#the eyelashes on the last two are killing me though dog lmao

[simsfromupthere]

unedited gameplay screenshots cause currently im in fact working hard not hardly working

#simblr #my stuff #my sims #ts4 #sims4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 screencaps #ts4 gameplay #random screenshots #the eyelashes on the last two are killing me though dog lmao #but life's (and meds) been whooping me so decent lately i dont even have the will to open photoshop and use the cloning tool or smthing aaa

[darthmaulification]

(Idk why I thought this but I think it’s funny) Imagine din and reader going back to visit Karga for a job and reader is a apparent heart throb to most of the villagers (not that she knows) and like “hi mrs. Parker” Friday style, these women are see them walking by going “hi Reader~” with cara teasing of reader the whole time having to tell the ladies that reader is already taken with din.

A/N: you are my very first  request, so i decided to do a full, bonifide one shot! thank you so very much!! 🥰💕💕

oddly enough, din doesn’t show his bucket in this until the very end. 💀 it became really cara-centric for some reason. hope that’s okay! 😖

also, the trope of “everyone collectively loves person, but person is so utterly oblivious to it” is, without fail, one of the funniest bits any piece of media can pull lmao.

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: references of sex (kinda), saucy language, gender neutral!reader (my first time writing a gn reader 😲), reader being completely “no thoughts head empty” type of oblivious, cara just brutally teasing reader, soft!din makes an appearance!, cara is also kinda a bisexual icon???

word count: 1,775

“... What do you mean?” 

Cara looks at you strange. She searches your face for a few seconds longer, eyebrows furrowed, trying to see if you’re serious. 

“Are you fucking with me?” She deadpans evenly, and you tilt your head slightly, blinking. You slowly shake your head, raising an eyebrow.

“No...?” You drag out the word and Cara barks a sudden, loud laugh at your genuine confusion, tossing back her head as she does. She straightens up in her seat, still chuckling lightly, and picks up her glass of spotchka. Cara leans against the backrest, draping her free arm over it.

“You’re really not fucking with me, huh?” She mutters with a grin, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a low, long sip, her eyes not leaving yours. You frown, puzzled.

“Cara, I have no ide—"

“Everyone wants to fuck you.” Cara interrupts and it takes a moment for the blunt, vulgar words to register, but when they do you feel heat rise in your cheeks. You visibly recoil, sputtering out an answer.

“I— What are— There's no—” All Cara does as you fumble over your words, getting more and more red in the face, is shrug, an easy grin on her face.

“Yeah, everyone wants to get in your pants, can’t say I blame ‘em.” Her grin turns downright predatory and it gives you the final push to spit out a reply.

“WHAT?” The word comes out incredulous and far louder that you had meant, causing you to cringe at the sound of your voice reverberating in the cantina. People glance over at you and you give the crowd a sheepish, nervous smile. Thankfully, everyone turns back to whatever they were doing, no questions asked. Then your head whips back to Cara, whose all smug-looking, to shoot her a glare. Your face is positively burning, and you just know she can see it.

“Are you fucking with me?” You throw her own question back at her, but it falls flat because all it does is grow the shit-eating grin that’s plastered on Cara’s face. She shrugs, gesturing around lazily to the room at large.

“Jax, the Rodian over there, gives you puppy dog eyes, Kol and Zaltor— the Trandoshans, not the Togrutas, by the way— look at your ass every time they get, that pink Twi’lek gal over there practically fawns over you— think her names’ Numa or Nima or something, the Duros over there...”

Cara continues listing off more and more names, and with each one (some who you know and have spoken to) you feel yourself getting more and more flustered. You sink low in your chair, staring wide eyed into your spotchka, hands on your temples.

“Good Maker.” You groan, placing your hands over your face and slumping onto the table. Cara (finally) stops listing literally the entire population of the village and gazes at you quizzically. She tilts her head.

“Don’t like being the sex idol of the town?” She teases and you groan again, louder this time. You glare up at her through your fingers, still furiously blushing. Oh, how you wish Din was here to beat the snot out of Miss Dune...

“No. This is a nightmare.” You growl out, going back to digging your face into the table, hoping the sandstone would just swallow you whole. Before Cara can reply, a new voice sounds up.

“U-Um, hi.” You stiffen and turn your head to the side to see two Twi’leks, one taller than the other, standing next to the table. They seem a bit nervous, fidgeting with their lekku and rocking on their feet, but something tells you they’re here for... something. The moment you meet Cara’s gaze, your face blanches.

“Kill me now.”

“Hey, pretty ladies.”

You groan and Cara flirts at the exact same time, Cara’s strong voice unfortunately gaining the upper hand. Both Twi’lek giggle, and the taller of the two, the lavender skinned one, flutters her eyelashes. Even more unfortunately, you make eye contact with her. She flushes when you meet her gaze.

“O-Oh my— Stars, um hi!” She and her companion devolve into giggles again and you force yourself to sit up. Giving them a forced smile, you rest your hands under your chin and elbows on the table.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” You ask through gritted teeth, attempting to keep your strained voice relatively nice, while also fighting back both the blush that’s still on your cheeks and the urge to shoot Cara with your blaster. Thankfully, the Twi’leks have gotten over the apparent “meeting their idol” giggles, because now the shorter one places a dusty tan hand on the table and leans in. A bright, stunning smile spreads across her face, but something flirty burns in her eyes.

“Mm. Me and my sister here have just been seeing you around so often.” She says, voice a obviously practiced mix of playfully coy and feigning ignorance. You glance from her, to her lavender sister, then to Cara. And your luck must really be in the gutters, or maybe Cara just wants to torture you—or both— but the mercenary only offers you a grin, lifts her spotchka to her lips, and sips. Your hands curl into fists.

“Yeah, I—” 

“You’re talking to Mando’s squeeze, babes.” Cara interrupts yet again and all three sets of eyes land on her. Two of them moon-eyed and incredulous if not also disappointed, one of them so embarrassed that Carasynthia Dune, you are a dead woman—

“Really?” The lavender Twi'lek’s eyes are so blown wide you almost think they’d roll out of her head. Her sister looks just as awestruck, and both look a tad bit fearful. You go to speak, but Cara (you’re really starting to hate her) opens her mouth again and beats you to the cut.

“Mm hm. Y’all are hitting on the Mando’s sweetheart. Pretty bold, honestly, he’s real protective over this one.” The blush you put all your hard work into smothering returns full force at Cara’s words, and the Twi’leks start looking a bit flustered themselves, though for another reason.

“So sorry!” The lavender one breaks first and goes running off to a Rodian and Zabrak sitting at a far table. She leans in close, seeming to whisper something into their ears, and suddenly all three of them are looking at you with a strange mix of disappointment, lust, and fear. You hastily look away and hide your face behind your hand.

“Aw. Shame.” The tan Twi’lek purses her lips, pushing herself off the table, and you begrudgingly force yourself to look at her. She gives you that stunning smile again and winks.

“You know I’m here for you.” She says and sashays off to where her sister is. Across the room, she gives you another wink and flutters her fingers. Pretty sure that all your bloods’ in your face, you turn to Cara, slowly.

“Cara.” You say her name lowly, looking her dead in the eye. She’s grinning, and blows a lock of her hair out of her face. She feigns an unassuming, innocent look, but both you and her know better.

“Yeah?” She’s walking on thin ice and she knows it, but you also know she’s never been afraid of risk.

“I’m going to kill you.” You say, coming across as deadly serious as you possibly can. Cara’s grin widens, her eyes twinkling, and she downs the last of her spotchka.

“I know,” She starts and she shrugs, “But you know I couldn’t resist.”

You want to reach over and smack her a good one, but a voice alerts you to a certain someone at your side.

“Hey.” Din’s low, modulated voice gentle pulls your attention to him and you turn your head to look up at your silver-clad lover. Even with the dark T-visor, you know exactly where to look to find those soft, doe eyes beneath it. A small smile creeps across your face.

“Hey.” You reply and he offers a hand to you, which you gladly accept. Like always, his hand is large and warm and strong, and it makes you feel completely at peace. Din helps you up to your feet, settling you close, but not too close, to his side. 

“I got the next few pucks, and the kid’s already in the Crest, so we’re ready to head out...” Din trails off and tilts his head, and you can feel his curious gaze roam your face. 

“Your face is... pretty flushed. Are you feeling okay?” He asks it so gently and sweetly, his gloved hand still holding yours, that it’s almost enough to make you forget why your all disheveled in the first place. Letting out a forced, somewhat breathy laugh, you pull your hand away to cross your arms over your chest.

“Um, yeah, yeah— I’m good.” You assure him, but Din knows you so he turns his attention on Cara, whose sprawl in her seat, looking like a satisfied loth cat.

“What did you do?” He asks, keeping his voice neutral, but there’s a hint of that good ol’ Din Protectiveness seeping in too. Part of you celebrates that Din’s finally here to beat up Cara, but all the other parts of you just want to hop on back the Razor Crest and get the Hell out of here. Cara lazily raises her hands in mock surrender, tilting her head into her shoulder.

“Just playing, that’s all.” She replies, eying your spotchka from across the table. She and Din are in some type of staring match even as she reaches and snags your drink. You don’t care enough to protest. Din stares at Cara for a few seconds longer before he shifts on his feet and turns back to you.

“Ready to go, cyare?” His voice is like warm like sunshine, and it makes your entire being light up. You nod and smile, uncrossing your arms to grab his hand. His thick fingers close around yours, encasing your hand in his.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You reply as you both start walking, tethered to one another by the most sacred link you can while in public. Din and you walk side by side, a Mandalorian and his beloved, through the cantina and out the door.

Cara watches you leave, then looks around at all the inhabitants of the cantina who had also watched you and the Mando leave hand-in-hand. She nearly laughs at all the looks of disappointment. You really were the village heart throb.

And as Cara downs the last of her (your) spotchka, she ponders,

Dammit. Wish it was me instead of Mando.

#star wars #star wars din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #cara dune #anon #anon ask #request

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x reader fluff

Request: Hello!! ✨ Can i request something fluffy with Korekiyo (it would be nice if it would be with his pregame version (but original is okay, too))? Maybe he's having a sleepover with reader? Thank you in advance ✨ I really like your writing. Your oneshots and imagines make my day!!

Okay I’m gonna de pregame Korekiyo like you asked! So just a tall, lanky, beautiful man with a face mask. No incest and lipstick or killing game lmao. Also I’ll make him interested in anthropology but not the Ultimate/SHSL - Admin Kokichi

     “Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose…” your best friend, Korekiyo Shinguuji, stares at you from behind his black dust mask with a concerned gaze. His brows are furrowed deeply in the center.

     Korekiyo had gotten into a fight last night with his legal guardian, his older sister. Apparently, it had been a nasty one, unlike anything that’s happened between them before. It gotten so bad that she kicked him out of the house, with no word of when he would be allowed back in.

     “Yeah, of course, Kiyo! We are buds right? You’re my bestie! I can’t let my bestie just spend the. night alone in some hotel or sleep out in the street, now can I?”

     “But Y/N-”

     “Would you let me go sleep in the street if it were me?”

     “No, I suppose not, but-”

     “Then any argument you have in invalid. Case closed!” You closed your notebook on your desk haughtily as if to signify the end of the conversation. Korekiyo sighed, a slight blush on his cheeks as he placed his head down on his desk with anxiety.

     “You’re sure your parents are okay with it?” He mumbled, his black hair cascading down his back and shoulders and splaying out around his desk.

     “Well…”

     “Y/N…” he warned, scolding you like a mad mother.

     “They will be out of town this entire week. My dad always travels for work and my bitch of a stepmother has to stay attached to his hip like a leech at all times so-”

     “Then me staying over seems highly inappropriate. I’m sure your father would-”

      “Don’t make me guilt you into coming over. You’re my friend. You’re in need, and I love spending time with you! Please?” You reached over and pulled on the sleeve of his exorbitantly-priced sweater with eyes wide like a puppy dog.

     “You win this time, Y/N, but if your father finds out and becomes hostile toward me, I’m going to blame you…” he joked breathily, shaking his head at his stubborn best friend. He couldn’t help but give into your every want and desire, and you often pulled him into your schemes and plans. Well...he called them schemes, but he was just a goody-two-shoes, so anything not morally immaculate or life-enriching was considered foolish to him.

     “Then it’s settled.” You nearly squealed. You’d been waiting forever to have him over to your house, but he’d always declined. You’d known him for about a year, and still your humble abode had remained a mystery to him. He lived with his older sister who took care of him after their parents died, and she was extremely strict with him. He was never allowed to come over after school. You’d been to his place once or twice, but always with supervision and strictly for studying or some other educational activity. If you wanted to spend time after school, he had to lie to her about where he was going and why. Finally, you’d have your crush, your best friend over to your home.

     You had to admit to yourself, you did feel a little guilty about the whole situation. You were inviting him over for mainly selfish reasons. Yes, he was your best friend and you’d never let him go without a place to stay, but there was a large part of you that just wanted the boy you liked alone and to yourself for a night or...maybe two, if this first sleepover went well. Unfortunately though, your crush on him weighed heavily on you. You felt horrible for keeping this secret of your feelings from him, because he trusted you with everything. You were so scared that letting him know that you wanted to be more than friends would ruin the close bond you two had. Yeah...it would be way too awkward to remain friends afterward if he rejected your feelings.

~

     You both were let out after the last class of the day. Korekiyo walked you back home every single day since you’d become friends. At first, you found it a bit embarrassing, seeing as he was one of the kids from the rich neighborhoods around your school and you lived in a middle-class suburb a bit further away. Your fears about your class-difference with your best friend quickly faded as you got to know him. It became clear within weeks of hanging out that he would never judge you based on financial status, whether you lived in a trailer or a palace. That was just one of the many things you loved about him. And boy could you list a bunch…

     He was intelligent, a straight-A student and teacher’s pet. He had endless wisdom and knowledge of both practical things and useless trivia. He gave the best advice, and was so passionate about both his hobbies and yours. You could talk with him forever without the topic getting dry.

     His looks only enamored you to him further. He was tall and slender, with a perfectly built frame. Unlike your peers, he never got acne, and his complexion was pore-less and smooth like marble. He was pale, and his eyes stood out like flecks of gold against an ivory surface. His hair was healthier and more majestic than any female you knew. It was long, all the way down his back, and was the deepest, darkest shade of black with delicate bangs that fell across his forehead. He was absolutely gorgeous, but for some reason he still had self-esteem issues. For this reason, he always wore a dust mask over his mouth and nose that concealed his entire lower face. You could never understand why. Everyone at school either liked him or was jealous of him, and he had nothing to hide from anyone.

     He tried to lie to you at first, stating that he had a weaker constitution and because of frequent illness and hospital visits, his sister made him wear it, but once you got closer, he admitted he liked hiding his face and it made him feel comfortable. He customized his masks, or commissioned them to be specially made, having embroidery on them or patchwork and sometimes shelling out for the more expensive leather or designer masks...which you didn’t even know existed until you met him.

     You’d tried to convince him multiple times that he was beautiful and had nothing worth covering up, but he insisted upon wearing the masks in public at least. After knowing him for a few months, he let you see his bare face, but only at his house. And man...were you blown away. He almost...looked like a woman without the mask. But not? It was hard to explain. He was like some kind of gender-less, androgynous deity. He certainly had a strong, masculine brow and jaw, but then his lips were pert and plump and soft...soft-looking at least. They were gentle and the cupid’s bow dipped down low and rounded out. He had a wide, manly chest and slender waist, but long eyelashes. Large, veiny hands, but delicate skin and hair. He was absolutely heavenly to look at. That first time, when you’d seen him without his mask, you knew you were falling hard, and it made you sweat and your heart speed up. You were always so scared that you’d go too far or flirt by accident and he’d catch on and pull away from your friendship. It hadn’t happened yet, thankfully.

     It was raining, pouring down actually, and you two rushed down the street side by side, backpacks over your heads for protection from the downpour.

     “I apologize. As you know, I would usually have an umbrella but after she kicked me out last night, Miyadera has refused to let me go in and get anything that I didn’t have on my person at the time.” He was right, he was always prepared for any possibility, and his sister had now made that impossible.

     “It’s fine. I read the forecast this morning. I should’ve brought one as well,” you yelled, the rain pelting you both loudly. “We really should get a car or something. We’re seniors for fuck’s sake.” We? You didn’t know why you’d said that. He was his own person and probably could afford to buy you both cars with his own pocket money.

     Why did you even say that?

     “Ah, but walking is better exercise! It’s good for us! Besides...Miya won’t let me buy one... you know that. She practically controls all of my funds.”

     “Kiyo, you’re 18 now, get your damn money back!”

     “I’m scared…” he chuckled, only half-joking. It was true, you both had turned 18 recently and were about to graduate, but his sister still treated him like a little kid. Pretty ironic, as you wouldn’t kick a little kid out onto the street on their own.

     You passed his neighborhood, and he looked up at it longingly, raindrops substituting tears dripping down his cheeks. You could tell this was weighing on him. He loved his home, it was where he felt safe, and he hated fighting with his sister. She was a tough guardian, yes, but she gave up her life as a young woman in her prime to raise him.

     You were approaching your street now, both of you soaked down to your socks and hoping your bags didn’t also soak through. You both had many folders of homework and electronics inside that would all be ruined if so. You reached the curb, waiting to cross into your neighborhood, when an unruly teen in his beaten-up sedan screeched by, speeding past you two carelessly. You grabbed Korekiyo’s pale, cold hand, startled by the sudden volume of the law-breaking vehicle, and you both gasped as its wheels dug into the puddle in front of you just below the curb, and splashed onto you both like a tidal wave.

     “Fuckin’ asshole!” You yelled, charging forward after the car until a hand landed firmly on your shoulder, holding you back. You swore the rain would begin to evaporate and steam up into the air with how hot your skin was right now. You were royally pissed off.

     “Y/N if he’s the type of man to do that, what do you think talking to him would accomplish? Also, do you really think it’s possible to catch up to a speeding vehicle on foot?” Always the voice of reason. Always so calm and mature. You usually admired that in him, but right now you were seeing red, and his dismissal of your mood made you a bit ticked off at him as well.

     “But! I-gah! Aren’t you pissed? He just-”

     “Got us wet? We were already wet.”

     “But he did that on purpose!”

     “I know. Being irate changes nothing. Come on, once we are inside I’m sure we can get warm and dry off. I’ll keep you warm,” he smiled gently behind his mask, his eyes crinkling. Your cheeks would’ve heated up had your body not already been aflame from rage. You didn’t know why you were always so flustered when he was caring toward you or touched you or even mentioned touching you. You felt gross reveling in his platonic intimacy so much. It felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness. Yes, he could keep you warm once you got home. That was normal. You two always cuddled or held hands or leaned on each other. You were just that close. But it was all just casual, as friends...right?

     “Y-yeah. You can shower and I have some baggier, more comfortable clothes you can wear to hang out and sleep in. I think those should fit.” Korekiyo was taller than you and awfully skinny but you had some general sweatpants and oversized t-shirts that you were sure would fit anyone comfortably. You knew Korekiyo was used to the best and most expensive textiles and fashion, but for just hanging out at your house? It should be fine.

     “That’s very kind of you, thanks.” You were sure he was thinking: how could you put me in peasant-wear, but he would never say that aloud to you. “Why do you have that awful look on your face? Did I say something to offend you, Y/N?” He took your hand in his as you reached your front door and rummaged through your bag for your house keys, Korekiyo holding his phone’s flashlight over your bag to assist you.

     “No, I’m fine, Kiyo, why?” The keys jingled in the lock and you opened the door.

     “You know you can’t lie to me, Y/N,” his voice dropped into a low rumble, and you got chills down your spine. He was just so...sexy without even trying.

     “I just...sometimes I feel bad that you spend so much time with me or like I’m not enough, like the rest of our classmates who live in that bougie housing plan of yours...like with the clothes I’m giving you tonight. I feel like you deserve better or like...like what if those kids start to judge you one day because you’re hanging out with people that are beneath you.”

     “Y/N,” he stopped you, rolling his eyes as you both dropped your soaking bags and overcoats on the floor on your living room, “You’re my ‘bestie’ as you always say,” he chuckled dryly. “Do you really think I care what clothes I’m wearing when we are alone or what any of our peers think of my friendship with you? I know you know me far better than that… where is this all coming from? You’re unusually… emotional today,” he took your hand once again, leading you to the couch, but pausing before sitting down with you. “I do not wish to soak your couch. That shower would be nice about now,” you could see the pallor of his skin, coated like wet porcelain as he shook slightly.

     “Y-yes! Well okay, we have a bathroom in my parent’s master bedroom and one just in the hallway for guests and myself. You can take the master bedroom one, it’s much nicer,” you stuttered.

     “Why do you insist on babying me and always thinking I need pampered or require only the finer things in life? I was born wealthy, I don’t need all of those things. I think your house is wonderful,” he gestured around him, “just like you!” He encouraged you before letting you lead him upstairs. You ran to the bathroom closet then to your room, leaving him in the dark hallway alone for just a moment. He observed the photos on your wall, the paint, the carpet. Why would he judge you for any of this?

     You returned with the sleep-wear you promised and a fresh towel.

     “You can go ahead and use anything in there. My dad won’t even notice. B-but... if you don’t like his soaps and shampoos let me know. I have quite the skincare and bathing collection!” You were a little proud of that fact, and he smiled at the happiness finally leaking back into your attitude.

     “I’m sure it will all be fine. Thank you, Y/N.” He nodded, taking the towel and clothes from you before heading into your father’s room. You turned on your heel, fetching what you needed before taking a shower of your own in the hallway’s smaller bathroom.

~

     You sighed, but not in relief or relaxation, letting the hot water fall over you and loosen your tense muscles. You felt just so...fucked up. Conflicted. Confused. Guilty...love-struck. You didn’t know what to do and felt extremely overwhelmed.

     Tonight would be the best opportunity to tell him how you feel: alone, private, cozy and warm, cuddling up together? Yes, that was perfect...but at the same time, if he rejects you, then what? He leaves immediately and has nowhere to go? Or maybe he stays the night to be polite and there’s an awkward silence between you for the rest of your lives...what if he avoids you after school and no longer wants to go to the same university as you?! Your head was spinning.

     Why am I such a coward...you thought to yourself, tears mingling with the shower water.

~

     When you finally dried off and got dressed, Korekiyo was already waiting for you in your room, having turned on your electric blanket on your bed and sitting patiently waiting for you underneath it. His hair was damp and his mask was on your night stand. He acknowledged your entrance with a warm grin and patted the bed next to him.

     “Why are you in bed? It’s only like five, I was thinking we would go downstairs and cuddle on the couch and eat something-” you approached him slowly and he cut you off.

     “Goodness, Y/N, what’s wrong?” He stood to meet you, inches away and towering over you.

      “Huh?” He took your chin in his hands and tilted it upwards to meet his dandelion-colored eyes.

     “Your eyes are all puffed up. You’ve been crying? Why?” Wow…

     “You never miss a thing, huh, Kiyo?” You tried to change the subject or lighten the mood or...anything!

     “Only when it comes to you~” he hummed before leading you down the stairs and onto your couch. You dragged along behind him like a child being forced to the dentist. “Now, what’s upsetting you? You can tell me anything, you know that…” his eyes were full of concern and he but his lower lip, apprehensive.

     “Kiyo, I- well….it’s just...nothing’s wrong. Let’s go get some snacks. I know you love soup dumplings with white rice~” You smiled weakly.

     “First of all, that’s more of a meal than a snack, but anyway, you know you can’t lie to me, Y/N.”

     “I just...I just want...this is so hard.” You sighed, voice faltering.

     “What’s so hard? Me sleeping over, or your dad being gone? The rain earlier?”

     “No no.... I want you here and you know I don’t miss my dad...a-and I feel much better after washing up…” your voice trailed off. He took your hand one final time that night.

     And then...

     “May I kiss you?” Kiyo spoke so gently, so scared and soft, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. Your eyes widened in shock.

     “W-what?!” You pulled away from him, incredulous.

     “I want to kiss you, Y/N. Will you allow me?” You paused for a moment, your mind reeling, but then you nodded slowly, your brain taking over and deciding it knew what was best for you.

     Korekiyo leaned in, the couch squeaking a bit at the shift of weight. He clasped your chin with one hand, and guided you to him. His lips pressed gently into yours, as if he thought he might break you if he went any further. His lips were plush, surging with warmth, exactly how you’d always imagined them. After pecking you, he pulled back, looking for consent, looking for a sign that you enjoyed that, too. You nodded, getting the hint, and he pressed back onto you, a bit more liberal with his affection this time around.

     “Mmm…” you moaned into the kiss as you both tilted your heads at an angle to reach deeper, and his mouth slid open. His tongue trailed against your bottom lip and you opened up without hesitation, your heart going a mile a minute. His tongue massaged yours carefully for a long moment that seemed frozen in time, and then he pulled back. You both sat staring at each other, panting a bit, until a smirk teased across the corner of his lips, and a blush appeared on his normally-concealed face. “H-how...how did you know?”

     “I’ve always known…” you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame wash over you. “You’re not good at hiding it.”

     “Kiyo...I’m so sorry. I know we are just friends and I shouldn’t feel this way. I just- you are...I can’t stop feeling this way.”

     “Y/N...did you think I asked to kiss you out of pity…?” He saw something like realization register in your expression, and he reached out, pulling you into his chest.

     “You...you feel the same?”

     “Exactly the same.” You didn’t feel so guilty anymore. “And I suppose we both were just too afraid of rejection to say anything. But knowing you, I knew I would have to make the first move if I ever wanted you to myself…” he hugged you tighter with those words.

     “Y-yeah, I’m sorry about that...Kiyo, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

     “And I should’ve told you, but there’s no use feeling guilty. We both want this.”

     “Kiyo, will you...be my boyfriend…?” You now knew his true feelings, but still felt a lump in your throat. What if he didn’t want a committed, serious relationship right now, or his sister wouldn’t allow it...?

     “I want that more than anything.”

     You spent the rest of the night cooking soup dumplings, then shoving your faces with the greasiest snacks money could buy and watching documentaries while snuggled into his lap on the couch. He pointed out little facts and trivia along with each documentary, his obsession for culture and anthropology unabashedly taking over.

#korekiyo x reader #korekiyo shinguuji #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa killing harmony #new semester of killing #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #fluff #angst #romance #pregame #crush #y/n #s/o #friends to lovers #modkokichi #request #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #scenario #Trigger happy havoc #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #first kiss #sfw

[moskaisley]

migraine pt.3 | chronic

gif: @logan-solo​

rating: mature

word count: 3k

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, fluff but also ANGST, jealous!mando aka my favorite kind 

a/n: this literally took so long to write bc i basically changed the last half of this fic, but i’m rly happy with the results. there was a lot i wanted to include about life before din left, and i thought i’d put them in separate like one shots, but i figured that it would be include in the main story too. this is basically like an anime recap episode LMAO. enjoy!! thanks for the love <3

summary:

“But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives.”

When you and the Mandalorian existed in another time, another place. 

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Dreams these days never really consisted of anything new. Old memories played in your head like a holovid, both the good and the bad. Tonight, they were filled with him. 

In the beginning, the two of you never really acknowledged what it was. 

You fucked only a few more times after the cockpit. Business always came first, of course, and sex wasn’t a regular occurrence. But when the tension (often mixed with the adrenaline of bounty hunting) became too much to handle, you were all over each other. Most of the time, you were in either of each other’s bunks, and you only did it in the cockpit when you couldn’t bother to go down the ladder. At first, you chalked it up to strictly satisfying physical needs. With the two of you in such close quarters, it only made sense. The aftermath often involved getting dressed and cleaned up in silence. There would be an occasional joke or two, but the discussion usually steered itself towards the next mission. 

But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives. Your hands would linger on each other longer. He seemed to loosen up around you, joke around and indulge you in conversation. It was such a stark contrast to his menacing, stoic warrior demeanour he used when rounding up bounties.

Once, you found yourself too distracted and flustered to even spar with him.

“At this rate, you’ll never win a match against me,” he poked, legs straddling your waist as he pinned your arms down

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, irritated. He had won against you using the same move, twice. 

You’d never tell him, but your eyes were definitely indulging over the build of his body, imagining the way his bare muscles flexed or his lips moved against yours. 

Squirming against him, you hiss, “Off, Mando.”

He chuckles and your chest tightens. I bet his real voice sounds like heaven.

“I dunno, I think I like you like this.”

He studies you under him, helmet tilting sideways watching your chest heave up and down. A wave of heat washes over you at the thought of tearing off his mask and pulling him down for a kiss. Mando lightly laughs again and you swear you’re going to fucking lose it.

“I think you like it too.”

With all your strength, you bring your knee into the small of his back, knocking him forwards as you twist to launch him off of you. After shuffling up to stand, you spin on your heels and march away, embarrassed at how he’s got you flushed and smiling like an idiot schoolgirl. 

He’s still groaning in pain when he calls to you, “Done already?”

You stumble on a witty response, “You’re the worst!”

Smooth.

--

You weren't the only one losing their cool. Mando became a lot more defensive of you in those days; you nearly killed him once because he kept trying to cover you from blaster fire. He even started a bar fight for you. 

You hated the stares you received by virtue of being around him; traveling with him always meant that being unassuming was impossible. Normally, people would avert their eyes. If you were particularly lucky, a poor soul would try and push the Mandalorian’s buttons, not realizing they’re digging their own graves. One day, however, you’d hit the jackpot when they decided to  target you. 

You sat across from him in a booth, patiently waiting for the quarry to pass through; you took the side facing the door while he was turned away, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, three drunk bumbling idiots stumbled from the opposite end of the bar. Despite your stealthy gaze, one of them locked eyes with you, and when you saw his lips curl into a disgusting smile, you knew you were in for it. 

The man you saw and sauntered over to your side of the chair. His friends shuffled behind him like dogs, and he practically beamed when he saw Mando, seemingly nonchalant.

“My my, Mando! You’ve got quite the catch here,” he says, undressing you with his eyes, “Where’d he buy a thing like you, baby?”

Are you fucking serious?

You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a glare in response, but remained quiet. You turn back to your view on the door, praying to Maker that he’d leave you alone. But the man didn’t let up.

Instead, he turns to your partner inquiring,

“How good of a lay is she, huh, Mandalorian? Bet she’d be a real treat for me and my boys” his men move a little closer to corner you both, “How much to take her off your hands?”

Can a girl just exist?

“I’m not for sale,” you snarl, voice tight. A dull pain begins to echo in your temples.

“So she speaks,” Your irritation only seemed to egg him on, “C'mon darlin’ let us take care of you. I promise I’m good for it.”

Your fingers were itching towards your blades, but you were still waiting on the quarry to enter the cantina. A scene would scare him away and you would lose your money and time.

Business comes first. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Mando’s voice cut through your exchange, “Get lost, she said she’s not interested.”

“Now, that’s not what we heard, was it boys?” His men laugh in agreement behind him. His eyes turn dark as he goes to place a hand on your shoulder, “The lady can speak for herself. I think we can negotia-”

A blaster shot whizzes by your ears before you can even think to fight back against him. Mando, ever the gunslinger, shoots again towards his leg, knocking him onto the floor.

And then the whole bar descends into chaos. 

Drunkards pile on top of each other as tensions crescendo; the sound of a single shot has everybody up in arms. Your migraine only grows in intensity as the situation spirals out of control. To top it off, amidst the chaos, you see the quarry a few paces away. His eyes were wide watching the shitshow before him, and in a panic, he scurried back out the door.

You’d caught him eventually, but not without traversing the entire underground marketplace that stretched under the city. By the time he was in carbonite and you were both in the cockpit, your irritation boiled over.

“Are you insane, Din?” You fumed, “When did you get so careless? We nearly lost him!”

He simply looked at you as if you knew the answer, but his silence only fueled your exasperation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” you grumbled, throwing your hands in the air, “I’ll be in the refresher.”

You turned to leave, but his gloved hand suddenly gripped your upper arm, spinning you into his chest. It was then that you realized how much bigger he was, dwarfing you in his arms as he rubbed the space above your elbows. 

“He was gonna touch you,” Mando’s voice was low, bordering on a growl.

Oh. The air in the room shifts dramatically.

You take a shaky breath, your voice quieting down to a whisper, “And if he did?”

The gloved hands on your arms squeeze like a vice grip. Your heart swells.

“He’d have a hole in his head.”

Your expression softens before your lips spread into a sly smile. You move as close as you can, eyes boring into the black space of his visor.

“Tell me something,” you swallow hard as you gingerly move his hands to your waist and trace your fingertips over his breastplate. Mando’s breathing is ragged through his vocoder, and you relish in his excitement. You bat your eyelashes a few times before peering up at him.

“How good of a lay am I, Mandalorian?”

His fingers dig deeper into your sides before pulling you even closer, erection already stiffening against you. He groans out a response, “Let’s find out.”

--

There were little things that warmed your heart, too. When you were stuck in your bunk with a migraine, he never let you get up to do anything by yourself. He brought you water and food and he took extra care in opening the door so no light was let in and he wasn’t too loud. When you could tell he was dozing off in hyperspace, you forced him to go to bed. If he was particularly stubborn, you shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and covered him with a blanket. Sometimes, if you came across a market with a few extra credits, you’d cook him a real meal, leagues better than the shitty ration packs you normally partook in. 

And then, there was the first time he kissed you.

You were strolling through a bazaar before a job when you stopped at a produce stand, excitedly picking up a fuzzy white peach from the box.

“I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a teenager,” you say, bringing up it to your nose and sniffing, “They smell amazing. We should get some later.”

Much to your chagrin, the job went south that day. You were so frustrated and angry that you’d completely forgotten about it, caked in mud and grime demanding to go straight back to the Razor Crest.

Holed up in your bunk and fresh out the shower, you were clad in only a long sleeve shirt and underwear when you heard him knock. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see  the fiercest hunter in the parsec standing before you with a plate of peaches from the market, sliced neatly into little wedges.  

Mando sat with you on your bed as he watched you eat; you told him about how the fruit used to grow on trees in your family’s orchard in the summer. Though you acted like you were sick of them, you always ate it when you were upset. You smiled at the memory of your adolescence, silently cutting up the fruit into wedges and eating them outside during dawn, right after your first break up with some boy.

You were so caught up in the memory that you nearly jumped when Mando leaned in and took your chin in his right hand. His finger traced over the side of your lips, and your heart raced in your chest. 

“Sorry, it’s just,” he uttered, “It was going to drip on your chin.”

You would’ve thought he’d lit your body on fire. Your core ached and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. When he began to pull back, it felt like instinct to grab his wrist and keep his hand near your face. You leaned into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb. 

You began to crawl across your bunk to him when he stopped you, “Wait.”

Mando stood, and closed the door and shut the lights off. Darkness enveloped you both, and you called out to him, “Din?” His voice cut through the inky dark, “Can you see anything?”

You hear him shuffle, as he stands in front of you, “I dunno, can I?”

“Y/N,” he urged, impatient.

“No, Din. I can’t see.”

And then you hear the air hiss, and metal clanging to the floor. Realization hit like a meteor crash.

He took it off.

You panic immediately.

“Din, wait! What are you doi-”

You shut up the instant his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours.

And it felt delightful, better than any kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss. Your arms go to wrap around his neck, and you pull him even closer, elated at the way his soft hair feels in between your fingers. You were sure that he could taste the sweet, tangy peach on your tongue. When he pulls away for air, your face feels flushed with heat and you could feel your swollen lips.

You’re in a daze, “You kissed me.”

He laughs and you hear it. His real voice. No distortion. No modulator. 

“I did.”

He does sound like an angel.

“Do it again.”

--

When it all broke apart, it wasn’t like the steady, dawdling way you fell in love. The break was quick and it stung worse than any migraine. 

“What do you think?”

You walked around the cockpit, tracing your fingers over the controls. “Why? You thinking of an upgrade?” You shoot Mando a smile. He doesn’t seem amused, “It’s nice, I guess. Smaller, though. We already have a tough time fitting together in the Razor Crest.”

You’d been on Nevarro for a few days, having finally finished your last job. Instead of going back to the Crest, however, Mando took you to a shipyard and aboard an empty cruiser. The Slipstream’s windows were big and were much cleaner, but space was still an issue even if you and Din didn’t carry much.

You turn to him expecting a response, but he only says, “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Mando,” you reach for his shoulder, “What is this about? I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

He doesn’t stop to answer, “I said, let’s go.”

You let out a huff as you followed him out of the cockpit. Ever since you landed, Mando’s behavior had flipped like a switch. Your friendly talks had been reduced to one-sided exchanges. He’d been ignoring you, cold like the beskar he donned on his back. 

“Mando!”

He kept walking down the loading ramp. His terrible attitude had made your blood simmer for a while, and now it was all boiling over. 

You stomp forwards, stopping at the entrance to the hull and shout. 

“Din, stop!”

And he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

You’re fuming, “What is your problem? You’ve been in a shitty mood ever since we got here and frankly I-” You’re interrupted by something flying towards you, instinct having you catch in your hands. It’s a small silver device. Code sets, for what could only be the ship you’re currently standing on.

The dots begin to chaotically connect in your head, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s the -”

“No, Din. I know what this fucking thing is,” You’re seething with panic and rage as you hold up the silver box, “I mean, what are you doing?”

He only stares up at you, the mask emotionless and frigid. The reality of the situation was crashing into you like waves; you were begging to any god that this was just a fucked up nightmare. Tears were stinging in your eyes, threatening to pool and pour over. 

You hated how your voice cracked, “Answer me!”

“I’m leaving you, Y/N.”

Fuck. Hearing him say it out loud made your gut wrench. 

You made an audible sob; you couldn’t control it. Shuffling to the bottom of the ramp, you’re desperate to try and connect to him, bring him back to you. The questions spill from your lips.

“Why? What did I even do? What’s wrong?” You bring your hands up, cupping the sides of his helmet. You whisper through your cries, “Din, please.”

You know. You feel it in your bones. You know he feels it too. 

He gently holds your wrists, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You plead, “I know something’s wrong, you gotta let me in.”

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he chides, pulling your hands away from his helmet. Your heart feels like it’s in freefall when he turns around to continue walking.

You try to scramble forward to pull him back but to your horror, you’re met with the barrel of a blaster. The noise that roars through your ears sounds like shattering glass. You gape at him, a mixture of shock and disbelief contorting your features. The figure that stood before you was unrecognizable. Because it wasn’t Din, the soft lover who kissed you in the dark and traced words of Mando’a into your sternum. It wasn’t even Mando, the old snarky friend who joked at how bad of a shot you were and who laughs like a complete idiot when he had one too many sips.

It was the Mandalorian, the ruthless and deadly warrior poised and ready to fire you away.

--

You wake up smelling peaches and blaster smoke.

Shifting to sit up against the wall behind you, you groan at the dull ache in your head and heart. Mando is here with you at the foot of the bed; you’ve memorized the way the bunk feels with or without him. 

“Why are the lights off?” You ask.

“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up with a headache or not.”

Of fucking course. It drives you insane how considerate he is sometimes.

You suddenly become more alert as you remember, “Aayn’vida, where is she? Is she safe?”

He quells your anxiety immediately, “She’s safe. I took her to her family.”

“And Khan?”

“Cold.”

You feel him shove pills and a bottle of water into your hands. You took them, and as you both waited for the pain in your head to subside, he told you what happened in Jaemai. As it turns out, Aayn’vida’s mother was a doctor for many years, and she was kind enough to check on you and care for your wounds. Khan’s goon nicked your right side; no major organs were hit, but your skin was likely scarred since it was basically singed off. There was another thing, however. Mando had asked her about the constant migraines,  “She said that they can happen because of stress or trauma.”

You laughed bitterly, “Well, we both know I have plenty of that.”

Silence blankets you two again. Even in the dark, you can tell when the Mandalorian is uneasy. You wait for him to confess.

“If I’d known this would’ve happened, I would’ve never asked you to come with me,” he lets out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Why is he so fucking nice?

“We’ve been through worse,” you say, a familiar feeling fluttering through your chest, 

“Besides, this just means I’ve rightfully earned my 80%”

#migraine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin/reader #mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fic #baby yoda #pedro pascal #MY HEART IS POUNDING

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

You said you found your old Stucky fics and were willing to share them, so ... Please? *puppy-dog eyes*

(Gladly anon!! Forgive the mediocre writing, and also i wrote this in like 2014 before civil war so this is totally inaccurate to canon!! Sorry about that lmao!! I also have another fic {and maybe a few drabbles, some unfinished} if anyone wants it, but warning its fluff with no plot lol.  Here are my fav nerds)

Steve did not like the feeling of being shaken. He didn’t like how his words were stuck in his throat. He did not like the eating away at his heart, the parasitic monster that made his eyes water and vocal chords whimper. He hated the sight of the door before him; he wanted to kick it open.

To be fair, it was such an ugly shade of white. It was chipping at the sides and there was a light, ever so light patch of rust at the bottom of the knob. What Steve hated the most is what the door hid from him, because he so desperately wanted to see it. He needed this thing so much right now and every second he spent waiting and waiting seemed to last longer than an eternity  and the impatience was killing him.

What lay beyond that door was Bucky Barnes, who was a different Bucky Barnes but still Bucky Barnes. He was still the same boy who delivered newspapers to his house and defended him from all the bullies. That boy was incapable of talking about his feelings and he was so so good at pretending everything was okay. He was so good at smiling like everything was in place even when inside he felt drowned and tired; that was why it shook Steve to the bone when he saw him with those cold, dead eyes.

“I need to see him,” Steve said firmly, squeezing his own hand tightly, expressionless and stoic as he’s ever been.

“Steve, we talked about this..” Natasha sighed exasperatedly, closing her eyes and running a hand through her red, wavy hair. “I’ve..dealt with a controlled person before. And I get it; it really hurts..especially when it’s someone you love..” Natasha continued, her voice softer at the end. She turned to face Steve to see him sulking about, pity genuinely filling her heart.

“I know how much Bucky means to you, I really do, I understand why,” Natasha started slowly, eyes dimming thinking about the soldier, “but..he’s not ready. He’s sick and delirious..you don’t know what he’s going to be like–You might not be able to handle what happ-”

“But we can’t leave him in there alone! He’s already been that for 70 years! We should end that isolation as soon as possible! He needs someone there with him!” Steve argued, positioning himself to face his friend, eyes fiery with stubbornness.

“Natasha, I did agree with you. But..I do think it’s time. If..my friend escaped some forsaken hellhole I would..I would spend every moment with him so he knows that he’s okay. You know?” Sam said suddenly, appearing to have given a lot of thought into it.

There was silence for a long period of time.

“Go,” Natasha said finally, so undramatic that Steve didn’t believe her for a second. He gave her a look, as if to confirm that what she said was true and that he could finally see Bucky. Natasha sighed, nodding, “But I’m warning you..he might..be different. He could remember you, and everything, but..be prepared, okay, Steve?” She squeezed his hand gently, looking him in the eye.

Steve swallowed nervously, and nodded, getting to his feet and walking slowly towards the door. He breathed heavily for a while, hand resting on the door knob, terrified out of his mind. He wasn’t scared of Bucky; never was. He was scared of what they did to him, he was scared of seeing the damage.

He turned back to face Natasha and Sam, and looked at them nervously. Sam smiled softly at him, “Go get him, Captain.”

Steve nodded slowly, and braced himself for what was to come.

“So…if you did this part and I did this..” Steve said, eyeing the piece of assignment carefully. He drew some diagram on another sheet of paper to illustrate their pieces of work for their English project.

“..snnfff..Yeah,” Bucky replied absentmindedly, his sheet of brainstorming slowly but surely evolving into a mess of words and lines.

Sarah Rogers came in, a tray of milk and cookies in her hands. “How’re my boys?” She cooed cheerfully, setting the tray on a table. Steve groaned,

“Mooooom, we’re 18.”

Sarah laughed, “Well, you both certainly act like you’re 10 years younger!”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that, however the laugh turning into a husky, soft cough. Sarah’s eyes widened a little, “Oh, Bucky, have you caught yourself a cold?” Steve tensed suddenly, feeling a little protective of Bucky immediately.

Bucky shook his head, “No, just a little dehydrated, I thin..thihhh…” Bucky turned away from the two Rogers and pressed his thumb and pointer finger against nostrils, sneezing.

“Bless you!”

Sarah gave him a sympathetic smile, “Oh, Bucky…You’re looking paler too. D'you need a blanket?”

Steve rested his hand on the taller man’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t even notice that you were feeling sick!”

Bucky shook his head, “I’m fine, honestly–”

He sneezed a sneeze so stifled it was hilarious.

Steve wanted to laugh at that sneeze but held it in, smile fading away as he saw his best friend shaking, “Awh, Buck, you’re shaking!”

Sarah kneeled down to the two boys who were sprawled across the carpet and felt Bucky’s forehead, which was a challenge for her when the Barnes boy kept flinching away from her. “This doesn’t seem good at all, James, d'you want to-” she stopped talking as she saw his face scrunch up, retreating to pinch his nose, and release another stifled sneeze.

“You want to stay the night?” Sarah continued, “also, don’t hold them in like that, it’s not good for you.” Bucky shook his head, “Sarah..I appreciate the thought and all, but..if I stay..I’ll be a burden to you and Steve and I risk getting one of you sick..”

“Nonsense! Once your aunt sees you she’ll be sending you back to me to get you all patched up, and don’t you dare mention this to her, but she’s no good at looking after you,” Sarah said firmly, but softly as well.

Bucky’s nostrils twitched and he cupped his nose and mouth with his hands and inhaled sharply, sneezing to the side twice. He groaned softly and sniffled, “Excuse me, f-fine..but..I-I’m not getting Steve sick-I..won’t be able to deal with that-”

Steve slapped his thigh playfully, “Woah! Bless you! That was quite some sneeze. Also, you think you can be sick without me taking care of you?”

“Steve–you don’t have to, honestly–” He was cut off by yet another loud and forceful sneeze.

“Bless you–and I will.”

Sarah helped Bucky stand up, “I’m sorry James, but it appears I can’t do anything to pry Steven away from you, such a pest, Isn’t he?” She said playfully, ruffling both her son’s and his best friend’s hair, “but I’ll be sure to give him an extra dose of vitamin c, so don’t you be worrying.” Bucky turned his head away from her and ducked his nose into his shirt,

“HehhSHiew! HhrSHiew!..ugh. Thank you..you..don’t have to be doing this.”

“They come in twos!”

“ Shut up–Steeeh–” He was cut off yet again by three progressive sneezes, deeply irritated by the continuous tickle in his nose.

“See! Bless you–besides, Ma’s a nurse, Buck, and you’re my friend.”

Bucky sneezed ticklishly, and rubbed at his red nose irritably. He nodded, “Yeah, okay. I know. Sorry. I just, didn’t want to be a burden.” Bucky’s nose twitched and he inhaled sharply, snapping forward into his hands and sneezed. The force bent him over at the waist.

“Bless you!” Steve chirped.

“Not a burden! Ever!” Sarah replied firmly, but a caring tone evident in her tone. She placed a hand on his back, trying to support him as he bent over. He shyly straightened back up, finger rubbing against his raw nostrils. Sarah frowned at the sight of his unhealthy shape.

“Besides, you are the oldest and don’t really get taken care of at home, so might as well try out the whole being taken care of thing. You’re always welcome to the Rogers clan.” Sarah continued, watching as Bucky inhaled for another sneeze but failed in succeeding.

“Part of the family Buck, y'now that right?” Steve chipped in, smiling goofily, far too happy about his illness than he was supposed to. His smile faded a little when Bucky didn’t answer, he hoped that it was just a result of coaxing out a sneeze. “You…know that, right?” He said, softer.

Bucky sneezed three harsh, ticklish sneezes, “nn..Yeah, I dow that. Yeah, us.” Bucky said sleepily, letting himself become sandwiched between the two people who had slotted themselves into his family.

“That’s good. Really good Buck, now cmon, you need to rest.”

Bucky had always looked so beautiful when he was asleep.

Even now, his eyelashes rested perfectly on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed only slightly and his mouth the slightest bit open, his lips pink and soft. He looked at peace; and Steve wished to pretend that he was at peace even though deep within he knew Bucky was at war with himself.

He knew that HYDRA was horrible to him, if they hurt him enough to damage him mentally many many years ago when the 107th was captured, 70 years with them surely must have felt like hell was a better option. So he let him sleep; because he knew Bucky wouldn’t have gotten much of that in the past.

He pulled a chair and sat next to him, unable to stop himself from resting his hand on Bucky’s own, lightly stroking the soft pale skin and the making his touches even softer if that was possible on his cuts and bruises. Touching Bucky made him want to cry, as he suddenly realised that Bucky was real, he wasn’t well but he was alive.

Suddenly Bucky’s breath started to quicken and his chest heaved, and he suddenly shot up, turning against Steve and releasing a stifled sneeze.

“Bucky?”

Bucky turned to face him, and he looked like he was taken aback, his blue eyes sparkling with nostalgia, “Steve?”

Steve let out a strangled sob and couldn’t help but throw himself on the man, hugging him tight, embracing all that he was and all that he wasn’t, letting himself feel the warmth that he didn’t know he was missing. He held Bucky, his Bucky, and when he felt Bucky flinch he immediately pulled away,

“Oh shit, I’m sorry–Bucky I-”

Bucky didn’t say anymore and pulled Steve back to him, letting himself become small and cling on to Steve for dear life, sobbing hard, “I remember you Steve, your mom’s name was Sarah and you used to put newspapers in your shoes. Steve, they hurt me.. They turned me into a monster..I thought you left me…but..” Bucky sobbed even harder, “..you came back.”

Steve sobbed softly, and pushed the hair out of Bucky’s eyes, “Buck, save your voice. Youre really ill and you need to rest.” He felt his forehead, “this doesn’t look good. Come now..lay down your head..” Bucky still was burying his head in Steve’s chest and suddenly felt his breath hitch and nose tickle like hell and he didn’t have time to pull away before the eventual release, “ He sneezed quietly,  spraying Steve’s chest lightly.

“Oh god–I’m sorry-” Bucky panicked, having learned how to stifle and turn away from his captors due to their disgust. Steve shushed him, running a hand through his hair, “Bless you, it’s okay..it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Steve stood to get some tissues, when Bucky tugged at his arm, the tears welling back in his eyes, “Please don’t leave me.”

The desperation in Bucky’s eyes broke Steve’s heart, and he quickly tugged the box of tissues towards the bed. “I’m not leaving you,” Steve said firmly, “never again,” he said, softer.

Bucky would’ve replied but his nose started to twitch with the terrible tickle in his nose, he turned his head away from Steve and sneezed. Bucky groaned and his throat hurt from all the stifles. A little layer of wetness lay below his nostrils and Steve wiped it away slowly, “Bless. That hurt, didn’t it? Stop stifling like that, okay?”

Bucky sniffled slowly, regretting it immediately when he turned his head away from Steve again and let his nostrils twitch, breath hitching, the tickle teasing his brains out, until his nostrils started flaring and finally, the tickle became enough to let him sneeze, and when he knew he was definitely going to sneeze, he took a sharp breath and sneezed.

“Bless you,” Steve said, and quickly brought the tissue back to Bucky’s nose

Bucky sniffled miserably. “Blow,” Steve said softly, and added pressure to one nostril at a time as Bucky blew forcefully. “I’m gonna get you sick,” Bucky said miserably.

“I don’t get sick anymore,” Steve smiled softly, and pressed ruffled Bucky’s messy hair. Bucky’s nose had taken a pink form, and he leaned in to kiss the very tip, “You’ve always been so cute when you sneeze.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky said good naturedly, and his nose twitched with the light touch and he sneezed again. He moaned, “I haven’t been able to let them out like that in so long.”

“Wait, what?”

“…They didn’t let me sneeze properly. They forced me to be as quiet as possible so I didn’t blow my cover but they were really just too disgusted.”

“Oh Buck..”

Not long after that Bucky fell into a fit of coughing, unable to stop, until Steve practically jumped onto the bed and patted him firmly against his shoulder blades, continuing to rub little circles onto his back once the coughing subsided.

Bucky groaned, raising his hand to temple then pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to overcome a headache. Steve pushed him down to the bed gently, fluffing out the pillow his head was on and pulled the blankets over him, frowning when Bucky was still shaking.

“Steve,” Bucky croaked weakly.

“Mmm?”

“What did..what did you say my name was again?” Bucky looked genuinely heart broken, frustrated that this stupid fever was making him forget his hard efforts of remembering his memories again. He looked guilty, as if he was doing something wrong.

Steve smiled softly at him and rested his hand on top of his best friend’s one, stroking the tender skin slowly. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you’re my best friend.”

Bucky closed his eyes and smiled, genuinely smiled and he was so beautiful that it overwhelmed Steve. He hadn’t seen that wonderful smile in so long and he had forgotten the beauty of it and something within him seemed to be fuller.

“Yeah, that’s it, I remember now.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for some time and Steve thought Bucky was asleep when Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open and he started to talk again,

“Can..can you..-” Bucky stopped, blushing, and shook his head, “never mind.”

Steve widened his eyes, “Nononono, what do you need? It’s okay, you can ask for what you want.”

Bucky shut his eyes tight, blushing, “can you..lie down with me? I mean..presuming I can’t infect you–”

It was a matter of seconds before Steve climbed onto the bed and was lying down with Bucky, wanting to wrap himself around him but forcing himself not to, only looking him in the eye softly. They lay down together, looking each other in the eye, fingertips brushing only slightly for a really long time.

Bucky’s eyes were the same as they were years ago, but at the same time they weren’t. They were the same shape, the same long eyelashes and the same beautiful shade of blue. But his eyes weren’t shining as bright as they used to. They didn’t sparkle with energy and youth. He was drained. He was so tired. It would take so long to get what was left of Bucky Barnes back. There was a huge portion Steve could never get back. He was Bucky Barnes of the past but he was also a completely different person, but Steve could still love him endlessly.

“..I remember something else,” Bucky said quietly.

“Huh? Like what?”

“That I loved you.”

Bucky said this the way someone would say “it’s warm” or “how are you”. He says this like its the most normal and casual thing in the world. He says this like its the norm, like he’s always been this way, and in a way it was true. Steve didn’t know what to say.

“I remember that I loved you more than anything in the world. I saw something in you that no one else did. You were my stars and my sun and my light and all things wonderful,” Bucky said absentmindedly, dreamily, even, eyes gazing some place else and his voice leaked with nostalgia. He paused for a couple of moments to smile and think about it, and then continued, “but then one day, the world saw what I saw in you. The world started to love you and it hurt because I loved you first. You found someone who deserved you and I tried to fall out of love but to be honest with you..falling out of train was easier.”

Steve’s mouth parted slightly, finding it hard to take it all in, and he brushed his fingers against Bucky’s in the hope that maybe they had a chance at starting over.

“..Do you..think you.. still love me?”

“I never stopped.”

Steve pressed in and kissed him softly, nothing too fast and too firm, something simple and sweet, making nice little noises as they kissed. He feared that he was going too fast, but Bucky wanted it all, and he felt so warm and good. He tasted like birthday cake and snowflakes. 70 years was worth the wait.

Steve grinned and touched his forehead with Bucky’s, unable to control himself from being the inner sap that he was, “You and me?”

Bucky sniffled, and grinned back lightly, “You’re a punk.”

“Jerk.”

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #sarah rogers #stucky sickfic #sickfic #fever #sneezing #recovering bucky barnes #post tws fic #james buchanan barnes #pre serum stucky #uhh i may have edited out the cringe snz spellings loll

[aliveprofessor]

Rocket Man

the fic has nothing to do with the title lmao

description: Ned has a secret.

tw: rape/harassment implied, a Lot of transphobia (this is a total vent fic ok)

under the cut!

Ned woke up to his phone’s alarm. He hopped in the shower, the pervasive loneliness of his half-full bed leaving him in the steam-filled three quarters bathroom. His house was decorated like a married man’s, like in another universe he’d have a wife and a dog and a baby on the way.

As it stood, he’d completed one of those goals - his dog, Bean, was whining to go outside by now, and Ned tripped over his own feet with a towel wrapped around his waist to let him outside. Even as he looked in the mirror, he appreciated so very greatly the recovering scars under his pectorals, stretching from his nipple to the armpit. Top surgery had been a bitch to recover from, but Ned supposed it was healthier than wearing a binder to work every day.

He still had problems with his feminine face. His nose was too small, eyelashes and lips too full. Ned looked down at his hips, hidden by the towel that was still on his waist.

His alarm buzzed for the second time that day, the music Ned had put on pausing to let the alarm sing out.

T day!!

It was then that Ned realized that he’d have to go out later with the other Try Guys. It was a Friday, after all, and Fridays were reserved for going out and getting absolutely hammered. Even if Ned did act like a dad the whole time.

He quirked a smile at himself in the mirror. Even if he hated some of his features, he knew he could push through it. Even if he was lonely, even if he was insecure…

Ned shook off the negative emotions. He’d have to get his shot done before work, so he could go out with the guys later. Maybe it was foolish to be in the closet to your closest friends - especially when one was queer himself.

But there was a thought caught at the back of Ned’s brain, like a fly caught on a flycatcher. The fear of being ostracized, like he had been, caused him to shake as he gathered the supplies - a sharps container, a syringe, two needles, the vial.

He calmed down, unwrapped the bigger needle, and cleaned off the vial. Taking some testosterone out of the vial at the right dose, he looked into the mirror and caught sight of his own terrified eyes. The thought of being called Caelyn again, the thought of being screamed at - he should’ve known it was a gamble to come out to his Catholic parents - the thought of trying to pray his sickness away.

Of course, now that he didn’t necessarily have to be out, Ned absolutely refused to come out. He looked back down to his hand to see the smaller needle completely submerged in his stomach fat, his hands going through the motions without him really deciding to do so.

And Ned entertained the idea of telling the Guys. He really did. He even thought of a perfect, beautifully quippy one-liner; “I chose Ned because it rhymes with ‘red’.”

And then he was done with the shot. The feeling of his skin sliding off the needle - still the most jarring sensation of the whole process - brought him back to reality. He was Ned Fulmer, living his full-time lie. Bean was the only one who knew it.

Of course, Bean couldn’t beat him up. Bean couldn’t tell him he was going to Hell. Bean couldn’t find a new, hungry look in his eyes that left Ned feeling hollow inside. God, thinking back on his past made him shiver. He wasn’t even cold.

He pulled on his polo shirt and khakis. They hid his form, made him look like a box. He liked it - his clothes felt like a safety blanket.

Ned let Bean back in, gave him some food for the day, resolved to order junk food for breakfast, and hopped into his car.

He walked into the office not feeling up to conversation. That’s when he saw her.

An intern. One that had gone to Ned’s highschool. And, God, she looked like -

Tracy Lineman. With the blonde curls and everything.

Ned felt his earlier panic spiral out of control. Tracy had been one of the ones to take pity on Ned. She never did use his chosen name or pronouns, though.

It felt like a nightmare. She probably recognized his last name - probably recognized his green eyes. His hands shook.

“Tracy?” He asked. She looked up. He pulled her into a spare meeting room.

Ned took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s… it’s Caelyn. I still go by Ned, I still use he-him pronouns. I would appreciate it deeply if you didn’t out me to my coworkers. I knew you’d figure it out at some point or another -”

“Oh!” Tracy blinked, “Oh, I - of course!”

There was something about her that made her seem already guilty of something. Ned decided to let it go, nodding to her and leaving the meeting room.

He made it back to his desk, by the other three. They were already at work - McDonald’s had been a bit backed up, so it’d taken longer than normal - and they looked at Ned curiously.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Zach said flippantly. Ned blanched.

“Oh - oh, yeah,” He stumbled over his words, “Caelyn.”

Eugene spoke up, seeming almost annoyed. “You never told us about her. What did you think would happen?”

“She died,” Ned blurted, “She died four years ago, right before I went to college. I don’t like talking about it.”

Now Eugene blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry for pressing, dude.”

“It’s okay,” Ned sighed, “I knew I’d have to tell you guys at some point or another.”

Ned felt those words bitter in his mouth, rotting through his tongue. He was weaving himself deeper and deeper into this lie.

Panic rose in his chest again, choking out his voice, when Tracy came back. She looked far more antagonistic now - Ned hoped she’d gotten less mean. When one is all alone, they’ll take the company they can manage to scrounge for. And Tracy… Tracy was pretty bad.

And now, there was that look in her eyes. That power-hungry look that Ned knew meant she knew she had some serious blackmail on him.

“Hey, Ned,” She said, “Can you do me a favor and grab me a cup of coffee?”

Ned declined. “Sorry, I’m busy right now.”

“A favor for the old friend of a sibling?” She mirrored his exact body language and tone. The other Guys watched the exchange with interest. There was a fire behind Tracy’s eyes, and Ned found himself getting up and carrying her mug to the kitchen.

Ned realized the best case scenario was that the guys thought he had the hots for Tracy. Ned just knew that Tracy wasn’t the worst evil he could face - but she could still put him in an unbelievable amount of danger. It was so much harder to meet people now that he was out of school. He couldn’t lose the Guys.

Ned resolved to come out to them that night. It was the hardest decision he’d ever made - but he couldn’t bear to be Tracy’s blackmailee forever.

God, Ned didn’t even want to be a blackmailee at all. Yet, here he was.

He gave Tracy her coffee, sitting back at his desk. He pulled up his project and started  to work on it. He did have to suffer near-constant interruptions via Tracy, which was… painful.

Ned was ready to rip out his own eyeballs by the end of the day, but then - then, he was going out with the Guys. Unfortunately, either Tracy had decided to stay late, or one of the Guys had invited her along.

“You don’t mind if Tracy tags along, do you?” Eugene asked, but not in a way that was asking permission. When Eugene asked something, there was a good chance he was already planning on doing it. Or already doing it.

Ned smiled thinly and said, “Of course not!”

“Hey, Ned,” Tracy started, “Could you carry my things for me?”

Ned was absolutely exhausted. He just simply could not carry anything for Tracy, even if he wanted to. “No.”

“But… Ned.” There was that old, dangerous undertone to her voice that Ned was far too familiar with was back. None of the other guys seemed to notice.

“I said ‘No.’” Ned flatly declined the offer, consequences be damned. He could not physically muster the ability to care. After doing several coffee and copier runs, a lunch run, and giving Tracy lots of completely unnecessary advice, Ned had felt like the intern all day. And now - he was done.

“Caelyn,” Tracy said, and Ned realized just what he’d done, “Have you told your friends how you’ve been lying to them?”

The other three stopped dead in their tracks, confusion written over their faces. Ned flinched a bit.

“Tracy -” Ned felt like a mask had been ripped off his face, and he was standing there in a bra and panties, like he had been during that first year of college.

“Ned - what’s going on?” Keith glanced between the two of them, feeling the tension fly off Ned’s body like static. Tracy remained cool, a skill Ned had seen too often.

“Caelyn has been lying to you about herself,” Tracy smirked, Ned looking and feeling like he was about to cry.

And then he was. Tears leaked down his face, and he was glad they were in the parking lot so he could turn and walk away as fast as possible, breaking into a run when Eugene tried to follow him.

That’s where his temper always landed him - deep in trouble. Ned hated his short fuse as much as he could between spikes of panic and trying to remember how to breathe, taking refuge behind a dumpster and crying out to nobody in particular.

His phone vibrated endlessly in his pocket. Ned prayed for God to send a lightning bolt down and kill him right then.

To his absolute despair, he heard quick footsteps echo on the brick. Eugene was scarily good at finding things - finding people. He knocked on the side of the dumpster.

“Is it okay if I come around the corner, Ned?”

Ned let out a strangled noise he hoped sounded like assent, and Eugene crouched down in front of him. Eugene brushed a lock of hair out of Ned’s face, a strangely tender gesture for what Ned was about to tell him.

“I’m trans,” He whispered, marvelling at the ease with which the words flew from his mouth. Eugene crossed his legs on the ground, peering into Ned’s soul through his eyes.

“Pronouns?”

That was the last thing Ned had expected out of Eugene’s mouth - well, he supposed growing up in rural Florida had left him with some low standards, but still.

“He - he/him,” Ned breathed, still trying to catch his breath. Eugene nodded, taking Ned’s hand in his.

Here it comes, Ned thought. The ‘we can fix this’, the ‘I’m so sorry you’re like this’.

But Eugene said neither of those. “Breathe with me.” He placed Ned’s hand on his chest, taking a deep breath. Ned took deep breaths with Eugene, feeling himself come down from the tallest mountain of panic he’d ever encountered.

“I’m sorry -” Ned started, interrupted by Eugene.

“Don’t apologize,” He smiled softly, “You’re still Ned. You’re still our best friend, you’re still a man.”

Ned absolutely beamed through his tears. Eugene pulled him closer, giving him the most comforting hug he’d ever received. And from Eugene.

“You’re not mad?”

Eugene paused. “Oh, Ned.” His voice was dripping with pity. But not the kind Ned was used to. “How could I be mad? You did something really brave today.”

“No I didn’t,” Ned sniffled, “I ran away.”

“You stood up to Tracy,” Eugene grinned. “How about tonight, instead of going out, I’ll convince the Guys to join us for pizza at my place, and you can explain everything? I’m here to help you through anything, y’know.”

Ned nodded. “Thank you. That sounds nice.”

And Ned wished he had the strength left to tell Eugene just how much he meant to him. He’d tell him on the way back.

He felt as though a new world had been opened up to him, like shackles had been taken off of his ankles. He felt truly free for the first time since he was a little kid, running free in the creek with his best friend, pretending to be spies.

#mod #txt #fic #tg #i'm afraid to put it in any tags bc buzz//feed is a bunch of bitchass people who are hip with the kids and read fics #rip me #please reblog

[fraggle-batches]

Because these are fun

1:Full name: Not comfortable sharing that

2:Zodiac sign: Libra 

3:3 fears: ladders, loneliness

4:3 things I love: my cats and boyfriend and laptop and dogs

5:4 turn on’s: tattoos, good hair, smoking, choking, hickeys

6:4 turn off’s: trump supporters

7:My best friend: my boyfriend

8:Sexual orientation: pansexual

9:My best first date: went to a concert (styg, stray from the path, knocked loose), was soo much fun, and also my first concert with a s/o

10:How tall am I: 5′7

11:What do I miss: my nana, being confident in myself and those around me

12:What time was I born? like 5:30 am 

13:Favorite color? grey

14:Do I have a crush? on my boyfriend, and cole sprouse

15:Favorite quote? “

16:Favorite place? Algonquin park

17:Favorite food? Pizza

18:Do I use sarcasm? Never

19:What am I listening to right now? Flaked Season 2 on Netflix

20:First thing I notice in new person? Shoes, hair, actions

21:Shoe size? Women’s 9.5, Mens 8.5

22:Eye color? Shit brown :))

23:Hair color? Naturally: Brown, Currently: Blonde, Previously: Pink

24: Favorite style of clothing? Uhm idk like casual/skate/dude clothes

25:Ever done a prank call? When I was like 11, but i grew tf up

26:What color of underwear I’m wearing now? I’m not..

27:Meaning behind my URL? Lord of the Rings (on a comedy video)

28:Favorite movie? ^

29:Favorite song? 

30:Favorite band? Don’t know, either The Wonder Years, Pink Floyd, The Tragically Hip

31:How I feel right now? Kinda shitty

32:Someone I love. Aaron

33:My current relationship status. In a relationship, one year at the end of the month.

34:My relationship with my parents. Was pretty fucked up for a while, I got kicked out and shit but now we’re civil and they buy me stuff to suck up for the shit they put me through/

35:Favorite holiday. 

36:Tattoos and piercing I have. I have my nose pierced, three 18g holes p/ear and one 10mm hole p ear.

37:Tattoos and piercing I want. I want to get a second nose piercing, maybe a septum, and my 10mm holes are going up to 22mm as we speak, I also intend to get an assload of tattoos when I’m no longer broke.

38:The reason I joined Tumblr. Joined it when I was like 12.. so I don’t know, just because it was ANOTHER form of social media for me to have.

39:Do I and my last ex hate each other? I hate him because he’s a rapist piece of shit and I’m sure he doesn’t even think of me so.

40:Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night” texts? No.

41:Have I ever kissed the last person I texted? Idek who the last person I texted was.

42:When did I last hold hands? Last night

43:How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? Depends what my hairs like, if it’s good, then 15 mins, if it’s shit then 35mins.

44:Have I shaved my legs in the past three days? Yeah

45: Where am I right now? On the couch at my boyfriends grandparents.

46:If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? Maybe my boyfriend, maybe a nurse 

47:Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? LOUD

48:Do I live with my Mom and Dad? No

49:Am I excited for anything? I’m going to see Roger Waters in October and I’m moving in 1-3 months.

50:Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? My boyfriend.

51:How often do I wear a fake smile? Often.

52:When was the last time I hugged someone? Earlier today I think

53:What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? I’d fucking leave him and move alone and go back to fucking instead of dating (other people obv)

54:Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? Maybe

55:What is something I disliked about today? Got into a couple pissing matches with the boy.

56:If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Gord Downie

57:What do I think about most? The amount of debt I’m in

58:What’s my strangest talent? Licking my nose maybe?

59:Do I have any strange phobias? I don’t know..

60:Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind all the way

61:What was the last lie I told? “I don’t want anything to eat rn”

62:Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? NEITHER

63:Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Ghosts: no. Spirits: Yes. Aliens: no, Extra-terrestrial life on another planet potentially in a different solar system: Yes.

64:Do I believe in magic? No

65:Do I believe in luck? I don’t know

66:What’s the weather like right now? Shitty, cloudy, cold, and dark

67:What was the last book I’ve read? The Handbook of Human Sexuality

68:Do I like the smell of gasoline? Uhh yeah

69:Do I have any nicknames? -----

70:What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? Probably when I fractured my skull as a kid. Or the two times I broke my clavicle in the SAME spot like 3 years apart lmao.

71:Do I spend money or save it? I’m a compulsive spender

72:Can I touch my nose with a tongue? Yep

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? I don’t think so

74:Favorite animal? Elephant maybe

75:What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Same thing as I’m doing now basically... fuck all

76:What do I think Satan’s last name is? He doesn’t have one/exist

77:What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? I believe by Stevie Wonder

78:How can you win my heart? Be a decent person and show the fucking world that I’m yours and you’re mine.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? “fuck all you cunts from my hometown”

80:What is my favorite word? cunt

81:My top 5 blogs on tumblr? nah

82:If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? “stop polluting, kill trump, learn how to give a girl good head, end world hunger, adopt dont shop, support everyone regardless, cherish each other”

83:Do I have any relatives in jail? I don’t think so, but maybe

84:I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? To be able to like pause life and be the only one who isn’t paused but I don’t age on pause so it’s chill. Or to turn off my bad emotions whenever I want

85:What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? I don’t know, I;m pretty open

86:What is my current desktop picture? My dog 

87:Had sex? Daily

88:Bought condoms? Hate them, but yeah

89:Gotten pregnant? No

90:Failed a class? Yeah

91:Kissed a boy? Yeah

92:Kissed a girl? Yeah

93:Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Yeah

94:Had job? Yeah

95:Left the house without my wallet? The worst!!

96:Bullied someone on the Internet? No... well maybe this one stupid piece of shit that raped my friend, posted her nude pics on a porn website and harasses her to this day. But I think that’s with warrant to bully so idc

97:Had sex in public? In a few places...

98:Played on a sports team? Other than school, no

99:Smoked weed? Daily

100:Did drugs? some

101:Smoked cigarettes? Yep

102:Drank alcohol? Yep

103:Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Used to be 

104:Been overweight? Currently am

105:Been underweight? Yep

106:Been to a wedding? Yep

107:Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Most of the time

108:Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yep

109:Been outside my home country? Yep

110:Gotten my heart broken? Sort of

111:Been to a professional sports game? No

112:Broken a bone? Skull, elbow, clavicle x 2, wrist x3, most of my toes, both my thumbs, my left ring finger, my ankle, and foot.

113:Cut myself? Used to

114:Been to prom? Fuck prom

115:Been in airplane? Yep

 116: Fly by helicopter? No

117:What concerts have I been to? To name a few (not even close to 1/4 of them: The wonder Years x4, Moose Blood x2, Neck Deep, Real Friends x3, Modern Baseball x3, Knocked Loose, Stick to Your Guns, etc...

118:Had a crush on someone of the same sex? Yep

119:Learned another language? Started to learn german, dropped it. Spoke some french but I’m rusty.

120:Wore make up? Most days

121:Lost my virginity before I was 18? Way before I was 18

122:Had oral sex? Yeah

123:Dyed my hair? Every few months for the last like 4-5 years

124:Voted in a presidential election? Not yet.. 2019 here I come

125:Rode in an ambulance? No

126:Had a surgery? Small one

127:Met someone famous? A few people.. Dan Campbell from the Wonder Years being one of them

128:Stalked someone on a social network? In an innocent-ish “what the fuck is my boyfriend doing liking your slutty pics” stalking

129:Peed outside? Yep

130:Been fishing? Yep

131:Helped with charity? Yep

132:Been rejected by a crush? No

133:Broken a mirror? Yep

134:What do I want for birthday? A camera

135:How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 2-3. Nora, Avalyn, and idk maybe Declan, Jax, Quinn?

136:Was I named after anyone? No

137:Do I like my handwriting? Sometimes

138:What was my favorite toy as a child? Pogs, Pokemon Cards, Idk I mostly read books

139:Favorite TV Show? Shameless is lit

140:Where do I want to live when older? I don;t know yet, used to be Alaska but the US is fucked rn

141:Play any musical instrument? A little piano, tried guitar

142:One of my scars, how did I get it? one on my hand is shaped like a dick.. i stuck my hand in a fire to get a cigarette that dropped when i was drunk and burned the fuck outta my hand, when it scarred the center got prominent, and dick shaped

143:Favorite pizza topping? Bacon

144:Am I afraid of the dark? No

145:Am I afraid of heights? A little

146:Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yeah, I’ve been caught sneaking out and smoking pot and getting drunk when I was supposedly studying or having a quiet movie night in

147:Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? All the time

148:What I’m really bad at. Life, keeping my temper in check

149:What my greatest achievements are. I graduated high school, and got into college and university

150:The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me. “fat homewrecking bitch”.. but it wasn’t the truth

151:What I’d do if I won in a lottery. Pay off my debt and adopt a load of animals in need

152:What do I like about myself? I got some nice eyelashes, and a nice rack

153:My closest Tumblr friend. ------

154:Something I fantasies about. Cole Sprouse 

155:Any question you’d like -------

[keichanz]

Family

@inukag-week Day Four: Family 

I know I’m a lameass by titling these things after the prompt word but I’m too lazy to think of anything else lmao

Hands tucked into his sleeves and releasing a wide yawn as he casually strolled into the kitchen, Inuyasha was greeted with the sight of Kagome’s mom humming a jovial little tune while she stirred a pot at the stove a green herb. A discreet sniff told him it was rosemary. He watched curiously as she spooned up a small amount and took a delicate sip, frowning in contemplation, and then finally seemed to notice him hovering nearby and watching.

Her expression lit up and she smiled at him. “Oh, Inuyasha, perfect timing,” she said and gestured him over. Cocking his head, Inuyasha approached as she spooned up a bit more. “Would you be a dear and taste this for me? I can’t quite put my finger on what it needs so maybe you can help me.” She lifted it up and held a hand beneath to catch any stray drops and with a mental shrug, Inuyasha obediently leaned in and slurped up what was offered to him.

 Licking his lips, he deliberated and then eyed the various spices and herbs laid out on the counter, leaning in to differentiate their scents. “That, and…that,” he said, and pointed to two of them.

 Completely trusting his judgment, Mama nodded, grabbed them both, and smiled when she read their labels. “Basil and thyme. Perfect. Thank you, dear. I appreciate it, and your nose,” she said with a soft laugh as she sprinkled a little of both into the pot and stirred them in.

 Inuyasha shrugged and a soft blush tinted his cheeks. “S’nothing. I don’t mind.” Secretly pleased, however, he took another sniff of the concoction and fought a smug grin. It smelled delicious.

 “Are you hungry, dear?” Mama asked lightly, not failing to miss him sniffing tonight’s dinner. “I can whip you up a cup of ramen if you’d like. Dinner won’t be for a while yet.” Already she was putting the kettle on to boil and retrieving the Styrofoam cup of noodles from the cupboard.

 Visibly perking, Inuyasha nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.” He was content to loiter around in the kitchen while she prepared his snack and after a few companionable minutes of silence, he asked, “Where’s Kagome?”

 “She’s out with some friends studying for one of her exams,” she supplied, popping open the oven door a crack to check on the loaf of bread inside. “It’ll be another few hours before she’s home, I’m afraid.” She bustled over to the fridge and retrieved a water bottle for him, setting it on the table. “Will you be staying for dinner, dear?”

 Inuyasha’s ear flicked behind him as the sound of footstep running down the stairs registered. “I guess.” Bending his knees slightly, bracing his legs and tensing his muscles in preparation for impact, Inuyasha gave a soft grunt when a small body suddenly jumped onto his back and short arms clung to his shoulders.

 “Inuyasha, you’re here!” Souta cried happily, grinning from ear to ear.

 “Keh. Hey, squirt,” he greeted Kagome’s little brother and stood to his full height again, confident in the kid’s ability to hang from his shoulders without falling. It was not the first time Souta had greeted him this way, and he doubted it would be the last. Not that he minded, though.

 “How long are you staying?! Did you kill any demons today?! Can you show me your sword?! Can we play some soccer later?! Please?! I wanna show you some cool new moves I learned!” Excited at the prospect of playing his favorite game with his hero, Souta fired off question after question and his mother chuckled softly in amusement as she set a steaming cup of noodles on the table with some chopsticks.

 Inuyasha glanced at him over his shoulder. “I dunno…” he hedged, then cast a sidelong glance at Mama in silent inquiry; he knew how this worked.

 Mama smiled. “Finish all of your homework, dear, then you can play with Inuyasha. Studies come first, you know that.” She wiped her hands on her apron and slipped on an oven mitt before taking the bread out of the oven.

 Souta pouted. “But Mamaaaaaa,” he whined.

 Inuyasha grinned. “Keh. You heard her, runt,” he said and reached up, curling his fingers carefully around the kid’s wrist then swiftly pulling him off his back and easily holding him aloft in front of him by his thin wrist. Souta giggled and wriggled around; for reasons unknown to the half-demon, the kid loved it when he did this. “Get your studies done, then I promise I’ll kick that ball of yours around with ya before me an’ Kagome leave. Deal?”

 Souta instantly brightened and nodded vigorously, beaming up at him. “Alright! Deal!” Inuyasha set the boy back on his feet and he took off, running up the stairs faster than a blink and shouting over his shoulder, “Thanks, Inuyasha!”

 “Don’t mention it, squirt,” he called back, shaking his head in amusement before sitting down at the table and finally slurping up his noodles. They were the perfect temperature now since they’d been sitting for a bit cooling off and he didn’t burn his tongue. Life was good.

 Just as he was tipping back the last of it into his mouth, Gramps trundled in, spotted the half-demon licking his lips appreciatively, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Demon!” he screeched, hastily searching his robes for his sutras, then belatedly remembered his granddaughter had hidden them so he couldn’t throw them at the demon sitting at his kitchen table anymore. He grumbled in annoyance.

 Inuyasha rolled his eyes and unscrewed the cap to the bottle of water. “Always a pleasure, old man,” he drawled and downed half the bottle with several gulps, sighing in satisfaction as he lowered it from his lips. Sometimes cold, fresh water tasted so great and he had no idea why. It was weird.

 Glaring at the hanyou, to which said hanyou ignored, Gramps shuffled further in and claimed his usual seat at the table just as Inuyasha vacated his and gave a long, languorous stretch. “Boy,” he old man suddenly snapped and golden eyes peered over at him with an air of disinterest. Gramps crossed his arms and eyed the red-clad half-demon.

 Inuyasha snorted and crossed his arms, staring back and cocking a brow. He was used to this song and dance now; it happened almost every single time he crossed to this side of the well and the codger’s attempts at intimidating him still were ineffective. He had to give the old man credit, though; he was stubborn as an ox and Inuyasha knew he was only looking out after his only granddaughter, which he understood and thought it admirable.

 That was one thing they could relate on, Inuyasha surmised; they both cared for Kagome’s welfare, and the elderly man also knew this, which was why, Inuyasha suspected, most of his attempts to “exorcise” him ended in failure. It was an awkward truce of sorts, a silent agreement between men that Inuyasha took very seriously and he showed it by bringing Kagome home time and again unscathed and relatively happy.

 …Most of time. When they weren’t fighting, anyway.

 Gramps saw and recognized this, and in return, he gave the boy from the past his unquestioning trust in keeping his precious granddaughter safe with only minimal complaining – mostly about dog-eared demon’s eating them out of house and home – and always made sure to have an excuse for her school ready whenever she left for the past.

 Inuyasha had to admit, it was a better outcome than he could have ever imagined and swore to always uphold his end of their agreement. He’d protect Kagome with his life, and made sure the old man knew that.

 Gramps narrowed his eyes at him and still said nothing. Inuyasha’s face turned serious and shifted to face him fully, staring directly into Kagome’s grandpa’s eyes and nodding once. Grandpa Higurashi studied him silently for another minute, gave a minuscule nod back, and then grunted, dismissing the youngster with a wave of his hand before picking up the mail and leaving through it.

 Relaxing his shoulders, Inuyasha’s mouth kicked up into a tiny half-grin but he turned before anyone could see it and walked out of the kitchen, deciding a nap in the Goshinboku sounded like a good idea while he waited for Kagome to get back.

 -X-

 Hours later, after Kagome had returned, dinner had been eaten and the obligatory game of soccer with the kid had been played, Inuyasha and Kagome sat in the living room in the dark, the decision to leave for the Feudal Era in the morning determined by Kagome, though Inuyasha had fought it at first before finally giving in after she’d batted her eyelashes and bribed him with ramen.

 Sneaky wench.

 The glow of the television was the only illumination provided and the volume was down low so as to now disturb the slumbering members of Kagome’s family upstairs. Said wench was currently situated on the floor with him and between his legs, reclined back on his chest with her head tucked into the crook of his neck and her breathes deep and even as she slept.

 Staring down at the head of dark hair, Inuyasha pondered on just how she’d ended up in that position in the first place. She’d started out on the couch, sprawled out and cuddled up in a blanket while he’d already been on the floor, leaning back against the sofa by her head and quite comfortable. Then suddenly Kagome announced she was cold, promptly rolled off the couch onto the floor and wiggled herself between his legs, forcing him to accommodate her invasion. He had, with lots of blushing and demands on just what the hell she was doing, but she’d only responded in cute little grunts before splaying the blanket over both of them, snuggling back into him and finally going still with a content sigh, a blissful little smile on her face. Inuyasha gradually relaxed after a while and had hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist. She hadn’t protested and laid her arms over his, even going so far as to slide her fingers in between his own.

 That had been two hours ago, and Inuyasha smiled at the memory, giving the hand interlocked with this own a squeeze. Kagome muttered something in her sleep and gave a soft sigh, still managing to squeeze his hand back. Staring at her peaceful face, he reflected on the day’s events, Mama Higurashi’s easy acceptance and warm nature, Souta’s refreshing exuberance with his eager-to-please attitude, and even the old man’s grumbling but reassuring recognition that as long as Kagome was alive and well, he had breath in his body and strength in his limbs, he was here to stay and that would never change if he had anything to say about it.

 They were strange, a little over bearing at times, definitely nothing he was used to, but he decided those were all good things. But despite being all of those things, Kagome’s family was just that; a family, and for the first time since his mother died, Inuyasha felt like he truly belonged.

 A family, Inuyasha mused, and smiled tenderly down at the woman sleeping peacefully in his arms. Maybe one day…Kagome and I…can have one of our own. Without thinking he bent and brushed a kiss across her temple, nuzzling her hair and heaving a soft, content sigh as he tightened his arms around her.

 And if by some miracle his greatest wish did come true and their family ended up being anything like the one he found himself included in right now…well, that’d be just fine with him.

#Inukag Week #inukag week day 4 #family #inuyasha #kagome #FLUFF #i like how his interaction with souta turned out #i was watching pacific rim while writing this #holy shit ive actuLLY MADE IT TO DAY FOUR #IM ON A ROLL #WOOOOOOOO #honestly i never thought i would make it this far #im so proud of myself #go me