasn’t sweating before, he definitely was now. “It’s Y/N?”

She nodded “yeah but you can call me Y/N/N, most people do.”

He likes her first name though, he thinks it’s such a perfect name, so he decided to just call her Y/N.

All three of them stood there awkwardly for a moment. Though to Elias, it felt like it could’ve been a few hours. He was completely mesmerized and terrified by you.

Brock cleared his throat, pulling Elias back to the world, “so, let’s head inside?”

“Yeah sounds good,” Elias walked in and held the door open for her and Brock.

Walking in right behind them was Jacob, he put his hand on Elias’s shoulder.

“mår du bra? du ser sjuk ut. (are you okay? You look sick.),” he asked.

“Jag kommer att bli bra (I will be fine),” he responded with an unconvincing grin.

As the night went on, Elias couldn’t seem to relax; he kept making sure his tie was straight and he couldn’t stop fixing his hair. For a while, he had to take pictures with the fans and families, with Brock...obviously.

“You just need to relax, Petey,” he had said this about 5 times already.

“I know, I just don’t want to embarrass myself, I’m not very social. I hate these events.”

Brock chuckled, “I swear, the more I learn about you, the more and more I think you and my sister are the same person. The only reason why she’s here is cause I bought her a new fancy dress and cause she’s gonna try and kiss some ass and get a job with management.”

“Wait, so she’s moving here?”

“Oh yeah, I asked her to. Depending on if she gets the job, of course, which she’s sure to get with her resume.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go find her, you need to relax, just breathe,” Brock said as he stood up to walk away, “And stop imagining the worst things that could happen,” knowing his best friend all too well.

Elias walked over and sat with Bo and Holly, just trying to get through this night without having a panic attack.

The rest of the night went fine, no vomiting or forgetting English, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because of his luck, that’s when he saw Y/N, and he couldn't look away. She was standing in the corner, looking insanely nervous. Before he could think about it, he was walking over to her. 

“You doing ok?” he asked.

“That obvious?”

He looked down at his shoes, “Hey, at least you don't look sick like I did apparently.”

That made her laugh, one of the happiest sounds he’d ever heard. “Yeah, you didn’t look too happy to be here.”

“Well, these events aren’t really my thing. I heard they aren’t yours either?” he finally looked in her eyes, which was not a smart decision.

“God, no, absolutely not. I hate these things, I don’t get why I need to dress like this and kiss up to people to get a job that I’m already very qualified for.” She took a pause, “even though I do love this dress...”

There was a little silence as Elias wasn’t sure what to say, he decided on, “If it helps, you look very pretty, and I like that dress too.” 

She blushed, “thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself, Elias”

The way she said his name sent chills up his spine, Brock introduced him as Petey, but not once had she called him that. She only called him Elias, and it sounded perfect coming from her mouth. The thing about her was, the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became in his eyes. The way she laughed, the way she stood with her legs crossed, the way she constantly crossed her arms. To most she probably seems unwelcoming cold, and closed off but to Elias, he saw someone just like himself and-

Oh shit, what is he doing?

He’s literally doing the exact opposite of what he said he was going to, he needs to get away from her. He needs a drink is what he really needs.

That’s when Brock walked over, “hey! There are the two most unfun people in this place!”

“Jackass,” she quipped.

“I’m gonna go talk to Marky,” Elias said, trying to make his escape.

“Fine then, leave me to avoid socializing alone, I guess” she called at him sarcastically.

He nervously laughed and turned around, quickly making his way to the patio that he knew was empty.

Once he got outside he took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he sighed.  He stood there thinking of what he needed to do. He couldn’t end up like ‘Chad,’ he had to stop whatever this is that’s happening to him when he saw her. He’s never felt like this, he’s never even had a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. How the hell did he feel like this for a girl he doesn’t really know? He wished he’d never met her; when he’d never met her in real life, he could imagine she looked weird, or maybe she was really rude (not that he thought anyone related to Brock could be rude). However, that could not have been farther from the truth. She was amazing, and so incredibly beautiful, but not in the conventional way like most of the WAGs here tonight, most of them fit the “hot model, super social, 50,000 picture taking” stereotype that Elias personally didn’t find all that appealing. Shes the perfect height for him, perfect size for him, her hair color and length was even perfect, and that was the problem. She was everything he didn’t want her to be, and more. Her personality was exactly what he wished his future wife’s personality would be: sweet with a little bit of sass, would rather stay inside, doesn’t take shit from people, while still a bit awkward, witty humored, sports loving, lazy Sunday having, and just goddamn perfect. The first word that came to mind when thinking of Y/N, was just that: Perfect.

So he knew what he had to do, he couldn’t be her friend. One small conversation proved that tonight. He had to avoid her as best he could, and do the things he didn’t want to do to her: be cold, shut her out, not talk to her alone. It was going to be incredibly difficult, but he valued Brock's friendship too much.

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PRESENT

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As he looks back, it was the best decision. It was definitely torturous to him, but he had to. Especially after literally every one of his closest teammates was basically like a big brother to her, or a best friend, or a “cuddle buddy” whatever that meant. He can’t even imagine what would happen now. JT, Bo, Brock, Troy, Thatcher, Marky, even Quinn would have his head if he tried anything. And God if he wasn’t terrified of the rage in JT’s eyes when anyone messed with Y/N, it wasn’t human and no one can convince Elias otherwise...seriously fucking terrifying.

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

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#from a distance: series #hockey #nhl #elias pettersson #vancover canucks #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson imagines #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks imagine #elias pettersson x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Honest question. What’s the difference between a himbo and an autistically coded character?

Oh, you’re asking about best boy Soren? Okay, I gotchu.

Super short Soren answer: Autistic-coded characters can come in Not-beefy Size. 

But there’s more to it than that. Read on!

I’ve been planning to make some posts on the autistic coded characters in TDP but I haven’t actually completed and posted any of them yet. thanks ADD I do see Soren’s autistic coding, and it’s really helped me understand him more fully, as his own character and as a member of the magefam and their history and dynamic.

I get the himbo reference, and I can totally see it. Love a good himbo, me. But if I might get overly picky for a hot second, I’m not super comfy with the “dumb men are safe” mentality hiding in its shadow. It’s not fair to anyone. Traditionally educated guys are fully capable of being kind and empathetic, the same as anyone else. No matter who you are, that’s a matter of awareness, choice, and practice. And “dumb” isn’t fair, either. There are many kinds of intelligence, and being kind and respectful and enthusiastically supporting family, friends, women, and cute little forest animals doesn’t make you dumb - it makes you emotionally intelligent. 

Himbos have big hearts because that’s the muscle they flex the most! They choose to be kind because they understand it’s important.

Okay, in the categories of himbo:

Soren is definitely tall/beefy. He’s done like a bajillion pushups, man. 

He’s had a great character arc through the first three seasons, which has shown him to have a true and kind heart underneath his armor.

And he’s emotionally intelligent, earnest, and straightforward (formerly: dumb). He knows how he feels, but he often has trouble expressing it eloquently. Possibly because his dad has the emotional range of weetabix. But again, that doesn’t change Soren’s feelings. It just makes him adorkable when he tries to express them.

Soren: himbo confirmed!

But he’s also carrying a lot of autistic coding with him. Seems like every time I rewatch his scenes, I find some other little clue.

Here’s a handy list of autistic strengths, several of which apply to Soren:

Learning to read at a very early age (known as hyperlexia).

Memorising and learning information quickly.

Thinking and learning in a visual way.

Logical thinking ability.

May excel (if able) in academic areas such as science, engineering and mathematics as they are technical and logical subjects that do not heavily rely on social interaction.

Having an extraordinarily good memory (being able to remember facts for a long period of time).

Being precise and detail orientated.

Exceptional honesty and reliability.

Being dependable in regards to schedules and routines.

Having an excellent sense of direction.

Be very punctual.

Strong adherence to rules.

Able to concentrate for long periods of time when motivated.

A drive for perfection and order.

A capability for alternate problem solving.

A rare freshness and sense of wonderment.

I’m not going to go into a full list for Soren’s autistic traits here, but a lot of these show up in Soren becoming the youngest member of the Crownguard. Being a warrior is his special interest. He’s constantly devoted to being in shape and ready to do his duty because he loves it and he takes it very seriously. He went against his father to rescue Ezran because he held his duty as a Crownguard higher than his own father’s schemes. 

At the same time, his trust in the rules made it easier for Viren to manipulate him and to direct his actions according to his own will. Soren thought that doing what his father instructed meant being a good son and a loyal Crownguard. If his dad hadn’t been a manipulative creep, then he’d have been right. Rules are static and easy to remember. People’s moods and motives can shift and get hard to read.

He’s also very literal. What you see is what you get, and imagining things outside factual boundaries takes a lot of work, so “sweeping the leg isn’t a thing in swordfighting” is something he believes very firmly, because he hasn’t learned otherwise yet. This also affects his humor: see the “Ka-tallest/Ka-shortest” joke, where he can’t follow Claudia’s adaptation of his wordplay because he hasn’t learned that particular trick yet either. Not being able to recognize sarcasm easily, especially from unfamiliar people, is a fairly common autistic trait: Rayla’s sass goes right over his head until he spends enough time around her to recognize her specific patterns of speech and dialogue.

Autistic folks have a tendency to have either low or high empathy, and sometimes have trouble expressing it. Soren clearly has plenty of empathy, but he struggles to express it well. He tries to engage with his family and friends, and even Bait, because he feels a deep connection to them no matter what his dad says. It’s what gives him his himbotastic emotional intelligence, even if he isn’t always sure what to do about how he feels.

You could hypothetically spot a difference between a himbo and an autistic-coded character if, say, they had low empathy (less himbo), or if they had an impressive skill with metaphoric thinking (less autistic-coded), or if they were not athletically inclined (less himbo), or if they were an incisive judge of social subtlety instead of accepting face value (less autistic-coded). But at the end of the day, I see Soren as a shining example of both!

#asks #soren #autistic-coded characters #autistic soren #tdp analysis #himbo #autistic tdp characters #best boy soren

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF 

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

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The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.  

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.  

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

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While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

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Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx​

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Thank you for reading!!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #soulmate au #avengers #avengers fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #fluff #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #the best mistake of my life #anika ann

[juyeoniemyhoney]

things she’ll never know

When you love someone, the most important thing that you should not do is introduce them to their crush and help them get along. Yoongi knows this because he has learned the hard way. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook has got to be his biggest mistake ever and once things for you and Jungkook start to escalate into more than a friendship, Yoongi knows he fucked up. 

-pairing: min yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook)

-genre: angst yo 

-warnings: none really, this may be a little stupid

-word count: 2408 words

-A/N: what upppp. back with a little yoongi angst. i hope you guys like it! don’t be shy to request some ideas you’d like me to write! i like live to please people and coming up with plots or scenarios are like super hard for me for some reason. also don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this one! it really, really helps me to improve and write better! 

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It is without a doubt that everything you do has no reason. Like literally everything you are pursuing has in some way or another been forced onto you. You did not sign up for school, no. Your mother had just dressed you up in a school uniform one day when you were six and left you in a school full of strangers and other tiny people. So naturally, after being forced into things your whole life, you have developed a hate for almost everything. 

But nothing you have gone through can quite prepare you for the shit that you have to endure today. 

Today, instead of having an engaging discussion about life during homeroom like you usually do, your classmates are scattered around the classroom, cleaning every single nook and cranny until it is basically shining. All the while, the teacher screams at a group of friends who childishly throw rubbish and spray water at each other as a means to make this laborious task at least a little bit more fun than it actually is. 

After every semester, your school deems it necessary for the students to conduct a “spring cleaning” activity. As a result, your fun homeroom sessions are replaced with an hour of cleaning; beneficial for the janitors who work at your school, but nonetheless a drab and boring activity. 

“This is so boring,” you sigh, verbalising your thoughts to Yoongi, who is silently wiping a window pane beside you. Yoongi remains silent and just nods, lips set in a firm line but expression gentle. At his silent response, you cannot help but allow a smile to bloom on your lips at his extremely Yoongi-esque answer. 

Yoongi, your best friend, is an attractive, raven haired boy of little words. He has been by your side for as long as you can remember; since you had moved in beside him. He had come up to you, shy, tiny and chubby, asking you to help him tie his shoelaces. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable and you basically tell him everything. And because Yoongi is such a good friend, the moment you told him that you found Jungkook, a fellow classmate, attractive, Yoongi had taken it upon himself to — unlike his introverted nature — befriend him. 

Which brings us to today, almost a year after Jungkook was included into your list of friends. The three of you had grown quite close in the past year. But don’t be mistaken, it took you almost three months to warm up to him, far too shy to even look him in the eyes. But with insistent prompting from Yoongi and an insane amount of coincidental occurrences, obviously articulately orchestrated by Yoongi, you eventually came round and began to talk comfortably with Jungkook. 

“Yoongi,” you call him, reaching up to his sleeve to tug on it gently. The action causes Yoongi’s heart to swell and his chest strains painfully with the inability to house the sheer amount of adoration he feels for you. Yoongi hums in response, too lost at the sight of you to process words.

“Make this more fun,” you command, frown drawing your brows together, lips turned down at the corners in a pout. Yoongi’s heart falters at the sight. 

Years ago, when you and Yoongi were four years old, only a few days after he met you, he already knew that he was going to marry you. You had run up to him in the playground, attacking him with a bear hug, surprising him by muttering a soft and shy, I love you as you tucked your face into his neck. Yoongi has never been the same since.

That moment has been replaying itself in his head, a constant reminder that his immediate thought after you had embraced him was that he never wanted you to let go. He has only fallen harder for you since; for your magnetic personality and your laugh and your smile that seems to shine so brightly that it is as if the sun had decided to bury itself in your very being. 

His unadulterated attraction to even just the thought of you only seemed to strengthen that fateful night, consisting of powerful torrents of rain and a sole umbrella. That night, (despite being under the legal drinking age) you were drunk out of your mind, arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulder and legs tripping over each other clumsily. The two of you had awkwardly, yet silently, stumbled into your room, Yoongi groaning with exertion and exhaustion after having to haul you all the way back to your house from the party that celebrated your school’s volleyball team’s win. As soon as your head had hit your pillow, lightning flashed as if the sky was snapping a picture of that moment, granting Yoongi sight of you. Love surged through him at the sight, your eyes barely open and glazed over in exhaustion. 

“It’s raining,” you had observed from the window behind Yoongi. Yoongi, too distracted by the look of pure merriment swirling in your brown eyes that shone like the moon, could only a whisper an aloof answer. You’ve always liked rain. 

He was spiralling down a tangent of doubtful supposition, trying to decide if he should just kiss you right then and there, if it would still ruin your friendship even if there was a high possibility that the whole night would excuse itself from your memory in the morning. Yoongi immediately dispelled the horrifying thought from his brain, barely registering that you had gotten up and had started to rummage about your things. 

“You should take this umbrella,” you slurred, turning back around to look at Yoongi. You stumbled clumsily towards him, as if you were a baby learning to walk. Just as you were about to hand Yoongi the umbrella, a wire had caught your foot, pulling taut and tripping you. You had stumbled forward in an attempt to find your balance, but once you realised that it would not be possible, you had tried to catch yourself on Yoongi instead, but your lack of sobriety had also meant the deduction of your depth perception, causing you to completely miss his shoulders. 

All too suddenly, Yoongi found himself on your bed, on his back, tasting alcohol on your lips. Yoongi’s brain had ceased regular function at that point and instead of pulling away, instead of pushing you off him, instead of something, he found himself kissing you. And for the shortest of seconds, you were kissing him back. He seemed to have fallen from reality and landed in an alternate universe; where you are his, and you are okay with being his. Your lips felt surreal and warm, so, so warm and he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. But then Yoongi felt your tongue at the seam of his lips, and he was dragged out of his trance by the ankles and jolting away from you as if you were a live wire. 

“Why...?” you had questioned, earnest eyes gazing down at him, searching for eye contact but Yoongi had refused it, eyes landing on everything except yours. And too fast for Yoongi to even process himself, he was snatching the umbrella from your hands, pushing you off him as gently as he could in his haste, and practically sprinting out of your bedroom, in search of refuge that only his own could offer.

When Yoongi thinks back to that incident, he always beats himself up for dashing out of there before ensuring that you were okay first. He had let his feelings control him and didn’t even stop to think that he should have probably sobered you up first before leaving. But it is far too late to regret and that incident now serves as one of Yoongi’s milestones, the one that had caused his feelings for you to grow exponentially, the kiss that you cannot even remember. 

“How about we play tag? If I touch you with this rag, I win. If you manage to evade me for the rest of the period, you win. Winner gets a whole tub of ice cream,” Yoongi suggests, finally snapping out of his trance. 

“That hardly seems far,” you complain with a slap to his bicep. It causes Yoongi to flinch and you let out a melodious chuckle at his reaction. Yoongi’s heart dances to the tune. 

“Fine then, be bored,” is Yoongi’s snarky reply. He lets out a sigh in faux disappointment and turns back to the window to continue his interrupted wiping. Though, his expression immediately brightens when you protest to your teasing gone wrong. Flowers bloom in Yoongi’s chest and he feels a strong urge to hug you; to wrap you up in his arms, hidden away from the world in his warmth. Yoongi has to quite literally hold himself back to not act on the urge.

And so begins the game of tag. If Yoongi were to be entirely honest, he hates physical activity, of every and any sort. Which is why he has no idea why he had suggested to play tag in the first place. If he were to be even more honest, even if he hates running, he is sure that if he were playing seriously, the game would end in the matter of seconds. So, he chases you with restraint and pretends to take breaks in between the chasing. And if he ever came close to tagging you, he would shorten his reach so that the rag would miss you by a hair. It is just, Yoongi is high on the sound of your mirthful giggling, not wanting it to stop for even just a second. Not when the sound makes him so happy that he feels as if his whole body is levitating. 

Yoongi chases you all around the classroom, the two of you blatantly ignoring your teacher’s nagging. As the period comes to an end, Yoongi quickens his speed, just refusing to lose to you after realising how much you would tease him if he did. Now at the front of the classroom, Yoongi finds himself far behind you, struggling to catch up. 

Everything that happens next seems to happen in slow-motion for Yoongi.

As you glance over your shoulder to gauge where Yoongi is, you accidentally ram into someone. More specifically, you run right into Jungkook. You let out a surprised squeal when your head hits his chest and Jungkook wraps his arms around you in instinct, letting out his own sound of surprise. Yoongi’s heart, at the sight, sinks right into his gut, as if it were in quicksand. Jungkook’s expression of surprise morphs into an endearing smile and he relaxes and hugs you comfortably, arms around your shoulders and chin resting gingerly on top of your head. 

Jungkook’s scent and warmth send you into a state of delirium. Your cheeks burn red in embarrassment when he starts stroking your hair, gently combing his fingers through the thick locks. Your classmates do not care, in fact you do not think they even notice the intimate moment the two fo you are having now. It is as if the world has vanished and it is just you and Jungkook, and no one else to disturb you. In Jungkook’s arms, everything feels right, like not a thing in the world is wrong, and maybe, it is here, in his arms, that you belong. As cringe-worthy as it sounds, your ears tune out all of your surroundings and only seem to be able to focus on the rhythmic beating of Jungkook’s heart. And when your arms come up around him to circle around his waist, the pace of his heart increases and you finally know that you are not the only one who is feeling things. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, is absolutely livid, irises flaring red as he looks at the two of you hugging so dearly, so natural that it is as if you two have been hugging for years. One side of Yoongi, the selfish side, wants to rip you from Jungkook’s arms and claim you as his, as if he is the hound of hades, guarding the gates of the world the two of you have built together, preventing Jungkook from ever entering your world and snatching you away. But the other side of Yoongi, the one that grounds himself to reality should his love for you cause him to do utterly idiotic things, tells him to come to terms with the fact that you will never be involved with him romantically, tells him to just let you go, tells him to deal with his own idiotic actions. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook is, and will forever be his biggest regret. But at the same time, how could he not? When you had gazed up at him with mirth-filled eyes, smile shining brighter than any star to exist in the cosmos. How could he not when he could basically feel your voice worm its way into his chest, festering something so captivating that he could not help but do something, anything to hear that tone in your voice again and feel the flowers bloom in his heart, a sweet, summer warmth melting him like candle wax. How could he rob you, the one person he has loved with all his heart, mind and soul of your happiness?

The answer is that he cannot. 

So, instead of socking Jungkook in the face, instead of tearing you from Jungkook’s arms and kissing you with passionate ferocity, Yoongi circles your hugging bodies so that you can see him, gently tapping you to get your attention. Your head pops out from Jungkook’s chest and you look at Yoongi over his shoulder. When your eyes lock, your arms still around Jungkook and Jungkook’s arms still around you, he whispers as softly as he can so that you cannot hear the cracking of his heart in his voice. And despite the excruciating amount of pain he is feeling in this moment, Yoongi manages to proffer you a small smile. 

“You win.”

His words refer to a plethora of things; his heart, his life, this one-sided game he has been playing. And then, before you can question anything, he leaves you to deliberate what on earth those two words should signify other than that game of tag that just decided Yoongi’s and your destiny. 

Because did you actually win or did you just lose everything?

#min yoongi #suga #yoongi #angst #yoongi angst #bts #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #suga imagines #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi au #suga au #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #fanfiction #bts scenarios #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n

[frenchie-sottises]

Skelebros Headcannons.

No one asked for these, but whatever. Also, there may be some triggers, so be aware. (It’s mainly trauma stuff.)

Also, this is like, super fucking long. I included quite a few versions.

Papyrus:

- Is over 7′9 without the boots. He’s 7′11 with them. - Smarter than he looks. (I might as well say that this is confirmed cause he apparently knows of Sans’s ability to prank people across time and space.) - Isn’t the best cook when it comes to dishes other than spaghetti, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn. Excellent baker though! - He didn’t jump out of the window because he forgot the door exists. It’s his way of being comedic. (And it worked.) - He loves Sans’s puns, but he only gets so salty because he feels like the timing could be better. - Almost burned down the house once when he tried to make spaghetti the way Undyne did it, so he learned to tone tf down. He only gets rambunctious when he cooks with Undyne cause, come on, it’s fun to go nuts every now and again. - Isn’t afraid to curse, but he doesn’t do it cause it’s rude.

Sans:

- Is over 5′2 and is literally big boned. (All the Sanses are, really.) - Doesn’t actually know that Papyrus loves his puns. - The jacket he wears is something he made, so this means he’s good at sewing. - He went outside without a shirt once, so when he made the joke about the cold going through him, he opened his jacket as the wind went through. He got sick like a dumbass hours later. - Speaking of dumbasses, he managed to get Papyrus to call him one for getting sick. He’s managed to get Papyrus to cuss also. (They still love each other dearly, don’t worry.) - He totally doesn’t have PTSD. Nope, not at all. It’s definitely not from the genocide routes and seeing his brother get killed multiple times. - Because of his trauma and not having the proper resources to help it, he suffers a form of CFS. (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.)

Edge:

- Is over 7′10 without the boots. Is 8′2 with them. - No one knows how he can wear heels in the snow. (He runs in them for crying out loud.) - Can be easily flustered when it comes to flirting, but when he’s in the mood to be saucy? Oh boy. - Is practically a professional chef and baker. Undyne’s lessons made him realize that he has to teach himself if he wants to provide decent meals. - Is rough with his brother, but he isn’t straight up mean. It’s more along the lines of him struggling to be kind and gentle out in public. - Half of his encounters usually don’t involve him doing anything. He’s just that intimidating. - People mostly know him for being loud and angry 24/7, but this isn’t always the case. He can control his volume when he needs to, and is actually pretty damn tame. It’s pretty rare to see him genuinely angry.

Red:

- Is the shortest Sans in this list standing at 5′0. - His sweating mostly comes from him trying not to piss off his brother despite the fact that said brother’s made it clear that he would never be angry at him. - He has PTSD, but due to the environment, his symptoms tend to be worse. - He’s resorted to cutting himself several times. His brother has no clue though. - Struggles with his moral code more than his brother. He’s torn between following his own path and suffering possible consequences from the king, and being loyal to the king at all costs to avoid his wrath. - His shoes are always untied, so it’s not uncommon to see him on the ground face down. - If given the chance to take his mind off of things, he will take it. Drugs are off-hands though. You can thank Edge for that.

Stretch:

- Is over 7′6 when he’s not slouching. - The cig’s gonna be lit, but he doesn’t smoke. He only does it cause it makes him look cool. - He actually doesn’t use any drugs, but he did get himself high one time via weed brownies for pure shits and giggles. Boy, was he high off his ass. - Unlike the classic Sans, his jokes have better timing. He’s made Blueberry laugh several times. - “I can make every dirty joke in existence... AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!” - Stretch at one point in time. - Has an endless supply of hoodies and it confuses his brother to this day. - He’s learned to give mercy while making you wish you were dead. (I may or may not have watched Rising of the Shield Hero.)

Blueberry:

- Is over 5′6 with the boots. Is only 5′5 without them. - Has a bod that screams the power to wrestle BEARS. - Someone teach him how to cook. He keeps overcooking the fucking TACO MEAT- - He has the body of a himbo, the personality of a himbo, and the mind of a himbo- okay, maybe the last one is a little inaccurate. He can be pretty smart. - May or may not be a bit of a perv. - His smile is so bright that it lightens up just about everyone’s moods. - Is a fantastic artist and no one can tell him otherwise.

Pup (Swapfell):

- Is over 7′3 when he’s not slouching. - Does actually smoke. - His blind eye was given from his brother playing far too rough. - He likes to rob people, but will learn to stop if the victim is shown to be far too powerful for him to handle. - Despite his not-so-welcomed attitude, when he’s put in a place where there is no threat of his brother, he can be quite friendly. - Has tried to feel people up in the past, but constantly keeps having his ass handed to him. - Makes only dirty jokes.

Blackberry (Swapfell):

- Is over 5′7 with the boots. Is only 5′4 without them. - Really needs his ass handed to him. - He can say he loves his brother all he wants. Doesn’t excuse why he treats him like shit. - He tends to poison his food when it comes to others. It could possibly contribute to why his brother steals other’s money. (And by “poison”, I mean he’s not a good cook. At all.) - Although he fights a lot, his body doesn’t quite match up to par, and he hates it. - Is easily jealous and possessive. - Surprisingly doesn’t actually swear when he swears.

Slim (Fellswap Red):

- Is over 7′3, and he doesn’t slouch. - Has the fluffiest jacket in existence and wears a lot of the bigger collars. - Is an absolute sweetheart when his brother’s not around. (More so than Red.) - Although he often drinks hot sauce, he’d rather prefer BBQ sauce. - Actually handles his PTSD better than his other lazy counterparts. - Has a bad habit of falling in love too easily. - Is very reserved and quiet for the most part.

Bloodberry (Fellswap Red):

- Is over 5′9 with the boots. Is only 5′6 without them. - Has a bad tendency to be saucy with someone he likes. - Is a decent cook when it comes down to it. - Also struggles with being kind in public. - Has taken a liking to archery. He’s even become good at it. - He hates the queen, but mainly because she’s always cruel to her subjects. He hopes to overthrow her for the betterment of the kingdom. - Unlike Blackberry, he does care for his brother.

Wine (Fellswap Gold):

- Is over 7′4, and he doesn’t slouch. - Since he mostly writes, he’s become a very good writer and artist. - Whenever he’s given a compliment, he sits in silence. He usually doesn’t receive them, so when he does, he kind of just.. breaks. - Like his blacklist, he has a list of names of those who have been extremely kind to him. - Tries not to become someone who has to depend on someone else. - He has days where the braces on his canines hurt like all hell, so he’ll wind up with tears in his eyes. - The constant oppression gets to him sometimes. He isn’t violent, but he will continuously cry and whimper.

Coffee (Fellswap Gold):

- Is over 6′0 with the boots. Is only 5′10 without them. - Wants to try and fix the kingdom so its people aren’t so oppressed. - Will be there for his brother within seconds. - Learned to be a decent cook for his brother. - The oppression gets to him also, but it’s mainly from the people. - A lot of the clothes he and his brother wear are from his own hands. - Has taught his brother some military fighting to protect himself as he is related to someone who the people hate.

Axe (Horrortale):

- Is the biggest Sans on this list standing at 6′7. - Is also the strongest in terms of physical strength. - Really needs to stop seeing human flesh and regular food as the same thing. - To those he cares for, he becomes almost like a guard dog but 10x scarier. - None of the Sanses and Papyruses aside from his own brother mess with him. - If someone is not scared of him for whatever reason, he has some respect for that. He just doesn’t really show it. - Gets easily spooked by really loud noises.

Everest (Horrortale):

- The tallest Papyrus standing at 9′2 with the boots. He’s only 9′0 without them. This also assumes he isn’t slouching, but he always is. - After being without food for so long, he struggles to not eat human flesh. - His kindness challenges classic Papyrus’s. - He hit a growth spurt far too early, and it’s why he’s slouching. (It’s kind of like he suffered Gigantism, but he stopped growing eventually.) - Compared to the other active counterparts, he’s the weakest. - Because of him being so thin, he tends to freeze far more easily. - When he’s pushed in a corner, he will fight back, but it’s best if his brother is with him.

And that ends that. I had these ideas going for a while, so I decided to spill them here. Hope y’all like these.

#Frenchie Rambles #Headcannons #Undertale #Underfell #Underswap #Swapfell #Fellswap #Horrortale #Papyrus #Sans #Underfell!Papyrus #Underfell!Sans #Underswap!Papyrus #Underswap!Sans #Swapfell!Papyrus #swapfel #Fellswap!Papyrus #Fellswap!Sans #Horrortale!Papyrus #Horrortale!Sans

[concussed-to-pieces]

Stay Safe Part Seven: Like A Ghost

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, welcome! I will apologize for word count, but I will never apologize for length...or girth. Enjoy!

Tag List: @wrestlingfae @huliabitch @helplessly-nonstop @toxiicpop @culturalrebel @sinnamon-bunn @literal-fand0m-trash @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst @kylolover96 @crownofmanga @eli-bourne @lackofhonor @talesfromtheguild

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

Part Five: Dark Past

Part Six: Go Alone

He was silent for quite a while and you were loathe to break it, sitting on the edge of the co-pilot seat with the harness secured loosely around you. A force of habit, more than anything.

He appeared to be studying the various star charts, flipping back and forth between two particular ones to select the shortest route to the next destination. You were still uncertain as to why he had requested your presence; your navigational skills were bare-bones compared to his, so that couldn't be it.

"You remember what I said about the button on the comlink?" The Mandalorian asked abruptly, making you straighten up. "That it sticks?"

"Yeah, of course. You told me a few times." You responded, your brow furrowed. "Why, did something happen?"

"That night, you…" he paused, clearing his throat. "After you said good night."

Oh no.

"I thought you were in pain."

No no no.

"At least, that's what I thought a-at first." Even through your panic, you picked up on his voice sounding strange again.

"I-I--" You stuttered, your mind spooling back all the incredibly embarrassing, incriminating things you had said. Maker. "Look, I-"

"Do you do that often?" He questioned bluntly. He hadn't turned to look at you and that, of all things, made you angry.

"Listen, I get it, okay? It's gross, someone like me getting off on thinking about someone like you. Miles worse since you had to hear it, I'm sure." You spat, your embarrassment compounding to a scalding fury. "I wish it hadn't happened, but now that I know it did all I can say is forget-"

The sound of his harness buckle hitting the side of his chair interrupted your heated rant and the next thing you knew he was standing over you, leather gloves creaking from the pressure of his fists clenching. You quailed a little, suddenly unsure of yourself. What if he thought you were dirty, disgusting for fantasizing about him? Oh Maker, what if he was angry? What if he forced you to leave? What if-

The Mandalorian jabbed a finger down to undo your own buckle, his grip unforgiving steel when he tugged you up out of your seat. You stared hard at his chest, willing yourself not to cry.

"I couldn't get your sounds out of my head." He rasped finally. "I was up all night. Couldn't sleep." His hand moved up slowly, like he was in a trance, and he ran his thumb over your lower lip. "Th-Thinking about you spread out on the floor, whimpering for me." He muttered, and you started to realize that he was absolutely not angry. This was...something else. "Begging for…sounded like you were right next to me a-and you're this beautiful...fucking, perfect-" He stopped abruptly, his words choking off in his throat. 

It was restraint. 

Iron restraint was keeping him barely reined-in but he wanted this, the breaths panting out through the modulator a tell-tale sign that he was under duress. He pulled off his right glove and reached out hesitantly, cradling your hand in his bare palm when you didn't move away. 

His fingers were so hot. You could feel them trembling and you wondered what thoughts must be running rampant in his head as you folded your other hand over his own, keeping it there. He inhaled raggedly, his helmet listing to the side. "Maker, I've been--I was…" 

"What?" You whispered, feeling as though you were trying to approach a wild animal.

He appeared to be having trouble articulating. For all his self-assurance, he had never really displayed any sort of awe-inspiring grasp of linguistics. The tradeoff for a creed of people that so often ended up solitary, you reasoned. In a way, it was endearing. 

A soft noise issued from him, almost a groan, almost a sigh, and he lifted his free hand to his chest. His index and middle finger drew a circle and then he rapped his knuckles against the beskar over his heart, steel ringing softly in the silence of the cockpit. "K'oyacyi, stay alive, stay safe." He murmured. "An order, rigid, firm, with heart underneath it."

Oh.

"Do you remember the first time you said that to me?" The Mandalorian pressed on, "You were still scared of me, but you said it anyway. Right before I tangled with Dune. "

You erupted into giggles. "I know, you got covered in needles from those trees."

"Thought I'd never get all of them out of my cape." He was smiling, you could hear it in his voice.

"You sound nice when you smile." 

"I...h-how...thank you." He stammered. 

He stepped back after a moment, gesturing down at the star charts. Destination: Nevarro. The place you had called home for over a cycle. The place where you had once longed to return. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you had been cowering in the hold, begging to be delivered safely to Nevarro.

"I'm...I'm bringing you back. This is where you wanted to go." He said with difficulty. "Once we arrive, I..." He paused, looking down at you. "I don't know what will happen."

"I'm coming with you." You said quickly.

You felt the difference, the shift in his attitude. One moment he had been warm, the next, an impenetrable wall of beskar slid up between you. "No, you're not." 

You wanted to scream at the change, to rail at it until he relented and gave you back that brief taste of what you had been searching for all this time. The man, not the mystery. "How am I supposed to keep you safe if you go places without me?" You reasoned wildly, trying to phrase it like you were joking.

"I don't need you to keep me safe." For all his hatred of droids, he certainly excelled at channeling their impassive demeanor. "I would rather you stayed out of this. It's business between the Guild and myself."

"Then why are Cara and Kuiil here too?" You challenged.

"That's...they're here to…" He shook his head and looked back towards the viewport, obviously frustrated and either unwilling or unable to explain himself.

Your heart sank in grim realization. "You're going to do something."

"I'm always doing someth-"

"You know what I mean!" You interrupted him sharply. "Something that you shouldn't do. I heard the message, most of it anyway."

"It's something that I have to do." He sighed, the sound bone-tired. "Otherwise, they'll just send more hunters after the kid. It's better this way. Better if I go along with the plan."

"B-But-"

He reached for you abruptly, hands gripping your shoulders. "What would you do? Since you've got all the answers?" He growled. "I can't keep running. We've barely made it this far. I won't get steady work without the Guild. If I do this, Karga wipes my record and I can get back to the way things were. The kid shouldn't have to be fucking hunted, running scared all the time!"

You glared up at him, furious because of course there was nothing you could do to change his mind. You didn't have a solution to this problem and he knew it, yet he still wanted to take it out on you! "Don't yell at me, you-!" Angry words seethed in your chest, molten hot like lava. You wanted to rage at him, stars knew you wanted to. But instead, tears welled up in your eyes. "Y-You--!" Maker, why couldn't you just be angry? "You're so stupid!" You sobbed out.

He was silent in the wake of your tumultuous explosion, hesitantly digging his thumbs in to rub comforting circles on your shoulders after several minutes of just standing there like a statue. "I don't know what else to do." He admitted, his voice nothing but a soft whisper. "All I know is what I have to do. You need to understand, the IG and I...I made the choice to hunt the kid first. I turned him in first. I took the payment first."

"You g-gave them the baby?" You snuffled incredulously. "I thought-"

"They offered me an entire camtono of beskar." He replied, his voice dark with shame. Your eyes widened, breath catching in your chest. So much! "Slid me an ingot beforehand to sweeten the pot. It was Purge-smelted, like the one you had. It needed to be brought back to the tribe. Healed. Melted down to sponsor Foundlings." He sounded like he was still trying to convince himself, still trying to justify his actions. "This is the Way." 

"Stars." You breathed. 

"I handed over the kid, got my beskar, and I...I just...I realized that I had…" He was struggling again, settling for a shrug. "So I went and stole him back and then left." He cocked his head to the side, his tone gone wryly fond. "That's when you showed up." 

The individual in gleaming beskar armor gave no sign that they heard you, their rifle barrel trained between your eyes--

Now that you knew what had transpired immediately prior to your arrival, you were even more impressed that he hadn't shot you on sight. "I'm going with you. I don't care." You hiccupped, wiping your eyes. 

"That's the problem. I do." His voice pitched lower with sincerity, fingers digging in slightly. "How many damn times have I put you in danger? Between Sorgan, Toro, the stunt with Ranzar's group? This isn't a life you want, stowaway." He was trying to convince you, you realized, possibly himself as well. 

"I want a life with you." You whispered, your words naked and honest.

The Mandalorian's voice sounded raw even through the modulator. "No, you don't."

His hands left your shoulders and you almost started crying again, only just managing to fend off the impulse through sheer, indomitable spite. You seized his bare hand before he could move away from you and you raised it to your lips.

"Don't," he breathed, his helmet bowed against his shoulder. "You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be."

"I don't believe you." You knew the words were cruel, but you didn't regret them. You stared defiantly up at the impassive man, then you kissed his knuckles. 

And all hell broke loose.

The Mandalorian ripped his hand out of your hold and grabbed a fistful of your tunic, shoving you back against the wall. "You think so?" He seethed through his teeth. "You really--you believe-I--" His body crowded yours, beskar breastplate rising and falling against your chest with every furious breath he took. Your own breathing hitched, legs trembling slightly as you stared him down. "Do you have any idea how hard you're making this for me?!" He finally managed to snarl. Not angry but frustrated, scared.

His pelvis rested against yours, and through his flight suit... "Yeah." You replied, giving him your cheekiest smirk. "Yeah, I'm getting an idea."

"You-" he stopped short, obviously confused before you pointedly rolled your hips. His helm dropped and he sucked in a ragged breath, the hand still fisted in your shirt tugging you hesitantly closer after a moment. "More. Fuck, I just-" His other hand grappled with your belt loops, wrenching your lower half flush to his. "More."

You squirmed in an effort to get comfortable and he snapped his teeth with an audible click!, the noise sending lightning sparks through your body. As he tilted his head back, no doubt in an attempt to regain some composure, the thick column of his throat revealed itself tantalizingly from beneath the layers of beskar and cowling.

"Want to touch you." He said helplessly.

"I'm not going to stop you."

"I know, that's the fucking problem." 

"That seems like the exact opposite of a problem to me." You tucked your face against his shoulder, fingers dragging his cowl out of the way, and you felt his whole body tense as you pressed your mouth to the sensitive skin of his throat.

The Mandalorian made a noise that sounded almost pained, his gloved hand shooting up to thread through your hair. "Maker, you...fuck-" His voice cracked when you bit down gently. "Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I want--"

"What do you want?" You asked softly.

"I--" The armored man surged forward to nudge his knee between your legs, spreading them wider. His fingers fought with your placket for a split-second, and then he had it splayed open. "You." He growled, gracelessly shoving his bare hand into your underwear. He stopped dead, clearly startled by how wet you already were. "Oh, you--you-?"

As if he hadn't had you in his helmet the other night begging him to fuck you. You whimpered, licking and nipping at the skin of his neck to try and encourage him to keep moving. "Come on, don't stop-"

His fingers shakily curved to cup your mound, rapid breathing all but deafening through the modulator. "You're so warm." He sounded dazed, his index finger tracing your slit before his knuckles collided with the slick that had pooled in your panties. "Maker, I just-"

His hand slithered free and you whined at the loss, confused when he quickly clapped his other hand over your eyes. There was a soft chuff of air and then you heard the distinct noise of a tongue hard at work. Your thighs clenched instinctively. Gods, was he tasting you? The low, unmodulated groan that followed only intensified your suspicions and arousal in equal measure.

"So hot." His bare fingers delved back into your drenched pussy, smearing your slick liberally around your clit. He hadn't removed the hand from your eyes yet, warm leather kissing your cheekbones. "You're so wet, I--fuck-" Whatever limited articulation he did possess seemed to have been thrown to the wayside, the Mandalorian resorting to a litany of sighed swears that had your body rocking against his hand. 

The hand that he kept pulling free. You could hear him shoving his helmet up to taste you every time, licking your arousal off of his fingers like he was starving. 

This was all achingly one-sided, despite his original protests. "H-Hey." You said shakily, trying to get his attention, "not that I'm not having legitimately the best time of my life, b-but I'm not doing anything for you-"

"Wrong." He replied breathlessly. "Everything for me."

"I just feel like--I-!" Your voice cracked, then broke embarrassingly high when he hooked his fingers a certain way and ground the heel of his palm up. You grabbed his shoulders, your body caving into his as your legs started to tremble.

"Everything for me." He repeated, feverishly working his thumb in circles around your clit. "Everything, everything-" He nudged your face against his neck, muffling your hungry whimpers and moans with his cowl. "-Perfect-"

Your nails dug into his pauldrons and a satisfied growl rumbled in his chest as you came apart under his touch. 

His hand finally left your eyes, but at that point you were having difficulty opening them anyway. You dimly heard him tearing at his zippers, the lower fly of his flight suit apparently giving him some trouble. He snarled and the feral noise ripped down your back like a searing blade, making you quiver against the wall. 

His gloved hand cupped the back of your neck, tugging your head down until you lazily blinked open your eyes, somnolent and simply luxuriating in the feeling. "Look." He breathed, seeming almost shy.

Oh. Oh, he was huge. 

You were absolutely looking. 

He had his cock in hand, the whole surface shining with a mixture of precome and your own arousal. As you watched, the head of it slowly vanished into his fist, and then emerged even slicker than before. "You're such a tease." You whimpered, loving the way his hips jerked at the sound of your voice. "Are you going to put it into me or do I have to beg?"

"You...you want-?" The Mandalorian sounded absolutely shattered. 

"Please, please fuck me." You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to the bare skin you could find. "Please." Granted, you were unsure of your body's capability to take...all of that, but you were absolutely game to try.

"Stars, you're killing me." He grated out, tugging at your pants so you could kick them off. Strong hands gripped the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you up against his body, shoving his liner shirt to the side in the process. His cock ended up trapped between the slick folds of your pussy and his stomach and you loved the helpless noise he made in his throat.

Your back hit the wall a little higher than before and you wrapped your legs around his hips, wriggling into a slightly more comfortable position. 

"Tell me to stop." He begged, his cock throbbing against your sensitive clit as he shifted his hips. The motions sent tiny little shudders of delight up and down your spine. 

In reply, you rested your forehead on his helmet, staring into the visor. You imagined you caught the faintest glimpse of his eyes, wide and waiting. "You want me to ask nicely?" You crooned, "Please fuck me."

His cock slowly, slowly surged up into you, the blunt press of it robbing you of your breath. The Mandalorian's snarl was music to your ears, "Have t-t--go...slow." And stars he was huge, huge, you were bewildered that you were managing so well on this first push. You thanked the Maker that he had already made you come once, at least he wouldn't have any lubrication issues!

Words appeared to fail him rapidly, the armored man focused solely on burying his cock in you as deeply as he could. You finally felt the fabric of his flight suit against your groin and you growled, your fingers raking hungrily at his back plating. "Fuc-kk--y-you're so big-" You gasped.

His first real thrust ruined you. Your back arched and your mouth fell open of its own accord as the breath left your body, your mind dissolving into static. The Mandalorian pressed his forehead to your own. "S'--okay?" He slurred, clearly concerned but not in the right frame of mind to fully coordinate a sentence.

"Move, oh please, please," You begged, "fuck me open, f-fuck me, fuck me-"

His cock withdrew, and-and--

"M'sorry-" he choked out, cradling the back of your head to keep it from hitting the wall as he mercilessly pounded your cunt. "So--hot, wet, I--"

"Don't stop, please please please-" you sobbed against his neck, your fists clenched into his flight suit. "P-lease, I need it, I need you, gods I need you so much-" The words tumbled from your lips, as brutally honest as you could let yourself be, as he fucked them out of you. "I need you so much, I need you so much--"

I love you so much, I love you so much.

"N-Need…" You felt his body go taut underneath you, the tension making his cock throb at your inner walls. "You--me?" 

"Yes." You keened, your second orgasm building to a crest in your belly.

"So good-" Every impressive inch of him plunged into you and then he stopped, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held still for the barest second. "Safe." His helmet tipped back and he groaned, fumbling his free hand down to stroke your clit and fuck you through your orgasm. "I--want you, p-please--all this skin, f-uck, y-yes you feel so--!" 

He was grunting, straining, snarling out half-nonsense and then you raised one trembling hand to his chest. Two fingers traced a circle on the center of his beskar plate and as his chin tipped down to watch you, you tapped your knuckles over his heart. "Safe." You whispered.

He came in you with a seething moan, his fingers clawing at your hips while you clung tightly to him. 

Heavy breaths rattled his entire body. You weren't much better, your chest heaving against his own. The Mandalorian groaned deep in his throat, dragging at the hem of your tunic. "What's wrong?" You asked breathlessly.

He didn't answer, just continued to haul the tunic up and over your head. He then rutted his hips up, punching a pitiful little whine out of you. How was he still hard?!

"More." He begged. 

…

The Mandalorian's head tipped back and he swore, the noise gravelly. 

You sprawled comfortably between his legs, naked as the day you were born and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You had been there for an extended period of time, though you didn't particularly care. The pace you had set was languid, unhurried, and he seemed perfectly happy to just sit in his pilot chair with his cock resting on your tongue.

The urgency that he displayed earlier hadn't faded at all despite that, both of his now-ungloved hands hungrily stroking over your jaw, your shoulders, the back of your neck. 

"If I don't--don't-" He gasped out suddenly. "I want you to know, I-"

You pulled off of his cock and he grunted, shuddering. "You can just blow off steam, you know. Not everything has to have an important reason." You informed him, your nails scratching lightly at the flight suit that still covered his thighs. You ducked back down to kiss and lick at his balls, and you heard him choke when your tongue soothed over the sensitive skin. 

His abdomen spasmed underneath the thin liner shirt, muscles twitching and jumping the longer you lavished his balls with attention. "W-hy--I don't-I don't--" He stuttered, rushing to wrap his fist around the base of his cock to hold his orgasm back again. This would mark the fourth time since you had settled between his legs, but you were hardly complaining. "Oh, fuck, f--uck-" 

"Don't you want to come?" You asked curiously, licking a wet stripe up the side of his cock and fingers. 

His helmet slammed back against the headrest hard enough to make you wince. "W-Want--hngh-I don't want this t-to...don't want it to end. Feel so good-!" 

His voice broke when you grazed your fingernails softly over his balls. Despite him coming in you earlier, he seemed to have more than enough to spare. You wondered with a lewd thrill just how much he might come if he was toyed with long enough. 

"Used t' think about--about this. A-About. You." He confessed guiltily. "Fuck my fist, wishing it was your...c--unt, fuck-" 

"Yeah? Did you get off on me?" You asked teasingly. "Did you wish you were fucking me?"

"I d-didn't mean to-" he moaned, the noise almost a whimper. "I just...you were...g-good to me, n' sometimes I would--I would--" He spread his legs a little wider and shoved his liner shirt up, exposing the planes of his abdomen to you in a languid show. He then slid a single finger down the side of his cock, smearing the precome that had seeped forth once you removed your mouth. "Fuck my fist, just--j-just wishing that I could…" He choked off his train of thought when you leaned up and licked at the skin he had revealed. "Oh, oh, fuck-"

"I'll suck you off for as long as you want, and you can fuck me for as long as you want." You breathed. 

"N-No, no, have to do something for you t-too." The Mandalorian protested, his hands grasping at your shoulders. "I can't just t-ake-"

"You want to do something for me?"

"Anything. Wh-Whatever you want."

"Kiss me?" You whispered.

His entire body went still. "I…" 

"You can cover my eyes, but I promise I won't peek. It doesn't even have to be on the mouth, if you don't want to! I just…" You fidgeted and glanced down, feeling weirdly shy all of a sudden. "I just wanted to know, I-I guess."

"Sit up here." He ordered as he patted his thighs, his voice breathless. "Sit." You obliged, straddling him as best as you could with his legs spread so far apart. You ended up with your mound pressed to his stomach, your pussy grinding against his cock with every shaky breath he took. "I'm going to cover your eyes now." Why was he whispering? He raised his hand, tenderly cupping your cheek before he smoothed it down over your eyes.

"I can't take it off for you, right?" You asked. "That's not allowed?"

He murmured, "has to be me." Blind to everything and anything except the overwhelming presence that was him, you closed your eyes behind his palm and waited patiently. 

There was the soft chuff of air that you had heard over and over earlier when he was...enjoying you. Then, the quiet slide of his skin against the inner padding. 

"Oh-! Dammit." He swore a split-second before there was a loud clatter on the floor. You burst out laughing. "Rude, stowaway. Shouldn't kick a man when he's down." Even through his protests, you could tell he was smiling. "Lost my grip on it."

You raised your hands, blindly feeling along his arms until you reached his shoulders. He still had his pauldrons on, the beskar smooth under your touch. You walked your fingers up the sides of his neck, surprised when you felt thick hair grazing your knuckles at the nape of his neck. "Okay, so maybe you do have hair." You allowed, lacing your fingers through it and tugging gently.

"Were you still--Maker, you're impossible." He huffed, leaning forward. His stubble brushed your ear and you flinched, squealing a little when he tongued over the ticklish skin. "Got you." He exhaled and suddenly it wasn't ticklish anymore. Straight teeth worried the sensitive shell of your ear and you whimpered, unable to keep from twitching at the feeling. "Mm, what's the matter?" The Mandalorian murmured playfully. "You said I didn't have to kiss you on the mouth." 

"Yeah, b-but--" You cut yourself off, your fingernails digging into the nape of his neck when he plunged his hot, wet tongue into your ear before mouthing all around the edge. For some reason the sensation had you wound tight, a new wave of slick rising in your core. "Ah-!"

He brought his free hand down to your pussy, carefully spreading your folds with his fingers. "What's the matter?" He crooned in your ear again, tapping his thumb lightly down onto your clit. He then nipped at your earlobe, tongue laving over the skin. "Was there something else you needed? You're dripping the come I pumped into you all over my beskar." He whispered. "Could keep you splayed open like this for hours, just so I could watch your insides twitch and clench down on nothing while you're waiting for more." 

"Y-You-" You wished your voice didn't sound so breathy. You couldn't decide which you preferred: his wild stammering when he was out of control, or his unflinchingly honest speech when he could manage himself accordingly. "You're not f-fair--"

"Mm, odds are usually not in my favor." He agreed. He wrapped his soaked fingers around his cock, giving himself a lazy stroke and then rubbing the head against your clit. "You're so fucking...warm," he grunted, his thighs shifting restlessly underneath you. "I want to put my cock back into you. Will you let me fuck you again?" He asked, not giving you enough time to answer before indignantly replying, "What, no? Damn, you drive a hard bargain. What if I offered to...kiss you on the mouth? Would you let me put my cock in you then?" 

You found yourself laughing at his teasing, butting your forehead against his own even though his palm was still over your eyes. "You're so dumb." You snickered. "How was I ever scared of you?"

"Because I'm strong and fast." He replied bluntly. "The armor helps."

"Your modesty is your finest quality." You snarked, a soft whimper fighting its way free when he rocked the head of his cock against your entrance again.

"Hmm, I don't remember you begging for my modesty the other night." He taunted you in reply. "If I recall correctly, you got a little...possessive. 'Your Mandalorian', was it?"

You swore under your breath. You got the feeling you would never, ever live that moment of weakness down. But seeing as it had led to this, you could probably endure his lighthearted jabs. "Well, yes. I did say that." You admitted. "Did it make you uncomfortable?"

"Fuck no." His teeth grazed your ear again and you shivered before you could stop yourself. "It was...it was nice to hear you all strung out, fucking yourself to the idea of me." You could feel the curve of his lips, could hear the bastard smiling. "The speaker is right in my ear, so it was like having you next to me." His unmodulated voice was like warm honey, husky, rich and golden. You had never thought that a voice could be so enthralling. "You're moving your hips again, stowaway." His fingers returned to your pussy, spreading you wide once more. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy doing that, if only to make you squirm. "Something you want?"

You reached down and took hold of his cock, smiling at the way his breathing hitched. "This." You splayed a palm on his chest, feeling the thunder of his heartbeat there. "All of this." Your fingers rose from his chest to his mouth, where you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. "And this."

"Yours already. All of it." He sighed, the noise turning into a growl when you angled your hips and eased the head of his cock into your cunt. "All of it. Every inch, every...s-stupid thing out of my mouth, everything." 

"I like most of the things that come out of your mouth." You assured him, bracing yourself on his thighs and slowly, slowly lowering your pussy all the way down on his cock. Your pelvis slotted against his with a wet noise and you could feel your arousal trickle out around his cock and down your thighs.

"Hah, you...y-you…" You felt his hand squeeze your face momentarily, and then his mouth collided with your own. You whined and he snarled, that hot tongue seeking your own out after a split-second. He licked into your mouth hungrily like he was starving for a taste of you, only backing off to gasp, "Y-You're so wet-"

You bit down on his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth so you could harass it with your teeth and tongue. The Mandalorian made a strangled noise in his throat as your tongue flicked back and forth over the sensitive flesh before you released him again. 

"Can't even th-think straight right now." He admitted, sliding his free hand beneath you to support your back. "Maker, between your fucking mouth and your c--cunt, it's a miracle I'm still--" His words jerked to a halt and you heard him swallow audibly. "Oh. Oh." He gritted out.

You rocked your hips back and forth a little faster, knowing that he could handle a rougher pace. He curved inside you deliciously, the length of him only marginally easier to manage with you in control.

"Wait, wait wait, I'm--fuck, wait, I-" 

"What's the matter?" You asked breathlessly. "Too much for you?" You felt his hand grapple fiercely at the small of your back, grinding your pussy down onto his cock. He started rambling in Mando'a, the words ragged as you continued your merciless attack without quarter. This was one fight you were determined to not let him win. 

"Cyar'ika," he moaned, his mouth finding your own. "I'm-I'm--f-uck, fuck fuck, I'll fucking--I'll f-ucking split y--split this sweet little c-cunt--" His whole body went taut beneath you, ramming his cock up to meet you over and over. "You take me so...s-so fucking good, so good, so good t' me--" The wet sounds, the heat of his body against your own in his frenzied fucking and the way that his voice cracked combined to be the thing that finally tipped the two of over the edge. As you felt him start to let go, you took one of your hands and fisted it in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, directing him to look down at where your bodies joined.

"I want you t-to watch. Without the helmet." You panted, feeling more than hearing his raspy groan in reply. "So you can remember."

"I'm not going to f--orget, fuck, fuck, like I could e-ever for-g-get this--" The words stumbled out of his mouth, tangled in a dazed little knot, "--ever forget you." His body shuddered and he finally ground to a halt, dragging you against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder as he came with a hoarse shout. 

You circled your hips on his still-twitching cock, your own orgasm close behind from how hard he had been pounding up into you. His voice sounded destroyed when he cried out, and you couldn't determine whether he was begging for mercy or more. His free hand fumbled between the two of you to tease one of your nipples; you could do nothing to help the pitiful noise you made when he pinched and tugged at the sensitive bud. 

"Come for me. C-Come for me. Come for me." Whether a plea or an order, it was unavoidable. You came for him, the intensity making your skin prickle and your eyes open wide behind his hand. "Yes..." He drew the word out alongside your keening moan of completion, long and slow, praising you in that husky, now almost reverent tone. 

You collapsed into him and you felt his mouth curve against your neck, stubbled smile teasing the skin while you fought to regain your breath. His arm reached for something on the floor, and you heard the slide of his helmet after a moment. Then, he removed his palm from your eyes. 

The Mandalorian grunted softly and there was a delicate crackling noise beside your ear. "Fuck, that's a cramp." He grimaced, making you huff out a laugh. "Ow, ow. My wrist is...not pleased."

"Mm, should have just taken the chance." You mused, your eyes still closed. 

"Chancy enough, getting this naked." He flicked over your nipple, chuckling softly when you whined. "Gods, you are perfect." He murmured. "I'll miss this."

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You sat up slowly, staring at his visor. "Why? Wh-Where-?"

"I don't know how sideways all of this will go." He replied simply. "I have a gut feeling."

Your hands fisted in his liner shirt. "So don't go, then."

"You know it's not that simple. If I don't, they'll keep hunting the kid."

"We can hide!" You suggested wildly. "Stay in the Outer Rim, hunker down on Dathomir or Felucia-"

"Until what?" His pragmatism cut you to the quick. "Until the Crest falls apart and we end up stranded in some asteroid field?" You fell silent, your fingers kneading at his chest in a silent plea, don't go. "I'm not doing this. I'm not going to drag you along this time. Whether you agree or not, I'm not involving you."

It felt like he had just stolen all the air out of your body, tears welling up in your eyes as those traitorous arms wrapped around you. His palms were large and warm, rubbing firm circles into the abruptly-cold skin of your back. You were suddenly awash with shame, and you pulled away from his comforting embrace. He made a noise, almost a protest, but you shook it off and struggled to stand. 

"Easy, hang on to me. You'll fall over." He offered, his hand already out for you to grab. You ignored it in favor of jerking your panties back up your legs, nearly toppling with the effort. "Hey, you-"

"Don't touch me." You breathed, seconds from bursting into tears. "Just...just don't." You felt disgusting, sore, your body aching and tender from the overstimulation it had just received. 

A soft, "oh," was all he gave in reply. His voice sounded defeated and more than anything you wanted to fling yourself back at him, to beg forgiveness and also kill him because how could he do this to you? How could he give everything to you and then take it all away in an instant?

You refused to look at him while you continued to dress yourself, certain that your incredibly fragile resolve would give out if you saw him tilting his head or any of the other little things he did that had wormed their way into your heart. But you were also seized with the fierce desire to wound him like he had wounded you. 

And so, as you turned to climb down the ladder you tossed out a flippant, haughty, "This is the Way, right?" 

You heard him inhale raggedly. "I--wait, please, just-"

You didn't stay to let him finish, continuing down the ladder.

…

This was technically your own fault, you reminded yourself for the hundredth time. Technically. You could have let him leave the cockpit, but no, you had to grab his hand! Really, you had no one to blame but yourself.

That didn't stop you from feeling like a gross, terrible person, of course, but at least you knew why. You felt stupid for thinking that you could convince him of anything other than what he had already decided upon. 

Cara seemed to sense that something was wrong the following morning and she went out of her way to goad the Mandalorian into an arm wrestling match once the Crest departed Arvala-7. It was a bit cramped in the hold, what with the blurrgs and all, so you were a spectator whether you wanted to be or not.

The two of them posted up on top of a crate, their elbows firmly planted after they set their wagers. They slapped hands once and the child's ears perked up curiously. 

The former trooper and the bounty hunter locked into their holds as you looked on, a bit invested now. Carasynthia somehow managed to keep the armored man at bay, unless the Mandalorian was going easy on her. Of course, she had been a dropper. Lugging pounds and pounds of gear and artillery must have built strong arms. 

"I got you, Mando." She grinned.

"Care to double the bet?" The beskar-wearing man shot back, and you hated that you could tell he was smiling.

The baby looked back and forth between the two grunting adults, and their tiny hand reached out towards Cara. "Looks like the kid is calling dibs on the next round." You commented, chuckling a little. But when you looked up, you saw Cara releasing the Mandalorian's hand to frantically claw at her own throat.

The Mandalorian was only still for a split-second before he bolted upright, lunging to haul the child out of their bassinet. "Stop it!" He berated them sharply. "We're friends, we're friends! Cara is my friend!" 

"Hey!" You moved to take the child but the Mandalorian quickly shifted, maneuvering himself between the two of you. "What are you doing? Stop yelling at them!" You protested, yanking on his arm.

"How very curious." Kuiil murmured, rising to his feet and moving to examine the child. The kid was just laying there, limp in the Mandalorian's grasp. Like they knew they had done something wrong. 

"I mean, that's one word for it." Cara coughed. "What the hell was that?"

"What it is, I'm not certain. But that story you told me of the mudhorn is making a lot more sense." The Ugnaught mused to the Mandalorian. 

"Psh, you would need the kid to help you cheat." Dune tried to joke, her voice rasping a little. "You that scared of losing, Mando?"

"What story? What mudhorn? What even just happened?" You demanded. 

"The kid did this...thing once before. I can't really explain it." The Mandalorian answered you curtly. "He just moved his hand and a fucking full-grown mudhorn was three feet off the ground." 

"...excuse me, what?" You questioned weakly.

"He also went into a coma sleep afterwards, guess he wore himself out." The Mandalorian shrugged, the kid peering over the side of his arm guiltily. "Maybe...maybe he thought Dune was a threat or something. Thought we were fighting for real." 

"You little nugget, you really thought I was screwing with your dad?" Cara asked incredulously, reaching out and rubbing over one of the child's ears. "I tangled with your pops once, remember? He almost died." 

"Not how I recall it." The Mandalorian growled, his pride clearly pinched. "We were at a stalemate if anything."

The child whimpered, holding their arms out to you. Despite now being privy to the incredibly frightening knowledge that oh, they can move things with their mind, they can choke a full-grown human out, you could still feel yourself softening. The eyes got you every time.

The Mandalorian, who had been watching you warily, muttered, "you don't have to if you don't--"

"Stop." You interrupted him sharply. "They're not a bomb." He fell silent, passing you the kid without further debate. They settled into your arms, staring up at you while you rocked back and forth. You began to hum their lullaby softly, hoping to get them to sleep at some point during this flight. 

"I need your help." You glanced up, disappointment searing in your chest when you realized the Mandalorian was addressing Kuiil. You then proceeded to berate yourself for the hope you had in the first place. 

He had made his choice and, in doing so, he had made your choice as well. There was nothing you could do to change his mind. Obviously. The best you could do was return to your mundane existence on Nevarro. Maybe once you were there you could hitch a ride on another freighter, leave the whole planet in the dust and get on with your life.

…

You tucked the baby in for what you knew was the last time, stroking your fingers over their little head. 

The Razor Crest sat silent amongst the lava rivers, all illumination and non-essential mechanics off so as not to arouse suspicion or garner unwanted attention. To the best of your knowledge, everyone aside from you was already asleep. The blurrgs had been offloaded and secured outside; you could still hear them shuffling about as they chewed their cud. 

The Mandalorian's rendezvous with his contact wasn't until tomorrow, but you didn't exactly feel like trying to explain your departure to everyone in the crisp gray light of a Nevarro morning.

It was better this way. It always was.

You picked up the small pack you had stowed in the bunk, as well as your toolbelt. After one final look at the child, you slowly felt your way towards the door. The lights in the hold were disabled, so all you had to navigate by was the faint orange glow from the distant lava.

You froze when you saw him standing next to the loading ramp, his shoulders rigid and arms crossed over his chest. The void of his visor bored into you, and you found yourself wondering what he was thinking.

After a moment of the two of you standing there in silence, he sighed and tapped a few of the keys on his gauntlet. The loading ramp began to slowly open, segmented plates extending with a hiss of hydraulics. You shifted your weight nervously and opened your mouth but he held up a hand, stopping you before you could even start.

He simply gestured at the ramp, all that beskar for once not making a sound. 

You crept forward, wary of him for the first time in a long time. Before you managed to get past him though, he tilted his head. Two fingers pressed against his breastplate, drawing a circle. Then, he tapped his knuckles in the center. 

Stay safe.

You wanted to scream.

"Yeah." You managed to choke out instead. Your hand moved of its own accord, running down your leg to your boot where you tugged the vibroblade free and held it out. "Won't need this anymore."

That stupid visor felt like it was staring into your soul. He took the knife back after a moment. He was blatantly, obviously careful not to actually touch your skin, using his index and thumb to gingerly pinch down on the handle. 

You gave him an awkward nod and continued out onto the ramp, your boots hitting the obsidian ground with a thud. 

You didn't turn around, no matter how much you wanted to.

Part Eight

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #eventual romance #slow burn #oh they fockin #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #please don't hate me #this hurts me a lot

[sir-elyan]

suptober20 day 21 prompt: fear (ficlet) | destiel au | ~1k words

read on ao3 | read all past suptober prompts

Dean had only ever used his wings once in his life.

He had been young, about the age when most angels started flying. His mother was there, guiding him—or, trying to—with her beautiful big white wings spread to show him how she did it. The mechanics of it all, that was something Dean could understand. It was getting up in the air that was the hard part.

Why?

Because Dean was afraid of falling.

It was the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever heard of. They lived in heaven, for the love of God (literally), and flying was just part of the deal. Flying got you into every occupation, every field, and to anywhere in the world.

But Dean just…couldn’t. Couldn’t get over his fear, couldn’t get over even the shortest ambrosia tree. He was useless.

Dean regained this memory the first time he heard their voices.

Initially it had been like an itch Dean couldn’t scratch. And boy, was that annoying as all hell.

The voices were faint, but they were there, and Dean understood every word even though it definitely wasn’t english, and they didn’t sound like normal voices. More like…sounds. Rhythms.  

This didn’t happen all the time. It started off being every once in a while, and it was inconvenient, sure, but manageable. But then it had gotten worse.

Considerably worse.

Dean shifted in his seat. He could hear them now, chattering away about something or the other. He could pick out a few words, like “fallen” and “save” and—

He shot up out of his chair, surprising the doctor so much that she jerked her coffee cup, brown liquid steaming over her hand and desk.

“Sorry!” He mumbled, escaping out of the room, “Important!”

“Dean, we have to talk about this!” she called after him, but he was already down the hall, sliding to a halt when he came upon his room.

Dean stepped inside and shut the door. He leaned his back against it for a moment and closed his eyes, heart hammering.

The voice that he’d heard. It’d said—

“Dean Winchester.”

Dean flinched, more forcefully than the Doctor had just a minute ago, and had a fleeting thought that if there was coffee in his hands in that moment, it would now be spilled everywhere.

He was staring at the man in his room, whose eyes were pinned to Dean like a target. If he had the space to, Dean would have taken a step back.

“That’s me,” he said instead.

The guy walked towards him until there was little space between them.

“Uh….who are you?”

Blue eyes, Dean noted. They were kind of all he could stare at.

“Castiel.”

Blunt, for one. Dean let out a breath.

“Okay, what are you, then?”

He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that.

Castiel tilted his head, “I am an angel of the Lord… So are you.”

Dean gathered up his nerve to push past Castiel and further into the room, turning to face him again. Dean’s stare was icy.

“Maybe I was. Not anymore.”

Castiel stepped forward. “Dean, Heaven is…” he looked away, gathering his thoughts.

“Heaven needs you to come home.”

Dean coughed out a laugh.

“Oh, do they? So, what? So that I can stand around all day, watching everyone else fight and protect? No, I–I’m good here. I have a life here. I—”

He rubbed a hand over his face. He had a life here. Up until a year ago, when he was thrown into this dump for being a “liability” at his job. Dean knew it wasn’t the same, knew Castiel knew it too.

He let his hand fall.

“I can’t even fly.” Was all he managed.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was firm. “That has never stopped you before. What happened to you? You once commanded armies, you were Michael’s right hand. I heard stories of you. And then—”

Dean frowned. The angel seemed frustrated. Angry, almost. Dean was sure they’d never met before.

“And then you fell. You fell, and we became…ruined. When I say that we need you, I don’t mean to flatter you. I’m merely stating a fact. We need you to come back. The war hasn’t ended just because of what happened to you.”

Dean curled his hand into a fist.

“What happened to me was I couldn’t protect the ones I love most. I couldn’t even get to Sam, because why? Because I was scared. I was a coward. And sure, he survived, but me staying there was just another burden. For everyone.”

He’d remembered it a few months ago—the demons, the knights of hell attacking his brother somewhere Dean just couldn’t reach. The fear that had pulsed through him with every heartbeat.

Castiel was shaking his head.

“They are under the impression that you abandoned us, Dean. I’ve…I’ve gone against my orders to get you back.”

Against orders? Dean reevaluated him. Castiel was wearing a suit and coat, but he obviously had the air of a soldier about him. He wasn’t just any angel, if he was risking everything to be here.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“Because I….sympathize with you.”

“You sympathize.” Dean raised an eyebrow. Castiel had never met him before now. How in the world could he “sympathize?” Angels…angels didn’t sympathize. They followed orders and gave commands. There wasn’t time for sympathy or understanding. Not in Heaven.

Castiel sighed, and spoke softly. “I can understand the appeal of…dissenting. Of coming to earth. Sometimes…sometimes staying is more difficult than leaving. Angels like you, Dean—Angels that push past fear and setbacks and keep soldiering on, they are the reason I stay. So you must come back. If not for them, then for me.”

Dean stared again. Not at the vessel, but at the angel within it. An angel going against orders, going against what he believed in, for him. For Dean. For a reason to stay in a place where staying was the hardest thing you could do.

“I don’t have my grace anymore,” Dean said.

“Your grace can be restored.”

“I can’t fly,” he said again. A feeble attempt, but an attempt nonetheless. Dean’s last chance to stay here, even if his life here meant nothing anymore.

Castiel straightened more, if that was even possible, and leveled Dean with a resolute gaze.

“Then I will teach you,” Castiel said, “If you just give this one last chance.”

Dean swallowed hard. He could do that. For Sam, for himself...for the angel standing in front of him.

“Okay,” his voice wavered. “I will learn to fly.”

-

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-winchester @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean

#OKAY HI I REACHED 100 TODAY #I'M PUMPED I LOVE YOU GUYS SM #ALSO STARTED A TAG LIST JUST COMMENT TO BE ADDED #suptober20 #supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #casdean #dean winchester #castiel #rambleoncas writing #my writing #roc original #b*destiel #my post #bookshelf

[stjernfaerie]

I finally watched all of MCU

in release order because IT MAKES SENSE!!!!

special thanks to @littlegingrnut who watched ALL OF THEM with me. She’s the best. 

Idk if anyone cares at all, but I feel like sharing, so here’s some thoughts and reactions, enjoy: 

Phase 1: 

Iron man

okay but like how was Tony such a jerk in the beginning only to become like the most lovable character ever??

YINSEN DID NOT NEED TO DIE :((

did not like the antagonist what was that

I mean he’s not bad I just didn’t like him that much

I wanna get myself a jarvis tho 

all in all, really enjoyed it

got me really excited to watch more

The Incredible Hulk

didn't watch cuz aly said not necessary

we just skimmed over the important parts 

oh and watched the end credits scene

Iron man 2

this was really great

okay but like I love Ivan Vanko hes such a great antagonist

I LOVE TONY

HE’S SO GREAT

THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND EVERYTHING GOSH AAH

oh damn ~Natasha Romanoff~

ma’am-

Pepper as a powerful business lady? YES  

just... really great shit right here

Thor

Mmmmmm I don't see the hype about Loki??

his two faced-ness is annoying me

also Thor? I didn't love him at first,, he's a bit cliché

STELLAN SKARSGÅRD YES SWEDISH REP

okay but Thor is a good boi actually,,, I take it back he’s pretty great

Oh nooo Loki - yeah lol as if he actually died 

YO WHAT WAS UP WITH THAT END CREDITS SCENE that got me all like WTF and shit

also told ya Loki didn’t die

Captain America: The First Avenger

okay full disclosure, I actually watched this one time before bc I started watching them in chronological order but never got any further than this

it made so much more sense this time

I liked it so much better this time 

because THE RELEASE ORDER MAKES SO MUCH SENSE 

anyway

this was good !!

I'm gay for Peggy omg

and Steve is such a good boi

DID BUCKY REALLY HAVE TO DIE

all in all not my favourite tho, not too memorable tbh

"I had a date" 😭

The Avengers

ohhh man

ALL OF THEM TOGETHER? UGH YES

Oh hello Dr. Banner nice to see u

Loki bro pls chill

OKAY HULK HELLO

NATASHANATASHANATASHA AAAHH I'M GAY

still don't get the Loki hype tbh. maybe a lil bit but idk

THOR OKAY I LOVE THOR NOW

TONY WHAT THE FUCK NO NO NO TONY DON'T

oh okay he's good

I love them all so much oh gosh

I MADE IT THROUGH PHASE ONE WOHOOOO

***

Phase 2

Iron man 3

this movie changed me

aly can confirm - I was very much not okay after seeing this

literally had anxiety through all of it

I mean I LOVED it

but like

the ptsd :(((

although I do love that they showed that, just made me love Tony even more

just... showing the ugly parts - love that shit

but also like noooo tony bby :(((( 

HARLEY!!!! IS SO GREAT !!! AND ALY SAID HE COMES BACK AT ONE POINT!! YAY

just.... Tony Stark man.

great antagonist, love the whole mandarin thing

EXTREMIS? NO THANK U that honestly gives me like zombie ish vibes or smth I don’t like it

but like it was great 

OH PEPPER JUST BECAME 10x HOTTER DAMN SHE JUST GETS MORE AND MORE ATTRACTIVE EACH MOVIE HUH

PEPPER ALMOST DYING? NOPE

THE PAIN IN TONY'S FACE? NOPE

all in all loved this so much and I am still not really okay

Thor: The Dark World

I see why people think this is the worst Thor movie.

DON’T GET ME WRONG IT WAS GREAT

but like,,, meh? the big end fight was so anti-climactic? not epic at all like what the fuck

I LOVE DARCY

but she's clearly gay so stop makin her fool around with the intern

but like Thor is such a soft boi and I love him

again, Loki's two-faced-ness – aRH

but,,,, I get the Loki hype now

I'm aboard the train

I love Loki 

oh oh oh the part in his prison cell when Thor comes to talk to him and is all like "enough tricks" and then his cell is all torn up and he's all torn up and AH BABY 😭

Thor just needs cuddles 

Aaaaand this is where I accidentally got the worst possible spoiler. :)))

I wanted to watch some wholesome Tony Stark content before bed and so I searched youtube for "Iron Man" and clicked on a video I thought looked nice and wholesome. I accidentally read the top comment and then proceeded to break down and freak out to Aly and Hanna on Aly’s live, and they comforted me and stuff <3 

Aly then told me that “hey remember that I told you that the little boy in Iron Man 3 comes back at one point? Yeah that’s at the funeral” 

STUPIDLY, I then watched the death scene on YouTube, went to bed crying, and of course, dreaming about it. I will never be okay again and I will never be ready for Endgame thank you and goodbye.

anywAY,,,,,

Captain America: Winter Soldier

*SO MUCH SCREAMING*

I thought that Bucky didn’t deserve to die - and he didn’t - but like,,, DYING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS 

the ~bromance~

nat and steve I mean, so good

I AM NOT OKAY I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS MOVIE BUT IT WAS AMAZING

Natasha tho mmmmmhhf

I was rly confused while watching but like everything came together at the end and it was so nice and damn this is one of my favorites so far

Sam is great I want more of Sam

Guardians of the Galaxy

multiple people had told me that they thought I’d really like this movie

honestly? I didn’t

it was kinda meh?

like I found it very predictable and cliché and not in a delightful way

idk if it’s just that I know that Chris Pratt is a dick but I don’t like Peter

I rly like Gamora and Nebula, but like I’m a lesbian, so I don’t think anyone’s surprised that I like the traumatized warrior gals

but like in general I’m kinda disappointed

I only gasped like twice, and it was barely gasp-worthy moments

Avengers: Age of Ultron

All of them together just makes me so happy, they’re so cute with each other AH

loved Ultron as the antagonist. that was great.

but,,,, I was a bit disappointed that we didn’t really get to see any regret from Tony bc he created Ultron

THE TWINS ARE FANTASTIC

whatever’s going on with Bruce and Nat, I don’t like it

TOO MANY moments that reminded me of the spoiler that I refuse to speak. Did not enjoy

everyone just needs to be hugged why doesn’t anybody HUG THEM????

not happy about Jarvis dying :((( even tho he technically didn’t die but like HE’S NOT JARVIS ANYMORE IS HE

and then Tony just replaces him with this Friday just like that??? no i’m not okay with that

in a ranking scenario this one falls in like the top of the middle range? Like it’s not one of the favorites, but it’s still up there. 

I FUCKING DID IT AGAIN ARGH

I was just reading about new MCU projects that are coming up and THERE WAS A SPOILER WARNING, but STUPID AS I AM I DISREGARDED that and kept on reading. I was just skimming through the text and I read “Loki who dies” and stopped right there, because AAHH FUCKING SHIT

I was on a call with Aly as this happened and so I told her that I had given myself a spoiler again and that it was about Loki, and she was all like I can’t remember anything that happens to Loki hmm, and so I thought YAY it’s okay, they just meant one of the times when he fake died!!! so I went on to keep reading, but before I could read anything else Aly stopped me, remembering. She told me it would be gut-wrenching and terrible and I’m just- 

So disappointed in myself. 

Ant-Man

it was an enjoyable movie, but like,,, a little meh? 

I feel kinda the same as I did with GOTG

but I like each of them better than the other for different reasons? idk???

the plot wasn’t very thick, like I could have gone away to pee without pausing and probably not miss too much

I didn’t really get invested in the story or the characters

but it was enjoyable for sure

Sam!!! Hello!!!! 

Again, like with GOTG, I found it kinda cliché, but in a more delightful way this time

WE MADE IT THROUGH PHASE 2 AND PASSED THE HALF-WAY POINT WOHOOOOO

***

Phase 3

Captain America: Civil War

I constantly needed to be hugged while watching this

in the end I was fine, like I’ve been way less okay after some of the other movies, but during? needed hugs and cuddles

I love that they were fighting each other it was just... umff you know

but also like,,, LOVE EACH OTHER 

Wanda and Vision? no thanks I HATE IT

Steve and Sharon?? NO THANKS I HATE IT

literally that’s just weird on SO many levels

and that kiss was-- ugh I hated it. 

SPIDER BOY !!!!! UGH I LOVE HIM ALREADY

Black Panther heLLOOO

ALL THE STUCKY THOOO

Tony and Steve fighting in the end got me :( 

Doctor Strange

This one falls at the bottom of my list

It was the shortest movie but it felt SO LONG because I was so bored through all of it

it just never got me hooked, I didn’t get invested in the story at all. 

there weren’t even any characters that I liked enough to want to see more

sure another infinity stone and getting to know doctor strange and shit, I get why you kinda need to watch it

but I doubt I’ll watch it again

Guardians of the Galaxy 2

just like with the first one, kinda meh

I didn’t really get into it until the last half hour or so

the music really carried this movie tho

and baby groot !!!

I love Nebula so much, such a great character

Yondu dying was really great, it did a lot for his character

I still don’t really like Peter Quill

I feel like it was barely contributing to the infinity saga, the only thing that’s somewhat connected is that Nebula wants to kill Thanos, and the only reason I know that’s connected is because of spoilers

because I’m not really supposed to know the significance of Thanos at this point

but then again, maybe I’ll feel differently when I’ve finished all the movies

Spiderman: Homecoming

SPIDEY BOY !!!!!!!!! 

THIS IS A FAVORITE

I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS MOVIE

THE TONY/PETER INTERACTIONS WERE SO GREAT

PETER IS A BABY AND HE’S SO GREAT AND AAAAAHH

HE’S ON MY LIST BTW

AND LIKE,,, CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS FIGHTING SOUNDS COMPARED TO EVERYONE ELSE’S???? Like steve and thor and shit are all like huOH heeeUH oAH ya know?? and then peter’s over here like eeh heh mmmMHF 

HE’S JUST REALLY GREAT AND AAH I LOVED THIS MOVIE SO MUCH

LITERALLY SMILED THROUGH ALMOST ALL OF IT

except when things were going bad and during the fight scenes and shit and when he was in big danger and stuffs

BUT LIKE AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

SO GOOD

OH OH OH AND STEVE’S LITTLE EDUCATIONAL VIDEOS WERE SO CUTE AH

hehehheheh and the end credits tho heheheheh

ANYWAY I LOVED THIS MOVIE SO SO SO SOO MUCH

Thor: Ragnarok

ANOTHER FAVORITE AAAAH

ALL THE BROTHERLY MOMENTS THO

Kinda mad that we didn’t get a hug there in the end but oh well

Thor is so sassy and goofy in this one I love it

ugghhhhh I love Loki so much

Hela has so much Maleficent vibes

Heimdall yESSS !!!

all the Thor/Hulk interactions were so PRECIOUS AAH

this was just such a great movie with great character development for both Thor and Loki and ughhhh IT WAS SO GOOD

“get help” was fucking ICONIC

VALKYRIE THO

oof not excited for infinity war :(( 

Black Panther

this one falls somewhere in the middle for me

like it was good, but it’s not up there

my main issue with it is that it didn’t really feel so much like a superhero movie, it was more just like... family drama

but Shuri tho, love her

and all the awesome ladies fighting!!! yes!!!!

BUCKY!!! 

Avengers: Infinity War

I am not okay

I will never be okay again

I thought Loki dying was gonna be the worst part - and honestly, knowing about it beforehand made it less painful actually

but NO NO NO 

THE LAST 15 MINUTES IS JUST A CRYFEST HUH 

REAL NICE THANK YOU

oh gosh I can’t even think 

I told y’all I didn’t like Peter Quill and well, HE DESERVED WHAT HE GOT 

oh gosh nope 

I’ve been feeling guilty that all of y’all had to wait a full year for endgame but AT LEAST THEN YOU HAD TIME TO BE OKAY AGAIN BEFORE ENDGAME

fucking shit what have I gotten myself into

Ant-Man and the Wasp

I liked this one better than the first ant-man

It’s still not up there but it was good

idk it could just be bc I know the characters more this time or because I kind of had pretty low expectations but I liked this more

oh also maybe I was just happy that I didn’t have to see like all my favorite characters die like I did yesterday :((( 

still not okay

anyway, ant-man and the wasp

I really liked Ava, really great character honestly

I liked Hope a whole lot more this time around

still don’t really like her and Scott together, especially after her mother like talked through him and shit. I feel like if I was Hope and my mother talked to me through my love interest, I would feel pretty weird about it all

but maybe that’s just me idk

oh but what I do like about scott and hope is all of hank’s comments about them

he’s funny hehehe

also Luis! great dude

okay but Bill FOSTER???? as in JANE FOSTER?? SEEMINGLY HAVING NO CONNECTION AT ALL??? 

there’s too many double names in this whole ass franchise and I’m upset

two Peters, two Eriks, two Fosters.... like I know that’s what real life is like, people have the same names, but THIS IS FICTION

YOU CAN AVOID THE CONFUSION

that wasn’t totally related to this movie specifically but this was the third strike dudes, I couldn’t just ignore it anymore.

oh oh oh and I did not appreciate the mid credits scene, I DON’T NEED REMINDERS OF THAT PAIN THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Captain Marvel

this one falls somewhere in the middle for me

like it was good, and I enjoyed it a lot, but it just wasn’t really anything that left me all like woooaaaah omg AH you know???

I really liked how it connected back to previous movies like with Ronan and the Kree people from GOTG and the tesseract and all that jazz

where can I get myself a flerken tho I want one

I appreciate that no one turned into dust, that was nice

my main problem with this movie is that HER POWERS MAKE NO SENSE 

like in the beginning it was kinda okay. I didn’t understand her powers, but at least they felt reasonable

then we got to the end and all of a sudden she’s flying and glowing and strong enough to stop and redirect a fuckin missile, and then she’s FLYING INTO BOMBS AND COMING OUT THE OTHER END COMPLETELY UNSCATHED?? 

OH AND THEN SHE FLIES INTO FUCKIN SPACE WITHOUT A HELMET OR ANYTHING AND SHE CAN BREATHE JUST FINE???

it just makes no sense, it’s completely unreasonable and it makes her too perfect to me. Too unbeatable. I don’t like it. 

but all in all a good movie, loved seeing young Fury and shit

Avengers: Endgame I WILL NEVER BE READY

As I thought, I wasn’t ready

But, I actually think that knowing about Tony beforehand made it a bit easier

I still wish I hadn’t known

and I still bawled like a baby 

but like,,, I think I would have been way worse off if I hadn’t known

I’m just so sad now

I really need a hug

and even though I just cried more than I’ve done all year I need to cry some more I think

I’m glad everyone who got dusted came back, although I kinda knew they would 

well, I would have been fine with Quill staying dusted tbh. I really don’t like that guy

NATASHA WAS NOT ALLOWED TO DIE, I WILL NOT BE OKAY WITH THIS :(

oh gosh yeah I know I have more thoughts about this movie that I wanna say but I need to be more okay first oh man

okay hi again, it’s the next day and I’m still sad but here are some more thoughts: 

I hated the whole Bruce/Hulk think. All the good parts about each side of his character were just erased.

I don’t even see the purpose of it. 

Okay I kinda knew that Steve was gonna go back to the 40s, but I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT SO SHH

anyway, I didn’t like Steve staying in the 40s, and here’s why: 

he knew that this was the single one out of 14 million times they won against Thanos, so he knew that changing anything at all would fuck it up

but at the same time, I find it hard to believe that Steve could be aware that Tony and Nat dies and not want to do anything about it

even though he knows he can’t

so wouldn’t it have been easier to just go back to the present after he returned all the stones? So he wouldn’t have to live with that dilemma?

ALSO, I WILL NOT ACCEPT that after everything he did to get Bucky back, he just leaves him. Just like that. 

Literally the only reason this makes sense is as a setup for the Falcon and The Winter Soldier Disney+ series. 

But I still don’t like it

Spiderman: Far From Home

This was nice, I needed this. 

I didn’t like it as much as homecoming, but I didn’t expect to considering how much I loved hoco

it was really nice to see some more Peter Parker bc i love him but also like,,, most of it was traumatized spidey boy :((( and that was sad :(

He’s literally just a child and he’s already so damaged and it’s big big sad

the high school vibes were immaculate

not that I’ve actually been to high school in the US but like,,, it felt like a high school movie okok

Okay but like May’s character really did a full 180? I don’t really understand where that all came from, but uhhhh okay then

Okay, Quentin Beck. 

before we realized he was bad, I already didn’t like him, cuz it seemed like he was gonna start to become a new father figure for Peter and I WAS NOT COOL WITH THAT

but then I understood that that wasn’t happening so it’s all good

he’s a pretty cool antagonist. not a fave, but pretty cool. 

OH OH FLASH IS SO GAY FOR SPIDERMAN THO RIGHT

he actually got some real nice character development that I had not expected, that was nice

all in all, great movie, I love my spidey boy. 

pretty sad that I’m done tho... :( 

but also like, I watched all of them (except incredible hulk) in 34 days. That’s kinda impressive, right?

ALSO THERE’S NO MORE SPOILER DANGER YAY !!!

and finally, here is my ranking of the movies based on how much I liked them: 

0. The Incredible Hulk ( didn’t watch )

SPIDERMAN: HOMECOMING 

Thor: Ragnarok

Captain America: Winter Soldier

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Iron Man 3

Avengers

Captain America: Civil War

Spiderman: Far From Home

Iron Man 

Avengers: Infinity War

Thor

Avengers: Endgame

Iron Man 2

Thor: The Dark World

Captain Marvel

Black Panther

Captain America: The First Avenger

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Guardians of the Galaxy 2

Ant-Man

Guardians of the Galaxy

Doctor Strange

#i did it guys #aw man #i'm a little bit lost now tbh #like what do i do now #ooc #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #infinity saga

[bigskydreaming]

Height discourse confuses me so much, because I, a 4'9 21-year-old Asian perceives anyone taller as tall. But reading international posts saying 5'6 is small makes me double-take, like, "Wut?"

LOL, ahh yes, the infamous “How Tall IS Dick Grayson Actually” discourse. I feel you. And I can definitely see how it would be bemusing as hell given your perspective, lmao.

And I mean, its definitely up there on the list of “Things I Can’t Believe There’s Actually Discourse About” buuuuuut I’m not really judging because I know damn well there’s a fuckton of shit I’ve Discoursed about on pretty much everyone else’s “Things I Can’t Believe There’s Actually Discourse About” list. 

*Shrugs* But I also do get why it exists, if you scratch beneath the surface - as is often true of a lot of seemingly inane discourses. Its not really about height so much as it is about the why’s of writers specifying certain heights for him, and stereotypes associated with height.

On the one hand, you’ve got the fans who look at writers who make a point of writing Dick as particularly short, or the shortest of the Batfam once all of them are adults, and think: this is because of fandom’s fixation with writing Dick as effeminate or the least ‘manly’ of the Batfam, and thus I dislike it and do not trust this writer’s take on him.

Then on the other hand, you have the fans who look at objections like this and think: this is because of bullshit fostered by the toxic masculinity and sexism that’s so present in society, even women can be guilty of perpetuating the idea that there’s anything TO object about there, that a man being effeminate or less ‘manly’ than his brothers is some kind of insult or slight against him in the first place.

But then go back to the first hand.....

And on the one hand, of those fans, you’ve got the fans that don’t actually think there’s anything insulting about a man being effeminate or less manly themselves, but given that the bullshit fostered by the toxic masculinity and sexism in society is so everpresent, even women can be guilty of perpetuating the idea that ‘shorter = weaker’ etc, etc.......its not him being written as short that’s objectionable to them, its what they believe the writer is implying by making that distinction that they’re objecting to, like that it reads to them as though its being used as a smokescreen to create associations in readers’ minds, with the idea of him being weaker or softer or whatever the fuck compared to his brothers, without those writers actually having to SAY what they’re getting at there and spell it out. Plausible deniability kinda thing.

And then on the other hand, you have those fans who object to writing Dick as short because they actually DO buy into that bullshit and they ARE simply objecting to the idea itself because of toxic masculinity and sexism and etc etc.

But then go back to the original second hand.....

And on the one hand THERE, you have the fans whose responses to people objecting about writing Dick as short are based on exactly what they say they are......pointing out that its only objectionable if its viewed as insulting and the only reasons its viewed as insulting are toxic masculinity and sexism which they’re calling out as being perpetuated here.

And on the other hand there, you have those fans who DO buy into the associations between ‘shorter = weaker’ and actually ARE writing things that way with the intent of hoping to form that association in the minds of any readers who similarly buy into those lines of thought or are susceptible to it......and are simply using ‘arent you the REAL misogynist here for thinking shorter equals more feminine which equals weaker or frail or whatever’ arguments that are simply typical flipping the script tactics and hiding behind buzzwords they don’t actually believe in themselves but know are effective in getting people to back down, etc, etc. The plausible deniability thing.

And I’ve been out of hands here for awhile now, obviously, but you get what I mean. Round and round and round it goes, with the true point always hidden juuuuuuust beneath the surface, and more than a little tedious to have all unpacked and catalogued like here, which is a major factor in why so many people rarely dig beneath the surface of a seemingly inane discourse to get at what people are REALLY arguing about but nobody wants to ‘lose ground on’ by being the first to admit to.

As for me, again, this really isn’t a dicourse that I spend much time on because I’d rather cut straight to the point of an argument in general, and this isn’t an discourse that’s particularly amenable to people doing that, obviously. 

And also, I honestly just don’t care that much. LOL. Yeah, I often read works where Dick is singled out as being distinctively shorter and feel an author is trying to ‘imply’ something and its the implications of that which are the source of any ‘Not Good, Scoob’ feelings rather than because I agree with what’s trying to be implied. But y’know......when an author IS playing that game and they actually do buy into toxic and sexist stereotypes.....I mean, there’s literally always other indications of this in their work, giving them away all over the place. So there’s honestly never really a time when his height itself is actually what that hinges upon, y’know?

So my big takeaway from all of this is: headcanon and write Dick as whatever damn height you feel like and if you want to imply something about him just fucking say it directly and if you want to accuse someone of something just fucking call it out directly.

*points to the above unpacking of this particular discourse and how fucking tedious and unnecessary so much of it is and all just because people won’t just say what they actually came to say or lay claim to what they actually said*

ANYWAY.

Personally, regardless of how Dick is written in a fic, I will always headcanon him as somewhere between 5′10″ and 6′1″ for reasons that are entirely irrelevant and meaningless to anyone but me, pretty much. LOL.

In my head, Dick obviously has to be that height because he’s walked a runway as a model before. That’s it. That’s the whole reason my mind automatically goes to that span when picturing him or reading something about him.

(As most people who have followed me for a bit know, I spent a number of years working in the TV industry. There were a couple years there where I did a little bit of print modeling too, nothing major at all, but enough to know that the fashion industry has a Very Definitive Thing about male runway models and height: If you are a male runway model, you are between 5′10″ and 6′1″. If you are not between 5′10″ and 6′1″, you are not a male runway model and you never will be. Its a Thing. And not one the industry is shy about. 

Because of the fact that the fashion industry is mostly centered around women models with name recognition, and very few men who model have star power specifically in terms of modeling, rather than because of crossover/overlap with acting, there’s a major difference in how designers tend to approach designing for models. Most designers designing runway looks for women do so with specific models already in mind. Most designers designing runway looks for men do so without specific models in mind because there simply aren’t enough male models with the kind of branding/name recognition that does a designer any good. 

So designers literally JUST design runway looks for men in that height range, and anyone outside that range would require tailoring that could feasibly throw off an entire runway look. So they just don’t do it, to the point that an agent or manager sending them someone outside that height range to consider for a job means that agent’s not getting called back, because they just gave themselves away as a clear amateur by not knowing better.

Of course, keep in mind that my experiences with modeling are based on the industry re: ten years ago, so it could be that things have changed in this regard since. But that was the status quo then.)

So yeah. Dick Grayson walked a runway for Cheyenne Freemont, thus in my mind he’s obviously between 5′10″ and 6′1″ lolol, because any up and coming designer trying to make a name for herself would absolutely know better than to send out someone shorter than that and still think anyone in the industry would take her seriously.

LOL. I told you it was inane. But in my defense, plenty of people headcanon that Dick HAS to be small because he’s a gymnast, and uh.....that is not how that works. Anyone can be an amazing gymnast, its just that smaller body types lend themselves to gymnastics better than bigger, bulkier bodies. And thus the competition oriented gymnastics SPORT heavily favors cultivating and training gymnasts on the smaller side, because coaches and endorsers are looking for literally any advantage possible.

(Being shorter means you have a lower center of gravity which is a help when balancing, or stabilizing yourself. Its easier for a shorter gymnast to keep their balance or to stick a landing. But it doesn’t become impossible just because someone’s hit six feet tall. It HELPS to be shorter. It doesn’t determine whether or not you can do a trick at all, much like being short and having a lower center of gravity by no means GUARANTEES you have good balance.)

And of course, though Dick excels at a ton of gymnastics, he is not and never has been a gymnast per se....he’s an acrobat. From a family of acrobats. Who have been doing this as a family business generationally, thus.....why would they have future height requirements when training their son in the family business? And being from a family of acrobats doesn’t ensure you’re going to be short, if your family members are not already short to begin with. Evolution does not give a fuck about future employment opportunities when selecting which gene sequences to flip on while in utero.

The correlation is ‘most gymnasts who excel at gymnastics feats are small,’ not ‘to excel at gymastic feats, you must be small.’

I am absolutely and completely just rambling now and have been for awhile so I’m gonna go beat up my insomnia until it caves and lets me go the fuck to sleep.

[septic-skele]

UT - Growing Pains

Summary: Even if they don't fully understand it, the monsters try to offer Frisk comfort and support when she gets her first period.

With a thundering heart, a lump in her throat and tears pricking her wide eyes, Frisk stared down at the wet, warm fabric twisted around her ankles.

Something was wrong with her. Her HP hadn’t changed and yet she was bleeding.

She had woken up, achy, hot and needing the bathroom just a few minutes ago. She should have known the dull, deep stomachache wasn’t normal, but seeing the dark, sticky seat of her pajamas only compounded the growing panic. Blood, she’d seen before. Blood that appeared for no reason? How could that happen?

A choked noise escaped as her first thought was of resets—something she’d done, a fight, an injury from another timeline, quite literally bleeding into this one, but how could that happen without any HP evidence? She had checked and doubled-checked it, finding no damage, which meant healing items wouldn’t do anything to help.

Was she sick? The tremors running through her and the feverish heat clinging to her might confirm it. Alphys might figure it out, but if it scared her as much as it was scaring Frisk, what if she couldn’t focus on finding a way to fix it?

Don’t cry. You…You’ve had worse than this. A lot worse. Just…stay determined.

Sucking in a ragged breath and biting her lip to hold it, Frisk kicked off the stained pants and, after a moment’s thought, hesitantly shuffled for one of the bathroom towels to wrap herself. Legs weak underneath her, stomach throbbing and jittery with nerves, she shuffle-limped tearfully out of the bathroom and down the hall.

Mom will know. She knows a lot, she has to know. She can make it okay.

________________________________________

As it turned out, though she had no firsthand experience with it, Toriel did know. She now had Frisk bundled up against her on the couch, head resting on her knee as she ran a paw over her hair and warm forehead. With a low, quivery sigh the child relaxed, soothed by the ministrations.

It had taken some doing to get there; the early morning had been fraught with panic. Papyrus’ scream when he found bloody trousers in the bathroom had woken everyone in the house and forced Toriel to fight for some semblance of control. She had given the shortest explanation possible for the sake of time and then sent Papyrus to the store with a list of some basic supplies. Speaking of which, Toriel could hear his scrambling strides long before he kicked open the door.

“The great Papyrus returns! I bring all of the necessary provisions for your ultimate care and comfort, human!” he hollered breathlessly, grocery bags brimming in his arms. “You will be pleased to hear that after clearing the so-called ‘Feminine Care’ aisle, I took the liberty of sweeping the ‘Health and Wellness’ aisle for disinfectant, bandages and gauze!”

“As much as we appreciate your thoughtfulness, Papyrus, my child isn’t injured,” Toriel reminded him patiently.

“How can that be?” he scoffed as he shuffled his burdens onto the nearby table. At least a dozen packs of pads in varying sizes spilled out and onto the floor. “I was told before I left that she was bleeding and in pain! Is that not still true, human?”

Tired, halfhearted signs from Frisk assured him that it was very much the truth and he huffed, folding his arms and giving the Queen an expectant stare that spoke volumes of “You see?”

“U-Um, I’ve been doing a lot of research on h-human biology,” Alphys piped up. “T-Tori—Queen Toriel asked me to find out whatever I could s-since Frisk is staying with her f-for the foreseeable future…So anyway…No, she’s not injured, Papyrus. Approximately half of the human p-population experiences bleeding like this every month, once they c-come of age.”

“Wh—Seriously? Frisk is going to get laid up like this every single month? As in every month, every year, forever?!” Undyne sputtered. “That’s just a big hassle! Humans come with so many botched parts! Never mind bleeding out; if I were the one dealing with it, I’d probably just get bored to death!”

“Good heavens, Frisk is not going to bleed to death!” Toriel exclaimed, paw tightening against Frisk’s head as she shuddered. “It is only a small portion of blood to lose. She ought to be well again in a week or so. Correct, Alphys?”

“Yeah, that’s right! She should be j-just fine,” Alphys promised hastily, wringing her claws as she mustered the courage to rush on. “And, Undyne, I think that if humans like her do have to deal with this every month, it…it must make them p-pretty tough. Right? So Frisk shouldn’t, um…be made to feel bad about it. You know?”

She must have noticed how the flush in Frisk’s face had deepened, leading her to curl deeper into her throw blanket. After everything Frisk had done to influence their kind, it was easy to forget sometimes that she could still be a scared, uncertain kid. For a moment Undyne looked stricken at the realization, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Oh! I wasn’t implying she should feel bad about it! She probably already feels bad enough; it’s gotta suck! It’s not her fault her body’s turning traitor. Uhh…” Hoping to compensate, she forced a toothy grin. “Hey! Maybe it’ll make for some sick scars!”

Rather unlikely, Toriel thought with some amusement, though she didn’t correct her. Undyne seemed to have the same trouble that Papyrus did, understanding blood without a wound.

“Hey, kid. I got a bag of rice warmed up,” Sans greeted as he strolled out of the kitchen toward the couch. “Should be nice for your side, right? Down but hot out.”

“Brother! You actually cooked something?” Papyrus gasped, belatedly forced to fight his instinctive smile in exchange for a distasteful sniff. “Of course, I would feel some modicum of pride for you if it weren’t for that infuriating pun!”

“Well, that’s not very rice of you,” Sans retorted, laying an affected hand over his soul. “That heat me too close to home! If you’re going to insult some rare, special edition cooking, at least give me some advance warming.”

He glanced to the couch, where the lump under the blanket was shaking in silent laughter. Toriel chuckled too and it spurred him on. “I put in a hot of effort to do this, y’know. It was no easy heat. Maybe it’ll leave a hot to be desired—or for all I know, this is as good as it sweats! I had to rice to the challenge and give it my best hot, for the kid’s sake. Don’t grain on my parade.”

“Alright, alright! By the time you finish, it’s sure to go cold!” Papyrus groaned, shoving Sans toward the couch so he could hand the rice bag off to its owner. “How did you successfully use the same ‘hot’ wordplay more than once in four sentences?!”

“I’m just that good.” At Toriel’s nod of approval, Sans poked a couple of fingers under the blanket, pulling its corner back to reveal Frisk wearing a watery smile. He returned it. “There, see? That’s the brave kid we know. You’ve got this.”

She accepted the hot bag with a signed thank-you, wincing faintly as she draped it over her sore stomach. It would stay toasty for a good, long while, warmth trapped under the blanket’s folds.

“And, uh, don’t tell your mom or anything,” Sans added with a quick wink to counter Toriel’s raised eyebrow. “But I might have snagged some chocolate I can sneak to you later. If you’re gonna be lazing around with me for a week, I gotta show you how to get cavities properly.”

“I must applaud your model example, my friend,” Toriel huffed, though it didn’t hold too much reproach. Her mind was already wandering. If Chara were still…That chocolate would have been long gone before Sans could come across it.

This bleeding was just another reminder of how quickly Frisk was growing up. How would Chara have treated this coming of age, had it come to pass? How comforted would Frisk be to have a sibling who understood?

With wistful fondness, she would always be left to wonder.

#undertale #fanfiction #frisk #female frisk #toriel #papyrus #papyrus undertale #alphys #undyne #sans #sans undertale #growing up #menstruation #interspecies awkwardness #fluff #domestic fluff #family fluff

[i-call-me-clarence]

So @ao3commentoftheday suggested people make rec lists during these trying times and I decided to go ahead and jump on the band wagon. Here is a list of 13 Johnlock fics, sorted from shortest to longest. There’s H/C, PWP, Case Fics, PRETEND RELATIONSHIPS, and some pretty dank AU’s. 

Okay then, onto the tropes!

(fics listed below)

Caught by Salambo06 (AO3) ( @salambo06fics)

Author’s Summary: A hotel room. They’re here for a case, hadn’t planned to spend the night and ended up sharing a room. No, sharing a bed. Suddenly John is very much aware of his own hand closed around his hard cock and the ragged breathing next to him. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, John dares to turn his head just enough to confirm what he already knows.

Sherlock, on his side, watching him.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,859

Tags/Warnings: bed sharing, wet dreams, POV John, Masturbation, Frottage, First Time, First Kiss

A PWP that’s scorching hot. ‘Nough said. (BUTOMG it is REALLY hot, beware reading in public yo)

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Paranoia by Ewebie (AO3) ( @ewebie​)

Author’s Summary: is a description of the rules of the drinking game Paranoia and also too long to put here! But suffice it to say that this fic involves drinking games at the Yard.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,789

Tags/Warnings: Tumblr Prompt, Drinking Games, Silly... no smut but building fun and allusions to upcoming rrrwarr

I love fics where the team at the Yard and the boys all get drunk together. Throw in a drinking game and I’m already hooked. This fic was really funny and cheered me up when I was sick with the flu a while back (perfect time to read it again!)

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Coldness/Heat by agirlsname (AO3) ( @agrlsname)

Author’s Summary: The inn is booked up on New Year's Eve. The train home is cancelled because of the snow. The only option is to sleep in the non-heated guest room of a client, and John and Sherlock are freezing.

You know where this is going.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,790

Tags/Warnings: Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bedsharing, Sharing Body Heat, Frottage New Year's Eve, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers

THERE IS ONLY ONE BED! AND THEY ARE SO COLD! WHATEVER ARE OUR BOYS TO DO?!?!?! Turn it up to 11 in this amazing PWP, that’s what.

---- Stranded by BeautifulFiction (AO3) ( @the-pen-pot ) 

Author’s Summary: ‘Do you think we’re less than that – best friends? Or more?’

John’s head pulled back, and the look he received suggested John was seriously wondering how someone so intelligent could be so stupid. ‘Well, definitely not less.’

 When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 5,798

Tags/Warnings: case fic, cuddling for warmth, first kiss

I really liked this fic. It really drew me in with it’s imagery, I could see the scenes as easily as I could see John and Sherlock getting together in this way.

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Azure On Grey by shiplocks_of_love (AO3) ( @shiplocks-of-love )

Author’s Summary: When Sherlock’s transport betrays him and conventional healthcare fails to help, John comes up with an unorthodox solution…

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 8,986

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Medical issues, Kidney Stones, Embarrassing Situations, brief mention of past substance abuse, unorthodox medical treatments, Amusement Parks, Intimacy, hints of romance, Pining John, friends to almost lovers

This fic is a wonderful H/C that features a sick Sherlock who can be exceptionally fragile at times, and a caring Watson. Makes me wish I’d had a John around when I had kidney stones :’(

---- Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (AO3) ( @cypress-tree​)

Author’s Summary: John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times. Meanwhile, I conduct my own experiment: how much UST can I shove into a single fic?

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10,669

Tags/Warnings: Unresolved Sexual Tension, it's for an experiment John, Resolved Sexual Tension, smut

Sexy, silly, amazing.

---- Chaperones by MissDavis (AO3) ( @missdaviswrites​)

Author’s Summary: Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?"

"Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 34,115

Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Room, Sharing a Bed. Disney World, Parentlock, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss

I’ll just use what I wrote when I bookmarked this lovely fic: I’ve never been more compelled by Disney related things than when I was reading this fic. I’ll never go to Disney World, but I’ll sure as hell read this fic again omg was it good

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The Darkness Within, So Close by shiplocks_of_love (AO3) ( @shiplocks-of-love​ ) ((I hope @ing you twice doesn’t cause any issues! Sorry in advance. Tumblr confuses me))

Author’s Summary: Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller deal with a new string of murders in Broadchurch. Help comes from an unlikely place as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson travel to West Dorset. But when the new crimes open old wounds and unearth the ghost of Moriarty, it becomes clear the game is not over yet.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 42,312

Tags/Warnings: casefic, Sherlock x Broadchurch crossover fic, Underage Death, Murder, MAJOR spoilers for Broadchurch S1 and S2 and for Sherlock S3, post S3 Sherlock, post S2 Broadchurch, you are MOST welcome to put johnlock glasses on but this is pre-slash okay?, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

I haven’t actually finished this fic yet, but the characterizations for the characters of both universes are spot on. When Alec Hardy started shouting at the beginning, David Tennant appeared in my room and started reading the fic aloud to me. True story. Also this fic is part of a series, so, like, that’s amazing.

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The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (AO3) ( Tumblr: https://flawedamythyst.tumblr.com/) ((couldn’t @  you for some reason. Prob, again, because Tumblr makes my brain hurt))

Author’s Summary: Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock's faked death and return.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 47,798

Tags/Warnings: case fic, fake/pretend relationship, couples retreat, bed sharing, therapy (for a case...that’s a weird tag but I read this in fic so often so), pining John, UST, First Kiss, getting together

Amazing fic by an amazing writer. I have a weakness for ‘pretend relationship for a case’, especially when it’s filled with pining and ust. So in other words this fic is perfect. 

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Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (AO3) ( @silentauroriamthereal​)

Author’s Summary: Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly nine months after series 4.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 58,887

Tags/Warnings: post-series 4, Romance, Awkwardness galore, fake couple trope, Therapy, sex trafficking ring, First Times, Massages, wet t-shirt contest, Group Therapy, loss of child (past), Bed-sharing

Pretend relationship for a case, and it’s a really good case too! Plus it’s at a couples therapy retreat, I mean, come on!! And the OC’s, don’t even get me started on them, because I won’t be able to stop singing their praises. This fic was sent by the gods through the blood sweat and tears of the extremely talented SilentAuror. You should honestly just go and binge all of their stuff. What else are you gonna do during quarantine? OH! And guess what??? THERE’S A SEQUEL! 

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Sensory Science by sussexbound(SamanthaLenore) (AO3) ( @sussexbound​)

Author’s Summary: John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend.

One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 80,017

Tags/Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, ASMR, first meeting AU, problem drinking, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Homophobic Language, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage, Prostate Orgasm, Phone Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Frottage, Coming Untouched, Aborted Blowjobs, Rimming

Amazing fic that really draws you in. Even if ASMR isn’t necessarily your thing, this is still a fantastic read. I mean, it’s by sussexbound, so what else would you expect?

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Rewind by All_I_Need (AO3) ( @the-reading-lemon​)

Author’s Summary: About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 87,594

Tags/Warnings: Pining, Angst, John is an oblivious idiot, all the feels, Rewind - Freeform, what if, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, literally everyone sees more than John does, Fake/Pretend Relationship

THIS FIC! This fic!! Let me tell you a thing about this fic: it’s amazing! I haven’t finished it completely, but the unique ‘rewind’ effect is something I hadn’t ever seen before. Interesting concept, pretend relationship for a case, hot, hot smut, AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED. What more could you want in a fic, honestly?

---- Out There by DiscordantWords (AO3) ( @discordantwords​)

Author’s Summary: FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 131,695

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - X-Files Fusion, Slow Burn, UST, No seriously a lot of UST, This is the X files they basically wrote the book on UST, casefic, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Pining Sherlock, Pining John, First Kiss, Coma

The X-files/Sherlock crossover I always needed in my life. I think at least a few other Johnlockers out there (ha! Fic title) have watched X-files and thought ‘holy cow this is so John and Sherlock, I need the AU or else I’ll die’. Well look no further! No need to die! Read and watch as all your X-files/Sherlock wishes come true :D

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And that concludes this rec list! There will prob be a part 2 coming out as I’ve got hundreds of fics saved on this pairing. Also stay tuned for fic rec lists for some of my other fav ships! Spirk, Garashir, Hannigram, Bunny/Raffles, and more!!

#johnlock fic rec list #johnlock fic rec #something to read while quarantined #first rec list so #i am excite #also making that banner up there was super fun #johnlock #fanfic #sherlock fan fiction #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic recs

[purplesurveys]

1195

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.

... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((

... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.

... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.

... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.

... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.

... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.

... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.

... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.

... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.

... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.

... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.

... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.

... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.

... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.

... knows you the best? My two best friends.

... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.

... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.

... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.

... is the most organised that you know? My mom.

... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.

... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.

... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.

... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.

... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.

... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.

...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.

...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.

...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.

...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.

... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.

... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.

...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.

...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.

...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.

...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.

...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.

...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.

...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.

...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.

...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.

...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.

...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.

:: What ::

Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.

Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.

Is your birthday? April 21.

Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.

Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.

Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.

Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.

Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.

Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.

Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.

Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.

Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.

Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.

Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.

Are your initials? RC.

Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.

Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.

Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.

Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.

Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.

Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.

Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.

Subject were you good at in school? History.

Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.

Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.

Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.

TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.

Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.

Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.

Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.

Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.

Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.

Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.

Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.

Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.

Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.

Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.

Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.

Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/

Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.

:: Where ::

Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.

Were you born? Manila.

Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.

Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.

Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.

Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.

Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.

Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.

Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.

Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.

Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.

Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.

Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.

Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.

Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.

Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.

Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.

Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.

Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.

Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.

Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.

:: When ::

...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.

...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.

...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.

...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.

...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.

...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.

...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.

...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.

...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.

...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.

...did you last watch a movie? September.

...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.

...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.

...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.

...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.

...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.

...did you last have a sick day? May last year.

...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.

...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.

...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.

...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have? Two.

Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.

Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.

Well can you cook? I can’t at all.

Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.

Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.

Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.

Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!

Serious are you about your career goals? Very.

Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.

Many bedrooms in your house? 4.

Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.

Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.

Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.

Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset. 

Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.

Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.

Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.

Musical are you (1-10): 0.

Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.

Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.

Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha

Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:

Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.

Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.

Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.

Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.

Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.

Often do you paint your nails? Never.

Many countries have you visited? Six.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.

:: Why ::

... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.

... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.

... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.

...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.

...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.

...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.

...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^

:: If...::

You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.

You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.

You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.  

You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.

You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.

You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.

You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.

:: Can ::

... you ride a bike? No, never learned.

... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.

... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.

... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.

... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.

... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.

... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver. 

... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.

... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.

... your parents drive? Yep.

...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.

...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.

...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.

...you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.

Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.

Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.

Risk your life for anyone? Yes.

You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.

You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.

You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.

#survey #surveys