#things I may have to remove if this gets published but for now please enjoy the nostalgia. :)

[blue-kyber]

Heehee.

Veggitales easter eggs. :) (Will and Terra are 10. They were taken from Earth on NYE 1999. They would both know of Veggietales. :) These are kids who have powers.)

-----

He stopped when Terra found a nathakit sunbathing on someone’s doorstep to pet.

“So soft,” she coo’d as the domesticated animal rolled over to show its pale spotted fur for a belly rub and purred. “I want one.”

“No.” He kept walking, beckoning the two to follow.

She frowned, but kept up, “But I’ve never had a pet.”

“And you’re not getting one, either.”

“I’ve never licked a spark plug,” Will blurted out the thought on his mind with a deep urge to say it, even though it had nothing to do with pets.

A joyful grin spread across Terra’s face as she instantly caught onto his train of thought, “And I’ve never sniffed a stink bug.”

“And I’ve never painted daisies on a big red rubber ball!” they both sang.

Yune had no idea where to begin with this, “What?”  

“And I’ve never bathed in yogurt, and I don’t look good in leggings…”

Then to Yune’s perplexed surprise, both kids loudly sang out, “And we've never been to Boston in the fall!”

A couple of pedestrians looked at them curiously from the strange language coming from the two ebullient children.

“Hey,” Yune covered their mouths, “What did I say about speaking English?”

“Sorry,” they both mumbled from behind his palms. They didn’t forget the rule. The lyrics were in their memories in English, so that’s what automatically came out, even though they couldn’t remember where it came from. Like so many other bits of knowledge from Earth, it was just there with no context. The scattered remnants left behind from the aggressive purge of their pasts. 

He let them go and they bounced off, humming a spritely tune he didn’t recognize instead of singing it. 

They found a loophole. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose from a headache already threatening to exist, “This is going to be a long day. I can feel it.”

#writing #things I may have to remove if this gets published but for now please enjoy the nostalgia. :) #I've never been to boston in the fall #veggietales

[project-sekai-facts]

Hi! Welcome to Project SEKAI facts!

This account posts daily facts and trivia about Project SEKAI! I occasionally do longer analysis/content overview posts as well as some event speculation.

This account is currently operated by one mod and is scheduled to post daily at 4pm UTC. Bonus facts may be posted if I find something interesting in newly released content.

Please ask before reposting my stuff.

Hope you enjoy your visit!

↓ Submissions & Asks info + more below cut ↓

Submissions are welcome!

Rules:

Must be canon or otherwise official - Content from any server of the game (including cards, stories and songs etc), music videos, Petit SEKAI, official artwork or 4komas is OK! I will also accept content from the anthology mangas and magazine articles. In other words everything is fine except fandom stuff/unofficial fanworks.

If the fact is related to Vocaloid/Virtual Singers, it must be relevant to Project SEKAI in some way.

No leaks - Leaked content is usally low quality and I will not be able to post the fact until the content has been released officially, so I'd rather you didn't submit it at all.

Please submit a source for your fact - a screenshot, image, video or link is OK! If you don't have any then that's fine, but please at least tell me what story/card/etc is the source so I can get the screenshot/image myself.

If the source is not available on the EN or JP server, or is not available online, please attach an image/video! - I only play on the EN and JP servers, and will only be able to get screenshots and recordings of content available on those servers. If your fact relates to content exclusive to any other server or is from a physically published source and you do not provide an image/video, I will not accept the submission.

Asks are also open if you have any questions about a fact or if you have any general questions for me. Due to the incredibly overwhelming amount of asks I get nowadays, it is impossible for me to answer everything. Sincerest apologies for that. I still try to answer as many as possible but it could take a while for your ask to get a response. Also please do not ask me about shipping.

Tagging

Characters are tagged Firstname Lastname (excluding Vocaloids). For example, facts about Ichika will be tagged as Ichika Hoshino.

Events will be tagged using the translations from the Project SEKAI wiki, rather than the official English names. This is just for consistency so I don't have to go back and redo tags whenever EN changes a title.

The media will also be tagged (e.g: Hatsune Miku: COLORFUL STAGE or Petit SEKAI)

Full tag list linked in description

Send me an ask/comment if you need anything trigger tagged. Triggers will be tagged "trigger tw". Flashing lights is the only thing I actively tag atm.

Repost policy

I literally just post trivia I’m not gatekeeping that from you

I do ask though that you don’t copypaste my posts. Mainly because it undoes fomatting and removes any sources I linked in most cases, but also in the same way teachers say it just write in your own words rather than copying mine

Don’t repost my essays at all but that should be a given

Sharing a link the original tumblr post is always fine

About mod

This is a sideblog. Thanks to recent tumblr updates I can now respond to replies directly

EN player since launch, got the game for the Sonic costume, stayed for potato ni natte iku

i'm a VBS main. no i will still not tell you who my oshis are or my opinions on ships. i like the vbs side characters and asahi and sakurako. i will tell you that much because i doubt how much people care about them.

I wrote the TVTropes entry in the header before the one other person who uses that site accuses me of stealing it

Feel free to send asks about my opinions on the game idm talking

I have most notifications for this blog turned off so if I ever miss something I apologise

^ best ask i've ever gotten now framed in my pinned post

#21 people asked for this. and I shall deliver #I will add a blog theme eventually. eventually #not gonna bother with a DNI just know if I see any dodgy people it's on sight #project sekai #mod talks #well the blog's been up for several months now and the eventually finally happened. blog theme acquired.

[vitaminseetarot]

Aquarius Full Moon PAC - General Messages 🖤💗❤️

The full moon in Aquarius is finally here! I hope you're getting the chance to enjoy some sunshine in between these bright moonlit evenings. I sure have had my fill from this last weekend; I got the royal sunburn to prove it! Owo#

(Life lesson: apply sunscreen, then do it AGAIN.)

Aren't you glad we can't get moonburns? One could get burned sitting on the moon, sure, but it's kinder than to send that kind of energy back down to Earth. The moon allows us to see the sun's light without dying, which I can appreciate. But I'm going off on a tangent! Below are three images based on color palette cards I've picked for your reading. I've also added some emoji hearts for additional guidance. Please time all the time you need to select your pile when you're ready.

(1, 2, 3 - images from pixabay, divider from @saradika)

Pile 1. Tahoe Blue + Black Heart

X Wheel of Fortune, 7 of Pentacles, XXI World; Sun - Source, Space (Black), New Moon Gemini - Communication is Key

"I'm curious about my true nature; I seek to understand myself."

I feel such stillness and calm with this pile. You have so much blue present in your pile asides from the palette card! And watery energy too; your moon quote card has a lake on it too! Still yet deep. I'm hearing that this pile is getting a big upgrade to your throat energy. It's for both ways, listening and speaking, but I think speaking is being highlighted here more. This is in order to help you move through a bigger phase of your life that's yet to come. You may be feeling like you're ready to come out of your shell, even if just for a short while. There's a sense of grand change occurring in your external world, something that has been in the background or in the works for a long time has finally begun to culminate during this potent full moon time.

You have have recently closed a big chapter in your life and cleared out the muck. Now it's like you're standing before a canvas and you're ready to paint something new. The lunar force moving now allows a turn of luck to flow towards you like a water wheel. It's also purifying your intentions. When you have the place to be still and concentrate on where you want to go next, things can really quickly line up in your favor. With this extra space, whatever that has been building in the background may finally come out and be seen and heard. There's no resistance to this buildup, or there was resistance but it's been removed through this clearing out. You're being asked to savor this brief time. Not just make use of it, because in a way it's growing on its own, but to actually enjoy where you are right now. To get into the mindset of the person on the 7 pentacles card harvesting their abundance, that all is working out at a good pace.

You're being recommended to journal or write during this phase, perhaps like paragraphs of where you're going next (like a vaunt). I'm also getting vision boards for you would help if you need inspiration, or lyrical songs. I'm getting that communications will help you move into the next stage. This whole reading reminds me of someone who's finally finished the manuscript of their book and is sitting in that serenity of having completed something important. But, dear, that's not the end of it! You still need to bring it out into the world for it to be as evident as you see it in your mind. You still would need to get an agent and submit the manuscript to publishers for review.

Communication is being highlighted here as being that which you need in order to move along. Furthermore, you're being asked to tune into yourself for answers on where you'd like to go next, as no one else can tell you. People don't just go out on the lake for peace and quiet, they go to find a piece of themselves and to tune into that for spiritual guidance. May the boat be your lucky charm this full moon, pile 1. Not just to find yourself on the open water, but to connect you with other shores as well.

Pile 2. Sunflower Seed + Pink Heart

Queen of Cups, Queen of Swords, 4 of Cups; Vesta - Hearth, Love (Pink); Full Moon Virgo - You Are Good Enough

"Beauty raises my vibration; I seek it for joy."

For the rest of this month, you are focusing solely on your own needs. Like it or not! [blows coach whistle] But no, seriously, I'm not getting busybee vibes from this pile, I'm getting "poor dehydrated bee that's fainted on a flower" kind of feel. Maybe you're actually dehydrated and tired! This could also be true for your garden if you have one. You may need extra TLC around this full moon. You've been stretching yourself too thin but you'll be in much-deserved receiving mode in order to heal. I like that two Queens showed up and one of them is of Swords. She knows better than to spend her precious time worrying over the trifling things. She knows when to disconnect and tune into what's important. And Queen of Cups says that important thing is your own emotional wellbeing and comfort.

Your quote card features a person standing at the peak of a mountain with arms stretched out towards the moon in accomplishment. You either are or have been working intensely on something for the last few months. It either has or will soon come to a full head and with that comes a surge of expended energy. Similar to midterms or the week before a holiday when the workflow doubles. It's a crunch time! Since it's summer and you may not be in midterms or busy on vacation, this could be a reference for later this year or fiscal quarter. Take care that this busy time coming up isn't going to drain you.

You could have opportunities come up near the middle of autumn that's gonna want your attention. You'll want to be fully hydrated and refreshed for when it finally shows up. The 4 of cups can sometimes be about blind spots, or the blessings we don't see readily available because we're too tired and burnt out to really see what's there. It's highlighting this opportunity and wants you to make the most of it.

You could be feeling a strong pull to stay at home and focus on your craft, project, or hobby. Perhaps you're busy squeezing out the most free time you can while you have it. Again, avoid the sense of pushing like "oh man, I only have a week of summer vacation left oh geez what do I do?!" It's not a matter of sitting around and doing nothing all vacation only to hurt ourselves trying to be On 24/7 for a semester. That's not sustainable. Make the most out of your time, but make sure you have time carved out in between the high energy weeks of being productive. A sunflower without water can't stand and a bee without rest can't fly!

Pile 3. Clover Patch + Red Heart

XVII Star, XVI Tower, XV Devil; Progressions - Journey, Anger (Red), Waxing Crescent - Have Faith in Your Dream

"I gather more wisdom each day."

This pile … hoo boy. This would be my pile if I had to choose one, so I'm with y'all on this. Okay, I got the instant message that you are trying to manifest something very VERY big right now. I mean big like new car, apartment, longterm relationship, just something that's gonna upgrade and transform your life in a big way. It could even be education as one of the cards has a book in center. The thing is, Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither is your manifestation gonna instantly appear when you're desperately trying for it to cause desperation doesn't usually bring positive outcomes, it usually winds up with Fun With Dick and Jane type scenarios to play out. Also stress.

You have three major arcana cards in a row, with the tower card smacked right in the middle like a spicy sandwich cookie (would I even try one?) So I get it. This is likely a very significant full moon for you, supercharged as it's an Aquarian supermoon, and you got Aquarian Star as your first card, so emotions will be running a bit hot. Unpredictable swings. Sudden "bursts". But don't suppress your feelings of frustration, you'll just need to redirect these emotions differently.

You gotta be patient and watch it unfold organically. Even if you're manifesting the demolition of something, there is strategy to it. Demolition workers don't just go in and do what they please, they have to be mindful of their surroundings and what impact they'll make when they make it. When gardeners prune, they're mindful of the angle of the cut, knowing that the right cut can grow just as the wrong cut can infect. Let things go as they may. Things can start moving smoothly or quite abruptly, so focus from a place of expecting that it's already coming and strategize from there. You got the Star card, so something fortunate is indeed coming for you. There is a little Leprechaun luck on your side. It'll be easier to see that once you're able to move past old blockages that are delaying your manifestation. Listen to the leprechaun and not the little voice on the other shoulder telling you that you need to panic over the small things.

See the current time you have as a manifestation in itself, as a product of you believing that you need extra time to cook up the right end goal. See this time you have as a blessing, not just an in-between state. Make good use of this time. There is no reason why the process can't be as fun as the destination. Your inner child is being subtly asked to come out to play for a spell. This pile may be into doing witchcraft spells; if so, grab a little glitter and sprinkle some magic into your day, especially a time-based spell like a growing plant or burning a candle. If anything, it will boost morale which is often more important for manifestation than simply applying routine and logic to everything. I'm also getting that journaling may be of interest to you, whether it's writing down meditation notes or affirmations or just venting. Get creative even and write a poem about your wishes. Try to incorporate more writing in general into your moon magic. (Thoth would be pleased.)

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

#tarotblr #tarot community #tarot #general reading #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #psychic readings #intuitive reading #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #tarot readings #pick a photo

[cordycepsfem]

Pageboy Readthrough, Part Four

Previously

EP talks about her complicated relationship with her mom

Mom made her do things like wear dresses and tights and barrettes

Mom was worried about EP's future as a GNC person/potential lesbian/little strange kid

your reviewer says that's normal, even if it's unkind

we learned that EP's mom thinks boys should not be friends

your reviewer says that's not normal

your reviewer got maudlin at the end of it all and it was kinda a bummer

You can find previous parts of this readthrough here.

Now

Chapter Five

Jesus Christ we start off with this boat thing again

I am so sorry Halifax that for the short time I was in you I was eating waffles and buying doughnuts and trying not to get a parking ticket and not paying attention to your obviously super important maritime disaster issue

I will do better next time

EP should just write a book about this disaster - it can't be any less readable

but if you want to read an actual book about the disaster that's already written may I recommend this one

anyway sorry what was the point of this?

oh: the anchor from this ship explosion is 2 minutes away from where EP's dad lived

we learn more about maritime history - seriously, EP, think about it

Dad was a graphic designer with a mini golf hole thing in his office

EP imagines herself as the next Ernie Els (and yes I am proud that I didn't need to look up the name of an actual golfer, you are correct)

as far as I can tell no one tells EP that women also play golf

it goes from ships and golf to "oh, shit" in the way that one reacts to a sad disaster, because I now feel bad for EP who is clearly not well:

Really, lady? You published this? I can't decide if this is a "Buddhist one with the whole world" thing or a cry for help, because when I felt this way - that I was a meaningless speck in the universe - the people who loved me got me help.

Also, last time I checked meaningless specks don't get acting jobs or book contracts, so... perhaps not so "almost nothing," hey, EP?

EP gets a stepmother

the stepmother comes with two children

the stepmother had a waterbed (the only one EP has ever seen) and works as a food stylist

as a digression here, has anyone ever seen more than one waterbed? because I was thinking about it and I have only seen exactly one waterbed in my life

EP has a crush on Sandra Bullock, who stars in a movie that EP's stepmother "food styles" for

later in life she has dinner with Sandy and Sandy is great

EP starts to tell us about how she was a picky eater but for some reason devolves into a story about a Canadian lighthouse

we eventually get to the point that she was a picky eater and she was forced to eat things she didn't like

EP and her dad and her stepmother and the two stepsiblings all move in together

we learn more Canadian history here which I swear I would be very into if that was what kind of book I was told this would be

the one boy I ever dated before realizing I was a lesbian was super into Canada in a way that is extreme for someone who is not Canadian, and I enjoyed experiencing Canadian culture with him rather than trying to come up with new excuses why I didn't want to kiss or hold hands, so please believe me when I say I am all about Canada

like any human with a new room EP is excited to decorate

EP gets dreamy about having a stepbrother

like, really dreamy

by this we can infer that no one told EP the following things:

girls can remove their shirts that way as well

girls also have torsos and can wear dangling chains

anything you can buy in the supermarket will not change your sex, including Old Spice

ETA: I came back here because a "dab" and a "dollop" are two specific unspecific measurement units that don't interact, like ounces and inches, and it finally got to me that I didn't include it. You can "dab" cologne, you cannot "dollop" cologne unless you are literally pouring it over yourself in a ladle. If EP was doing that, I retract my remark.

the next part makes me super unhappy as someone who knows how physically capable boys, especially boys who play sports, are and how powerful they can be

but Scott manages not to paralyze EP

he just continues to be a prick, as does EP's stepmother

also, I have two siblings and we were never rough in the way that EP says Scott was - maybe because they're both female?

EP enjoys Playmobil and still likes to play alone

EP gets ready to go on an adventure, like a normal kid might, only to have her terrible stepfamily tease her

I am so sorry, EP, please go back to Canadian history

Dad was nicer when Linda wasn't around (shocker, men are a bummer)

also a bummer: this step mom

at this point I will now fight anyone EP directs me to fight on her behalf

I know it's a whiplash but seriously:

I was a weird kid. I was a lot. And yet never did my parents make me feel like I was wrong. They pointed out that I did things differently, or liked different things, and that the things I liked and did might not match up with what other people thought someone like me should do. But mostly they let me do what made me happy, to an appropriate extent.

They never mocked me when I was caught up in a world of elaborate fantasy. I went on lots of "adventures" to the point where I still call any unexpected journey, especially one I get to choose, be it to the 7-11 or the pharmacy, an "adventure," because it shakes up the day a bit.

They didn't shield me from some social consequences of being weird but they taught me that being myself was really more important. And they never asked me Why aren't you like them?

In fact, as the years have gone on and I've struggled with my mental and physical health, with employment, with my sexuality and my body, with living close to poverty, with everything - I have been the one asking my parents Are you ashamed I'm not like them? in regards to their friends' kids. Not a doctor, not a lawyer, not a mom?

And every single time, No. You're the one we love. You are on a journey that is uniquely yours and we are blessed to be a part of it. Unconditionally, without a second thought.

And as the designated "weirdo" in all of my growing-up-school years, I would have been EP's friend in an instant. We could have bonded over our short haircuts and picky eating and been the two weirdos together. Then neither of us would have been alone.

... and I guess we end this part same as we did the last one, with me super bummed and marginally more educated about Canadian history.

#ellie's ep posting #pageboy readthrough #radical feminism #terfs do touch #radblr

[nongenderbentanimeneilarmstrong]

Early Honkai Impact manga are extremely fascinating to me. I would say anything released before Elan Platinus (Purple Kite Tales in case you're ever looking up volume release order on mangadex) is early Honkai to me since that all came out before there were a number of retcons regarding certain characters.

Another notable thing is that the artists basically didn't know how to draw boobs like at all. They look like gelatinous spheres attached to characters chests. Yeah sure this isn't probably that interesting but it really just gave honkai a different tone when there were flacid scuppernong grapes smushing into each other every page.

What may be the only official de-canonized part of honkai is the mystery of the stigmata arc. I'm not sure if later changes to the plot influenced this decision or not since I have commonly heard it was removed due to depicting the yellow emperor as an anime girl. Regardless, the main antagonist of this arc is Walter, the 1st herrscher, sovereign of AE, and also secretly Himeko's father. If you ever see anyone crawling out if the woodwork taking about Welt being Himeko's father, this is why. While we don't know what his powers were, the rebirth dlc GGZ character named Walter who was also the 1st herrscher and sovereign of AE had gravity powers. The Joyce clones and Welt seemed to have gravity powers in AE invasion/moon shadow so I feel fairly comfortable in saying that the 1st herrscher used to have gravity powers. However Walter was retconed and now we have Welt who is basically just a totally different guy (and now he doesn't even have gravity powers). Also here's the first image we get of Walter.

And here's a Canon image of the Joyce clone from Moon Shadow.

Himeko's first appearance in the escape from nagazora manga is also really, really bad. That's not how you put on armor, please don't do that. I genuinely don't want to post an image of the page I'm referring to because I don't feel comfortable inflicting this onto others I'm pretty sure this is soft core porn.

On a lighter note I want to show people Otto Apocalypse's first appearance in Honkai Impact.

As far as I can tell, since Otto is never actually seen in Theresa's chronicle chapter, this had to be his first appearance in the story. The translators of this game chose to introduce the English speaking fan base to this guy with a "nobody expects the Spanish inquisition" joke. I'm not sure if he was supposed to the the main antagonist when this was published, but regardless, someone consciously chose to draw this guy like this and someone decided to add in a month python joke. Old Honkai was just, extremely horny (though it is important to note that female characters were sexualized to a far greater degree).

Anyways regarding the original main antagonist, I'm pretty sure it was Cocolia to at least some extent. She was the main antagonist through the moon shadow arc, though Otto Apocalypse was pretty evil in that one so it's hard to say anything with a ton of confidence. Regardless, that's probably part of the reason why Cocolia AE was the main antagonist until she suddenly wasn't. Though the whole AE fracturing and Einstein/Tesla making a deal with Theresa was a pretty significant plot point in AE invasion so technically it wasn't entirely something that came out of nowhere, but really how many people would be reading the manga at that point in the story.

But yeah, here's some notable events from early Honkai manga that I think are pretty interesting. This post kinda ended up being a collection of some of the more salacious images I want to forget about so in general it's actually a pretty mixed bag. Azure Waters is really really good and I definitely enjoyed parts of AE invasion and moon shadow regardless of some scenes that I did not enjoy and would not recommend. Also I find it hilarious that Otto's introduction is like that. I cannot take him seriously at all in that arc or kinda in general whenever I'm reminded of that scene.

#hi3 #honkai impact #honkai impact 3 #honkai impact 3rd #early honkai

[cpknightly1]

Hello Surgey Buddies

Have you taken your Doctor's temperature lately? Not that thermometer THE OTHER ONE.

I hope you are healing and well and enjoying the emense and intense HEAT. Please stay hydrated. But slowly. Don't try to gulp liquid down when your very hot. Drink slowly a little at a time. But steadily. If not, your body will sure tell you. "That was too fast"! You'll end up tossing your cookies. Nice and steady is the way.

So here's a question for you.

Have you ever made a phone call and been confused with a phone solicitor? At least that's what I think they thought. "Wrong number"....(click). Holy Crap.

Now I feel it's better not to call them again. Unless they call me back. Sheesh.

Today marks the 7th month I've been in this wrist brace. I have to have ice on it 24 hours a day.

The diagnosis I got was, "It just happens " WTF?

Let me explain. They thought my injury was a condition called "Kenibocks syndrome" where the bone in your wrist is losing it's blood supply and eventually has to be removed. It usually happens because of an injury..they think.

Think?? I went back, he presses on the bone and no pain at all. The supply was back. However the pain still continues. For those of you who may get this it's best to keep the blood flow up. I was surprised that it can be done with wine. Or red grapes.

PARTY! I don't drink so I used massage and gentle pt.

Dr. Says it may be neurological. I've become exasperated.

Have you noticed it's very difficult to get an appointment right now? There's like a back log of patients. So your appointments are weeks or even months away. The belief is because of the backlog of effects on society and Covid.

Hopefully within the next 6 months things will adjust. It is very important to keep the appointments you make. Stay vigilant. Because you don't know when you will get another.

I may see some of you in recovery soon with this wrist. I'll bring enough ice packs to make an igloo!! Maybe we should try to play some pinochle or jenga (oh sure). And plenty of rubber bands to fling at the Doctors. Be nice to your nurses. Remember they put the bandages on.

It is true that the healing of wounds or surgery can move quicker with a lack of stress and anxiety. It helps the body to adjust in a healthy way to healing. Also very important to rest. Don't go ga-ga that the healing is finished. You could have a longer time to heal or have other complications.

Ok so someone told me that a show called "Peaky Blinders" was really good. I started watching and ended up not being able to stop. It was a marathon week. Give it a look. It is a true story.

Have you ever done that? Watched a show and you can't stop watching? It's a really great show. Hence the reason I haven't watched the final season of "Derry Girls". I hate when good shows are done.

I've started ideas for the next book. And have procrastinated with the publishing. With this wrist. You really don't know how much you use your hands together and forget to stop from trying with the injured one. "SOAB"!! has been ringing out through the entire house.

As the summer comes to an end..don't stop going to the gym. This happens to many people. And it's during these next months that your body will need it most. Halloween candy, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Even if you go twice a week you'll feel better and keep your weight in check.

I keep looking at my guitar and sighing. I'm counting on the process of the wrist to be over soon. Remember I still have 4 nodes in my throat that will be removed. Everything having to do with music is in the waiting room.

How am I coping? "Animal Crossing ". I play one handed but it takes my mind off. If you're in the game and you'd like to see my island send your amiibo#.

That's the story for now.

Always,

Chris

🌹❤️🙃

[otterenergy1962]

Starting Something New - Giving My Life a Facelift

Life has a way of getting in your way of intentions. I haven’t posted on my blog for some time now.

I’ve been very busy with self-publishing my novel: Life-Line: Origins. As I write this, it is still in progress. There will soon be a proper webpage, FaceBook Page and Instagram as well. 

My life has been full of many other things such as teaching my grade six class, expanding my gardens, and travelling to see good friends in Provincetown, Pasadena, Fresno, Seattle, Oakland and Fresno. I’ve begun to experiment more in my cooking too.

Life has been good, but there have been some downers such as a chest injury that may require surgery and getting rid of a COVID belly. I lost my dog, Parker in 2020 and my cat, Miss Suki in June 2022. I’ve lost a couple of friends to cancer, which affects me a lot due to being a cancer survivor. I’ve walked away from several toxic relationships, including one that now prevents me from pursuing Dungeons and Dragons with a group of friends that I really enjoyed. Another downer has been my passion for teaching. It really declined this past school year.

In spite of this, I have been working on still raising my energetic attraction. I’ve expanded my network of friends in Nova Scotia. I have been going to a first-of-the-month gay social too. I am breaking down the wall of isolation and shyness by stepping out of my comfort zone. Finally, I am still seeing the difference between loneliness and being alone.

So, why am I writing this blog? Well, I’ve been experiencing a few new phenomena: getting older, becoming more invisible in the gay world and getting through a few injuries that I mentioned earlier. The chest injury has really woken me up to how fragile my body really is. Other examples are a small carcinoma in my ear that I had to have removed and having my post-cancer belly button pushed back in. They’ve all left scars and I’ve come to realize that there are other scars needing attention: emotional ones.

There is the sticky business of aging. There is a lot of work to address about changes in my body, my mind and my desires. There is a retirement to consider. There is a possibility that I may meet someone with whom I wanted to settle. There could quite possibly be no one in my future. Who knows?

Anyway, I’ve been maintaining my higher levels of energy and succeeding. There are always pitfalls and successes too.

As I close off this blog for now (who’s to say that I won’t post again) I want to mention my other blog about fighting cancer which can be found at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/otter1962crystalball. That blog has sat without an entry for a while. It does give me a sense of what I did during that self-discovery time during COVID as I search for the inner me.

Now, I am starting a new blog about dealing with my age, my health, my goals and above all, my passions. Please check it out at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/otter1962crystalball 

Carpe diem my friends!

#moving on #changes

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around Your Neck

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, choking, metal arm kink, fingering, semi-public sex, slight hand and finger kink - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: Something sparks in you when you watch Bucky wrap his hand -- the metal hand -- around Zemo’s throat. A/N: I was gonna wait to publish this tomorrow but ya know what?? im too excited about it. it’s pretty well received on ao3 so i hope y’all enjoy! probably not the best smut ever written but i had fun writing it. this is a result of some late night imagination.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

It happened fast. You were sitting on the plane, watching the trio bicker, when the next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was around Zemo’s throat. To make matters more intense, it was the metal one. While hidden under that glove and coat, just the thought of it, the realization hit…

While fully aware of the intensity and seriousness of the situation, you practically groaned at the action. You didn’t know what it was, but seeing that contrast of metal and skin, and the flex of his arm... You couldn’t help it as you let out a breathy gasp.

Bucky backed away then but not before giving you a side glance. You could tell he was fighting back a teasing smirk as he eyed you and your sudden tense state. To outsiders it may have seemed like you were scared by your boyfriend’s reaction, even Zemo looked a bit concerned, but you and Bucky knew. Knew the pillow talk and drunk confessions you’d made about the arm.

Your thighs clenched as you watched Bucky return to his seat. He still wore that hard expression, somehow turning you on even more. It was suddenly getting hot, you felt, squirming a bit in your sweater.


Why did you allow yourself in this position? When Bucky enlisted your help, citing your past as an agent, you had originally dismissed it. You’d never really worked with your boyfriend, having already been out of the scene before he came into your life. But those pleading eyes and soft touches won you over no matter what.

Little did you know, though, it’d lead to you being on the private jet of a terrorist, ridiculously turned on by your boyfriend’s metal arm.

You fumbled for your bottle of water, taking a big gulp.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked as he broke off the conversation with the other two men. All of them faced you, waiting for a reply.

You nodded, placing your water bottle down. You turned directly to Bucky and met his furious eyes. “Just feeling a bit hot.”

He raised his brows as you felt the other men stare with confusion. The relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but the tone you two spoke with was certainly one reserved for other times.

"I think there’s a bathroom towards the back," Bucky nodded, motioning towards the end of the plane with his metal arm. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Zemo odd in confirmation. "If you need to cool down."

His simple movements sent a million little fires within you. The wetness between your thighs was getting harder to ignore, harder to play cool in front of the other men.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Thank you, Bucky." You said his name with such slow ease, it was lighting something more in him, too. That’s when it really clicked.

You watched him as you rose from your seat. He glanced down, pretending to check something, trying to act as cool and collected as possible. For a former assassin, you thought, he wasn’t doing very well. He definitely knew. He got the little hint in your nod, in your tone. You figured he’d give it at most five minutes.

You made it to the airplane bathroom and squeezed your way in. Way smaller than you anticipated and you tried to figure how your super-soldier boyfriend was going to fit in here but he’d make it in. His arousal wouldn’t let him out of this.

You stood in front of the mirror, faux fixing your make-up and splashing water to kill time when the knock on the door came. Bucky hadn’t even given it a full minute before he was hot on your heels.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency as you unlocked the door.

"You know they totally know what’s going on in here," you whispered as Bucky just barely fit himself inside the tiny bathroom. In one full motion, he locked the door then picked you up by the waist, setting you on the makeshift bathroom counter. You let out another giggle of surprise by his smoothness.

His arms were around your waist, pulling himself into your body, so eager and urgent. The gloves were long gone you realizes as you gasped at the feeling of the metal arm teasingly making its way under your sweater. His grip on you were tight.

"Do you think I care if they know?" Bucky mumbled as he began attacking your neck with kisses. He nipped and licked at your skin making you let out little squeals. Oh yeah, there was no way no one knew what was happening here but you didn’t have it in your heart to care anymore. You were practically dripping in your jeans and it was like Bucky could tell.

In an attempt to move closer, his thigh came up to your core, pressing, rubbing. You moved with it, letting the motions ease some of the burning in you.

Bucky continued the assault on your neck as you let out a desperate moan. "Could we please at least hurry so it’s not as weird when we go back out there?"

Your boyfriend chuckled, almost darkly, as he removed his lips from your neck. He began working up until his lips were finally on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, now taking your chance to pull him in. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your eagerness as he once again nudged your core with his thigh. The moans you gave out at that… Bucky felt captivated and you could feel it in his kiss.

Reluctantly disconnecting, he mumbled, "I don’t think I want to hurry anything, doll." He gave another peck. "Might want to stay here and spend hours between those thighs."

"Bucky-," you gasped.

"But that’s not what you’re here for, right?" He chuckled, his metal arm on your bare back. It came around to your side slowly, inching upward to your lace-covered breasts. "It’s the arm that got you all bothered."

You groaned as he then began to drag the hand back down your side, dipping just a finger below the waist of your jeans. The coolness barely skimmed over your hip but you were thrilled. It was a riveting contrast to the warmth that had been building over you since Bucky decided to choke someone right in front of you.

"It just looked g-good," you were getting breathy trying to formulate words. But everything was escaping you. As you tried formulating coherent sentences, Bucky began popping the buttons of your jeans then slowly tugging down the zipper. You gulped at the actions.

"Yeah?" Bucky chuckled, halting his actions. "How do you think my hand would look wrapped around your neck?"

Your brain starting spinning. You hated and loved when you got in this drunk state for him and he apparently was amused too as he gave you no time to answer. Bucky backed off a bit, as far as he really could, removing his touch entirely. You leaned back on the counter, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The lightbulb went off in your head at his words. With a coy smirk, you hopped down from the counter and turned, your ass just brushing over his front. He was already ridiculously hard and apparently not amused with your sudden teasing. Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hips and forced you around completely. He made you plant your hands on the counter, giving you a clear view of yourself in the small airplane bathroom mirror. It surely wasn’t a full-fledge mirror but gave you just enough to see your neck, which you could already imagine how it was going to look with Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around it.

Apparently abandoning his threat of taking his time, Bucky pulled down your jeans and panties in one swift, sudden motion. You gasped at the action, feeling the material practically burn your thighs as it went.

Bucky was over any more teasing and talk as his metal hand promptly came up to your neck. It wrapped around, just tight enough to make you groan at the pressure. It felt so heavy and secure. Like it belonged there. You swore you got wetter at the sight.

Your eyes caught Bucky’s in the mirror. His didn’t hid how aroused, intrigued, he was at the sight before him. His eyes never left yours as his other hand made its way down your body, slipping right to your core where it found the bundle of nerves begging for attention. He gave it some attention before moving to dip a finger in you. Bucky groaned in your ear at the wetness that met his skin.

He pumped the one finger in and out slowly but surely as he whispered in your ear, "So wet." Another pump. "Looking so pretty, doll."

Your eyes started drifting close at the sensations Bucky was working over your body. Between the tightness on your neck to the pumping finger to your clit that brushed a bit over the counter, you were losing it.

Bucky, apparently, didn’t like you getting too comfortable. Without any warning, he pulled his finger out and undid his pants. Before you could register anything happening around you, he plunged his cock into you, lunging you forward on the counter. Your eyes snapped open. You were greeted by your boyfriend’s intense expression once again.

You barely registered the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were wide and that metal hand was not letting up on your neck. You could barely choke out any moans but it all felt so good, so right.

Satisfied that he had your attention, Bucky began thrusting in and out of you, pushing you more into the counter now, your arms barely holding up. He slipped in and out of you with such ease it was almost embarrassing. The only sounds prevalent for a bit in the room were the squelching between your thighs and the light grunts Bucky let out.

"How’s that?" Bucky asked between thrusts. Your legs were going to give out if he even began to talk. And as if he knew that fact, he continued. "Is this what you wanted, doll? My hand wrapped around your neck while I pounded into this sweet, tight pussy?"

You could only let out a weak moan in response which pleased him greatly. So much so, the thrusting picked up and the hand got tighter. Shocking you, your legs began to tremble. Bucky must’ve sensed it as his other hand came to grasp your waist tightly.

"I got you, doll," he whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. The contrast between that and his not-so-sweet motions nearly had you climaxing right then and there. "Got you so drunk on this cock you can barely stand, huh?"

You gave a breath moan, "B-Bucky-,"

He continued pounding as he spoke, seeming like the world’s greatest multitasker. Well, you figured, those assassins gotta be fast on their feet.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky mocked. "You close?"

You nodded profusely, watching your boyfriend in the mirror as he turned back towards it, your eyes meeting. He looked so blown out, in a primal state, as he kept working in and out of you.

Slowly, Bucky’s hand left your waist and sneaked down to your clit. He gave it a quick press that made you yelp. Bucky chuckled, amused by your responsiveness. It didn’t make him falter as he pressed again, this time running tight circles on your clit. The pressure and motion were making you lose your mind.

Bucky must’ve greatly enjoyed the sight as his metal hand got slightly tighter. You couldn’t do it — didn’t know how you managed it until now — but your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm built and built and built—

He sped up the motions on your clit, accompanied by even more powerful thrusts. Your arms gave out, overwhelmed, sending you forward on the counter. Bucky went with, pressing his body fully into yours. His hand never left your throat. His thrusts never hesitating.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered and you could practically hear the cocky smile on his lips. "Cum for me."

And you did. It took nothing else. Your orgasm rushed through you, sending sparks and waves across your body. Bucky never once let up as he simultaneously chased his own while working you through yours.

"Bucky…" you mumbled as your legs shook, your orgasm rushing warmth throughout your body.

His motions and thrusting weren’t letting up, sending you into an overstimulated state. You clenched on his cock at the sensation. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. With a tight grip still on you and a desperate moan on his lips, he came inside, soaking your walls, letting it drip to your thighs.

His movements got weak and sloppy as he worked through his orgasm. You couldn’t even handle it anymore and pushed his hand from your clit, earning an amused chuckle from your boyfriend.

He gave one more quick thrust before pulling out of you, watching as his seed slowly leaked out of your swollen hole. He had half the nerve to get on his knees to clean you up but figured that was the last thing you wanted in your overwhelmed, dazed state.

Instead, he was a good boyfriend and began cleaning you up with some hand towels from a rack. You shivered as the fabric came into contact with your thighs. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

Once cleaned, you finally found your balance again. You pulled up your panties and jeans then looked back into the mirror. You saw Bucky working to readjust himself in his jeans but what really caught your attention was the redness. Your neck had the faintest yet noticeable glow of red from his hand. You gasped, lightly running your hands over it.

Bucky whipped his head towards you, suddenly noticing the redness left on your skin from his grip. His heart nearly stopped until he saw the pure delight, satisfaction, in your eyes.

"Was that okay?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You two watched each other in the mirror, this time in a much softer, sweeter position than before.

You nodded, "It was wonderful."

Bucky grinned and placed a kiss upon your lips. You melted into it, half wanting to go another round. But Bucky forced you two to disconnect.

"We should get back out there," he said.

You frowned. "What happened to spending hours between my thighs?"

"You little minx," Bucky groaned, his hands coming up to tickle your sides. You let out a squeal.

"We really have to face them, huh?"

Bucky went to answer but was cut off by Sam suddenly yelling from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, you do!" He called out, anger and annoyance dripping from his words.

You two met each other’s stare as if hoping for one to suggest a way out of this mess but coming up empty, you just gave a sigh and pushed out of Bucky’s arms. Shamefully, you unlocked the door and opened it, trying to prepare mentally for how you were ever going to face Sam again.

"Sorry, Sam," you mumbled, slipping your way around him back to your seat, avoiding his gaze all cost. Bucky followed behind, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"On a plane? Really?" Sam asked in disbelief. "While people are sitting right here?" You gave a quick glance to Zemo who truthfully didn’t look bothered by the situation. Your stomach turned at the idea of what else was taking place on this plane.

"Maybe you’re just jealous," Bucky finally spoke as he got comfortable again in his seat. Sam still stood in the aisle, hands on his hips, shocked by Bucky’s suggestion.

"Jealous?"  

Bucky shrugged. "I got to bang my very hot girlfriend on a plane. I think you’re jealous."

You groaned at his words, trying to hide your face in your hands. You could hear Bucky’s light chuckles, practically dismissing the situation, which did not please Sam.

"Who thinks it’s okay to bang their girlfriend when other people are right on the other side of the door?" Sam asked.

"Look, Sam," Bucky turned his head towards him, that teasing grin playing at his lips. "When it’s game time, it’s game time."

His words earned a chorus of disgusted groans and protest from the entire group. Your face was hot, probably entirely flushed, as red as your neck if you had to guess. You tried reprimanding Bucky for his ridiculous innuendos — something he didn’t quite understand as he tried defending his statement to the group. No one was buying it.

"Alright," you finally said, halting the conversation. "That’s enough. Can we please no longer talk about this? I think we get it, we got a bit carried away."

Zemo, however, didn’t think it was enough. He decided to add his two cents to the conversation by asking, "And what exactly inspired you to get carried away?"

Zemo didn’t even try to hide it as his eyes glanced down to Bucky’s metal arm. Sam observed, his eyes suddenly getting wide as he put two and two together, causing him to share even more disgust towards you two. Bucky took it all, laughing like it was the greatest joke of all time. You, on the other hand, hid your face once more, praying your seat would just swallow you whole. It sent them into another bicker of conversation.

No one was ever going to let you live it down.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #slight tfatws spoilers #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #mcu #mcu fic #fluff #smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #writing*

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, ��ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader-insert #rough day #no-droids #smut

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || GIVE YOU ALL MY FIRSTS

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of hickeys + light mention of sex + mention of religious connotation and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 20 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.1k

↳ synopsis : it’s the night and after a long day, you finally have the opportunity to remove the makeup you have placed on your neck to reveal a few things that you wouldn’t want the world to know about...

↳ request : hi!!! Idk if you’ve done this one yet but can I request an imagine with Megumi where he wants to take it a step further into his relationship with his gf and decides to try giving her hickeys. Maybe at first it feels weird but the more he does it the more the gf gets used to it?

↳ barista’s notes : so i tried to do this imagine as like a teenage love experiencing different stages of a relationship/discovering their sexual side kind of imagine, but i’m not really sure if it came out like that ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

A soft moonlight was gently shining down through the windows of the sliding door in your dorm room, while another warm glow was coming from the white desk lamp you had brought during a shopping trip with Kugisaki since your old one was on the verge of breaking. However, even though the light was on, you weren’t sitting on your desk chair, reading, studying or even using your laptop to watch something interesting on Youtube or Netflix.

Currently, you had seated yourself on the wooden floor in the corner of your room near the same sliding door, sitting in front of an arch vintage antique mirror that you had amazingly discovered when you went thrift shopping one day by yourself and took the immediate decision to purchase it due to how beautiful it looked.

As your reflection depicted, you had tied your hair back while having a bottle of what seemed to be makeup remover in one hand while the other had a cotton pad where the removal liquid was being placed, before you gently placed the now damp pad on the side of your neck as you slowly wiped down to remove the unnoticeable concealer and foundation that you had applied earlier this morning.

As the product started to remove itself from your skin, there was a sudden reveal of a purplish bruise-like mark shown leading to a light rose blush to appear on your cheek the second your eyes made contact with it. 

From what you could recall, your boyfriend had randomly one day started to have a sudden fixation on your neck and began to start leaving a few kisses here and there at the beginning which was surprising since he wasn’t the physically affectionate type. However, one day when you and him were at his dorm room relishing in each other’s company, you unexpectantly felt a small bite on your neck that caused you to moan softly at the feeling before he looked at you in the eye as a way to convey something to you.

In the beginning, it somewhat gave you a weird sensation since you both never really explored further into your relationship, you both never had been sexually active with each other or anyone else as a matter of fact and like you had mentioned before, he was never the one to be physically affectionate with you. However, as time went on, you allowed him to continuously mark you since you were selfishly and greedily relishing the pleasure that it gave you.

You couldn’t deny yourself that the feeling it gave you was something that felt forbidden but too good to even let go of. Like a forbidden fruit some may say.

Maybe that’s why Eve was so enticed by it.

Suddenly, there was a quiet knock on your door causing you to instantly snap out of your daze before turning to look at the wooden door that was slowly starting to open. You weren’t worried about who was coming in since you had gotten a message from your boyfriend that he was coming to your room soon since you had invited him after the mission you both were on.

After a few seconds, Fushiguro was standing in the doorway with a soft smile - a smile that you were the only one to see - before closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you,” Fushiguro greeted, as he made his way towards you before taking a seat next to you on the floor, allowing the mirror in front of him to get a perfect view for him. 

Smiling back at him, you greeted him back before concentrating back on the remaining makeup that needed to be removed for the day causing Fushiguro to take a look at the markings that were slowly appearing again as the feeling of pride, as well as possessiveness, took over him slowly at the sight of your decorated neck.

Fushiguro couldn’t help but have a dilemma himself. He never had been intimate with someone romantically or sexually yet here you were right in front of him, someone that he really loves and cherished, someone who changed his perspective on the word and feeling ‘love’, someone who he wanted to give all his ‘firsts’ to.

His first lover.

His first girlfriend.

His first date.

His first kiss.

Now he wanted his first time to be with you.

Yet, he felt selfish for wanting you as bad as he did.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked, leading Fushiguro to look at you with his emerald eyes before he slowly raises his hand and began to leisurely as well as gently trace the marks on your neck causing you to close your eyes and shiver at the feeling of his cold fingers touching your warm skin leading you to place your hand on his wrist as if you wanted him to keep his hands there.

“Do they hurt?” Fushiguro asked as he stayed put to which you answered by shaking your head as the blush that was at first pale now turned into fully bloomed Valentine’s Day roses as the colour of your cheeks have darkened.

“I….actually don’t mind them…...in fact, I really….like it….when...you give me them,” you quietly commented with a stutter, before turning away from your boyfriend to look down onto the ground in complete embarrassment since you didn’t have a single clue how or what to feel at this current moment in time.

Of course, you have read many novels and books that have displayed erotic scenes that told you how the characters felt but never once have you ever experienced the real mature feeling until now. You had to admit to anyone, no book or story could ever prepare you for the real thing no matter the multitude of what you read on paper or online. Nothing can prepare you for the real thing.

Suddenly, your felt Fushiguro’s hand pull away from the grasp of your wrist leading a wave of anxiety to enclose your body before you felt something warm coming from behind leading you to look up slowly, only from the mirror’s reflection to find Fushiguro sitting behind you as he moved your body to fit right between his legs as he then processed to wrap his arms around your shoulders as if to save you the wave that had consumed your earlier.

“You know,” Fushiguro began to state as he hooked his chin on your shoulder while looking eye to eye with you in the mirror. “I really like putting them on you,” Fushiguro bashfully confessed as he then processed to leave a light chaste kiss on the side of your neck causing the rose blush on your cheeks to deepen more if it could.

“I really want to give you all my firsts,” Fushiguro commented, leading you to look at his reflection with widened eyes before a soft smile slowly made its way to your face.

“I want to give you all my firsts as well Mimi”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi fushiguro #jjk fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi imagines #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagines #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader

[neecxle]

Not So Berry Extended

I finished the Not So Berry Challenge but wanted to continue for a few more generations because I adore my family. So I’ve written up my own version of things I want to do and accomplish per generation. Now this is a small extension most likely 3 generations that will be updated as I play. Rules may be subject to change whether that be adding or removing things, bc I am playtesting all of this currently.

If you want to follow and watch my playthrough of my Not So Berry Extended, you can do so HERE. ♥

Hope you enjoy and have fun with it! 

Generation 11: White 

From a young age you grew a fascination with acting, the idea of being able to step away from reality and take on a role of someone else excited you. So with the supportive parents you had, they enrolled you in drama club for the entirety of your school life. You begin to strive for something more, becoming a global superstar actor! With focusing so much on your career, keeping serious romantic relationships is difficult because you always prioritize work over love. You eat, breathe, sleep acting and you were happy keeping it that way. But with a one night stand gone wrong... you find out you are now left with an unplanned child. 

Traits: Self-Absorbed // Music Lover // Non-Committal

Aspiration: Master Actor

Career: Actor

Goals:

enroll in drama club as a child and teen + get promoted to junior artiste (lvl.4)

master acting skill

reach level 5 in singing, dancing and an instrument of your choice

master the actor career and master actor aspiration

become a 5 star celebrity

have at least 1 celebrity best friend

never get married

have a one night stand and “accidentally” get pregnant/impregnate the sim* - this will be your only child

* if you choose to impregnate a sim, once the sim gives birth they give you the child to take care of 

side note: if you don’t have access to custom content feel free to use silver hair in replacement for white and dress them in white if you please

Generation 12: Brown

Growing up in the shadows of your parents spotlight was a little hard on you. Although you knew how much they loved you and tried their best to spend every free moment with you, you still felt...alone. Thankfully being a part of the scouts club gave you a sense of family, which you deeply cherished. Scouts club also made you truly fall in love with the outdoors. Being out in nature didn’t make you feel like you were so alone anymore, which is why camping became something you loved to do. There were tales that in the Deep Woods of Granite Falls a hermit resides away from everyone, so naturally the curious bean you were you had to find out for yourself. Forever alone felt like a motto you started to live by and thought you’d never get married like your parent, but someone finally came along and you were really happy with the way life was heading. Unfortunately down the road things didn’t end up working out. You’ve always secretly had this crazy idea of making a robot best friend since you were a kid. The thought of having a robot who was there for you every waking moment felt like something you needed in your life, so it was time to make a crazy idea… a reality!

Traits:  Loves the Outdoors // Loner // Erratic

Aspiration:  Outdoor Enthusiast

Career:  Gardener

Goals:

join scouts club as a child and teen + get promoted to llamacorn scout (lvl.5)

master outdoor enthusiast aspiration (i give you permission to cheat sleep 5 nights in a tent - it’s quite annoying)

master gardening career (floral designer branch)

master gardening and flower arranging skill

complete the insect collection

have a pet cowplant

master herbalism skill (craft each recipe at least once - 13 recipes total)

master robotics skill and create your robot best friend

have 1 failed marriage and have at least 1 child w/ them

go into the deep woods > meet and befriend the hermit

Generation 13: Black

Ahh books… you love em! You always enjoyed a good read that could take you on a journey in a whole new fantasy world. So naturally starting a book club at school to share your love for reading was the thing to do. Thanks to the club it brought you your best friend, who you later fall in love with and get engaged to. Instead of going off to university like everyone else you got convinced to join the military, but that didn’t last long so you quit and went off to study psychology. Whilst away at uni you discovered the Encyclopedia Vampirica, and got extremely curious about vampires to the point you took a trip over to Forgotten Hollow to find out if they were real. You end up meeting a vampire who you become completely mesmerized with and fall in love so quick as if you were put under a spell. This is where you decide to ask “could I be turned into one?” Without hesitation their teeth sink into your neck and the process of you turning has begun. You decide to drop out of university and call off the engagement because you have fallen for another and want to live out your new vampire life. Becoming a Simlish online teacher was your only option after dropping out of uni, and with working from home you had more time to yourself so you started writing your own books. Unfortunately your job started to feel mundane, so you have the bright idea of running your own business! Not being able to have children has always upset you, but with your new powers creating your own vampire family is only one step away...

Traits:  Bookworm // Cheerful // Insider

Aspiration:  Master Vampire

Career:  Military/ Education/ Business Owner

Goals:

start a book club as a child and meet with them at least once a week

get engaged to your best friend shortly after aging up into a young adult

join the military career reach lvl 5, then quit

go off to university and study psychology - drop out after first semester

fall in love with a vampire and ask them to turn you

break off the engagement after you drop out of university

master bowling, vampire lore, and pipe organ skill

join the education career reach lvl 4, then quit (only work from home)

write and publish at least 5 books

complete the master vampire aspiration

don’t have kids or adopt - instead create a vampire family of sims you turn (at least 2)

run your own business

(optional if you want to end the legacy) burn to death from being exposed to sunlight

If you have decided to end your legacy here, congratulations on completing my not so berry extended! I hope you enjoyed the challenge, if you did, thank you for taking the time to give this a go! 

- Much love, Nicole ♥

#nsbe #nsb #not so berry extended #not so berry #neecxle

[iliveiloveiwrite]

make me be true, make me be blue // Anthony Bridgerton

A/N: As much as I love Benedict, I also love Anthony. The last part of this is extremely inspired by a scene from The Crown - let’s see if you can guess which one! Title: Harry Connick jr - It Had To Be You

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: arguing, an argument, lots of love and fluff, caring, established relationship, married couple, suggestiveness, female pronouns, use of word ‘wife’. 

Word count: 2.8k

As the season in London drew to a close, it could be seen on every face that they were tired of the dancing and the music and the lukewarm lemonade. It was never a comment on the talent of the musicians unless, perhaps, it was a Smythe-Smith musical. Their seasonal musical was never welcomed with much excitement, but very few could say no to the quartet of young women.

Nevertheless, whomever the artist may be, many were glad for the season to draw to a close. Sighing tiredly, you bid your goodbyes to the latest lady to draw you into conversation. Your lavender skirts swish gently under foot as you wander around the lavishly decorated ballroom, in search for your dear husband.

You spy his hair first; the dark brown hair standing a head taller than the rest of the men he currently spoke with. Repressing another tired sigh, you note that the elderly white-haired men Anthony was standing with were of large importance in society.

“The Revolution was over two decades ago, and it seems France traded in one monarch for another,” is what you hear as you sidle up to Anthony. He smiles down at you, hooking his arm through yours, before turning his attention back to the conversation.

Anthony nods along; his interest piqued but not to the point where he would happily contribute to the debate. Instead, he simply offers, “True, a king for an emperor.”

“Surely Napoleon is still in exile,” You comment lightly, eyebrows furrowing at the topic of conversation between the men. They would never see a day of war between them; having enough money between them meaning they would not have dress in a uniform. As such, there was no need for the conversation.

“Dear girl, Napoleon left Elba and landed back in Paris last week. Do you read the papers?” Lord Hugo states, a dismissive look on his face as if questioning your very presence in the conversation. He frowns at your comfortable stance next to your husband, wondering why you aren’t socialising with the other wives.

A flush heats your body; rising anger. Turning to Anthony, you squeeze the hand that rests on his forearm, a silent plea for help but your husband remains silent.

Ducking your head, you state through clenched teeth, “Pardon me, Lord Hugo. I must be making a round of the room; I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was neglecting my womanly duties.”

“As you should,” The Lord replies as you turn your back to him. You bristle from the comment, back straightening despite the corset designed to do such an action. It wouldn’t be long now until Anthony wrapped up the conversation; seeking you out through the crowd. For you however, the ball was over – nothing left to be said.

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

Stalking through the large house, you ignore the increasing calls of your husband. Having left the carriage in a hurry of skirts, silks and ribbons, Anthony had begun immediately calling your name – wanting you to stop and wait, to stop and listen.

Even the Butler remains silent as he catches a glimpse of your face and the thunderous expression it currently holds. Silently, the Butler offers a prayer for the wellbeing of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.

“You’re really going to remain silent?” Anthony calls from the bottom of the staircase, one foot poised on the bottom step, ready to launch himself upstairs at a moment’s call.

Pausing in your retreat, you throw a glare at your husband. A look that definitely shows you were not up for talking on the stairs.

Anthony nods, seemingly understanding this. “So it’s the silent treatment until we’re in our room,” He pauses, beginning the ascent to the bedroom he has shared with you since the first night of your marriage, “Understandable.”

You roll your eyes, walking away from the man that had managed to vex you so thoroughly.

Shoving open the door to your shared bedroom does little to siphon off some of the anger you feel. In fact, it only increases when you try to work the laces of your dress free by yourself, frustrated tears brewing in the corner of your eyes as you manoeuvre yourself into every position possible to try and free yourself.

Slumping at your dressing table, you come to realise that it was more humiliation that you felt.

Your husband was a marvellous man; intelligent, funny, respectful and incredibly handsome. Yet, he had moments where he could so fantastically obtuse.

The moment played in your mind on a constant loop; the words of disdain from the Lord, Anthony’s silence. A constant loop in your mind; it would be a while before your mind rested enough to let you have some peace.

Brushing your hands through your hair, you loosen the pins that keep in place, beginning the painstaking process of removing them. All the while thinking that if the night had gone better, Anthony would be the one removing them, offering you a kiss for each pin removed.

--------

Anthony had taken his time walking to the bedroom, running through the events of the evening, thinking where he might have gone wrong – said the wrong thing, done the wrong thing. He found the moment; realised what he had said or rather, what he hadn’t said, and how it had come across. Lord Hugo was an incredibly influential man, and whilst Anthony outranked him in his peerage, his youth made him all but an inexperienced whelp in Hugo’s eyes.

Hindsight was truly an excellent gift to possess. He should have said something; Hugo’s influence be damned. He should have spoken up; should have defended you.

Gently, he rests his forehead against the closed door of the bedroom. He takes a deep breath and places a hand on the wooden panel; desperate to reach through to you, but he knows that there is far more on your mind than comfort at this point.

Anthony enters the bedroom slowly, closing the door softly behind him. “Are you ready to talk me now, darling?” Anthony asks, voice soft but tone wary as he takes in your defeated state.

“You humiliated me in front of that odious man by staying silent.”

His eyes widen; truly unaware of such a misdeed taking place. “I didn’t know, truly.”

“That’s what hurts most, Anthony. This is not a marriage of equals, darling. I know you love me as much as I love you, but I have brought nothing to this marriage. I did not get the pleasure to go to university despite doing so well in my studies. I cannot travel freely, and I cannot speak my mind whenever I damn well please. There are going to be some topics that I am not going to be an expert on, but you can try your best not to defend me when I get things wrong.”

“Darling, I didn’t mean any harm.”

You sniffle, wiping away the few tears that have dared to fall. “I know you didn’t, yet it still happened.”

Anthony opens and closes his mouth, searching for something – anything – to say that could make this better, but nothing comes to mind, so nothing leaves his mouth.

A pained noise leaves your lips as you turn away from your husband, reaching for your face cream, your hairbrush – anything to keep your hands busy and the tears at bay.

Finally, a sigh is all you hear, and you figure that the conversation is done for the evening. A lingering kiss is placed to the top of your head before Anthony leaves the bedroom, presumably retiring to his study.

Once free of the confines your dress, you dress for bed, crawling under the covers. Running a hand down your face, you couldn’t help but hope Anthony would join you soon. Despite the anger you felt at the man, you couldn’t fall asleep without him next to you.

---------

You wake alone. Anthony’s side of the bed is ruffled; he had joined you an hour after you had slide under the covers. He hadn’t said anything; he had simply gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly, pressing apologetic kiss after apologetic kiss to whatever piece of bare skin he could reach.

Stretching a hand to his side of the bed, the sheets are cold. Reaching for his pillow, you hold it to your face, inhaling the spiciness of whatever cologne he used last night. Keeping the pillow close, you turn onto your back, thinking over the events of last night.

You had every right to be annoyed; you had every right to feel the way you did. If this was a different society, you would not rely on Anthony to defend you – you would have spoken your mind to Lord Hugo. But this was not a different society, and its trappings were stifling. For the hope of future generations, you couldn’t help but pray things would soon change.

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

The day moves slowly. Tea with Anthony’s mother and sisters followed by a visit to the modiste. No sign of Anthony with every visit home and your mood drops with every shake of the Butler’s head.

Eventually, you find refuge in the library, searching through the books and the papers there. It had been so long since you had read something that was not a romance. Pride and Prejudice had been published just two years ago and you had read it countless times; enjoying the author’s way with words and her creation of Mr. Darcy. However, instead of picking up the latest romance, you chose to return to the books you had so adored in your education – historical accounts of past monarchs and their reigns, accounts of wars.

It was not for the sake of Lord Hugo who sneered at you with such derision; it was for your benefit. Knowledge was free and you owned the library through marriage, why shouldn’t you take a look?

-----------

The Butler clearing his throat is what brings your attention back to the present. Having lost yourself so freely in an account of the witch hunts that had plagued the north of England; the book had caught your eye, tucked away and gathering dust. The subject had immediately caught your interest, and you soon found yourself searching for all the books you could on the subject.

Smiling sheepishly at the Butler, you ask, “Have some guests arrived? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

He shakes his head, smiling fondly at you, “I thought you would like to know that the Viscount has returned home. He is currently in his study.”

Standing from your chair, you deposit your book on a table before thanking the Butler and rushing up the stairs to Anthony’s study. You pause just outside the door, gathering yourself, tidying your appearance and slowing your breathing to an acceptable rate.

Knocking on the door, your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear his warm voice giving you permission to enter.

Anthony freezes in his chair when he sees you enter his study. Your eyes are bright and there’s a faint flush to your skin that has Anthony’s eyes raking over your body, curious to know what’s caused such a reaction in you.

“Darling,” He greets, voice kind and warm.

“Darling,” You reply, watching the smile grow across his face when he hears the fondness in your voice.

“How has your day been?” Anthony asks, drawing out the inevitable conversation.

You smile widely, “I spent most of it in the library, reading.”

“A new romance novel?”

You shake your head, smoothing down the skirts of your sage green dress, “The trials of the Berwick and Pendle witches.”

Anthony’s eyes widen almost comically. “I didn’t even know we had books on the topic.”

“Neither did I, but I’ve been reading through the accounts all day. It truly is fascinating. Did you know History was my strongest subject when I was in education?”

Again, Anthony shakes his head. He didn’t know; he hadn’t asked. You shrug, “Arithmetic, Geography, Latin… They never grasped me as much as History did. I would read for hours about whatever I could find: the Tudors, the Saxons, military strategy…” At the further widening of Anthony’s eyes, you continue, “I suppose as I grew older and I was then out as a debutante, I lost the habit.”

“Perhaps,” Anthony murmurs before saying, “You can always find the habit again.”

You smile widely; the grin brightening your face as it stretches to your eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that darling,” You begin, “I want to be more involved, Anthony. I don’t want to be a silent partner; I want to be there; I want to comment. I want to know what is happening with foreign affairs whether it is Napoleon or the price of tea. I want to know because I want to be on a more equal footing with you. I refuse to be humiliated that way again; it was awful, to be dismissed in that manner by that loathsome man.”

You stand before your husband, chest heaving in your restrictive dress. The words lay loud in the room; your plea for Anthony to speak up for you, your demand for further equality in your marriage.

“I called on Lord Hugo this afternoon,” Anthony states rather plainly after you fall silent, as if the meeting had been in his date book for months.

“You did?” You frown at him; wondering whether he had heard a single word that you had flung into the great expanse.

He nods. “He was rather surprised to see me. I’ll admit I didn’t plan on calling on him, but I kept thinking of last night and how destroyed you looked. I don’t ever want to see that look on your face again for as long as I shall live. So,” He shrugs, “I paid the Lord a visit.”

“How did it go?”

Anthony holds his right up and it is then that you see the dark purple now beginning to bruise his knuckles. “I may have lost my temper when I remembered how he spoke to you and how you felt afterwards,” Anthony pauses and then laughs loudly, “And I may have punched him in the face.”

“Anthony!” You berate, repressing the urge to roll your eyes at your ever vexing husband. “Is anything broken?”

He shakes his head, smiling widely, “Only Hugo’s nose.”

“My hero,” You drawl, heart racing as you take in the man that you married. The smart, brilliant and hot-headed man that you promised your forever to who had defended your honour against the man who had rudely spoken to you last night. He grins cheekily at your words, wiggling his fingers to show you that there was nothing broken – he was fine.

“You can read whatever you’d like,” He states firmly, “You can study whatever you like. Humiliate the man if there’s a next time.”

“Thank you,” You reply, holding your head high as you smile gratefully at the love of your life.

Anthony stands from his chair, having now recovered from the shock of your speech and the ease of which he can accept your demands. He had never been the easiest man to get along with; stubborn and set in his ways long before he ought to have been, but you had taken him in your stride, loving him just as fiercely as he loved you.

He rounds the desk. All the while his gaze does not leave yours. A sensual smile spreads across his face as he watches you wring your hands together – a nervous tic if there ever was any.

Leaning against the desk, Anthony crosses his ankles, resting hands upon the lip of his desk. He remains happy in the knowledge that even after the honeymoon period of your marriage was over, you would still track his every move. Your eyes dancing over his figure as he rests his weight upon the desk.

“There’s something different about you,” He finally says, breaking the silence of the room.

“Oh?” You whisper, your shoulders rolling back as you try to think about what could have changed – a new dress? A new attitude?

“You’re surer of yourself. It makes you look taller.”

“I don’t particularly think I’ve gained any height.”

“Perhaps not,” Anthony allows; a seductive smile on his face as he tilts his head to one side, regarding you. “But it presents me with two options.”

“And they are?”

“Well,” He begins, running a hand through his thick hair, “I could go and find a ladder to reach the new height of my tall wife or…”

Anthony trails off, leaving you in suspense as you find yourself taking those first few steps closer to him. Desperate to be in his arms, to be touched by the man you love - body and soul.

“Or…” You breathe; voice raspy with growing need.

“Or” Anthony beams, “She can get on her knees.”

***********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagines

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18​’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

 The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. 

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again. 

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out. 

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him. 

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married. 

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'. 

It made you want to puke. 

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared. 

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth. 

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him. 

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby. 

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!" 

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him. 

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out. 

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line. 

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault. 

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him. 

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you. 

He didn’t even make it to the hospital. 

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free. 

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder. 

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default. 

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars.  Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better. 

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink. 

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences. 

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.” 

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt. 

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[nashibirne]

Gimme Shelter - 5

Here comes chapter 5. Expect a little romance and fluff! Our protagonists even start to flirt 😏 I hope you enjoy the next part of their story! If so, please let me know and leave a comment, like or reblog. Thanks 💜

You can find parts 1 - 4 and my other fics on my masterlist

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Kat Spencer)

Words: ~3.3k

Summary: Henry has to deal with a personal crisis and he finds shelter with his old rugby mate Sam and his sister Kat. She used to be Henry’s best friend a very long time ago. Will they be able to become friends again or maybe even more?

Chapter 5: A walk on the coast path, a flirt and a sweet encounter

Warnings: RPF, mention of mental health issues

Unbeta'ed. English isn't my first language. Mistakes ahead and they're all mine.

Disclaimer: I don’t know the real Henry Cavill or anyone who's related to him in any way, this is pure fiction and nothing more

Credits: Pics for the moodboard from Pinterest. Face claims: Kat = Jennifer Connelly

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @fadingkittenfun @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen

Ready? Let's go.

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Over the next few days Kat and Henry got closer and closer. They had long conversations almost every day that were so very helpful for both of them and they felt that the bond between them, this strong connection they had all these years ago and that had been cut off so abruptly, was rebuilding slowly. It was almost like back in the days. Kat and Henry against the rest of the world.

Kat helped Henry to sort out his thoughts, to make decisions and plans without taking responsibility away from him. She didn't make it easy for him by taking over control or telling him what to do. All she did was listen, sharing her view on things and giving him advice and she did it in a way that made it easy for Henry to see where he wanted to go with his life in the future. She didn't judge, she didn't criticize, she just gave him her opinion and support and that was all he was asking for. 

On day 8 after the treehouse talk Henry was brooding over a text he wanted to publish. A statement for his fans, the media, the public in general but it wasn't so easy to get the tone right and to explain enough to make his latest actions relatable without giving up too much of his privacy. He closed his laptop with a sigh and rubbed his tired eyes when it knocked on the door. 

"Come in." he said, hoping it was Kat and his wish came true.

"Hey." Kat greeted him with a bright smile and joined him at the kitchen table. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I'm not very productive today."

"So maybe you need a distraction? What about a walk on the coast path? The weather is lovely and I'm really in need of some fresh air. Wanna join me?"

Kat flinched when Mr. Darcy jumped onto her lap out of the blue. "Heavens, Darce...you're gonna give me a heart attack one day." The cat ignored her fond scolding and curled up into a ball on her thighs, clearly demanding a bit of tender loving care that she gave him with an amused smile. "I haven't seen him downstairs in days."

"Cat got your tongue?" Kat stood up with a smirk and Henry was sure she was swaying her hips more than usual when she went to the door. "Come on, Cavill. Let's go." 

Henry chuckled. "Yeah, it seems he's moved in with us. He sleeps with Kal in my bed every night. I think he's in love." Kat grinned. "Well, I can't blame him. Who wouldn't fall in love with a smart, sexy hunk and his furry companion." She gave him a flirtatious wink and now Henry was the one feeling like having a heart attack.

This was new. She'd never flirted with him before. All their banter was of friendly nature, sarcastic and funny but not flirty. He wanted to give her a witty answer, make a sexy remark but his mind went blank. All he was able to think about was how badly he wanted to touch and kiss her and so he opened his mouth but not a single word came out.

Kat's heart was racing when they left the house and walked down the road that led to the coast path side by side. It was obvious that her cheeky remark had caught him off guard but she wasn't sure if he considered her move good or bad. It had taken all her courage to try and flirt with him and his reaction left her a little clueless. It was not like she didn't know how to flirt. She did and she loved a sexy flirtatious banter. She wasn't shy and she also was aware of the fact that she was attractive but when it came to Henry everything was different. She turned into an insecure teenager again, helplessly in love and completely confused.

Just don't make the same mistakes again. Her thoughts wandered back to the night she'd spend with Eli after the city festival. When she went home with him she wanted to have sex with him, she really did but it didn't work. Whenever she closed her eyes and kissed him she saw Henry and the way he had looked at her when they were dancing slowly. Elijah soon noticed that something was off and he connected the dots quickly. He was very sweet and instead of being pissed he made coffee and they sat down and talked. Kat told him about her and Henry, all about their past, about Poppy, the heartbreak, her feelings for him, just everything. When she was finished Eli gave her a grin. "Well, I've been dumped for worse guys than Henry Cavill. I mean, even I wouldn't say no to him and I'm straight as fuck."

Kat chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Thank you for your understanding. I just don't know how to deal with my feelings. I don't even understand the nature of these feelings."

"The nature? You're falling for him again. And judging by the way he looked at you and the death stares he was giving me all night, I'd say he feels the same way." Eli shrugged as if it was as clear as day. "And you should really grasp at that second chance."

Kat sighed. "I don't know. What if he hurts me again?"

"You're not sixteen anymore. I'm sure he's learned his lesson and so have you. Just don't fuck it up this time, Kat."

"Excuse me? I didn't fuck it up back then." She looked at him flabbergasted.

"Come on, you know what I mean. Just don't make the same mistakes again." Eli took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Yeah, he was a total ass and treated you badly. He lied to you. I get that. But you never gave him a hint that you have feelings for him. You took him for granted, Kat. You thought he'd always be there for you exclusively, that you are the only girl in his life and that you could afford to keep him in the dark about your feelings. You had this romantic idea in your head. You and him, the ball, the romance, a dance, a kiss, a confession but you never even considered that he liked you too but moved on because you'd friendzoned him. Truth is you didn't dare to tell him that you're in love with him and it backfired and hit you hard."

Kat started to chew on her lip. "Yeah. Maybe you're right." 

"And if I may add one thing. You're 38. You're beautiful and smart but you're still single. You said it yourself, none of the men you meet can live up to your expectations. You've never met 'the one'. What if Henry's been the one for you all along?"

And that was the question that was running around in her mind ever since Elijah had posed it. Was it possible? Was Henry the one for her?

"This way?" Henry's voice interrupted her thoughts. He pointed at a path that turned off to the left. "Yes." Kat smiled at him sheepishly and Henry gave her a funny look.  "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, sure. I was just lost in thought. Sorry."

"Thinking about hot hunks, huh?" He smirked and it was ridiculously sexy. Kat's heart jumped with joy when she realized that he was flirting back.

"More about their cute companions." Kat laughed out loud with relief and joy. "Come on, Kal." She clapped her hands and started to run down the path, the American Akita following close behind, wagging his tale with excitement. She looked back over her shoulder with a grin. "What are you waiting for, Hen. Are you afraid you can't keep up with me?"

"Don't try me." Henry laughed and ran after her, chasing her down the path, playfully imitating a roaring bear. Kat was surprisingly fast and he indeed had problems keeping up with her. He wasn't a sprinter, his body wasn't really made for running though he did it for cardio regularly. So he had stamina but he wasn't very fast. Kat on the other hand was agile and quick and she took the rocky path effortlessly, it was a treat for the eyes. He knew she liked trail running and her smooth motions showed him that she did this often. When he finally caught up with her she flashed him a smile and slowed down. They came to a halt, both panting and laughing at the same time. "We better walk now. I'm too old for running away from a man as fit as you." Kat bent her upper body down and supported herself with her hands on her knees. Henry grinned. "You're way too fast for me. You ran like a bat out of hell."

They both burst out laughing again for no real reason and it felt so good to be childish and just a little silly. Henry was so comfortable, so much like himself, when he was with her it made him feel whole again. She was the antidepressant he really needed. 

"What about some climbing instead of running?" 

"Climbing? Jesus, Kat, are you trying to wear me out?"

"Well, it's not really climbing. The trail is just a little rockier and steeper than the regular one." Kat pointed at a path that was overgrown and led upwards to what seemed to be a cliff.

"What's up there? A make-out spot?" He asked, grinning cheekily.

"Dream on." Kat raised an eyebrow and her smile was sexy and amused at the same time. "Just an amazing view on the bay from the top of the cliff."

"It's closed off." Henry looked at the chain that blocked the trail with a frown.

"Yes...but we can take it anyway. That's not a problem."

"The sign says 'no trespassing', Kat."

She sighed. "I know but this is more for the tourists. There have been some minor accidents. Someone broke his leg or something. So they closed it off...insurance stuff and such...you know how it is. It's nothing,  I've been there many times."

Henry still wasn't convinced. "It can still be dangerous and what if we get caught?"

"Sorry." She mumbled avoiding his gaze. 

Kat laughed. "No risk, no fun. Come on now, Pop." She froze before she blushed furiously.

"Pop, huh?" Henry's lips turned up into a mocking grin. Pop had been her nickname for him at school. Whenever he'd tried to tell her what to do or to keep her from doing things he considered too dangerous or simply inappropriate she had teased him with this name to make clear that he sounded like her father. And so he became Pop just like she became Kitty.

"No worries, Kat. I like the sound of it. Actually I get called daddy a lot these days." Her eyes met his and he wiggled his eyebrows with a teasing smirk. Kat's confidence was back and she gave him a lopsided grin and a wink before she climbed over the chain. "Well, I guess I better behave then...daddy."

20 minutes later they were sitting side by side on top of the cliff, Kal lying at Henry's feet and Kat hadn't promised too much. The view was spectacular. "That's fantastic, Kat." 

"Yeah. It never ceases to amaze me, every time I come here, again and again."

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, staring at the ocean. Kat's legs touched his and the physical closeness awoke the butterflies inside of him. He turned to her, admiring her pretty face. "Thanks for taking me here." She looked at him with a smile. "I knew you'd love it. I've been here many times thinking of you, wishing you were with me, like you're with me now." Her voice got weaker with every word and she bit her lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Henry's heart started to race when he realized what her words meant. She had never stopped thinking about him just like he had never been able to forget her. He took her hand and pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles. She let it happen, she even closed her eyes. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than by your side, Kitty." He knew it was a bold move to call her that after her reaction the other day but she didn't seem to mind. "That's good to know, Pop."

She opened her eyes again and they shared a shy smile. Henry didn't let go of her hand, he even started to stroke it with his thumb tenderly. Kat's gaze fell on his lips and they both leaned in slowly. Their lips were just about to meet in a tender kiss when they heard suppressed giggles from behind. They turned around and saw two girls who were standing behind a rock, watching them. They were nine maybe ten years old and really cute. "Hey, you nosy little rascals. Are you observing us?" Henry scolded them playfully, laughing out loud and Kat couldn't help but join in. 

"What about your dog? Don't you go to work?" Nelly asked.

"We were observing your dog. It looks like a bear." The taller girl said with a confident smile. She had beautiful, thick, red hair and reminded Kat very much of Anne Shirley from 'Anne with an E'. "What's your name?" she asked. "I'm Nelly and this is my bestie Laura." The other girl giggled again and waved at them but she didn't say a word. "Would you want to pet my dog? His name is Kal." Henry gave them an encouraging smile and they nodded eagerly. "Come on, Kal. Meet Nelly and Laura." Kal got up and greeted the girls like the friendly dog he just was and they kneeled down to stroke his soft fur.

"I want a dog too, but my parents say no." Laura said and she pouted her lips. "I'm sure they have good reasons." Henry explained. "A dog requires a lot of time." "Yeah. That's what my parents say. They don't have time for a dog because they both have to work." She rolled her big brown eyes, never stopping to pet Kal who enjoyed the love he received.

"Your parents are very reasonable . You wouldn't want your dog to be sad, would you?" "No." She shook her head vehemently. "Of course not." "See, but dogs are sad when they have to be alone all day." She nodded and sighed. "Oh, okay."

"I'm lucky. I can take Kal with me when I work." Henry gave her a bright smile but she seemed sceptical. "Really? Must be a very strange job, when you can bring your dog."

"It is a strange job, you're right, Nelly, but I love it anyway." And for the first time in months, he felt it. He loved his job and he was a lucky man.

After the sweet encounter with Nelly and Laura the intimate moment was ruined and the sexual tension was gone but Kat and Henry were still in a good mood and they went back home chatting lightheartedly.

"You were great with the girls. Did you never think about having kids?" 

Henry gave Kat a surprised look.

"Of course I did. I'd love to have a bunch of children but I guess I'd need a woman first."

"I don't think there's a lack of women in your life." 

"No, of course not. There were many of them but never the one to start a family with."

Now it was Kat who was surprised. "You have never been in a serious relationship? Never made plans to settle down? I'm sorry if this a stupid question but I've always avoided reading about your private life in the media…"

"It's not stupid at all. What you can read about my private life is mostly bullshit anyway." Henry let out a snort. "But no, I've never been really serious with a woman. I was engaged once but that was a very stupid idea. I was young and foolish…"

"But why? I mean, you're perfect husband material."

"Yeah, for gold diggers and attention whores." He rolled his eyes. "I don't know, it's always the same. I meet a woman, I fall fast and hard and after a few weeks I wake up from this romantic vision I had of her and me and there's nothing left...I lose interest or she gets bored with me and that's it. It has always been like this. I'm just not able to find a woman that completes me." He shrugged. "What about you? Why are you still single?" 

Kat took a deep breath. "Pretty much the same actually. There have been a few men, short relationships, but it never lasted. All of them tried to turn me into something I'm not. A trophy wife, a housewife, a mistress…but none of them could make me feel at home with them."

"They must have been idiots. Why would anybody try to change you. You're great the way you are." Henry said, shaking his head in disbelief. "What about Jim?"

Kat smiled. "Jim was indeed different. We had a great time but after four years we grew apart. I was so young, 23, I wanted to travel, to see the world, he was 30 and wanted to settle down and start a family. That's why we broke up and it was the right thing to do. We're still friends and he has a great family now."

"Seems we were right when we were moping teenagers and said we're never going to find true and everlasting love. Do you remember? Kitty and Pop..the lonely heart club?"

"Of course. All these sad poems we wrote and you were so great at reciting them." Kat laughed softly at the memory. "God, we were so pathetic with our self-pity."

"Yeah, we were. But eventually you fell for Aaron."

"Love is a big word for what Poppy and I had in those 6 months we were together." Henry looked at his hands, his fingers were fumbling with the ring on his pinky. Guilt washed over him whenever he talked about Poppy in Kat's presence. "I guess I didn't even know what love is when I was with her. Maybe I still don't."

Kat cocked her head looking at him. Yes, after you broke my heart, was what she was thinking. "I did. He was my byronic hero. He saved me..." was what she was saying. "And you loved Poppy."

"You must have loved your girlfriends."

Henry shrugged. "I have but...I don't know…"

"You loved them and at the same time you knew they weren't the one. Something was always missing…."

Kat spoke out what he was thinking but couldn't express.

He looked at her, nodding his head. "Exactly."

"Yeah. Same here. Aren't we the lucky ones?" Kat gave him a sarcastic grin. "We should resurrect the lonely hearts club."

The way she tried to shrug off the topic all of the sudden showed him that it had gotten under her skin. Deep. He smirked and gave her a wink. "Count me in."

Kat looked at him with a frown. "Really? I was actually joking."

"Why not. Could be fun to take a stroll down memory lane."

"You're right. Let's do it. First meeting on Saturday night? At the woodhouse?" 

"Sounds like a plan. I better start searching the internet for some sad, dramatic poems."

"And I'm going to compile a playlist." 

"Deal." Henry offered Kat his hand for a handshake and she took it grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Deal."

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tbc

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill rpf #rpf #henry cavill slow burn #slow burn fic

[divinefireangel]

You are my Honey and my Forever Moon

SF9 Inseong x Wife! Reader Fluffy Smut.

ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: I finally got to finishing this request!! 🥳 Not gonna lie I kinda like this one lol. I have a free day tomorrow so let's hope I post tomorrow as well🤞

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Tbh all can read it. Soft sex. Unprotected sex (just don't do this unless you want kids). Probably slow burn I'm not sure. Sexy but soft Inseong 😂. Lmk if I need to add more! Italics is flashback.

Requested: YES. By our fav @inseongsfoxybae

Hey, babe Sush 🥰🥰🥰 Can I request something?

Would you mind writing a honeymoon scenario with Seongie? Smuty and with a lot of softness at the same time 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh babe I hope you like it and that this makes your day a lil better 💞❣

1.8k Words

Staring down at your left ring finger, you traced the new golden band that your finger adorned. Smiling, you remember the moment that changed your life forever. Finally, you were each other's happily ever after. How did you get so lucky to have Kim Inseong fall in love with you, you'll never know. But what you do know, is that there is no one in the world whom you can love as much as him.

You remember the look he gave you just before you got wedded, standing opposite you holding your hands in his, that always fit together like a puzzle, the moment in which you knew, there is no one who will love you as much as him. Seeing his love filled expression, reminded you of every single time he looked at you like that. The first time he saw you on your first date, the first time he saw you all glamed up, the first time he saw your natural perfections, the first time he saw you naked, the first time he kissed you, the first time he smiled at you, the first time he smiled because of you, the first time you made him laugh, the first time he saw you laugh, the first time he saw you dance your little happy dance because you got your favourite food, the first time you told him you loved him, the first time you held him when he cried, the first time you let him sleep on top of you after a long day and the first time he realized you were the one he was looking for his entire life.

And since all those firsts, he's looked at you the same way. Because he doesn't know how else to look at you. You, his soulmate, his eternal love, his forever and forevermore.

Gathering the crowd's attention, the officiate began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are present here, to experience the blessed union of Ms. Y/N L/N and Mr. Kim Inseong. As I start, I have a passage to read, written by me, about falling in love.

When you hear the word falling, it's generally assumed to be a neutral word. No one prefers to fall willingly. But falling in love, is one of the purest ways to use the word falling. Not a single person is scared of falling like this. Falling from a height of course is scary for most." The crowd laughs at this remark. Smiling, the officiate continued.

"Well now really when we go back then to falling in love. And say it's crazy. We don't say rising into love. The moment you enter any kind of human undertaking relationship, you've given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done. Surrender, you see. And love, is an act of surrender to another person. I give myself to you.

These two young people standing here, in front of each other, have surrendered themselves to one another, creating a strong bond, and I pray, that it only gets stronger with time." Staring into each other's teary yet love filled eyes, Y/N and Inseong slipped on a band on their ring fingers to indicate their eternal love.

"What are you thinking about my love? " Handing you a glass of champagne, your husband asked you.

"Just..... Us. "

"Us? " He questions chuckling, sitting next to you on the couch in your hotel room, which is rented for your honeymoon.

Humming a yes, you lean in to kiss him. Meeting you halfway, Inseong attached your lips together, as a hand stroked your hair.

"Don't you want to change into your nightwear? " Tilting your head innocently, you looked at your husband in curiosity.

"I kinda have other plans." He said sheepishly grinning at your confused demeanour. Placing the two identical glasses on a table nearby, Inseong grabs your face gently with both his hands, connecting your lips again.

Carefully he moves his hands to your hair, trying to find for things that may hurt you when you laid down on the bed. Removing the U pins from your hairbun, he slowly lets your hair down. Breaking the kiss completely, staring at your with a soft smile, warming your heart, he moves to remove your earrings and other jewelry.

Chewing in anticipation on your bottom lip, you lift your fingers to unbutton the buttons of his dress shirt. This action isn't something foreign to either of you, having done this multiple times before in the past. But this time, today, right now, is just more softer, more intimate.

By the time you finish his dress shirt, he's already pulled down the zipper of your dress.

Admiring you again, he moves his hand to the side of your face, slowly pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Moving the same hand to the back of your head, he tilts your head up, engulfing your lips again in a needy kiss. A kiss of this type from him never fails to make you lose balance, lose your sense of presence of mind and makes you aroused enough to close your eyes as a your lower abdomen starts heating up for attention.

Breathing into each other, you stand up taking his hand and pull him towards the bed, stopping at its foot. Slowly you slide off him shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. Looking up at him through your lashes, you bite your lower lip, as you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. How can you not be wet when you have such a sexy husband? Smirking a little, Inseong traces your skin from your neck to your shoulders to your back, gliding your dress down near his shirt. Taking your delicate hands in his, he gazes down your body, the tent forming in his pants approving your pretty lingerie. How did he get so lucky to have found you. You goddess of a being, so in love with him, a mere man who worships you more than anything.

Placing your hands around his neck, he leans down to kiss your lush lips, as his hands go down your body, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra, and settling on your waist for a moment, before going down to reach the back of your thighs. Lifting you up without breaking the kiss, Inseong kneels on the bed as your legs wrap around him in instinct. Laying you down lovingly on the bed, your husband looks into your eyes, with that sweet look of his. For him although, he feels like he is looking at you for the first time ever, starting from your forehead to the distance between your eyebrows, to your cute nose and to your parted lips, waiting to be kissed again.

Swallowing in the sight below, his lips find themselves at the base of your jaw. Sucking there lightly, Inseong rolls his hips such that his clothed length rubs against your core. Even with so many layers you could feel the outline of his dick. Kissing down till your neck and collarbone, he continues to grind into you, groaning when he feels your nails scratch his back.

Gasping at a sudden forceful thrust, you wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Detaching his lips from your body, he sits on his knees, looking down at your, enjoying the view of you in your loving needy state. Making eye contact, he unbuckles his belt removing it sexily, followed by his pants and boxers. Placing his hands on your bent knees, he moves his torso up as his hands glide freely from your knees through the top of your thighs, coming to a still on your hips.

Leaning down, Inseong kisses your lips again, as his fingertips trace the upper elastic of your panties. Grabbing ahold of them, he peels your panties down your legs and throws it to the side. One of his hands comes next to your head to support himself up as he stays close to you, kissing till you run out of air in your lungs, while the other takes liberty to part your folds.

Sighing into your mouth, he spreads your wetness from your entrance to your clit, giving it a few strokes to stimulate you more. Moaning into the kiss, you silently beg for more, wanting more, more of him in you, taking you to paradise.

Removing his fingers from your folds, he breaks the kiss just to rile you up more by sucking them as his eyes never left yours. Biting your lip you look at him with pleading eyes. Dropping his cockiness at your cuteness, he slowly guides the head of his cock to your entrance, nudging it in little by little, letting you get used to his size. Pecking your forehead repeatedly Inseong bottoms out into you. Stilling for a moment, he takes your hand in his free hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles.

Melting at this sweet gesture, you intertwine your fingers together, as your eyes close overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock starting to move back and forth, in and out of you slowly. Petting your hair with the hand that's next to your head, Inseong joins your lips again, but only for a small kiss. He then proceeds to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your eyebrows, your eyelids, your chin, your jaw, your forehead and back to your lips, all while rutting his pelvis against yours in a loving pace.

This isn't the first time he's made love to you. He's done that multiple times and more. But now, you are his wife and he wants nothing but to take care of you and your burdens and to keep you happy. He wants to spoil you in every way possible. He wants you fulfilled to the maximum extent, and he will do anything for you and your future together to be as perfect as possible.

Moaning his name, when you feel yourself coming closer to the edge, you clench your walls around him. Shuddering in response, he increases his pace to help you both have a blissful orgasm. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he squeezes your intertwined fingers looking back up into your eyes, wordlessly conveying that he is close. So so close to you.

"I love you" He whispers roughly, feeling his release approaching.

"I love you too" You gasp as you tighten your legs around him, clenching your walls as you come undone below your lover. Repeating your name as if it's the only word he knows, Inseong comes down slowly from his high, falling on top of you as slowly as he can.

Pressing your foreheads together, you catch your breath, hugging each other. Setting his head in between your shoulder and neck, Inseong starts to feel drowsy. How cute, you think fondly as you wrap your arms securely around you lover, your husband, playing with his hair as he drifts to sleep with you in his arms, and you following him soon after.

#sf9 #inseong #inseong smut #inseong x reader #inseong x reader smut #sf9 inseong #sf9 imagines #sf9 fluff #sf9 scenarios #sf9 x reader #sf9 reactions #sf9 x reader smut #sf9 oneshots #kim inseong #inseong fluffy smut #husband!inseong #sf9 smut

[skellebonez]

Tumblr Messed Up Fill #3

Ok, let's continue on with the accidental published fills! @xblacksilver I hope you like this, it's a bit less fluffy than I wanted it to be but I needed to continue my SilkTea fic and this couldn't leave my mind!

It was the fourth time Huntsman had seen the ship, the third time he had set foot on it willingly... and the first time he had come for no reason at all.

Oh, he tried to make one up. Parts for the new spider mech? Well, once he had delivered what Sandy had proffered for him Syntax made quick work on improvements to the bots to hunt out more and better materials. Tea? Nope, Sandy had apparently snuck multiple bags into his coat pocket without his knowledge (sneaky bastard). He had nothing to inform him of, he’d laid everything out on the table.

So why was he here?

Try as he might, Huntsman could not think of a single reasonable explanation for why he found himself on the bow of Sandy’s boat. At 7 PM. In the daylight.

Except, well, that was a blatant bold faced lie. He could think of one.

But he would rather face the Ruyi Jingu Bang, literally face it as it was about to slam into him, than admit that he was here just because he wanted to see the other man.

And yet here he was.

Sitting on Sandy’s couch and enjoying yet another cup of tea while being accosted by his many many cats. He didn’t bother to remove them this time, his normal clothes long since abandoned elsewhere in favor of some simple pants and a turtleneck sweater. Despite how warm it got outside he never seemed to keep nearly enough body heat in himself to wear anything less... and he would be lying to himself if he didn’t find some comfort in the body heat of the felines against his sides and neck.

He could do without the fur but this was probably as good as he was going to get.

Sandy had welcomed him inside with only a little surprise, looking around to see if they were alone before gesturing for the spider demon to come in and take his now usual spot (usual spot, he did not want to unpack what that meant in his head), before going to make the tea they now shared between them.

“Is there something you need?” Sandy had asked, so non-confrontational and curious that Huntsman fought with himself to find a reasonable excuse instead of just blurting out the truth against his better judgement.

“Just to get out of the lair for a while,” was his answer. And it wasn’t entirely a lie.

He did want to get out, go somewhere else. Syntax didn’t need his assistance for the bots any more than Goliath needed his assistance building the mech itself. And Spider Queen was content enough overseeing the two of them that he felt... unneeded at the moment.

They never said that to him, and it didn’t make him feel upset or lesser. It was just a fact. Huntsman was not needed at the moment and was free to do as he pleased not that his part in rebuilding the mech was finished for the moment.

So he just... chose to come here. Told them he was going on a reconnaissance mission for information and that he didn’t know when he’d be back, just to cover himself as best he could.

They believed him, oddly enough. Except maybe Syntax believed him a bit less, a sharp reminder to keep the communicator watch he had just built for the four of them on him in case of an emergency.

They sat in blissful silence for a few minutes just enjoying tea and the warmth of the cats. And for a moment Huntsman thought that would be enough for him.

Until Sandy asked "Who are you, exactly?" out of the blue, making Huntsman blink and look at him in confusion.

"You know who I am," he replied with a raised brow and an off kilter smile. This was certainly not the direction he expected any conversation to take at all. "Why ask a question you already know the answer to?"

"I don't," Sandy said with more firmness in his tone than the agile old spider had heard from him in a long while. Granted, they had only had three real conversations before now. "I know your name is Huntsman. That you're a hunter. You work for the Spider Queen and that you're working against the White Bone Spirit. But I don't know who you are."

Oh.

OH.

“Th-that’s not exactly important,” Huntsman tried to argue, stuttering on his words despite himself. Why would such a simple request make him feel so... awkward? “Because there isn’t much else to me than that!”

“You enjoy Osmanthus flower tea,” Sandy said, crossing his arms as he looked at the other with a softening expression. “Paired with sour candy. You look at my cats like they’re annoying but you let them literally walk all over you. You could have simply ignored my offer and gone about your life the way it was before but you chose not to. You came to me for help. That’s a lot ‘much else’ to me.”

Maybe it was the way Sandy said it, so serious but soft at the same time. Maybe it was the wording of the last sentence. Maybe it was because he finally realized how ridiculous this entire situation was and that he had put himself into it intentionally despite his lack of understanding why he did it. Maybe it was because no one else had ever listed out the weird stuff he did so plainly.

But Huntsman laughed. Not the same wheezy chuckle or the smarmy nastily snicker he’d let be heard by the Monkie Kid or his companions. But a proper laugh that bubbled up from his chest and took over his form like a tidal wave.

He wrapped his arms around his stomach, not used to the sudden pain that laughing heartily could cause in his rib cage, and did his best to cease the laughter as quickly as possible.

“I’m sorry but “that’s a lot ‘much else’ to me”?” He snickered, choosing to go with the second option for his laughter. “That sounds like something Goliath would say, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Goliath?” Sandy asked, now looking more confused than anything else before he brightened. “Oh! You mean the big guy on your side!”

“He may look scary, but let me tell you...” Huntsman leaned in conspiratorially, whispering the rest of his sentence. “He’s almost as much of a softie as you are when you get past him tough mask for our Queen.”

“Oh?” Sandy smiled even brighter, not as soft as his other secret smile but just as genuine, and Huntsman felt his chest (his heart) thump at it once again. “What about the other guy? What’s his name?”

“Syntax? Oh, the things I could tell you about him!”

~

It was funny. Huntsman didn’t find himself hesitating in the slightest as he regaled Sandy about his little Spider Demon group at all. Once again he wondered if the man had access to some kind of truth serum, but again he remembered he started this without anything that could have been attached to one.

There was just... something about the man. About his home. The smell of the tea and the warmth so much greater than his lair home. It just made him... at ease.

So at ease that he had completely lost track of time until they’d gone through multiple cups of tea and snacks and Huntsman realized it was well past sundown.

“You can stay here if you need to,” Sandy offered, just as out of the blue as his initial question that started his lost time tracking.

But as awkward as Huntsman thought the idea of staying would be... he couldn’t find himself declining the offer. He was tired, after all, and the couch was here while home was far away in the cold of the evening. And he would have to chance before returning, to hide the evidence of where he had been.

So he found himself laying on Sandy’s couch, warm and content and staring at the ceiling and worrying about what this meant for him. He was good at going with the flow, that’s what hunters did. They followed their prey, went with their flow, until they snared them. But Huntsman wasn’t tracking Sandy at all, he was just... going along with him.

Maybe he had a subconscious desire to get him on their side so the Monkie Kid was less likely to fight against them and rather with them against their mutual foe. Maybe that was all it was.

Or maybe there was something else that he just refused to even acknowledge was even there.

He jumped at something vibrated against his wrist, completely forgetting about the communicator that Syntax had told him to wear. He wasn’t as adept with tech as the others, but after a little fiddling he got the hand of the thing and realized that he had been sent a text message on it.

From... Syntax.

“Since you have not returned I can only deduce that you are either deceased or have found a safe place for refuge through the evening. Should you still be among the living please do not allow anyone to incapacitate you in your rest.”

That was... well, that was like Syntax he supposed. To the point but wordier than necessary. And yet it was nice, oddly, to know that the other seemed to be concerned for Huntsman’s well being in his own way.

He sent a reply back, a simple “k” that he knew would infuriate the other. He couldn’t help it, Syntax was far too easy to rile up and it was far to amusing to see the results. Many of which came to his watch in quick succession, showing that Syntax both got the message and was giving him a nice rant about it that he would check in the morning.

As Huntsman curled up on his side and started to drift off he realized something. In all his talking about the rest of the group he never did tell Sandy about himself...

He wondered why the other didn’t push it.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #ship fic #fanfic #silktea #huntsman #sandy #Second Chances Over Tea