#I accidentally hit post and not save as draft so here we are

[grimnisdottir]

Tobirama comes across Madara, who has been pushed into an unnatural rut and offers his services.

Its just not the kind Madara likely expects.

[augustvandyne]

request:

They go to a dodgers game together then at the end when they’re leaving a fight breaks out n reader gets hit

i accidentally posted it while trying to save it into my drafts, so i deleted the request. anyway, here it is. i love this idea because protective angela!! protective angela on top 💗🙏🏼 also i know little to nothing about baseball so please forgive

fight

The game was crazy, to say the least.

At one point you and Angela were standing up and jumping up and down over the fact that the Dodgers were winning, and then they just weren’t.

So now the two of you were sitting down, feet up, and chewing on some stale popcorn you’d picked up on your way to your seats.

Angela was making sarcastic remarks about how well they were playing today.

This was only one of their first games of the season, but really, what was the purpose of all the preseason if they were just going to perform like this?

“Catch the damn ball,” Angela shouts as the ball is dropped for the umpteenth time today. “Oh my.”

“I’m gonna need a drink after this one,” You hold a hand over yours eyes.

“A strong one,” Angela agrees.

“I can’t even watch anymore,” You turn your head to look at your beautiful girlfriend.

“It’s almost over,” Angela lays her head back to put a hand-full of popcorn in her mouth. “And then we can do whatever we want the rest of the day.”

“Good,” You laugh. “I’m gonna need something to take my mind off this shit show.”

“I’m very good at that,” Angela turns her head towards you, smirking.

“Oh, yeah, are you?” You lean in to kiss her lips, and she kisses back. “You look gorgeous today, you know?”

“Oh, so I don’t any other day?” Angela fakes hurt.

You squint, making Angela chuckle a bit.

“Not what I meant,” You push her jokingly.

“And what did you mean?”

“That you look gorgeous,” You shrug. “I like your natural hair.”

“Now I’m gonna start straightening it,” Angela shakes her head, trying to bite back a smile.

“Okay,” You shrug. “I like you every way. Hair up, down, straight, curled, natural. I love all of you.”

“I love every part of you, too,” Angela puts her head back, looking at you sweetly.

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You put a hand on your chest.

“Shut up,” Angela rolls her eyes.

The moment between the two of you stops as two men standing in front of you begin to get into it.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Angela pushes the fingertips of her pointer finger and thumb into her eyes. “We can’t have just one nice day without having to be cops?”

“I mean, we could just leave.”

“Yeah, lets. Before we become accessories to a crime,” Angela stands, grabbing her leather jacket and any trash she had.

You do the same, and step out into the steps so you could leave.

You go down a step when one of the men accidentally punches you across the face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” You put your hand on your face where the man hit you, your eye watering from the pain.

You’d think after years of being a cop, you’d be used to the feeling of being punch in the face, but you weren’t.

“I— It’s fine,” You flex your jaw, trying to ease the pain, but it just makes it worse.

“Like hell it is,” Angela’s face only holds pure anger. “You never hit a woman.”

“It was an accident—“

Angela holds her finger up, “Let alone a cop.”

“Shit, I—“

“Save it,” Angela crosses her arms, the trash long forgotten on the floor of the bleachers. “You’ll be hearing from our lawyer.”

“Ange—“ You try to calm her, but she isn’t having any of it.

“No. He’s lucky I don’t arrest him right now,” Angela clenches her jaw.

“Baby,” You shake your head.

Angela’s eyes soften as she takes the step towards you. She tries to remove your hand from your face, but you resist.

“Let me see,” She demanded. “Come on.”

When she removes your hand, she sees that there’s a bruise getting ready to form, and she looks back at the man angrier than she was a second ago.

Angela places a kiss on the sore spot.

“Ah, so much better,” You wipe the stray tear.

“Good,” She caresses the spot, trying to ease your pain for you. “How bad does it hurt?”

“An 8,” You wince when she applies the tiniest bit of pressure.

“I’m sorry,” Angela looks at you with sympathy. She wants nothing more than to take that guy to the ground, but she knows right place, right time. And that’s definitely not here in front of all these people who were already staring.

“I’m not joking,” Angela gives the man a stern look. “We’ll be seeing you.”

“Come on,” Angela lightly grabs your arm. “Let’s go get you some ice.”

Later that night, you’d taken some Tylenol for the pain, and you were still holding an ice pack to your face.

Angela’s orders!

She had you lying across her chest, the two of you covered in a blanket.

Every thirty minutes or so, she made you get up so she could see your bruise, and she’d apply a kiss like she had at the stadium.

She was worried about a concussion, but you promised her that you knew the day, time, and president. As well as the fact that the only pain you had was in your cheek.

“I can’t believe that happened,” She tilts her head, examining your cheek again.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Angela shakes her head. “You’re in pain, I feel so bad.”

“I promise it’s not your fault, Ange,” You run your fingers through her hair, holding it back from her face.

You place a kiss on her head, forehead, nose, and then finally her lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Angela presses her lips together, trying to suppress the worry growing in her stomach.

“Yes,” You kiss her again. “I promise. The pain and the bruise will be gone soon enough.”

“Good.”

“Especially if you keep kissing it,” You smile, tapping a finger to the tender spot, signaling her to give you a kiss there again.

Angela chuckles, “You’re cute.”

“Thank you,” You beam as she pulls your towards her to give you a kiss there.

“My turn,” You pepper kisses all over her face until she’s begging you to stop. “Feel better?”

“I should be asking you that,” Angela’s smile falters again, but grows once more when you give her a look. “I feel much better. Thank you.”

You lay back down, a mixture of the Tylenol, trashy television, and the feeling of Angela’s fingers in your hair causing you to pass out for the rest of the night.

[zombiewhor3]

WE HAVE SHIT TO DO

rick grimes x fem reader

WARNINGS: smut, penetrative sex, male/fem orgasms, weapon usage, mentions/usage of liquor, Negan, mentions of character deaths, mentions of upset/un-comfy reader, mentions of murder, season 7 era tbh,

a/n: just watched the episode of where Carl died and where Rick read his letter and i am a sobbing mess, i cried so hard throughout the entire episode an honestly in the comics it says he has a happy ending so lets pretend that Carl never died and had a happy ending and that he just ran away because it's breaking my heart!

: sorry for the long wait, i've been trying to catch up stuff on my wattpad and i have a few drafts that i have saved so i'll be trying to post those throughout the week!

-

the runs had been hard, and food rations had started to become smaller and smaller by the day, and with children and people of Alexandria they needed to find something.

But it was hard with Negan breathing down their backs, constantly making random appearances to claim 'his deliveries' that they were supposed to somehow fulfill for him and the Saviours.

she had one of her hands intertwined with his while his cock was hitting her g-spot making her mouth form a sudden 'O' shape while their lips connected in a frustrating lust for one another.

she let out a soft cry into his mouth feeling as she was so close from her big O that she was bucking her hips up for one of his thumbs to rub circles on her clit to send her over the edge for him.

without a hesitation he used his thumb to spin on her clit hearing as she let out a loud set of delicate moans from her mouth, and it made him pull his lips away from hers just so he could hear how beautiful she sounded aloud while he fucked her.

"s-so close!" she whimpered feeling as her walls clenched to try and bring his throbbing cock even deeper into her tight soaked walls, one of their hands were holding onto the others so they could keep their bond of love even closer during the moment.

"shh shh, come on let it go"

he cooed to her feeling as she let out a loud whimper while her juices spurt out onto his cock that was irresponsibly not covered by a condom, however it felt to good for him to stop and by the time he knew it he was shooting his load inside her

"fuck" he practically gasped feeling the warmth of their juices creating a slight warmth over his cock, she let out a whine as he hadn't pulled out of her yet because he wanted to take in the moment

a loud knock at the door seemed to disturb her as she jumped sending a slight accidental pleasure to his cock that was still buried full length in her cunt.

"you done fucking in there Rick? because we have shit to do!" Negan called out while tapping his bat against the door so harshly Rick thought that he was going to somehow break through it.

he pulled out of her watching as she covered over her mouth to hide a loud gasp that she knew was surely to spill from her mouth, "one minute Negan please" Rick asked only hearing the knocking start to get louder and louder surely he was trying to scare him.

Rick had wiped himself and slipped on his lower half of clothes before Negan flew open the door smiling once he saw y/n covering herself with the tangled bed sheets around her.

Rick ran a hand through his hair while he pulled out a fresh white t-shirt from his dresser slipping it on while he holstered his knife and looked at the man standing in front of him.

"Rosita come here for me please"

Negan called out watching as the women slipped down the long and quite narrow hall leading to the bedroom, she stood behind him as she kept her gaze down on the floor.

"you and Rick are going to go on a scavenge trip and i don't care how long you're out there for, either you find something cool or useful for me or option one you don't come back at all and in that case i'll bash someones head in or option two i smash all of these sorry fucks heads in" Negan smiled rubbing his hand over Lucille.

"now get the hell out" he ordered watching as Rick skimmed past him as he followed Rosita back down the long hall and once Negan heard the front door shut with a slam a smile appeared on his face.

this time it was wider and cockier almost like he thought the girl trying to cover her nude body from him was a joke, his smile was implicating that he thought this was all so damn funny.

"can i please get some privacy Negan?" she asked calmly as her nails started to practically burn holes into the fabric from the strength of her grip that she had on it.

Negan rested the bat against the inner wall of the bedroom next to the snow white painted door frame, he used a hand to rub over the stubble on his face, he sighed and flipped his back around.

his hands rested clasped in front of him as he fiddled his thumbs and whistled impatiently, she slipped into the bathroom to wipe her self clean before she slipped back into the bedroom to put on a fresh set of clothes.

"you can stop whistling now" she bit at him while she adjusted the collar of her flannel that covered the blank tank underneath, she flipped over the cuffs on the sleeves and folded her arms.

"wow god you two really go at it" Negan remarked at her watching as her posture awkwardly changed in front of him, because her shoulders seemed to scrunch up at the uncomfortable remark.

"is that stuff never seems to go right around here? is you two's fucking getting in the way of my deliveries that you and your people should be making?" a hand rested on her lower neck as he made his way up to her chin watching and feeling as she swallowed harshly.

"you seem un-comfy baby" he spoke rubbing the side of her cheek, "i think you should leave" she spoke calmly but also with a slight fire in her voice wishing that he would just see himself out.

Judith let out a loud cry just a few doors down making Negan smile once more as he picked up Lucille and made his way along the hall making sure to scrape the floors up with him.

"don't please" y/n spoke pushing past him so that she could stand in the door frame the loud sound of her crying ringing through her ears like loud feedback echoing off of a microphone.

"oh please i'm not gonna hurt her what am i a monster?" he bit back bitterly skimming past her, he placed his bat down next to the recliner in her room while he lifted her up from her crib.

he sat back in the recliner while rocking her gently with his knee while he stroked the back of her head, y/n didn't understand how a man so cruel and so monsterous could have a heart like this.

how he could act so sweet after threatening to bash everyone's brains in if Rick hadn't followed his orders as directed.

y/n was surely biting her fingernails raw looking at the two, she seemed to have a liking to him, but it wasn't like she knew how much of a monster he was, after all she was only past a year old she truly didn't know anything about the real world yet.

it was making her sick seeing him hold her, seeing as he was able to get her to stop crying, she looked down the hall to see Carl standing there cocking his head while he looked at the quite visible nervousness y/n was emitting into the air around them.

she shook her head at Carl to go back with Enid who had her head peaking out into the kitchen to watch what Carl was doing from the hall even though she couldn't get a good enough view.

y/n gestured for him to return back to the room he had just appeared from but instead he walked his way down the hall his hand slipping out the silver knife from his holster.

y/n tried to put her hand out to push into his chest but once she saw the fire in his eyes she let him go, she let him slip into the bedroom to see the man that killed her friends holding his little sister.

it was causing an ache in him, it was making him so god damn furious that he was clenching the blade by his side,

"would you look at that it's the serial killer in the making isn't this a nice surprise for me" Negan teased looking down at the knife clenched with a fist down by the boys side.

y/n grabbed his wrist to take the knife from him and shockingly he let her, he let it slip out from his hand without even an ounce of a fight,

she slipped it back into his holster while turning his body away and sending him back down the hallway to where Enid was now waiting for her boyfriend with an explanation.

"he's a feisty one for sure, quite bold if you ask me"

Negan spoke to y/n while sitting up from the chair and resting the now sleepy Judith back in her crib, she pulled a blanket over her and handed the stuffed rabbit that rested next to her in her crib before he grabbed his bat and showed himself out of her room.

y/n shut the door behind her once she checked the baby camera to make sure that it was still on and hadn't run out of battery power again, she followed Negan into the living room thankful that the two kids had left the house to venture somewhere else.

"you have any bourbon or whiskey? i could really use a drink"

Negan asked plopping down on the couch and resting his feet a top of the coffee table un-apologetically while his eyes flicked over to look at the obviously unamused y/n.

"not much i think in the last of our rations we have maybe half a bottle i'm not sure last time i checked your men took it all"

y/n spoke sharply while opening the cupboards until she found the bottle of whiskey, she grabbed a clean empty glass and poured him some before she set the glass and the bottle on the table.

he moved his feet out of her way before he took his first embrace of the liquor in his glass, "perfect" he sighed happily as he downed his first glass of the brown liquid, "what is this exactly?" Negan asked watching as she had taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch away from him before she answered his question.

"Deanna's old husband had a old liquor cabinet so i'm guessing something vintage or some shit we found it in Spencer's room but i suppose whiskey is simply whiskey"

y/n reflected back at him while crossing her legs, she stared out the window where the curtains had been pulled back to let in just the right amount of sunshine necessary to light up the room so it wouldn't be as gloomy and dark for them.

"not when it's cheap but times are tough so anything will do these days but i have to admit this don't taste cheap sweet heart"

Negan admitted as he poured himself another round, after he downed it he licked his lips clean and looked at her.

"you've had your drink can you leave me be now" y/n spoke bitterly towards him as she got up from the couch,

"not until your boy toy and that chick gets back with my shit, is that what you call him boy toy or fuck toy?" he blabbed back before giving up on the glass and instead just pressing the glass bottle of liquor against his lips taking a swig of the burning liquid down his throat feeling the aftermath of the sting start to kick in from the liquor.

"i call him Rick that's all" she answered his question sounding uninterested in the games he was trying to play with her

she was tired of looking at his face and that smug ass smile laced on it, tired of looking at the leather jacket he wore that once had her friends blood splattered on it and she was sure as hell tired of looking at the damn bat that now sat between his legs.

because it was the same bat he used to bash in her friends heads the same bat that she had taunted her and the rest of her group with, the same bat that had smeared blood on her face because she refused to look at it that night when he ordered her.

she gulped looking down at it, Negan chuckled as he could catch her glance at the piece of wood, "is Lucille bothering you because i can promise you she isn't quite thirsty right now but if they come back with nothing she's gonna be damn thirsty for more of your friends"

"please just leave me alone Negan, please that's all i ask of you, you can have that entire bottle of whiskey if it'll get you to stop running your mouth to me hell i'll find you all the damn bottles that you want if it'll keep you away from me"

she spoke trying to hide the fire she could feel her body emitting, she could feel the anger every time she looked at him and it was starting to grow so much she wasn't sure she would be able to hold back from simply killing him but she knew that would be a foolish idea.

that killing him would reek a havoc on the people of Alexandria.

she slipped into her and Rick's bedroom sinking into the bed as she could hear the sound of his men outside, and well she could see partially some of them through the shadow of their figures through the light cream colored curtains covering the window.

she picked up the comic book that rested on the night stand next to the bed, her and Carl had a thing for comic books often swapping whenever they finished one, she ran her fingers over the cover before she set it back down onto the wooden night stand with a sigh.

she prayed that Rick would be back soon, and she prayed that if he did come back he'd bring something Negan wanted or else she knew that surely there was gonna be a blood bath in Alexandria.

-

it had been a week since Rick came home, and that meant she had spent a week living with a cruel man, it was hard keeping Carl out of the house away from his sister but she knew it would prevent him from pulling anything stupid when his father was away.

they had come back with two large bottles of rum, a pallet that had been slightly filled with cans of sweet corn and an old jack knife that Negan had let Rick keep himself as a so labeled "trophy" for being such a good scavenger for him.

Once Negan was satisfied with the resources Rick had brought to him he gathered his men and left, but not without making sure to take a look at the women who was soaking into her bed from the ability of not being able to look him in the face anymore.

Rick could tell that she had lost her mind spending the past seven days with him, that she was truly going crazy with the taunting and the comments and well the fact she felt so guilty for just simply trying to protect Carl from doing something stupid.

Rick pulled her into him so he could rub her hands and plant kisses onto the back of her neck and her shoulder blades feeling her shudder and slightly tremble at the needed contact.

"is he gone? i can't stand to look at him anymore"

she admitted feeling as he intertwined one of his hands with hers rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb,

"he's gone for now at least i'll make sure to take you out for scavenging next week to see if we can bring anything back for us"

Rick peppered kisses on her back trying to settle her as he knew that the true real life fact was that Negan could come back any day or any time he pleased and he could tell that it was starting to severely upset her, he knew that she hated him for what he did and in all truth Rick couldn't stop thinking about killing the man himself.

He knew that no matter what he did or no matter if he killed or defeated Negan nothing would ever be the same he had already tried that and it cost him two of his men, two of his innocent men.

"i want to kill him Rick i have to kill him i need to" she spoke with a sudden change of tone starting to lace and bite back at her.

she squeezed his hand, "but i can't put anyone else in danger, because i can't lose anyone else and i already know he has Carl on his list and i won't do that to you"

he shushed her softly again to calm her down from the amped-up ramble that she had been starting to spew out again

"and we won't lose him if we follow the plan we have, just a few more days and we can follow out the plan and see how it goes for us but i just know we have to try and fight our way out of this"

Rick was almost all jittered up from the thought of taking Negan down, the thought of taking him down so no one else they loved or cared about could ever be hurt again from him.

"then we'll find a way to kill him together without getting us killed and we'll find a way to take down his men with him"

[the-ghost-bird]

Rant over Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer:

Note: I wrote this while drunk months ago and my drunk self accidentally saved this as a draft instead of posting it. Against my better judgement, here's how bad I was obsessing over Annihilation, with the correction of the horrenous whiskey induced spelling mistakes. Spoilers ahead (obviously)

I was thinking back to the book, trying to figure out what about it hit me like a damn train, even after years and multiple rereads.

And i think part of it is just.... idk, there's something about the calmness of the biologist when she realizes she's contaminated from the spore inhalation. There's something about how she accepts it and the changes after it that just speaks to me. It's not a morbid acceptance, it doesn't come across as just her choosing to accept it for the saking of keeping her emotions in control. This acceptance of hers is less morbid and more like a... relief.

She just accepts it, and as she and nature merges, there's this feeling that Area X is not as dangerous to her as it is to everyone else because she's meant to be there. She is this reminder that nature and human are not separate, and we see it from the way she's always been so deeply connected to nature, more than anything else society could provide to her.

Her career choice isn't just an interest to her but an excuse to be connected to nature as much as she can, like a person who chooses to become a surgeon not because they want to help people but because it gives them an excuse to cut them open. I mean for fuck sakes, she kept getting removed from any research projects she would work on because she would just hyperfixate on the environment surrounding her and get lost instead of doing her actual job.

The biologist has always belonged to Area X. She's always felt like an entity that transcended humanity and connected to the lifecycles around her. That's why the husband highlights in his journal that he would've understood her better when he volunteered for the 11th expedition.

So when she inhales those spores, and remains calm, and accepts her changes all so easily, it gives the impression that now that feeling of hers, that feeling that she's meant to be in the remote, in the wild- all of that isn't a feeling anymore, it's physical, it's real, it's irreversible and you can't ignore it or brush it off or undermine it.

She transcends and becomes Area X, and it's what she always wanted, what she was always meant to become, what she's always been.

[brekkersource]

how to use beta + trim reblogs

so! we all know about beta editor by now. for better or for worse, a lot of us are using tumblr's new beta editor, and it's likely that everyone will have no choice but to use it soon. this unfortunately means a lot of us can't use the new xkit to trim our roleplay posts. there have been a lot of posts explaining this and the benefits of xkit rewritten; this one, this one, and this one especially helped me understand what's going on. however, a lot of people still seem to be floundering around in the dark so i wanted to make a tutorial that sums up everything i've learned from other tutorials as well as my own trial and error.

if you want a step by step guide to trimming reblogs (with screenshots) as well as a brief overview of beta editor's pros and cons, keep reading.

the first step, obviously, is to switch to beta editor and install xkit rewritten. the posts linked above explain how and why so i won't go into detail here. trim reblogs is the new version of edit reblogs, and it looks like this. one of the best features is that you can use it even after posting your reply, so if something glitches or you forget to trim, you still have a chance to fix it.

once you have them, there are two different ways i've seen people use xkit rewritten to trim their posts.

1. seperate reblogs

this is, in my opinion, the best and easiest way to go about this. mun 1 makes a post, mun 2 reblogs it, and then mun 1 uses xkit rewritten to trim their original post from the thread.

however, this only works if the original post was made in beta. if you try to trim a post that was made in legacy, you get get a warning, and if you go ahead with it, it's going to glitch somehow. in my testing, my reply duplicated! which is very annoying. and despite what the warning says, repeating the trim usually does not last—even if it seems like it does at first.

2. (probably) copy and paste

this is more visually reminsicent of editable reblogs from new xkit. there might be an easier way to do this that i don't know about—if so, please let me know. the name kind of explains it all; a mun will copy and paste their partner's reply, indent it, and write their own below. then, obviously, they'll have to trim all the past reblogs of the post. this is especially good for people who like doing pretty headers or editing their partner's url to look pretty, you know what i'm talking about.

there is a glitch i have run into on my own blog a few times that i was unable to duplicate, so i've just taken a screenshot of my own blog with most of the information blanked out. if only one person if using beta, trim reblogs will still sometimes glitch and duplicate. i trimmed my reblog multiple times but every time i reloaded, my duplicated reply was back. please, please communicate with your partners. i know it's annoying and awkward but it will save everyone so much frustration. especially if you're clinging to legacy, please let your partners know so they can adjust accordingly—or consider switching to beta, even if just for that thread.

but beta is not all bad i promise

i know how frustrating this all is (i fully refused to do drafts for a few days once beta really started kicking in and new xkit stopped working for me), but i am slowly coming around to it.

tags are editable now! i cannot explain the joy i experienced when i first realized this. no more typing up a long, rambling tag only to notice a typo as soon as you've hit return. you can edit tags at any point—even when going back and editing an old post! does this mean that i have accidentally started editing a tag when i meant to move it? yes but it's worth it.

making the text small is so much easier now. no more going into html or command+option+shift! instead, it's available as an option right in between the italic and link buttons when you highlight text.

you can now edit the size and type of text very easily! this did confuse me at first when i couldn't find the indent button, but it's now in a toggle list; if you click on the regular tab when text is highlighted, there are a ton of options including indent, chat, lucille (whatever that means), bigger/biggest, and more.

however, it's not all great. but it's tumblr, what did we expect.

the most frustrating thing for me personally is that you can no longer copy and past an image link into your reply, or else the image url will be tagged on underneath it. it looks funky and isn't great if you don't want to download a million gifs. while i've just been downloading/dragging the gifs i want to use to desktop and uploading them to my reply, it's annoying to have to clean up my desktop and empty my computer's trash so i'm not wasting storage space. additionally, this does not work if the gifset is in a post rather than a page; the only option there is to copy and paste and simply put up with the image url. clicking "add image" and then pasting the image or dragging the gif from the page/post's tab into the tumblr tab and onto your reply still results in a url. if anyone has figured out a workaround for any of this please let me know; otherwise, i think we should all just agree to ignore the url if it shows up. update: thank you sm to anon for informing me of @rpclefairy's roleplay formatter! if you put the gif in their formatter, copy the source, and paste that into the post when it's in html mode, not rich text mode, the link is gone! and thanks to tumblr realizing this was annoying, if you click the little link icon that appears when you hover over an image, delete the url, and hit done so it saves, the url will be gone!

formatting is......weird now. if you make your paragraph text small and then decide to add another sentence, the new text won't be small. you'll have to edit it again. text that has been formatted (small, italic, bold, etc) will be highlighted in a very strange way when the cursor is in the formatted section. as far as i've been able to figure out, even after poking around a bit in the html, there's no way to change any of this. not to sound like a broken record here, but if you've found a way to change any of this, please let me know. otherwise i think we just have to put up with this bullshit.

there's always a chance that these things will be fixed; it is still just a beta system after all. for now, i think the best thing the community can do is communicate with partners, ask questions, and just accept that there's gonna be some weird shit going on and we're all doing our best.

if any of this changes i will update this post, but in the meantime, pls share if this helped or you want to share the word. and for the last time, if i've gotten anything wrong, just let me know and i'll update.

[shippingmyworld]

Do you have any more YouTuber AU ideas? (Cus I love them 🥹)

Youtuber!El Tigre & Youtuber!SpongeBob AU!!!

Danny post here; Jimmy & Timmy here

sorry anon i totally didn't save this ask as a draft and forget about it for a few weeks

Manny and Frida run a controversial prank channel with the most clickbait titles known to the internet. Their content ranges from standard pranks like egging or toilet-papering the houses of the local villains to overcomplicated heist-like plans that they spend 20 minutes hyping up things like breaking into Sartana’s house and stuffing her guitar full of exploding burritos. 

Frida starts coming up with most of their content with Manny being the yes man, but their popularity is really thanks to Manny overselling everything he does. They also live-stream like 90% of their content and upload the raw footage to a second channel pretty much the moment they are done filming.

They never read or respond to anything in the comment section, since every video generates a massive flame war between people that think Manny and Frida are the funniest duo on the planet and people chastising them for their reckless behavior. Honestly they’re really only uploading videos for themselves because they wanted to try and generate some extra money from the ad revenue and ended up just rolling with it. 

Their favorite content to make are things they title as ‘Social Experiment’ videos (but in reality it’s just how they’re trying to get away with all their tomfoolery). Their first experiment was when Frida pretended to be a really bad street performer while Manny heckles her. If nobody steps in to stop Manny after a few songs, he will ‘steal’ her guitar and see if anyone tries to actually stop him. 7/10 times though Frida's performances are so bad (she sing tone deaf on purpose, play wrong notes, etc.) that people actually cheered when Manny took the guitar.

The most popular video on their channel however was from when they faked a zombie outbreak at the mall during the holiday season. Manny ran screaming into the food court while Frida was clinging to his back, having pretended like she just took a massive bite out of his neck. They went over the top with the makeup and theatrics (there was fake blood and gore everywhere) and ended up accidentally triggering a stampede of panicked shoppers. 

The only reason they didn’t face any repercussions for that stunt was thanks to Frida pulling the “My dad is the Chief of Police” card. But the content creator side of Frida’s brain thought it would be really funny to film a “We spent the night in jail” video and so Frida swiped her dad’s keys later and they pretended that they actually did get arrested. 

After the zombie prank they had to dial it back a bit (or risk their parents pulling the plug on everything) and stuck to just pranking random people or small groups on the street. They start filming more ‘harmless’ stuff like sneaking up behind people on the phone and popping a balloon or pretending to be blind and ‘accidently’ hitting people in the shin with their walking stick. 

The ‘harmless’ stuff wasn’t doing the same kind of numbers as their previous videos and they needed cash (neither one of them has impulse control when it comes to the money they make), so they went back to their usual stuff of pranking the local villains (and occasionally other superheroes to mix it up). However, because they live-stream their stuff, most of the local villains are subscribed (with notifications turned on) and end up crashing Manny's stream if he's trying to break into their house.

SpongeBob’s content has absolutely no rhyme or reason to it. He basically treats his channel as a video diary. His content will range from multi-hour long ASMR-like videos titled “A Peaceful Stroll Through Jellyfish Fields” or “Frying Patties at the Krusty Krab for 8 hours” to videos of him stanning Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy with Patrick or rating snail food based on Gary’s reactions.

Everyone assumes that he’s just using a really high-quality motion-capture Vtuber model and that he’s committed to the roleplay of his Vtuber living in a fictional city called Bikini Bottom at the bottom of the ocean.

He also has several “Home Tour” videos of his pineapple and people are constantly trying to figure out the internal layout because the footage is always cut and edited to hell with so many stylized transitions it looks like a PowerPoint presentation. Anytime there’s footage of SpongeBob actually walking from one room to another people start to go crazy. He once did a livestream where he walked from the kitchen directly into the study and the live chat started freaking out because that door didn’t exist three months ago??? And if this leads to the study then where the hell is the door to the living room? People swear that the staircase to the second floor of SpongeBob’s house is alive and moves around every video. 

The comments section goes wild whenever Squidward makes an appearance. SpongeBob's followers absolutely LOVE him. No joke, there's fan merch and fan art of him out there. Chat's filled with stuff like #mood or ‘he’s just like me fr.' The funniest part is that Squidward has zero idea that his cult following even exists because he’s written it off as another one of SpongeBob and Patrik’s stupid antics. In fact, the first time he heard SpongeBob say the word 'Chat' Squidward told Mr. Krabs that there was a gas leak that needed to be fixed.

(Also Plankton is subscribed and immediately downloads every video that’s uploaded just in case there’s a hint of the Krabby Patty Formula in any of them.)

[amaiguri]

Rewriting Ymver, The Eternal Bard -- Part 2

In my last post, we established that Ymver needs to be more suited to his culture -- i.e. More individualist, darker skin, a greater focus on parenthood in his story, etc.

Well, guys, gals, NB pals, it hit me: He isn't the quintessential hero of the Saegen folk -- he WROTE the Hero Story. And he wrote it about his children. Who died.

So here's his new story in bulletpoint form:

Ymver is a selkie taken in by the Sages as a child, after being separated from his parents in a storm

Crosses the lake/sea to the Endless Ice, Asarlai denies him sage power

He studies everything, grows up really smart, an advisor even to the Sages

He investigates Unmarked Sage crimes the Sanpo children after they’ve caused problems and adopts them, but he accidentally kills the other Sanpo children

Sanpo children are just Eve’s Fight Song

The Sages continuously try to use them, the son is very cognizant of this, hides his power, acts as a Stablehand. Daughter is crazy powerful and gets used by the local nobles and bad Sages a lot

They go on their Serpent jawbone harp journey and he makes his son the most beautiful kantele harp ever

Daughter elopes for “true love” but he and son kidnap her back because she’s just being used. She knows, she was trying to counter-use the nobles

She reveals more Unmarked Sages are trying to make Sanpos.

Son, daughter, and Ymver go to stop them. Son has to kill daughter when she turns into a monster. Son destroys all the Sanpo research, the Unmarked Sages, and then himself

Ymver rewrites their story into a touching epic about overcoming hardship through hardwork, family, and rewrites his son as going off to sail the world, promising to return when the world needs him most and —turning the Sanpo into a Holy Grail-like thing, rather than the people

Ymver then leaves to sail the world himself

Returns when the war starts

Saves Gil and Arlasaire from a battle where their ship goes down

Sees them as his second chance

But then Gil dies. And Arlasaire is taken away. His second chance is gone. What is the point now?

Maybe has to come to learn that you don’t have to just make a hero out of myths — that you can quietly just be a hero all on your own? And maybe he learns that he's doing a good job as a father and he can't expect to always protect his kids

I still need to go back and rewrite all his chapters... But if you REALLY want to see a glimpse of the new Ymver early... stay tuned for tomorrow where you can see a ROUGH DRAFT of a world letter -- woot WOOOT!

[luimagines]

*walks in tiredly, offers you a mug of tea, downs my own like a shot, makes it like the Wild 100 years ago* Hey there, hope you're doing well today ^^

Probably long ask so uh, warning and apologies in advance. I'm glad the Lustrous ask was seemingly well received? XD It's just a snippet of a bigger thing, I'm writing a full thing for them when I have the time (along with a series for the Fairy Tale prompts, which I also have snippets of if anyone's interested?) which I'll post later and tag you if you're interested, plus you listened to me basically just come into your little corner of the internet and ramble about a crossover of a series you're not familiar with and LU, so it's only fair since it basically inspired me to keep going, so thank you ^^. Although, uh, Citrine/Little Link won't have a good time, apologies in advance, I blame the evil moon people. Yeah sorry he's probably going to pull a Time or Sky in the bad sense. That was an exchange from a draft of chapter 4 and English is not my first language even though I've been using it more for years, so that's likely why it's off, I apologize for that. Also I promised I'd come here and scream about how much I adore your writing of the boys (and once again, thank you for posting, great pick me up after a rough week that really does make me want to walk right into a Guardian beam, so here we go while I can even if I may need to split this in two if I hit the word limit.

Also the small family with Warriors and Wind is so wholesome, I think I went under from cavities alone (or maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, eh), please let the Link’s have parents and parental figures who stick around and don’t contribute to their trauma universe and Wind and Aryll are definitely up there in both deserving and needing it a lot, had to say I laughed at Warriors not being as thrilled by the crab as someone who makes friends with them and seagulls every time I’m near the ocean, they’re neat little fellas ^^, Poor Legend probably ain’t gonna be thrilled to find one on his clothes though, I know I wasn’t before figuring out how to keep them out, also, Reader comforting Aryll- just yes, also Wind’s grandma is the best I don’t make the rules. Sick Reader is such a mood, the boy's reactions hurt to read though it's really heartwarming how much they care, perfectly in character, 10/10, would definitly die over it again. Reader being good with a bow made me chuckle and smile because the irony of being familiar with a bow and seeing Reader and Wild excited of it reminds me of when I first picked it up, sweet and humorous and I adore it. Four getting a taste of his own medicine- *cackles hard in current Minish Cap player and Manga reader of it and Four Swords* That's what you get for your canonical flirting boy! He was as bad as Warriors and look where it got him XD Also he's so gone for Reader's Colors and Reader in general, it's sweet and just really good, I love it so much, plus the Reader’s colors have so much personality and it’s great. The Fear Room, goodness THE FEAR ROOM. I'm going to need to save it in for another ask because there are so many little details that I adore and I am a sucker for horror and it's too good- 20/10, would scare my poor dog again over my pain and elation.

Reader accidentally spilling who’s their favorite (and suffering as a result) also makes me cackle and smile a lot, it’s soft and sweet and each Link being so elated by it is literally so sweet (though Time, Wild, and Twilight literally murdered me during that segment, not a bad cause of death all things considered, but how dare all Link’s be so sweet? Like I’m already dead here, shoveled dirt into my box and everything, no need to try finishing me off), na interesting detail is how Hyrule and Legend both have the almost immediate reaction of asking why, dunno if it’s intentional or not but it’s a very neat touch, like you don’t have to elaborate but either way they’d happy if you did decide to which reflects really well with their characters. Four overreacting the second Reader takes it back (be smothe, smithy boy, specially so you don’t plot), Sky being sweet but oh so oblivious and basically killing Reader and Warriors being flattered, Wind just being triumphant in general and wanting to make Reader smile, Wild basically getting a critical hit in, Twilight and Time existing, it’s just so nice and I am soft. Plus the consistent and cackle worthy betting always makes me wheeze.

Speaking of betting, the Link’s being so gone for a tall S/O is both hilarious, consistency I greatly appreciate and a mood, plus the lines where definitely on point for sudden hilarity (“They got family?” “They took all your height” “And ours too-“ “Twilight wondering why he got none of that” absolutely sent me, great pick me up after a generally bad time existing), and all of them being soft and just so happy their S/O is in their lives and how they can show them off when meeting in each Hyrule is really wholesome, plus the consistent betting and friendly teasing which really sells how they are as close as brothers is really nice to see.

Soft Fierce Deity, honestly the main thing I can say coherently is that if the favorite scenario, and then the meeting scenarios slayed me, then this man came into my house and stole all my bones before killing me again in a good way because I am too soft, I have a really soft spot for the Fierce Deity, and the way you write for him is great and we usually don’t see much for him in any corner of the Zelda (or adjacent) Fandoms, it’s in character sure because Nintendo has a tendency of mentioning deities in Zelda or Link variants and then just refusing to elaborate, but it always makes me happy to see people write stuff for him among other things, 50/10.

How to Be a Heartbreaker delights me, always nice to see Warriors being the flustered one instead and his and Reader’s banter (and Twilight cameo) gives me life, I could probably write a small essay on why it delights me so much, but again word limit so let’s move on, maybe during another ask or something.

... Actually maybe I should save the oneshots for another individual ask, more organized that way.

Anyway, onto there’s only one bed! Also know as, Wild killing me with cackling that had my dog nuzzling me with concern and being my spirit animal all in one go, never change Wild Child, knew there was a reason you managed to bring me back to the Zelda fandom, me trying and failing not to be soft for Warriors, soldier boy deserves good things and it’s really sweet how much he cherishes reader, and me and Legend having the same trauma (aka KOHOLINT, if I could I’d fistfight the Windfish, I can’t go to the beach without a seagull being nearby and remembering Marin, specially with the friendly ones who actually come by just to stare and chirp for a while and it hurts), the fact he doesn’t want Reader to look down on him, because he doesn’t want them to leave him like how he basically lost or was left by most people in his life, the correlation with when he was stranded at sea, Reader comforting him- Just yes, bless the veteran. Flustered Reader is also my spirit animal, and cat Reader delights me to no end,  thank you once more for the wonderful contente and all your work in the fandom!

Also, while the urge to nap has not yet claimed me yet (and with hopefully the Tumblr wordcount not vibe checking me), I saw an ask about Time/Mask/Sprite with a resistance leader s/o? May I raise an idea/au of this au that’s been haunting me every second when I’m not doing anything much? Resistant Leader in the pre-timeskip timeline (aka The Child Timeline) started out as a Terminan Thief, that’s why Mask didn’t run into them when first going to get the Master Sword, they haven’t left Termina yet. The first contact Mask had with them after the timeskip was when they stole his wallet as a Deku Scrub, ran from him on the second day and then vanished on the third day. After the loop starts Thief/would be Resistant Leader Reader is somehow always just there, stealing random stuff from him and generally making his life harder (he would like to know how they snatched the Bunny Hood from his head and the Gilded Sword without him noticing, please? But Thief Reader definitely ain’t going to start divulging tricks of the trade) but always vanish on the third day before he can really stop them to talk, so honestly done and just really wanting to know why someone he remembers as this really amazing, confidente and badass leader would be acting like this (because it honestly doesn’t seem in character, given they were fighting Ganon for so long and stalled him several times on his search for Link) and just really missing a friend and being tired of these loops, he manages to follow them, maybe Reader was in a spot of trouble with other thieves and couldn’t get out of it unless they stole a certain quantity of rupees or rare items, and by the final day they snap and that’s why Link doesn’t see them (maybe the Gorman Brothers? If Reader spoke out and maybe tried using one of his stolen weapons to have a go at them for attacking Cremia and Romani if they’re close, although it’s generally ambigous, maybe it could be someone from Ganon’s former band of thieves who ran to Termina, and that’s why they became a Rebellion Leader in the timeskip? They couldn’t leave, saw what Ganon was going to do to Hyurle went, “Hm. Don’t really like that!” and probably fought their way out, maybe getting other thieves to speak up and rally together as well and it just escalated?) Either way, Mask sees what’s happening and that they probably can’t get out of it alone like usual and helps them because that’s HIS friend lord darn it he hasn’t seem them in forever and thought he wouldn’t ever see them again, the first familiar face since maybe Lullaby and Malon he’s seen in a while, he isn’t leaving them behind (casually raising my headcanon of Fae possesiviness being Time’s fault in the bloodline if we want to figure out where Hyrule’s came from, because the Kokiri are basically another branch of Fae and have fairies near them), and as thanks they not only give him his items of whichever loop his in back but maybe something of their own as well to remember, and help him out with the rest of the tasks or a temple (probably by somehow getting him the dungeon item, or a few dubiously acquired potions ahead of time), but if he had to reset they get caught up in it and actually remember the previous loop, given the way they just SPRINTED through Clock Town on the first day and instead of being subtle like always to steal something, they just bowl him over in a glomp and start checking him over, breaking the pattern.

Cue a bit of panic, several explanations and either an ear pull, cursing or stealing of rupees and holding masks hostage as revenge (and the threat of leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back if he tries stopping them from helping, oh you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done this now? And don’t want me to get hurt? Well too bad I am not letting you do this alone, News flash, technically I’ve already been hurt I’m not losing the one person who bothered to help me), and now he has an impromptu loop buddy to help him out even if it’s through questionable means after they usually deal with whichever other thief is around first. Maybe if after he defeats Majora and goes to leave he doesn’t tell Thief Reader, assuming they don’t want to come with since he’s caused them a lot of trouble and they’re technically free to do as they please now, only he can’t, because Thief Reader absconded with two more things of him: One of his earring’s, and the Fierce Deity Mask, which they are cheekily  waving to show off to him atop Clocktower, the earring on their own ears. (And seriously? HOW?!) Shenanigans ensue, maybe a chase or two, and Mask acquires himself a travel companion on top of Epona, Tatl and Tael on his search for Navi.

And honestly? Chaotic and bullheaded as they are and probably something of a magpie to boot, he wouldn’t have picked anyone else. You can hold your own and you’ve been ride or die with him twice over now, if that isn’t a sign you’re sticking around he doesn’t know what is.

Or something, idk, I’m running on three hours of sleep, maybe someone with more energy can expand on this into the War of Ages later or I’ll do it myself (Wind would have the best/worse role model ever, given ya know, Pirate and really light footed, feather touched and chaotic thief, Warriors is having heart attacks every five seconds even if he has to admit that when Thief Reader is going for soldier’s who talked badly about him, Mask, Wind, Ravio or Zelda is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen and that one time they stole Cia's staff and were going to bash her over the head, Ravio is probably side eying them the whole time or seeing a business opportunity, Artemis and them trade tips due to her Sheik alter ego and both Mask and Warriors have to drag them away from one another, the possibilities are endless). I just find the idea of the Link’s with any morally dubious, but clearly cares a lot and wouldn’t hesitate to cut or bite someone for them amusing. Gives way for some interesting dynamics, like say Twilight and cattle raider reader (aka the cowboy/wild west themed rivalry au that I will not elaborate on), or Warriors with an Assassin Reader, or Wild with a mercenary reader, the possibilities are infinite folks.

Also also, if for some reason Mask and Thief Reader got separated before LU, and they reunite as Time and Still a Thief but much closer to their Rebellion Couterpart Reader. And their reunion basically goes like that one Puss in Boots, or the Lion King one scene: Thief Reader: *Holding dagger to throat, teeth bared as they just managed to steal the Fierce Deity Mask for the 10987th time from this strange man they don’t recognize after he gave chase, pauses for a couple of seconds in disbelieving, shocked recognition, dropping the blade*... Link?

Time: *Also in fight mode and ready to kick the attacker off of him and getting the mask back, actually takes a good look at their face and pauses in shock, long dead hope suddenly burning again, hesitant* (... Reader)? Thief Reader: *Not even hesitating to throw themselves at him in a hug with a slightly teary laugh* LINK! Time: *hugging them back just as tight, still somewhat in disbelief* (Reader).

Thief Reader: *pausing as they notice the Fierce Deity’s marks, flashbacks to all the times they told Mask not to over do it on the battlefield with it because they saw how much it hurt and affected him even if the Deity is pretty chill with them, chillingly livid as they level the tone at him, you know the one, pulling at one of his ears* ...Link.

Time, Knowing he is in danger as he recognizes that tone: ... (Reader). *wisely stays silent as they smack him hard on the shoulder and starting the lecture of a lifetime, silently glad Malon also isn’t here because she’d probably join you, but also just glad you’re even here to lecture and get mad at him in the first place after so long* The Chain, watching all this drama and telepathy display go down and who just wanted their stolen stuff back: I can just imagine the sheer confusion and bewilderment as to how Time knows this seemingly random thief who stole their stuff and would have probably dipped sucessfully if not by somehow getting Wild’s Slate, the Fierce Deity Mask and almost all of Legend’s rings at the same time and why they’re arguing like an old married couple about self care of all things. Most amusing reactions probably going for Twilight, Wild, Legend, Warriors and Wind. Or something, i’m probably not making much sense.

Anyway, I’ve probably bothered you with my rambling enough for one day xD Thank you once again for all your work in the fandom, maybe I’ll have more stuff on Lustrous reader or even Vessel reader next I’m by but until then, thank you ^^.

-Signed, Just a Tired Anon on A Stroll 🐚.

Anon!!! Hello again!!

NOT MY BOY LUCKY DX NOT LITTLE LINK!!!!! WHAT DO MEAN BAD TIME LIKE TIME AND SKY?!?!?!

But also, please tag in anything. I'm so intrigued and I want more fairytale stuff. Go ahead. XD

I'm glad you like the oneshots! Please tell me more of your thoughts on the Fear Room o.o I'm not big on horror so I'm glad it got the terror across ^.^*

And Fierce Deity and How to be a Heartbreaker and other because I want to hear all your thoughts. XD

And what do you mean Twilight- wild west au- rivalry?!?!? Hello!!?!??! You can't just drop that and say you won't elaborate!!!!

But this idea with theif! Reader is a good one :D

Clearly, you put a lot of thought into it and there's just so much potential.

The boys are all awkward and shuffling in the background as Time gets scolded because they're not sued to the leader cower back like that and even then he's not even trying to defend himself at this point and they're just staring. "....Who is this person?"

"No clue, but the Old Man finally got what was coming to him."

"I feel like my parents are fighting."

"I know them..." Warrior sighs. "I guess they haven't change at all."

Multiple heads turn to look at him.

He puts his hands up. "I'm not saying anything."

[dollhouseirl]

"Heh, sorry about that one, folks. Gets 'em every time when I get 'em and I don't always wanna get 'em, you know?" He dusts himself off. He is a little princeling at times, you can see it in his tomfoolery and in the way he never once blemished himself or grew frightening as six became one. A neat little trick, wouldn't you say? As the OOC of Plot Twists, he has many more. "So, uhhhhhhh...what are y'all up to? You doin' anything fun this, uhhhhh"

The trickster consults a fancy new device he was given by a terrifying new, to his unwelcome surprise, sometimes acquaintance who told him, and, quote, "Yeah, we could tell time before but just imagine if you could tell time to go smother itself in its crib with an APP ;D" before handing it off to him. No real explanation of what an "app" was either, though he got the gist quickly enough. He always did; mind as sharp and as labyrinthine as a maze made out of mirrors edges.

"...Tuesday?" ;) "Me? Not much, not much. I'm just..."

He thinks. He's smoldering when he does that. It is said in the higher realms that he once was married to the OOC of Love. How that went is a matter best saved - a matter he prefers to save - for other times. Other times like...never. But...you can see, wacky attire and all (in this guise, at least), why that might very well be true. He's a charmer.

"...did I use the singular looking to mingular line already ha drat yeah i did well"

He thinks some more. Bucket Farce is prone to thinking far too much. If he looks thoughtless, it is because he has perfected the precise speed of thought that makes thought so effortless that it looks like he isn't having them when, in fact, he's having a lot of them. Mile a minute, this guy.

"I guess I'm looking for some, uh...shows to watch. Games to check out. We, uh, like, we have those where I come from. You could call 'em our lil' shows, our games of divinity, they might just blow your minds, hehe"

He grins without dropping any of his roguish charm. In an earlier draft, the character was more of a Jack Sparrow-type with a bare chest and pirate's coat in vibrant peacock colors, a real "Savvy, ol' pal?" type. He could still be that, you know? The only real for Bucket Farce, shapechanger that he is, is that there has to be a head and a bucket that conceals his true identity.

Do you know how much freedom that allows him? Why, then, do you suppose he doesn't take the bucket off ever?

"Thinkin' it's gonna be, like...anime, yeah? Checkin' out some donghua. I'm weighin' a JRPG arc, gonna be a real annoying about one my best buddy has been accidentally quoting since we got here because it's so funny, you don't get it you guys- He's never heard of Kingdom Hearts!"

He doesn't laugh at this. It's not hahahahahaha funny. It's more, man, can you believe this shit funny. When you are supposed to be the perfect plot twist, to have an identity no one can guess, you have to very possibly be willing to be anyone or know what being anyone would be like.

He can't take the bucket off because someone has to guess who he is first when the identity is itself supposed to be perfect. If perfect is unguessable, the bucket would seem to be on for good possibly.

"Hehe, sorry about this. Call this a little filler post, I guess. They can't all be winners! I really do want to know what everyone's up to out there; there are plans in store, y'know, and I'm - LIKE - so excited, heh ;)"

Bucket Farce winks. Does he really even need to take it off? Perhaps not.

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

Another short piece for my VN as we hit the last week before submission/launch! Sprites are done for Bucket by the, again, super super talented @lotus-start whose help I am very grateful for! Our boy has others in store besides this devilishly good looking one which I very specifically felt he had to have and which Lotus very specifically felt could have a very...yaoi-esque charm to it.

It'll be a great time! The pieces are all basically in place at this point. I'm having fun in this setting at this point just playing around and I hope everyone else does too when it's finally out and readable.

[kingdaddydaichi]

↣ title: of and for gods ∘ chapter I ∘ chapter II

↣ pairing: Daichi Sawamura x f!Reader

↣ wc: 2.5k

↣ warnings: nsfw; mdni; mention of war, sex crimes, and torture; Daichi trying to charm the pants right off of you

↣ notes: I've been working on this whole fic off and on since December 2021 - the rough draft is sitting at about 9k rn - and finally decided to buckle down and finish this first chapter bc I'm super excited to share it - and ready to drive it forward. Inspired by Eros (and Psyche accidentally). If you'd like to be tagged in future installments, hit me up with a dm or ask.

↣ beta read by: @mxgenderbender, naturally. Helping me become a better writer since 2021. 🧡

“Y/n, Y/n!”

You looked up to see your best friend hurrying towards you as you plucked a plump and perfectly red tomato from the vine. Concerned that something bad had happened, you set your basket down on the dirt and got to your feet. “What is it? Is everything okay?” you asked as you dusted your hands off.

She laughed as she waved an announcement around. “Oh, yes. And everything is about to get a lot better!”

The threat of war loomed along the border of your city. It and another were in a state of political unrest that had been getting worse and announcements were posted all over your city. The gods were to intervene and would be arriving soon to preside over the negotiation, drafting, and signing of a treatise between the neighboring territories. A formal speech was scheduled to be given in the city's center once everything had been agreed upon and finalized.

You smiled. “Oh, that is great news indeed! Maybe now we will all breathe a little easier with the promise of peace.”

“Not only that but look who will be among the gods!” she said, pointing to a particular name on the parchment.

“Daichi? Isn’t he the one you’ve had a massive crush on since we were fourteen?”

“That’s the one!” she said, hugging the paper like it was the god of sex himself.

Hundreds of residents had gathered in the city’s stadium and were speculating and gossiping about this latest change of events while they waited for the gods and city officials to take the stage. It was hot and you didn’t like crowds. Your friend had practically dragged you there, and you couldn’t wait for the speech to be over and done with so you could go home.

“Pray tell, what is the god of sex and lust doing here anyway? You’d think he’d have better things to do...like getting his dick wet,” you said, fanning your face of the ambient heat.

“There’ve been rumors about soldiers forcing hostages to perform sex acts on them and each other as a means of torture and leverage to gain intel,” your friend explained. “From what I’ve heard, Daichi was angered when he learned of it and was poised to violently punish the offenders. But he was somehow convinced to instead have his say in the treaty.”

A group of a dozen men walked out onto the stage and the crowd fell mostly silent, save for a few murmurs and whispers here and there. Daichi stood on the balcony among the other gods who were present.

“Look, there he is,” your friend leaned in and said, unable to tear her starstruck eyes from him.

You’d never seen him before and had to stand on your tiptoes to get a better look at him. 

You heard a soft voice behind you say “It’s Daichi, the most attractive of all the primordial gods.”

You felt as though the god’s palpable intensity had been pushed into your veins, even etched into your bones. He was tall, dark, and strikingly handsome with short black hair, piercing brown eyes, and olive skin that had been sheened with a thin layer of sweat. He stood with his muscular arms folded over his broad chest and a determined expression on his youthful face.

“He looks angry,” you observed.

“Oh, I know. Sexy, right?” your friend suggested.

“But, gods, when he smiles…” another girl mused and a few others swooned in agreement.

It seemed his entire fan club had all shown up to get a glimpse of the god of carnal desire - something he both garnered and inspired.

“Did you hear about the time he fucked over twenty women at the same time? He made all of them release on him, one right after the other. I think another god challenged him and said he couldn’t make twenty women cum in less than ten minutes. He did it in less than four.”

“Oh, yes! I heard that he’s well-endowed too!”

“Ugh, what I wouldn’t give to sit on his cock,” one of them said and the others all moaned in agreement.

“I’ve heard that he can bring a woman to orgasm just by looking at her!” There were a few gasps and a remark about how one of them could probably cum if she looked at him long enough.

“It’s no surprise that not a single female he’s ever propositioned has turned him down. He always gets what, or rather who he wants. Always.”

“So strange that he only has a few mistresses at a time. You’d think he’d have the biggest harem of all the gods.”

When the speech was over, Daichi’s fan club sighed as he retired back to the council house. You and your friend invited the small group of young ladies to go with you to a local tavern after sunset.

You’d been there for about an hour when one of your new acquaintances squeaked, “Oh my gods, no fucking way! It’s him! It’s Daichi!”

The rest of you all turned to see him walk in with a small entourage of other gods who were exploring the town and enjoying the nightlife. They made their way to one of the heavy wooden tables and had barely taken their seats when a barmaid approached them, presumably to take their drink orders. Minutes later she returned with a trayful of ale pints, which the gods all passed around before slamming their metal mugs together with a loud toast. They chugged their first round down rather quickly, but the next round had already been brought for them. The crowd and music drowned out their voices, but they were all smiling, laughing, and otherwise enjoying themselves with the occasional slap on the back or shoulder.

The other girls around you giggled while musing about the things they would do for a chance to kneel between Daichi's powerful thighs and suck him off. Now that he was closer, you got a better look at him and could better appreciate what your friends had been on about. You turned your attention back to the conversation around you, laughing at the latest proclamation about what one would reduce themselves to just to drag their tongue along his hard length.

The way the skin of your shoulders glowed in the dim lantern-light caught Daichi's eye. From halfway across the room, he’d been admiring the way your eyes would sparkle when you laughed.

You turned away from your friend, pressing your fingertips to your lips when your friend made you laugh even harder. When you opened your eyes again, they were instantly captured by those notorious dark, brown eyes. Daichi. Oh gods, he’s looking right at me, you thought, unable to tear your gaze away.

You held each other’s gazes across the room for several seconds as a handsome smirk formed on his face. Overwhelmed with nervousness, you looked away, unable to handle the intensity of his stare. You felt vulnerable - like you had been exposed under his watchful eye.

He wanted you.

And you wouldn't have been able to breathe again until you looked away. That’s when you became aware of the moisture between your legs. How had he done that to you just by looking at you? You were beginning to believe the rumors about his reputation of being able to bring a woman to orgasm just by holding her in his gaze. You shifted in your seat, squeezing your thighs together for some relief.

You were on your way to the bar to square up your bill when a brawl broke out behind you. A man stumbled backwards after getting punched, knocking you to the ground in the process.

Someone helped you up, making sure you were okay when a couple of approaching male voices called out to the men who were fighting, telling them to break it up. You turned to see Daichi storm right in between them to block the punches of one of the brawlers while one of the other gods put the other in a headlock to restrain him.

“If you lowbrow oafs wanna fight, take it outside! There are women here and one of them just got pushed to the ground because of your reckless behavior!” Daichi glanced over at you. “Either act like civilized men or get the fuck out!”

As the men who’d been fighting grumbled about their fight being over, Daichi held his hand out to you, leading you towards him by your trembling fingers.

“You okay, miss?”

You nodded. “Yes, I think so. Just scared me is all.”

Looking over at the man who’d knocked you down, he said, “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

The man, obviously drunk, hung his head as he glanced up at you. You almost felt sorry for him. “I’m terribly sorry, miss,” he said, wringing his hat in his hands. “I hope you’re not hurt on my account.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

He gave you a small smile and, after getting the nod of approval from Daichi, he turned back to his table.

Daichi put a large hand on the small of your back. “You sure you’re okay? You still seem a bit shaken up.”

“Y-yes. I’ll probably have a couple of bruises tomorrow, but-“ You hissed when you tried to dust your palms off before turning them up to see scrapes on the heels of your hands where you’d broken your fall against the dirty wooden floor.

"Excuse me! Barmaid! Will you please fetch a bowl of clean water, as well as a rag and some bandages?” The woman set about her errand while Daichi sat down next to you at a nearby table.

“You don’t have to do this. I’ll be okay…I just wanna pay my bill and get out of here.”

He glanced at you as he got a closer look at your scraped-up hands. “Let’s at least clean the dirt off first. Wouldn’t want you to get an infection now would we?”

You huffed your concession as the barmaid set the requested items down on the table. Daichi thanked her and said, “Oh, and put this young lady’s bill on my tab.”

“No, that’s not necessary, please-“ you started, but the woman was already on her way to the bar to fulfill his wishes.

“Never mind the fact that you’ve enjoyed an evening of free drinks, are you really going to argue with a god?” He smirked as he held one of your hands over the bowl and squeezed excess water from the rag to rinse it off.

You winced from the sting. He had a point. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

He huffed out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Relax. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Are you helping me or not? Don’t you think I’ve been through enough tonight?” You bit your lip through the pain when he rinsed off your other hand.

But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The way he raised his eyebrows at you said it all.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath before mumbling, “Again, sorry. I’m just really tired and ready to go home.”

“What? Don’t like my company?” he asked, his knee brushing your thigh as he reached for the bottle of alcohol.

You watched as he pulled the cork out with his teeth and grinned at you. You tried and failed to stifle your own smile, covering your lips with the back of your free hand.

His eyes flashed to your censored lips and asked, “Why do you hide your smile?”

“W-well..” He’d put you on the spot. “I suppose I’m a bit shy and don’t like drawing a lot of attention?” You sucked air between your teeth when he poured the alcohol over your palms.

“Even if it’s positive attention?”

“Are you trying to work your magic on me?”

He threw his head back in a belly laugh. “Safe to say that you know who I am, then?”

“Of course, I do," you shrugged. "Everyone does."

“Is that right?” He lifted his dark brown eyes to meet yours. “Your friends seem to know who I am. Do you think what they say about me is true?”

Your face got hotter as he moved in a little closer. “Um, I- I uhh…how would I know?”

His voice dropped an octave as his eyes grew darker. “Do you want to know? I can show you.”

Your friend rushed over to you, the other girls having already left. “Oh, Y/n, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for y-“ That’s when she noticed the sex god she had such a massive crush on with your hand in his over a bowl of blood-tinged water. With a balanced mixture of concern and giddiness, she asked, “Oh gods, are you okay, Y/n? What happened?” Her eyes flicked between you and Daichi, but his attention was too focused on wrapping your hands in bandages to pay her much mind.

“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up as collateral damage in a bar fight.”

“There you are,” Daichi said as he tightened the final knot around your wrist. “Leave them bandaged when you go to sleep tonight. Clean and re-dress them in the morning and after bathing. Tch, too bad there isn’t a healing god here tonight. Must be tough being a mortal…” Heat spread from your cheeks to your ears when he smiled and winked at you, handing you the remainder of the clean bandages. “Here, take these with you.”

“Thank you so much for…well, everything,” you said with a modest smile.

“You sure you don’t want me to kiss them for you?” he teased, indicating your hands.

You waved him off and chuckled. “Good night, deity.”

“Good night, mortal.” Daichi glanced over to your friend before training his devouring eyes on you again. “Be well.”

Just as Daichi turned to walk away another patron brushed past him, forcing him to press his hips against you. The bulge of his mostly soft cock was evident in the way it made its impression against your butt. Your shoulder pressed against his hard chest as his hot breath dusted your cheek. You closed your eyes and fought the urge to moan at the contact.

You were still a virgin and there was only one other time you’d been that close to a man’s genitals. A guy you’d briefly dated had guided your hand inside his trousers while you made out with him before he crawled between your legs and dry-humped you until he came in his pants. Even just from brushing against you, you could tell that Daichi was bigger – much bigger – than that guy had been.

Smirking, the god of lust turned his dark brown eyes away before his body followed. He walked away wordlessly, knowing that the ‘accidental’ situation he’d just created - knowing that you had just felt him - made the matter of you throwing yourself at him one of natural course. It had worked every time, particularly on mortal women.

Chapter II ↣

copyright © kingdaddydaichi 2021-2022 → do not repost, edit, or translate any of my original work without permission → all rights reserved

[vixenpen]

Oooooooh I got a steamy request queen! How about we have Shoto (Hawks, Baku, or Kiri; whoever YOU think should do it) as a well-known maaseur that immediately took interest in us black!readers when we come in his shop and we get a body massage from him. However, his hands are GODLY and he hits all the tender spots and we have to keep ourselves from moaning cuz it feels so good and we don’t want him to be weirded out but he lowkey is getting just as turned on and even touches up our nether bits (like our ass) which escalates to us fucking in the room???? 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Love ya lots queen and keep up writing, your work is amazing!!! 🤎🤎

Working out the kinks (Bakugo x Black! Reader)

(I haven’t finished this yet. So please ignore it 😂 I meant to save it to my drafts and accidentally posted it so I’m working on it bit by bit)

“Just get undressed to the point you’re comfortable with and I’ll be back in a few.”

“Sure. You nodded.”

And with that Katsuki left you in the dim, candlelit room to undress.

Once Katsuki had stepped out of the room, he allowed his mind to run wild. Damn you were fine. All melanated curves, smooth skin, and bright eyes.

While you did your thing in the back, the man headed for the bathroom to stroke himself off to the thought of those beautiful brown curves under his touch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did she have to come in today? No fuckin’ way I’m gonna be able to concentrate.

He thought as he spilled his seed into a tissue and threw it away. Hopefully busting that nut would be enough to keep him from popping another hard on in the room.

Minutes later it Seemed like you had gotten completely naked from the way the white sheet was hugging your beautiful brown body.

Shit, she’s sexy as fuck. I gotta calm down and stay professional.

He thought as he rolled the sheet lower on your hips. He was grateful you were facedown with your eyes closed so you couldn’t see him eye humping that fat ass of yours.

“Let me know if the pressure is too deep, yeah?” He mentioned, warming the scented oil between his large palms.

Little did he know his gruff, deep voice and those words had your pussy clenching.

“Ok.” You hummed too relaxed to speak above a whisper.

Then you felt those big, capable hands pressing out all the tension and strain you’d been feeling for the past few weeks, and had to actively fight back a moan.

Instead a deep sigh rolled out of you as the masseuse kneaded sore and locked muscles.

“You’re really tight here, Ms. Y/n. Carry a lot of tension in this area?”

“Yeah~” you moaned.

The sweet sound of it made Katsuki’s dick jump.

“Would you be ok if I went a little deeper with it?” He asked in what was almost a purr. “If not that’s ok.”

“No you can go deeper,” you replied, “I like deep pressure.”

I bet you fuckin’ Do.

The man thought as he slid his hands and his gaze lower, imagining that he was massaging your round ass. He put his all into his hand work. Finally, you couldn’t hold back anymore, a long groan escaped your lips.

The man’s hands paused. He felt his dick stand to attention. At the same time, you tensed completely on the table.

“I-I am so sorry.” You stammered.

A rough laugh met your ears and made you shift. It was such a warm, manly sound.

“Don’t be,” your masseuse replied, “those are the kinds of sounds I like to hear.”

Your breath caught as his big, warm palms moved down to your hips and butt.

“I try to draw those sounds out as much as possible.” He purred. “Moaning and putting you to sleep is the goal.”

Fuck...

You thought. Katsuki laughed.

“I wish.”

“Wh-wait, what? Did I say that out loud.”

The man laughed again. “Sure did.”

“I-I really didn’t mean to. It just...feels so good.”

“Bet it does.” He replied.

“Did you say, I wish?” You replied.

“Hey, you started it.” You heard the smirk in his voice.

“You tilted to look at the massage therapist.” In his plain scrubs you could see his broad chest flexing beneath the thin material. Your eyes ran down his bulging biceps and to the big hands on your hips.

You bit your lip before glancing up at Katsuki.

He licked his own lips back at you.

“You know you’ve got another thirty minutes.”

Your pussy warmed again with want.

“What are you suggesting?” You asked.

He slid the sheet down your hips and grabbed the mounds of your ass in his hands, giving it a massage.

“Let me work on some other kinks, yeah?”

[littlemisspascal]

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,320

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍

Part 2

Cross-posted on AO3

For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.

At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.

The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.

But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.

At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.

The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.

Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village. 

There is no normalcy to return to anymore.

And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.

__

Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.

The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.

But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him. 

Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”

You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?

“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”

“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth. 

Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed. 

“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.

He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”

“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”

Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.

He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?” 

If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.

You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”

__

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit. 

“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not. 

“You don’t have one, do you?”

Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.

“Hey!”

“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”

A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital. 

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”

When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”

She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”

A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence. 

As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”

__

Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force. 

To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read. 

He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.

To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”

It is a statement, not a question. 

You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”

“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”

It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered. 

Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.

“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”

You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other. 

“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice. 

“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic. 

A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force. 

You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”

“...A what?”

You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.

“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”

He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”

“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”

And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.

Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’ 

You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:

“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”

And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.

__

The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship. 

“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”

“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to. 

“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.

He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”

A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.

You nod decisively. “I like it.”

His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?

He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.

You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks. 

For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.

Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.

“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”

He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs. 

You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.

None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.

“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.

You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?” 

He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.

Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.” 

Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.

When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.

You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.

“Please work, please work, please work…”

An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.

You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.

“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”

He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”

“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”

You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”

“I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”

He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced? 

And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching. 

Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen. 

Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?

You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.

And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility. 

It is a guarantee.

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[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

The new Arrivals- Part 8

Soooo I messed up yesterday and jumped the gun a little on the 200 followers thing. Basically I accidentally hit post now after editing, instead of save as a draft. But I've reached 200 followers now so I'm celebrating again! Thank you all so much for all the support, I honestly can't believe how wonderful you all are, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you 🖤💚🖤

My master post is here with all the other parts!

Pairing: Loki x Female reader

Summary: You are Y/N the Goddess of Victory, niece of Tony Stark and you run the Avengers training facility based in the Highlands of Scotland. Thor, Loki and a ship full of Asgardians arrive and you need to help.

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+ Don’t make me ban you horny teens) unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), some cock warming and Dom Loki

Any Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love so far. You guys are amazing!

Let me know if you want me to keep writing more! And if you want added to the tag list!

@word-addict-lisette @with-inked-solace @queen-of-mischief @faraum

The next morning you awoke, head pounding, and your naked body entwined with Loki’s. Last night had certainly been fun, between the party, admitting your feelings to Loki and the phenomenal fucking you were sore all over, but it had been so worth it. But sadly, you knew you had to accept it was going to be back to reality. Today was the day you were going to tell the team everything, about Thanos, Your mother’s death and of course the infinity stones. You gently creeped out of bed to go prepare yourself, throwing on one of Loki’s shirts and rolling up the sleeves. The smell of him wrapped around you, soothing your worried mind. You knew today was going to be difficult. There was going to be a lot of questions and as much as you didn’t really want to relive the horror’s you had seen in the necklace’s shared memories you had seen with Loki’s help; you knew it was going to be important for the team to know everything. Sneaking out of your room you decided to surprise Loki with breakfast in bed, He had already done so much for you that you figured it was the least you could do for him. You weren’t usually one for breakfast, but today you where ravenous, probably something to do with the bottle of champagne you downed at the party and the other one you and Loki had stole and taken back to your room to continue the party in bed after your display on the balcony. You arrived in the kitchen to find Thor eating a cold pop tart wearing a pair of big sunglasses that you were pretty sure belonged to your aunt Pepper. A sight that made you break down nearly pissing yourself laughing. “Rough night Casey Jones?” you teased pouring some hot water into tea pot and placing it on the breakfast tray. “Who is this Mr Jones?” Thor said sleepily confused at your statement, slightly slurring his words, “But yes, my night clearly wasn’t as good as you and Loki’s” he grinned elbowing you, pulling down his sunglasses to look at you over the top of them, a twinkle in his bloodshot eye. You rolled your eyes, trying to supress the blush that was threatening to turn your face into a tomato. “Yeah, sorry about that. We didn’t know we had an audience” You mumbled while shoving some bread into the toaster, trying not to make eye contact with him. “Oh, don’t apologise Y/N! you gave us all quite the performance. Spectacular in fact. Remind me to congratulate my brother when I see him” Thor grinned. “Don’t. You. Dare.” You warned Thor, grabbing hold of his shirt, to which he held out his hand and booped your nose with his finger, literally saying “Boop!” you laughed, shaking your head letting him go since he was clearly still drunk, and more interested in overdosing on cold sugary pop tarts. You finished preparing some Greek yogurt with fruit and drizzled some orange blossom honey on top before buttering your toast and heading back to your room, hoping Thor’s yelling hadn’t woken up Loki. When you arrived back at the room, using your magic to open the door, you found the bed empty and Loki out on the balcony, leaning over the railing dressed only in jogging bottoms, looking out at the horizon. After sitting the tray on the bed, you walked up behind the God, wrapping your arms around his waist, running your hands over his abs, and placing kisses on his toned back. “I made us breakfast, if you want to come back to bed?” you said sweetly to Loki in between kisses, placing your head on his shoulder. He turned around picking you up, you wrapped your legs around him and he carried you back to bed where he wouldn’t let you off his lap, you could feel your own arousal beginning to soak his jogging bottoms, his own erection rubbing against you. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asked you commandingly, quietly speaking into your ear. You nodded, shifting slightly on his lap, desperate for any friction against your aching core. “Good girl, now kneel up for me darling” he asked, and you obeyed. He released his throbbing length from his joggers, before instructing you to face away from him and ease back down onto his cock with your back flush against his

chiselled chest. “You’re going to sit here, on your God’s cock, not moving while we enjoy the breakfast you’ve prepared for us. If you manage to make it through breakfast without coming, then and only then I will fuck you senseless my dear” He purred into your ear, making you ache even more, your arousal dripping down to the base of his thick cock, his low voice sending vibrations of pleasure through your entire body. He instructed you to lean forward to pass the food over, making you lift further up off his cock, before resting back down with your bowl of yogurt, fruit, and honey, making you let out a small whimper as his cock filled you up to the hilt again when you returned to his lap. You dripped a little honey off the spoon onto your fingers by accident and Loki seductively and slowly sucked it off each individual finger, savouring the taste of the honey mixed with your skin, making your pussy twitch around him. He chuckled darkly, before returning to his food, clearly enjoying the effect he had over you. After a torturous 30 minutes had passed, during which you nearly came twice, just from Loki’s relentless teasing, you had both finished your food. “Would you like to cum now my pet?” Loki growled in your ear, before sucking on your neck. “Yes please, my God” you moaned throwing back your head. “Then ride your God’s cock, make yourself cum then my needy little Goddess”, With a wave of Loki’s hand you where both naked, he grabbed both your breasts with his hands massaging them as you began to move up and down milking his cock, hungry for the release you had been denied. As he pinched your sensitive nipples you called out to him, “You look so beautiful coming undone on your God’s cock” he growled, Enjoying watching you fuck him in the reflection of the mirrors in front of the bed, you felt his cock twitch inside you coating your walls with his hot cum, as it began dripping down your thighs, his gaze never left yours from the reflection in the mirror, “Such a glorious sight” Loki purred, taking you chin in his hands to pull you into a passionate kiss. After a moment you dismounted and he scouped you up taking you into the shower with him to clean up.

Later that morning in the conference room, you caught everyone up to speed, about Thanos, the years of torture Loki endured by him, your mother’s fate and how Loki still had the Tesseract that Thanos would be coming for. Loki stood next to you, at the end of the conference table, placing a supportive hand on the small of your back, reassuring you. “I’ve already discussed this with Y/N, but I think the best plan of action is to get the Tesseract off this planet. I don’t want to endanger anyone else” Loki explained looking guilty. “As good as that Idea is Loki, there’s not much point in that, Vision has the mind stone, So Thanos will be coming to earth regardless” Natasha stated, “and I’m sworn to protect the time stone” and unfamiliar hologram of a man appeared at the table, “And you are?” You asked, “Dr Steven Strange” he introduced himself, giving a small wave. “So, what you’re trying to tell me is that there’s currently three infinity stones here on earth?!” You yelled, pinching the bridge of your nose, wondering how this could have possibly slipped anyone’s notice. “This is a nightmare” you sighed. “Steve” you said looking at his hologram sitting at the table, “You need to take Natasha and Sam when they arrive and go looking for Wanda and Vision, we need to get him under protection ASAP, their tracker was turned off near Edinburgh, so it may be worthwhile starting your search there” you ordered, taking a shot of whiskey from the glass you made appear on the table. “Dr Strange, we need you to get yourself here to the Avengers compound ASAP” you said pointing at the hologram of him. “Very well, I’ll see you all soon” he said, ending the call. Thor interrupted you stating, “Well I’m going to Nidavellir. If this Thanos is as powerful as we fear, then I’m going to need a new hammer. Since my sister broke the last one.” He said bursting into tears. You watched as your uncle Tony put a reassuring arm around Thor, sarcastically saying, “There, there Point Break. I’ll come with you too, but come with me first, I have something for you” he said while standing up to go to his workshop, dragging a weeping Thor along with him. “You too kid, I’ve got a gift for you too” Tony called back pointing to Peter, who leaped up and ran over to him like a kid on a sugar high. As the meeting ended and everyone began to leave and go their separate ways Loki turned to you, concern written across his handsome face, “Y/N I don’t think the best plan of action is sitting around here waiting for Thanos to show up and massacre us all” Loki pleaded, taking your hands in his. “We need to go with Thor and Stark, away from here, away from this planet. The Tesseract is the next logical stone Thanos will want to get, He needs it to travel were he wants without the need to take his ship everywhere.”, “Okay, that makes sense” you thought out loud, nodding and taking Loki by the hand, heading towards Tony’s workshop. “Uncle Tony, we’re coming too” you said, walking into the room, only to be greeted by Thor looking at you, with both eyes. “It’s a perfect match for the other one,” Tony started, “Can’t have you walking around looking like a space pirate Point break” he laughed slapping Thor on his bicep. Tony turned to look at you and Loki, as you explained why it was best for you to come with them. Begrudgingly he agreed, and you headed off to make the necessary preparations. Loki suggested using a device that the Tesseract could sit in and transport you all to Nidavellir, Cutting the journey time, but he warned that Thanos would be able to detect the Tesseract as soon as it’s used, however depending on where he was it would take him a while to reach you on Nidavellir.

Back in your room with Loki, you suited up, dressed in an armoured black and purple leather and mesh catsuit, complete with silver ornate daggers strapped into holders on your thighs. You finished lacing up your knee-high combat boots when you turned to see Loki emerging. Wearing the same ornate black and blue leather armour, with an emerald-green cape topped with large gold horns, decorating his head. It was the same armour he had been wearing when he arrived and changed your life one week ago. “You look like a king” you smiled, strutting over to him, and placing a kiss to his lips as you ran your hand along his golden crown. “And you my love, look like a Goddess” he grinned capturing your lips with his again. Before heading down to the others, you clipped on your father’s necklace, looking into the floor length mirror gripping it with your hand as if asking for support in the days to come. You knew this was going to be the biggest challenge of your life, so far. You just hoped everyone would come out the other side of it intact. Downstairs in the main living area, you and Loki were greeted to the sight of Tony in full Ironman gear and Thor wearing some intricate armour, a similar style to Loki’s with a flowing red cape behind him. “Uncle Tony” you smiled looking at him, “Shakespear in the park?” you laughed looking at Thor, who just rolled his eyes saying, “You really are a Stark”. “Okay, are we all ready for this?” Thor continued. “Nidavellir is the weapons forge for the most glorious weapons, we might even pick you up something Y/N, if you think your worthy.” he smiled. “Let’s go” you smiled, holding Loki’s hand, and holding onto the contraption that held the Tesseract with the other, as you were all engulfed in a bright blue light.

Any Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love so far. You guys are amazing, thank you all so much!

Let me know if you want me to keep writing more! And if you want added to the tag list!

[radioactive-earthshine]

I only started watching s.4 because of Orion so you're not alone my friend! I was going to wait until it was finished to watch it but I got curious and am invested. If he dies I'm not sure I even want to complete the series. I know literally nothing about him but I see a lot of myself in him from the show. People always get my tone and intentions wrong like I think I am being nice but people tell me no you were being really rude and your tone was harsh and I'm like ???? I was SMILING? So I really feel him and how Rocket just can't seem to see that he seems to be constantly aware of his presence and his tone doesn't equal his self. I have had a lot of people not want to be around me because they misinterpret my tone and think I am basically bitch when I'm not I'm just direct and my autism makes it hard for me to adjust my tone without it coming off as sarcastic or bad acting. Sorry if this is out of no where but I just wanted to tell someone because I have never seen that before where it hit me.

My Tumblr is doing something bizarre.

This was the ask I said that I accidentally deleted when I tried to save my response as a draft and now it is back in my inbox as if I never touched it.

Apologies for the runaround and the confusion! I really wanted to publish this the day I got it weeks ago!

Thankfully Orion did not die and with any luck we will get to see more of him in Earth 16, if not in the last few episodes that remain for season four then hopefully in subsequent seasons if we get a damn renewal.

Earth 16 Orion is overall a good representation of who he is, but of course with some differences to make him distinct to this particular universe. I really appreciated the autism coding. Orion's character has been assassinated by so many writers seeing this is very refreshing. There's a lot I could go into here but I will likely save that for another post.

I really am enjoying this season so much because we are seeing so much depth and diversity to characters; depth and diversity that we have not really been able to see until now.

I feel represented and I am glad we have these characters with these scenarios and flaws and diversity out in the public so it makes conversations a little easier within certain groups.

I am also so glad that you personally got to see yourself. Thank you for sharing this with me and again I am sorry for the runaround.

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color. 

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain. 

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them. 

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself. 

Okay. 

Alright. 

No distractions. 

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal. 

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way. 

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. 

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them. 

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again. 

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two. 

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too. 

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat. 

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?” 

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times. 

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us. 

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second. 

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one. 

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?” 

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents. 

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing. 

Flash nodded. 

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started. 

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god. 

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp. 

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake. 

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition. 

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Umm maybe one with Cal (obvi lol) where he randomly posts you. Maybe you've been dating for 3 years and they only see blurs of your face or the back of your head when you go see him or go to events with him. And its a long ass caption about how you're that BITCH and he loves you so much. And then you see and are like "bro wtf" and you ask him about and he shrugs it off and says he wanted to world to see his world

So, I’m a whole dumbass and accidentally deleted the first draft of this. But I managed to save it, even though I have the memory of a goldfish. I hope you enjoy. 

Take a gander at my masterlist!

Reader Insert. No specific race, gender, or sexuality! 

__________________________________

Gratitude

Calum’s body is sprawled across yours. His head is on your chest. His arms are wrapped around you, meeting at your back, hugging you like a child clutches onto their favorite stuffed animal. But it’s you. And you are no stuffed animal. Your fingers lightly drag through the blonde but turning brunette strands. They’ve started to curl in around each other. You wonder if he’s ever going to ask you to cut his hair, if you guys will join the cull of people in desperate times. He has clippers and guards under the sink. It’s not like he hasn’t resorted to the buzz at home before. You’re not going to push it though. There’s enough to worry about as it stands. 

There’s promotion before the album’s release and now after too. There are interviews at all times of the day it seems. There was shooting at home for the ‘Wildflower’ music video. If it’s not something he brings up, you’re definitely not going too. There’s plenty already to worry about. Maybe even too much to worry about. But you’re glad that Calum’s found a moment to rest. It’s evaded you though, for the moment and for the last couple of days if you’re honest. Even with a pretty consistent sleep schedule, you still find your mind racing. Like there’s not plenty of time for that during the day. 

Reaching up, you grab your phone from the edge of the back of the couch, right on the ledge. You placed it there not worried about it falling, when Calum first collapsed into you. You figure there’s nothing wrong, for the moment, to expose yourself to some blue light and social media. It all feels like a fog though. Twitter is nothing but the same memes, the same ads, the sameness of everyone ghosting into a void where sometimes the void echoes back. And down and down you go, liking some tweets here and there, but to no avail to find any real distractions. Occasionally, you snort at a meme, but it’s just a quick chuckle. 

You turn to Instagram. You’re bound to have the same results, something so mind numbing it can’t even numb anymore. And as the app loads, you watch all the people with icons shuffling across the top of the screen. You tap on the first one and let it cycle all the way through, before repeatedly tapping through them. You pause at ones that look interesting, watching them all the way through. One hand drifts back down to Calum’s head, scratching ever so lightly at his scalp. He burrows deeper into you, squeezing you in his arms just a little. 

Swiping away from the stories, you scroll the posts and not even three posts down, you notice the photo of yourself. Then you see Calum’s account as the culprit. It’s of your silhouette mostly as you twirl under streetlights. You remember then the photo was snapped. Just eight months into your relationship and you had been given a promotion at work. Calum wanted to celebrate by grabbing a quick treat from your favorite bakery. It was late and you felt like being a little fancy, and stopped by a bar just to grab one drink. One celebratory drink. And as the two of you exited, rain started to fall. Rain in L.A. isn’t too common and you had to bask in the moment, just for a moment, since it was so light. So you started laughing as you spun around the sidewalk. You hadn’t even noticed Calum snapping the photo until you saw it as his homescreen two weeks later. 

There are several blue dots at the bottom of the picture. So you swipe left. This photo is of you, too, but your face is mostly hidden by Duke’s body, just a portion of your forehead and eye visible because of the angle. It had to be from a year or so into the relationship given the style and length of your hair. And you nearly laugh at yourself for thinking that a year was so early on, now that you’re three years into this. But god, it really was early on. Now you can’t picture your morning routine without Calum being grumpy and without Duke whining to be let out and Calum pouting that Duke’s steals all your attention. You always rectify the pouts with two kisses to his forehead and never less than those two kisses either. 

Taking a quick moment, you look around for the old man and spy him curled up at the end of your feet. And you have to grin. He’s never too far from Calum at all when Calum’s home. You turn your attention back to your phone and swipe again. The next photo is of half your face. A little blurred thanks to Calum’s shaky hands and questionable photography skills. But you can tell, thanks to the grass below and the wristband this was from the Coachella adventures. You swipe again. It’s your full face, hidden by some shadows as you laugh from the top of the ladder. From the ventures of painting the bedroom again, it was nothing drastic but still, took you and Calum two days to finish the painting. As you swipe again, there’s one last photo, of you three days, grinning hard into the camera while leaning against the kitchen counter. You were just waiting for the water to boil and listening to a podcast before starting dinner. You noticed Calum coming into the kitchen and when he mumbled for you to look up at him, you saw the phone and smiled as hard as you could. 

As time goes on, things get clearer. Being with you just makes sense. And I know when you see this, you’ll probably be a little mad. Duke, I’ll need to share that bed with you. I can only hope it’s big enough.  I’m not sure why it’s hard to say to you right now, face to face. You’re just on the couch and I’m just at the kitchen table. And I know, I’m a pretty private guy. But something about being with you just makes sense, so much damn sense. It’s just been us, when the road got narrow and when it was all too easy to walk, hell, maybe even run along, we still had each other. No relationship sails smoothly and no planes out there that’s ever flown doesn’t hit some turbulence. Every time though, we’ve come out stronger and together still. There’s no important date for this, the 3rd anniversary has come and gone, but there seems like no better time to say thank you. So, thankyou. Thankyou. Thankyou.  

You don’t realize there are tears until one slips down your cheek and splashes onto the phone screen. Your inhale is shaky and you’re trying to swallow down the sobs. They still come through, like coughs from your chest and you’re sure you’re trembling. Calum feels you shaking, squeezing again unsure if you’re moving out from underneath him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, readjusting the position of his head. 

He doesn’t miss the sniffle though and when he sits up, eyes admittedly still puffy with sleep, and sees you with one hand over your mouth and tears streaking your face, he panics. “Baby? What the hell happened?” He’s cupping your face, wiping at the tears and soon, he’s sitting completely up, and against the couch cushions. You pull your leg out from behind his body. Calum waste no time to tuck you up into his arms, chin resting on the top of your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“I saw the post,” you manage to get out, now able to control the emotions racking through you. 

His grip slackens. You hear the rumble of his soft laugh. “So is the couch cushions my source of warmth tonight?”

You have no problem with Calum posting photos. You just hadn’t expected him to post something like that. Pushing up to your knees, you gently cup his cheek. He reciprocates the tender hold. “No, I was just shocked that’s all. Came out of left field.” His thumb clears away the stray tears and yours just gently brushes along the stumble that’s started to prick through his skin. 

“I just love you, that’s all. And we’ve been together for three years and I can see three more together, and three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after. And hell, twenty after that. Just wanted the world to see my world.”

“Calum Thomas, you’re so fucking cheesy, but goddamn do I love you.” He gives a quick smile before you capture his lips, hands cupping both cheeks. And soon you trail them up his nose, kissing between his brows, over each eye and then kissing twice on his forehead. 

-H