#I haven’t finished lost but I assume this is how people feel about that ending as well and if so I’m scared to finish lost

[writeouswriter]

If you ever find yourself thinking, “maybe I should re-listen to the The Black Tapes, I miss the vibe of The Black Tapes,” STOP, THAT IS THE DEVIL TALKING

[coffee-at-daybreak]

what we want | teldryn sero x reader

Ever since you helped clear Raven Rock mine recently, the town was seeing a boom in business. Miners were flocking to get their share of work in. As a result, the Retching Netch would become quite hectic every night, seeing as all the exhausted workers just wanted a nice meal and drink and a comfy place to stay. You were lucky to have come into the inn when you did, before the rush, so you managed to snag a table tucked away in the corner. You stare at the half-finished loaf of bread you’d been picking at, lost deep in thought despite the ruckus around you.

You’re jolted out of it when you feel a boot tap against your own under the table. “Still awake, serjo?” Teldryn asks.

You look up at him, met with his slightly concerned but amused red eyes. “Huh?”

“You haven’t even had a drink yet and you look out of it.” He tilts his head. “Everything alright?”

How dare he ask you that, with that damned helmet off, staring at you with those damned alluring eyes, on that damned captivating face of his. You’ve seen it before, but the effect it has on you is just as intense as the first time - your skin gets warm, your mouth goes dry, and your belly feels like it’s housing a frenzied moth with all its fluttering.

But you maintain your composure, thank the gods. You nod at him. “Y-yes, I’m just … thinking.”

“About what?”

You gulp, nervousness wringing your already unstable belly into a knot. “Well…"

Teldryn chuckles. “Uh oh.”

There’s a long pause as he patiently waits for you to gather your words. The sound of voices and laughter echo off the walls of the inn. You toss around options in your head for a moment, but you finally go with the blunt, flat approach.

“What are we?” You ask.

He simply stares at you for a second. “..What?” He finally shoots back, in a tone that makes you feel like you just asked something silly.

But it’s not something silly to you. There’s a lot about him and your relationship that you do know. You know that you started out as a simple patron and hireling pair. You were acquaintances, people who talked only to discuss plans and money and whatnot. Then you were friends - you talked about your backgrounds, about your adventures, about your interests and dreams. You went from simply using his company, to actually cherishing it.

And you don’t know when, or how, but you strayed onto the messy path of more than friends. His lingering touches when he helped adjust your armor. The soft tone you started to adopt when you said his name. The way you two embraced after a brutal, exhausting battle at a bandit fort. Sharing a bed at an inn or holding hands to stay together in a crowded city. In the heat of the moment, these things all came naturally to you, and you honestly had never given it much thought before.

But it hit you this morning, when you two had been locked in a practice sparring session, and one particular moment had you mere inches apart, and all you wanted to do was pin him down and kiss the life out of him. But he’d leaned back, declaring you’d had enough practice and it was time to get moving. And you’d finally felt the strangling weight of that dreaded thought.

You didn’t know what you were - just a patron and their hireling, or something more.

“W-well, it’s just…” You rub at your neck nervously. Your pulse sounds like thunder in your ears. “I don’t want to assume anything, but sometimes it feels like… maybe we…”

You can’t even get the words out. There’s a strange, suffocating fear gripping at your chest. You can’t help but worry that this will turn out to be a grand misunderstanding, and you’ll be made to look like a fool. Knowing that could end in Teldryn leaving your side is all the more terrifying.

He is silent for a second, which only increases your fear. Then he’s cracking a smile, one side of his mouth lifting. “You are adorable, Dovahkiin.”

Heat grows under your cheeks. You watch him as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. His boot taps yours again, playfully.

“What do you want us to be?” He asks.

You blink at him. “Wha- you can’t ask me that!”

“Why not?” He laughs.

“You could be setting me up here,” you mumble. The warmth on your skin is spreading everywhere, and you worry you’ll start sweating any minute now.

“Now, now, I may have my dark side, but I’m not evil.” Teldryn’s smile turns into a grin. “I just want to hear you say it.”

“You are the worst. I regret saying anything.”

“Come on, tell me.” His eyes narrow, staring at you with paralyzing intensity. “What do you want us to be, serjo?”

You fight the urge to pick up your abandoned piece of bread and throw it at him. Instead, you take a deep breath in. You shift your foot under the table, extending it so that your leg leans into his a little. He holds your gaze, but you notice the way his eyes relax from their narrowed glare.

“I want us to be more,” you say, trying to keep your voice as firm and as steady as you can keep it. “I want you to be more than just a mercenary, and I want to be more than just your boss. I want us to be together because we want to be, not because we have to be.”

There’s another tense silence, in which he continues to simply stare at you. Panic overtakes you and you wave your hands in front of you a little. “Unless of course, you don’t want the same. Then I shall pay you a handsome amount of septims and we can pretend I never-”

“Sh.” He interrupts sharply, which works because you stop and look back at him. Your entire body is in overdrive. Your heart feels like it might leap out of your throat.

Teldryn’s smile softens. He unfolds one of his arms and pats at his lap. “Come here.”

You give him a split second “are you insane” look but he urges you again. You swallow the last of your nerves and stand, knees feeling a little weak as you step over to him. You take a very unsure, very careful seat on his leg. One of his arms immediately wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His other arm dives to pick up your legs and drape them across his lap, so you are situated comfortably against him.

It’s not fear that’s fueling your crazed heart rate anymore, but a thrill of elation. Especially your eyes lock with his, and you realize you’ve never seen them this close up before, their intense red color more hypnotizing than ever. In the cozy lantern lights of the inn, you could sit and study his details forever, from the angles of his face to the tiniest scar notched into his skin.

“Firstly, I don’t do this with any of my patrons,” he says , his voice so much closer and warmer, now that you hear it better amongst the noise of the inn.

“I’d hope not. Because if so, you might be in the wrong field of employment,” you quip, and his body quivers beneath your own with his laughter. You snake an arm around his neck, resting it over his shoulders. You can’t help but smile, a cheesy but genuine smile. Relief starts to sweep through you, eradicating the last of your worries.

“Second, consider this my resignation as your hireling,” Teldryn continues.

You arch an eyebrow in question. “What is your new title, then?” You dare to ask.

His hand moves off your leg and reaches out to take your own hand into it. You’d never felt his hand without his gloves on before. His skin is calloused but warm, and like him, it feels so strong, so protective.

He lifts your joined hands to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “Yours. All yours,” he murmurs against your skin.

Were he not holding you so firmly right now, you might have actually swooned. That flutter in your abdomen floats up to your chest, where your heart feels like it’s blooming in joy. You don’t even care if there happens to be anyone looking at you two. It’s hard to care about anything else right now when he’s holding you like this, and looking at you with a tenderness reserved for only you.

“I do like the sound of that,” you admit. “I’ll approve it, so long as we make it fair and you consider me yours as well.”

He grins up at you, his arm giving you a playful squeeze around your abdomen. “Deal.” Then he lowers his arm at your back, which drops you just enough for him to lean in and join your lips together, as if to seal your new agreement.

[2012wannabe]

One Bad Night

cw/tw: I played something that I knew would probably trigger me and then was all surprised pikachu face when it did soooo we have this! Don’t be like me lmao. Reader gets drugged at a party and you can fill in the blanks. Tbh I haven’t drank in so fucking long so if that part is inaccurate we can just ignore.

mid write update: I was like ‘oh I wasn’t triggered that bad’ and decided to finish the game which got 10 times worse and now I want to curl in a ball d*e so um anyway I hate this but if ppl like it I’ll do the second part like I was planning to.

abby x reader, reader is r*ped at a party, date r*pe drug, hurt/comfort, Slight weed usage mention, dr*gging, trauma

When you told Abby you were going to that party, she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest. She dreaded it and wanted so badly to tell you to stay home. Thinking about it the whole day leading up to the party she wrestled to find a good reason for you not to go.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to go, but I just have a bad feeling. Please stay home with me, please.” Abby pleaded.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll have Ellie and Dina there with me.” You said. That didn’t do much to comfort Abby but your mind was made up.

“Is your phone fully charged along with your portable? Do you have your pepper spray and your taser?” She asked fervently.

“Yes to all of those things. I’ll be back in our bed safe and sound before you know it.” You said kissing her.

“Ellie and Dina are almost here, they’re picking me up. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Forget about me, I’m worried about you,” Abby muttered. You kissed her again and reassured her before walking out the door. Still, she felt unsettled and sat awake awaiting your return. She tried to calm her nerves, but nothing would do. You could do everything right and and still fall victim to the wrong person. The clock ticked on, 10, 11, 12, 1, 2 before Abby’s phone buzzed startling her. She anxiously responded, assuming the worst.

You had texted from the party, stumbling and your hands shaking. You had to strain to remember how you found yourself in a bed in one of the bedrooms that were on the second floor.

Her heart sunk into her chest, shattering like glass. She could kick herself. Abby wasted no time jumping in the car and speeding off to the party you left to. All the while you could barely follow the conversation as a bubble of panic started to form in your chest.

Her whole body shook as she voiced her texts into her phone microphone. She should have never let you go to that party, she chastised herself. Abby tried to push it down, knowing that you did indeed do everything quote unquote right. You frequented these parties and were familiar with all the people. You had your drink cover and an assortment of weapons. You were always with your friends. She could almost feel tears bubbling in her eyes from her worry about you, hoping that nothig actually happened and she was just thinking about the worst case scenario. She typed out another question, waiting for your answer.

She tried calling you to no avail. Your phone rang and rang but you lost your battle to sleep. She tried Ellie and Dina with unfortunately similar results, Texting them frantically asking where you were.Abby pulled into a spot on the side of the road and very anxiously ran up to the house, letting herself in.

Checking each and every room, Abby’s panic escalated. To her relief in the room at the very end of the hallway, you laid asleep in the big queen sized bed. She rushed in, slipping your phone in her pocket and sitting down next you.

“Hey baby, how are you doing? You scared me a bit.” She said, tucking your hair behind your ear. You awoke slowly and gave her a big smile.

“Abs!” You said,

“You’re here.”

“Did you doubt I would be?”

“Never. Not for a moment.” Your speech was still a bit slurred and there was still a pain in your thighs.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Abby said as picked you up and put you on your feet as if you weighed nothing.

“My strong girl,” you muttered. You gave Abby your things and she helped you back down the hall and out the door, both of you momentarily forgetting the implication of what actually happened to you. You were okay now, at least physically. She lifted you into the passenger seat of her car but when you sat down you couldn’t help but grimace.

“What’s up?” Abby asked.

“Just hurts.” Her heart sank again for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

“Can you show me where it hurts?” You put your hands on your upper thighs and into the space between your legs. Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit.

“You know what, let’s just get home and we can deal with that later ok.” Abby’s heart raced as she got into the drivers seat. She gave you some water she brought and your favorite kind of granola bar. As for you, your mind was just blank. You just stared out the window, not really thinking anything. Just silence echoing in your ears as you ate. In the years to come you would forget most of the details of the night, that morning feeling so far way. Abby tightened her grip on your hand and leaned over to kiss your forehead.

“I love you so fucking much. I can’t tell you how terrified I was that something had happened to you, that I had lost you somehow.” Abby whispered. Tears welled up in your eyes and you scrunched your face, turning away. You gripped Abby’s hand back and couldn’t help but just cry. You were so overwhelmed you didn’t know to feel just speechless, blank. She put her arm around you, pulling you in for a hug as you just all of a sudden felt your world crashing down. You cried and let out a particularly loud sob into her shoulder as she held onto you. Your phone rang, your ringtone cutting into the tense air.

You pulled away, wiped your tears and took a breath,

“Hey els.” Your voice still shook. Sounds of the party still blasted in the background,

“I just got your text and wanted to check up on you. Did Abby pick you up yet?”

“Yeah.” A pause.

“You sound off, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” You lied, not wanting to explain everything the events of the night.

“No you’re not. What’s up?” Ellie asked more sternly.

“I’m good.” You said firmly.

“I just don’t want to talk about it right now. All you need to know is that I’m good.” Hesitating slightly, she agreed.

“Is Dina with you?” You asked.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s right here.” She said, Dina’s slurring voice echoing in the background.

“Okay, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, all right?”

“Okay, get home safe!” The call ended and silence shot through the air. You looked at Abby again and neither of you said anything. For near the rest of the night, you both operated in silence. Abby drive you home, got you out of the car, you both went upstairs and started to get ready for bed. It wasn’t until you had to sit down on the toilet that it felt that all of a sudden your brain turned on again and pain flared through your inner thighs and crotch area. You let out a cry and just started to cry again with your pants still down around your ankles.

“Babe?” Abby said, immediately tending you you. Tears started flowing again and you let your body fall forward, hugging your knees. Abby extended her hand out gripping yours. You used her hand to pull yourself up so that you were standing half nude in front of her with your bruising on full display.

“I don’t…I don’t remember this. I obviously know it happened, but I just sat down to smoke a joint outside on the upstairs balcony and then I was groggy in the bed.” You said. The only thing you could focus on was the salty taste of your own tears that had wet your cheeks and Abby’s every tight grip on your hand. She let a few tears fly too, turning around to briefly wipe her face in attempt to stay strong for you.

“Okay. I appreciate you telling me baby. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” You nodded no in response and held your arms out toward her. She took you in her arms graciously, hugging you tight.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I can get you ice for the bruises and some water.”

“Jus’ want to go back to sleep.”

“Okay, ok.” Abby muttered, bringing you to bed. She put a pair of her own basketball shorts on you with ice packs tucked in the front in addition to your favorite hoodie of hers that you always stole. Your water bottle was sat on the night stand, filled with water and ice, ready for you. When everything was done Abby crawled next you in bed, wrapping her strong arms around you. You calmed for just a moment before muttering to yourself,

“He must have did it wrong.”

“What?”

“He must have did it wrong.” You said louder and clearer. There was a pause.

“Whoever did that to me must have drugged me. I took a shot right before I went up to go smoke which must have been where it happened considering I don’t remember anything after actually smoking. But something went wrong apparently because I was at most half asleep.”

“But you don’t remember the act?”

“No.” Abby swallowed thinking about that. It was probably better that you blocked out the event. The bruising patterns on your body told a clear story and her heart was absolutely broken thinking about what had to say next. It felt like she had cotton in her mouth, trying to to spit it out.

“So, for at least a moment we can’t dance around this. You were raped right?” Abby asked, sucking in a breath. You sighed.

“Yes. I can tell that much. It’s kind of coming back to me.

“Okay.” Abby said carefully.

“How would you feel about getting a rape kit done? You don’t have to, but I think it would be a good idea so that you have all that information should you decide to say something in the future.”

“Only if you come with me.” You said in a low voice, cuddling your body into hers and your face into her neck. Abby’s heart hurt as she said,

“Of course. Of course. We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“Okay, Abs.” You took another deep breath and let your fatigue take over, lulling you to sleep.

[sweethartlullaby]

omg how about unrequited love but fluff at the end

word count: 2341 genre/theme: a little angst, fluff at the end, unrequited love, fake dating songs: heather - conan gray as always, imagine whoever you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I do that?” His head tilts backwards a little as he laughs and you can’t help but smile too. 

“I know you have a +4 in there! It’s all over your face.” You point at the last card in his hands and he shakes his head again. 

“No, I swear on my life. You can put your card down and you’ll see.” He says. You glare at him before you take a matching card and place it on the pile. 

“Bet it’s a four-coloured one too.” You mutter and just as you finish speaking, he slams the predicted card onto the pile, declaring himself the winner. 

“I knew it!”

“And yet you still lost.” You throw your cards at him. 

“That’s the fifth lost now. I’m assuming you’re giving up?” He asks. But when you open your mouth to answer, his phone rings. He takes a look at it and you aren’t sure if it’s his screen or his face actually lights up. 

He doesn’t need to say it for you to tell him.

“Go ahead, she’ll stop texting if you take too long.” You gather the cards into your hands and stack them neatly. He’s putting on his jacket when you place the cards back into their box and onto the shelf.

You can’t even look at him. 

He should’ve left moments ago, but you haven’t heard the door click. 

“Hey, tonight was fun.” You brace yourself to meet his eyes. 

“Let’s do it again.” And there it is. 

The glint of mischief that draws you in every time. You never know what he means when you see that look in his eyes. Does he want to spend more time with you? Wasn’t this supposed to be a strictly professional deal? He gets the girl and you lose the ex. Why does he come to your house, eat dinner with your family, play cards with you; if at the end of it all, he just runs back to her? 

Why do you feel this ache every time he leaves? And it grows even more when it’s because of her? Why do you not want this to stop…ever?

“Yeah, stay safe.” You mutter and he gives you half a smile before he leaves. 

 You don’t want to be here. 

You don’t like the flashing lights, the muffled noises that seep through the cracks and spaces of the house. You don’t like the amount of people that have tried to dance on you this past hour either. But most importantly, you don’t like the way your mind, hazed with alcohol, is paired with the drink in one hand, and your phone in the other, scrolling through your contacts. 

Where is it…

You know you can’t but you have no sense left in you. Your friend is who knows where, probably with another in the bathroom, kissing the night away. You giggle as you click on his contact. It’s almost like a game. Do you dare to press call? What will you say? Whatever it is, it can’t be good. 

You sigh and laugh a little as you place your phone’s face down, away from you. 

“I wish I was kissing someone.” You say to yourself. 

“No, I wish I was kissing him.” You sigh as you trace the invisible lines of his lips in the air. You don’t usually talk about your feelings out loud. But you’re alone in a room, on the grand floor of this glorious spare room that no one has bothered to check. It’s a good thing. The silence is your friend and you are able to say what you think with no cost.

“I should call him and tell him to pick me up. Tell him I’m lonely and that I need him. Maybe then…” Your words trail off and your fingers are frozen in the air. 

“Maybe then, he’ll choose me.” 

“I can treat him better. I won’t throw him aside, or push him away.” You roll onto your side and your palms are flat on the cold floor. 

“I’d love him the way he wants to be loved.” You whisper and close your eyes. 

You can’t tell the exact moment you liked him. You just started to feel so good around him. You seem to smile more when he sends a text. And you laugh at his jokes more. You ask him for his opinion on things and he does the same. 

Maybe it was the time he took you to eat things you hadn’t before. Or it was the time he immediately called you when you told him you were scared after watching a horror movie. Or was it the time he called you pretty? 

He probably does it on purpose. He’s trying to pair the good chemicals in my brain with the things he does so I like him. 

He just wants me to like him. 

“All to leave me high and dry.”

You can’t remember anything from last night. Your head is a mess and everything anyone says is a bunch of jumbled words. Why did you do that when you have a 10 a.m. class?

You stumble into your seat, which you shrink into to avoid the prying eyes. The back row is usually empty, and you thank the heavens for it because you cannot talk to anyone today without vomiting the words, and although hopefully not, possibly your dinner from last night. 

Thirty minutes in and you are fighting the urge to doze off. The only reason you are here is for attendance. You can’t comprehend anything the professor is saying and your hands are struggling to write. 

“Hey,” His voice makes you jump from your seat and you turn to see the rest of his very real body next to you. 

“Please don’t yell, my brain will explode.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Shh.” You shush him and he shakes his head before he takes a thermos out from his backpack and places it on your desk. 

“What’s this?” You croak.

“Hangover soup.” He whispers as you twist the bottle open. The steam wafts into the air before you take a sip, loving the warmth it gives your body. 

“God, I love yo-” You stop yourself before you finish. It must be the leftover alcohol chasing the words off your tongue. 

“The soup. I love the soup.” You whisper before placing it back down on the desk.

“Well, I’m glad. Mom says it might’ve been too unbalanced.” He sinks into his seat and that’s when you realize.

“You made this for me?”

“Yeah, I mean…you sounded pretty drunk last night and I thought-”

“What?” You interrupt. You pray you didn’t hear that right.

“Oh, no I meant your friend told me you got pretty drunk and she called me because she couldn’t find you.”

“Oh.” You relax back into your chair.

“Yeah, she said you were wasted and was worried about you. Glad to see you made it back safe though.” He says and you nod.

“I don’t even know how I am alive right now.” You groan before pulling your hoodie down your face. He chuckles and pats your head.

“There, there, we all make mistakes like these. Next time, bring me along so I can keep you in check.” You nod slowly, keeping your blushing red face away from his view.

How does he know where to poke you, making your insides turn? How does he make the butterflies flap again and again? How do you never get sick of it? 

“Don’t you have class?” You ask after you clear your throat.

“Yeah, I don’t know.” You look up at him.

“Just felt like being here today.” 

“You’re lying.”

But there is no laughter in his tone, and no smile that goes with it. His eyes are pleading you and yet you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

“No.”

“Yes, you are. Just tell me.”

“Tell you what?” You demand. Your chest is heaving and your hands are trembling as you pace the room. It feels like you can’t breathe properly. 

You stop in a corner and lean against the wall, taking in as much as you can in every single breath. You wish you had more to drink or just any way to get out of this. He approaches you and holds you by the shoulders. 

“Tell me,” He says firmly. Your eyes can’t leave him and he isn’t backing away. This cannot be real. 

“Tell me that you want me because I swear,” He’s trapping you into the corner, and every breath you take draws him closer. 

“I’m going to lose it if you don’t.” 

You have to stop yourself. 

You can’t do what you want to do. You can’t kiss him, you can’t let him push you against this wall with his lips, oh his soft lips. You can’t let his hands do the things you want him to do. You must control yourself. You must stand tall. You must not give in. 

It’s another one of his tricks. 

He’s going to back off and laugh at you later. He’s going to trot away with the girl he’s been wanting for months now, the girl he used to drone on about for hours, the girl…he seems to have rarely brought up lately. 

Strange.

“You’re lying.” You whisper. Your heart is thumping out of your chest and it’s almost as if you can feel it touching his. 

“You don’t want me. You want her. You’ve always wanted her.” He doesn’t move. 

“You can’t want me.” You feel your cheeks getting hot. Was it the drinks you had with him just a while ago? 

“She’s prettier, she’s Heather! She’s the one you’ve-”

“Shut up.” He breathes and your lungs almost go still. 

“Just shut up and answer me. I didn’t ask about her. Don’t mess with me. How do you feel?”

There are about a hundred ways that you can answer this. You’ve collected them over the past year. There are the answers of truth, the lies, the ones you wish were true, and finally just nothing. 

You wish you were over him. You wish that his gaze didn’t pierce into yours like a hook, pulling you closer. You wish this was easier. You wish you had forgotten him. 

Because then you won’t want to kiss him. You won’t want to wrap your arms around him and let him lift you. You won’t want him whispering your name into your ear. You won’t want him to be the one to bring you hangover soup every time you get drunk over him. You won’t want him to be the one who answers your call when you’re sad, alone, or scared. You won’t want him to be the one who finally loves you back. 

But deep down, you know there’s no potion that can undo this knot of anguish, joy, laughter, and tears inside of you. There’s no spell that can ever make you forget the way he is looking at you right now.

With desperation, hunger, and need. 

After almost three months of going back and forth, unsure of how to escape the prison of one-sided love. How do you answer to him? 

“I…” You look up at him. What if it’s the wrong answer? 

“I don’t.” You breathe out. He looks stunned as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. 

“She’s the one you like.” You whisper as he backs away.

“But-”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You say, clenching your hands into fists. You have always been the better liar.

You get your things and head for the door. You have to leave now, or he will see the hesitation in your glassy eyes.

“I’m assuming our deal is off. Good luck.” You leave the room and the man inside, hoping to never see him again. 

A few weeks pass and you find yourself in the back row of that lecture again, scrolling through your phone as you can’t be bothered to listen to the professor. He didn’t text you nor did he call. It stings, but you know you can’t hold yourself together like that again if he-

You see a figure, two seats away from you. And you turn to see him. 

Of course, it’s him. 

It’s the second time this month now that you want to sink into this very chair. He doesn’t say anything. You’re thankful. 

Ten minutes later, he passes you a note. 

You hesitate before you take it in your hands and open it. 

Three words, and you hate that it makes you smile.

“I knew it.”

optional ending!

“Hey, I found this great movie for us to…” You enter the kitchen to see that he has set up candles and bowls of noodles. You sigh as your lips curl into a smile. This feels like a dream. 

“Happy anniversary darling.” He offers you a glass of wine and you take it before he takes your hand and gently twirls you around. 

“It’s been a little over a year since you lied to me about your feelings. And if I weren’t the smart boy that I am,” You laugh. 

“Then I wouldn’t be the happiest man alive.” He kisses you with lips that still feel like clouds.

“I still don’t know how I got you.” He mumbles before he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“And I still don’t know how it took you so long.” You roll your eyes. He immediately pulls back.

“It’s only because you lied!”

“Oh, so you always liked me and never thought of the other girl?”

“Never! I only had eyes for you.”

“Who’s lying now?” You tease. He takes your glass of wine and places it on the counter before he lifts you into his arms and smothers your face in kisses. He whirls you around the room, making you clutch onto him for dear life.

“You make me so damn happy, you know?” He says once he stops. 

“Same for you.” You grin before pressing your lips onto his.

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING! i know this is so late but i do hope that you like it! i don't usually write fluff because i don't want it to sound cringe or anything like that so i tried to kind of keep it light fluff! i don't know if this was angsty at all but i do hope that you guys enjoy! as for the 'i knew it' part, if you didn't get it, it's basically supposed to be like "i knew you liked me. you can't lie to me." anyways! finals season is coming up (can you hear my tears falling onto the floor) and i've been swamped with work. but thank you so much for all your support always. i love getting the messages you guys send and all the comments! thank you, thank you, thank you. you give me reason to write and keep this account alive. i hope you have a good day/night!

[beastinthebelfry]

Well, I failed miserably at my Halloween Challenge so have the last part of The Ravaging on account. Still working on the Halloween story, it's just going to be awhile before I post anything for it.

Ao3

A cold breeze bellows through the trees, heralding the end of another encounter. You look up, watching as the man and the female constructs grow farther away, the vines cradling you as you're lowered to the ground. You're amazed to realize just how far into the air you’ve been this whole time, the darkness and bio-luminescence playing tricks on your depth perception. 

The Vines set you on your feet, holding you up until they're sure you can stand on your own and only then do they retract. You stand in the darkness, willing your vision to adjust to the darkness, but no matter how long you stand there, the inky blackness is too thick to penetrate. You supposed you can stand still and let whatever monster that passes by catch you. That’s certainly not the worst scenario, but it's also not the most appealing. You’d like to explore. 

You’ve always wanted to go camping, or hiking off trail in the woods, but the very real possibility of being lost and cut off from civilization weighs heavily on you every time you consider it and so you’ve always talked yourself out of it. But here you can’t get lost. You're being monitored and there are any number of other people and creatures here as well, so you aren’t alone. This may be the only chance  for you to do something like this with this level of certainty. 

Perhaps the forest is wondering why you haven’t moved, or maybe the man in the bark is still watching you, either way, the darkness is suddenly chased away by the same bio-luminescent mushrooms. Blooming all around you, sprouting up the trees and along the ground they form a cocoon around you. You take a step forward to study them closer and more mushrooms sprout in the same direction. 

Testing a theory, you turn and take a step in another direction, watching as the spores bloom the same as before. You smile to yourself. “Thank you.” you say out loud and the leaves about you rustle in a light breeze. 

You stand at the center for a moment longer, determining which direction you want to take before choosing the right and following the glowing mushrooms until you come to a well worn trail where lanterns hang from wooden posts along either side. You step into the light of the lanterns and turn to watch the mushrooms recede the way you’d come. 

“Well well well, it must be my lucky night.” a deep voice like gravel sounds somewhere out into the darkness. The sound slides across your sensitive nerves and you shiver as your arousal spikes again. A chuckle reverberates through the trees and you turn abruptly trying to pick out the source from the darkness. “Here I am, searching for the perfect dessert to end our night and there you are, emerging from the forest like a gift from the gods.” 

You turn once more in time to watch them emerge through the trees. A werewolf of enormous size, even bigger than the one at the beginning of the night. Standing at, at least eight feet tall on his hind legs, his shaggy black hair is run through with silver and his piercing yellow eyes seem to glow in the lamp light. He licks his lips, taking you in from head to toe. It’s easy to assume he likes what he sees as his thick red cock rises to attention. 

“What’d ya say sweetheart? Want to finish the night out with a few old dogs?” he asks, taking a step closer. 

You nod dumbly, eyes transfixed on his leaking member. He chuckles again before he’s moving too fast for you to register, scooping you up and planting your back against a tree. 

“You flatter me,” he says. “Why don’t we have a little warm up before I take you to meet my boys?” 

You whimper, the feeling of his massive paws on your body overwhelming your senses. “Mmm please.” 

He hums, the rumbling sound traveling through your body where you’re pressed together.  “So polite.” he says, bending his thick neck and nuzzling at yours. You feel the sharp points of his teeth pressing against your skin as he lathes his tongue across your pulse. “You smell divine.” he tells him, his paws coming around to cup your rounded bottom. He hikes you up a little higher, the bark biting into your skin, but you barely notice as his heavy length comes to rest against you. 

The wolf shifts to one knee, hoisting you up and throwing your knees over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The display of power is intoxicating all on its own. You grip at the fur around his massive head as it settles between your legs. You hear the rush of air as he takes in a deep breath, letting it out with a deep rumbling chuckle. 

“Quite the adventure you’ve had tonight.” he says before flicking his tongue out against your folds. You gasp, still sensitive after everything that happened in the trees. 

The wolf chuckles, vibrations rumbling through you. And then he’s devouring you, rough tongue lashing across your clit, still so sensitive from every adventure so far. A growl rumbles deep in his chest and the feel of it vibrates across your nerves tipping you over the edge as he dips his long tongue in to lick up the slick that gushes from you. 

The wolf hums. “The old man rarely takes more than one offering, you must have put on quite a show to draw their attention. Lucky us, they decided to let you go before the end of the night.” he unhooks your legs from his shoulders and stands, cradling your body to his solid, furry form. “No one seeds a mortal better than the Green Man himself.” he licks his muzzle obscenely and you shiver at the sight. 

The wolf maneuvers you around in his arms, then steps back into the treeline where he emerged before. As you move away from the lanterns, the darkness swallows you up, but the wolf clearly has no trouble seeing, his footsteps nearly silent through the underbrush. 

Experience so far has taught you that there is nothing to fear here, that you're safe, so you hunker down in his arms, his warmth fighting off the chill of the night. You're soon rewarded for your patience as you catch a faint glow in the distance. As you move closer, the glow grows brighter and you can hear the crackle of fire and the low murmur of deep voices. 

The wolf steps through the brush into a clearing, drawing the attention of four other wolves sitting around the fire. They’re all about the same size, in varying shades of gray and brown, white around their muzzles and streaked through their fur. 

You just barely manage to hold on to what remains of your dignity as they each stand, towering over you, even in the first wolf’s arms. 

“I hope you're all still hungry.” he says to what you can only assume is his pack. “This one was blessed by the old man himself.” 

“They took more than one?” a russet brown wolf asks, the shock clear in his voice. “She must be something special.” 

“She tastes divine.”  

There’s a cacophony of growls around you then, each wolf responding with a low rumble that sets off your nerves like someone holding a vibrator to your clit. You feel your body come alive, tingling pricks against your skin peaking your nipples. You clench involuntarily, breath stuttering. 

“That’s his doing.” the wolf holding you explains. “The sensitivity will eventually wear off, but until then, you’ll feel everything more acutely now.” 

As if to emphasize the point, you feel him press his thumb against your folds, sinking the meaty digit in. You gasp, clenching around him, body shuddering at the intrusion. 

“Please.” you moan, willing them to understand what you need as words fail you. 

They laugh. “Of course sweetheart.” a stocky gray wolf replies, stepping forward, his one eye is a crystal clear blue, a scar running from his brow over his left eye, the lid closed. 

“Get her ready quickly.” the first wolf says, letting the gray wolf pull you from his grip. His thumb pops free and you groan in disappointment. “The night is almost over and it’s going to take all of us to satisfy her.” 

You don’t resist, letting them manipulate your body, feeling boneless and heavy with arousal. The gray wolf carries you to the other side of the fire, where a wooden contraption sits, metal chains fastened to the bottom. He lays you on your stomach on the padded surface, knees braced on an outcropping on either side. You feel the cold weight of the cuffs against the skin of your wrists and ankles. 

“She’s ready, boss.” one of them says and you peer over your shoulder watching as the wolf who brought you here steps up behind you. He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth and for a moment the haze of lust dissipates enough for you to consider how handsome he is. And then just like that the thought and all thoughts are gone, arousal rushing through you at the feeling of something thick pushing at your entrance. 

You’ve had a very interesting night. Thick cocks galore, but there’s something about this, right now that feels different. The stretch is more intense, lightning shooting across your nerves. You grab on to the edge of the wooden structure, nails digging in. The wolves howl and laugh around you watching you tremble with each thrust through you.

Words are lost to you, the only sounds you can manage are animalistic, grunts and groans and whines. You’d be embarrassed if you could even think that clearly. 

Your first climax among these beastly men hits you so fast and unexpectedly that you scream, shrieking into the night like a banshee. Laughter erupts again but you can barely hear it through the rushing in your ears, your body never leaving that pleasured plateau as the “Boss” continues to fuck you through another and another. 

When he nears his own end, he bends over you, pressing your body into the wooden beam, hips pistoning into you with short, powerful strokes. Your screams are swallowed up by his howls as he unloads inside you. You can feel his cum gushing out around his thick member. 

Eventually he pulls free, stepping away to let the next wolf have his turn. It’s much the same as before. At no point have you become desensitized to these intense sensations. Each wolf fucks you in their own way, slow and deliberate, fast and rough. It’s all different and yet all the same, a steady unyielding wall of pleasure building inside you until you feel like you can’t breathe. 

You’ve long since stopped screaming, whimpering now as exhaustion sets in. But even then you don’t want it to stop. You feel like it’s not enough, like it’s never enough. They rotate again and again, taking turn after turn. At some point you lose track of who's using you. 

As the blue hour rises around you, the “Boss” takes his turn again, his thrusts, slow but powerful, as if he can feel the magic that kept you suspended in bliss beginning to fade with the coming dawn. 

You feel his rumbling chuckle against your back as he leans against you, nuzzling at your neck. “Give me one more, sweetheart.” he growls against your ear. You whimper, clenching down around him. “That’s it, a little more.” Your final climax rolls through like a warm summer breeze, you stretch and curl into it savoring it like a cat in a beam of sunlight. 

There’s movement around you, the chains fall away. You're lifted from the bench, warm soft fur a soothing balm to you over sensitive skin. You carried somewhere not too far away where you're wrapped in warm, soft fleece. And then there are people there. People in matching charcoal jumpsuits, surgical masks over their nose and mouths. There’s a logo of some kind embroidered on the left breast, a swooping elegant M. 

One of them asks you if you can stand, if you need assistance walking. You push to your feet, steady yourself and when they're satisfied you won’t fall over, they lead you along the lantern lined trail from before where groups of people are walking along with other jumpsuit clad people. 

You breach the edge of the forest into the clearing where private ambulances with the same logo painted across the side sit waiting. Medical personnel filter out to meet the crowd, passing out water and evaluating anyone who seems a little too out of it. You spot the pink haired man from before limping toward an ambulance as a stretcher passes with the sulking man with the tree people, a blissed out smile beneath the oxygen mask. 

“Congratulation,” the automated voice from before sounds through the early dawn hours. “You have survived The Ravaging.”  

[indestructibleheart]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you to @stereopticons, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @vanillahigh00 for the tags!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

32

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

181,061

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'll kidnap all the stars and I will keep them in your eyes [buddie + christopher, G, 1k] the story of who I am [david/patrick, T, 3.5k] now your heart is in my hands, I won't give it up [david/patrick, T, 2.3k] feet, don't fail me now [david/patrick, T, 3.9k] Collect Me With Your Steady Hand [david/patrick, T, 5.6k)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I see comments as a way to engage with the fandom, and it means a LOT to me when people take the time to comment on my fic. So I like to at least say thank you!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I have never written something that didn't end happily, LOL.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hmm. I don't know if it's the "happiest," but I think the joy at the end of and we'd swear to remember it (all too well) probably has the best payoff because of how things start.

7. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't. I do write AUs based on things, though.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Eh. I've gotten a lot of backhanded compliments, but not direct hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have only written one PWP (’till the gravity’s too much) and it was very recently, but I've included smut in longer fics several times. Apparently, I only know how to write smut with feelings.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I think that would be really fantastic!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! parallax with @stereopticons, lights like you (glow all year long) with @lilythesilly, and with mischief in sight, we're all merry and bright, which was a large group effort!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I'm assuming this means that I've written, and I absolutely shan't choose between David/Patrick and FirstPrince. You can't make me.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a small amount of a summer camp AU written for Schitt's Creek (featuring David/Patrick, Twylexis, and Stevie/Ruth), and I totally lost momentum on it because I don't have any idea where it's going. I'd love to finish it because I really like what I have, but... alas. That is not going to happen.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I like my prose, and I have a lot of great ideas.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have too many ideas and have been struggling a lot lately with the follow-through... Though, to be fair, it's been a rough year, lol.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

English is the only language I speak fluently. So, I'll only include full lines of dialogue in another language if it's a common phrase I'm super familiar with (particularly in Italian or Spanish) AND/OR if I have a friend who can translate. Google is great for single words, usually, but it's terrible when it comes to actually translating phrases in a way people actually fucking talk, lol. If I want to communicate that someone is speaking another language, I'll generally do something like: "Insert phrase of dialogue here," they said, in [insert language here]."

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Oh, god. Uh... I'm pretty sure it was Twilight. We're not gonna talk about it.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I definitely want to write some June/Nora and June/Nora/Pez, and just more of the Super Six in general. The lil New Year's thing I'm working on was supposed to just have June/Nora, but it's kinda starting to look like June/Nora/Bea, so. Oops!

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I think and we'd swear to remember it (all too well) has my best writing for sure.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut (in alphabetical order lol). If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@blackandwhiteandrose, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @lilythesilly, @missgeevious, @myheartalivewrites, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail

[wildelydawn]

I'm completely in love with how soft your story YLTTL is and it's completely changed my expectations in relationships and I wanted to thank you for somehow showing me that life can be better than this. Out of curiosity, may I ask who Amelia is?

!! I’m sorry, my brain is completely jammed reading this. I can’t believe my story helped with that. I am so happy to read this, thank you for this.

Amelia is my former partner and someone who I love very much. We haven’t spoken in quite some time, but then something traumatic happened in the area where I work. She called me for the first time in a while, completely hysterical over my safety. To calm her down, I told her about a new show I just finished watching (KinnPorsche). We spent several hours talking, and YLTTL was born from there. (I told her I liked the couple that didn’t end up together, and she snorted, said that was typical, and then asked when I was going to fix them. Oops.)

Sometimes, it’s assumed that people who romantically love each other need to be together or with each other. But that’s not always the case. You can love someone very intensely and know that you and them are better off. And this fic explores some of the circumstances that prevent two people from “being together.” That doesn’t mean there’s any love lost, though.

I hope this answers your question, and thank you for reading YLTTL. (Feel free to send me more!)

[birdiebortnik]

oh it is 4 AM and this is probably riddled with typos but here we go <3

Fanfic Writer Review

Omg! Thank you @harumin24 for tagging me! <3<3<3<3 (spamming you with hearts) 

“How many works do you have on Ao3?”

I have seven! With hopes of more. Six of them are multi-chapter stories, one is from a gift exchange I did a million years ago for a fandom I'm no longer in lmao, and two of them are WIPs. 

“Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?”

White Catchfly- 812

Here I Am- 343

Meadow Sweet Fennel- 262

Acropolis- 144 

I don’t endorse the gift exchange fic, that was a different me from a different time but i refuse to delete it cause like one or two people have it bookmarked. 

“Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?”

Yes yes yes! Comments make my heart leap out of my chest and smile like a darn fool for hours! I have a little routine where I only respond to comments once I’ve posted the next chapter of my story cause I am such a slow writer I’m pretty convinced that every reader has totally forgotten the fic exists. Unfortunately because of the debilitating adhd sometimes responding to comments and DM’s about finished stories is still on the docket (IM GETTING TO IT I PROMISE!)  

“What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?”

Oh ho ho ho ho. I write angsty angsty shit. But that being said, I don’t want my readers to leave feeling hopeless and crushed. I want to balance out the whump and hurt with some reality of hope. I put a bob the drag queen quote at the end of all my fics, “everything works out in the end, so if things aren’t working out it is not the end.” I put this on there mainly for my readers in case they need to hear it, but I also want to reflect it within my stories. I’m not going for tragic for tragedies' sake but I’m also not going for cartoonishly happy endings, I’m trying to hit a middle ground. All of that being said I think right now the angstiest ending I’ve written is for White Catchfly— the children have returned from Narnia and are re-learning their lives in England. Much has been lost with this ending and there’s trepidation in the future. 

However, Green Carnations is a strong contender because it ends when Ben is really just starting his life and there’s this kind of impending cloud that is the events of canon in the distance.  

(Rest assured I have much angstier endings planned mwahahahahah). 

“What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?”

Hmm! I think it’s a toss up between Here I Am and Acropolis. Here I Am ends with hope after INTENSE angst and honestly I kind of regret that, I was a little burnt out on that fic when it was time to write the ending and I don’t think I gave it all the care it deserved. To remedy that I’d love to write some one-shots to expand, but I just need some ideas (if any here i am fans are out there and you have prompts my asks and dms are open!). On the other hand, Acropolis isn’t as angsty overall and the last chapter is pretty cute (if I do say so myself) with family bonding, sibling fun, music, etc. 

“Do you write crossovers?”

I do not as of now. I’m less fandom focused and less ship focused and much much more character focused so I tend to hone in one detail/person which doesn’t really lend itself to balancing crossovers. 

“Have you ever received hate on a fic?”

No! Thank goodness and knock on wood. My fics are pretty specific so I assume anyone clicking on them knows what they’re in for. I’ve gotten some odd comments (I think only on Here I Am), but nothing I would call hate. 

“Do you write smut? If so, what kind?”

I haven’t. Not yet at least. I don’t think I’m really attracted to writing smut for smut’s sake. Though its something im a little torn about— a lot of my stories have themes of coming into one’s sexuality and there have been several instances already and I have more instances and scenes planed where moments of sexuaity/description of sexuality would make sense narratively and I do fully believe in sex being a useful literary device but I’m unsure how to navigate being more detailed than vague reference, shadowy description, and fade to black. We shall see what the future holds I suppose!  

“Have you ever had a fic stolen?”

Not to my knowledge. 

“Have you ever had a fic translated?”

Nope! 

“Have you ever co-written a fic before?”

I haven’t! My writing tends to happen in a late night adhd coffee fueled frenzy and also tends to center around real specific headcanons and smaller fandoms so I’m not sure my writing lifestyle is very conducive to co-writing. 

“What’s your all-time favourite ship?”

Alas, I am not really a ship person. I get it, I do. But like i said earlier, I’m much more individual character focused. However when I think of character pairs that should smooch cause they seem very in love the first pairs that come to mind are Harry and Dale from twin peaks (i never finished the show but I don’t platonically grab my friends noses, what’s that about dale, huh?) and the roman solider and cowboy from night of the museum who invented romance. Am I only thinking of those two pairs cause its four am? WAIT! I do love Legolas/Gimli I do love that. 

“What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?”

Crying. Sobbing. Kicking. Screaming. I have started so many WIPs. I’ve only posted the ones I’m 100% going to finish, but in the drafts are a three musketeers fic, a merlin fic, a boy meets world fic (i’m almost done with it, I have hope!), a boys in the boat fic (i loved the movie interpretations of the lads as characters, but the more i sit on the this fic, the more i remember they were based off real people and i get a lil uncomfy), two white collar fics, a flash fic, a she loves me fic (yes, the broadway musical), dead boy detective fics (ill probably never finish those alas), lotr, abbot elementary, thelma (2024), i started a parks and rec one once upon a time, a modern family fic, stranger things (the hyperfixation lasted maybe a week if that), two marvel fics, a prodigal son fic, dr who, that show with the dog hudson and rex, and i just started a open a doc for my current fast and furious tangent 

I know this sounds like so much and it is, but only a few of these are more than a page. Some of them are just a title and blank doc or one paragraph. When I say i have adhd i mean it. I open a doc for almost every show I watch. 

“What are your writing strengths?”

Oy gavalt. Something I try and take care to do is root a lot of things in the body of the characters which I think helps with fleshing out the descriptions of emotions. I also think I’m alright at coming up with the one way gate— that being the plot moment that the characters can not come back from (romeo killing tybalt for example) but i'm still working on making it all more succinct and fleshed out. 

“What are your writing weaknesses?”

In a big picture sense— plot. Sometimes I feel like my characters show up on the page, have emotions, and then it's the end. Goodnight goodbye. Recently i feel like i’ve forgotten some of my tactics in plotting things out so I’m trying to go back to that. In conjunction with this, I’m really not good at the ticking clock (in reference to Charles’ Baxter’s lecture on aspects of an effective plot). I feel like my characters are seldom in a plot enhancing time crunch. I’m working on it. 

In a none big picture way— yall i’ve got to come up with another way to communicate what’s going on with a character besides describing their breath. Maybe its cause i have asthma so im just like really aware of what my lungs are doing but my characters breathing is so constantly central to how im communicating with them and i feel like it gets repetitive. 

“What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?”

I’ve done it! It’s really hard! I provide translations whenever I do it to keep readers in the loop. When I was writing russian dialogue for here i am I was instantly hit with how my russian is much more of a russian/ukrainian/yiddish familect and while my speaking/understanding is a little better I had 0 formal reading/writing education. A kind soul fluent in like proper academic russian volunteered to help me out, but man, it was tough. 

I have other fics in the works (-ish, you saw my wip list, im freaking toast, dude) where I have characters who I want to represent speaking in another language that I have no experience with which is really intimidating especially since fluency is so dependant on location and culture and time and colloquialisms that can be impossible to translate when you’re not fluent yourself. 

All that to say, I want to speak and write about every language but rn I’m focused on getting out of bed so we’ll see what happens lmao. 

“What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?”

I’m vibrating in place. Again y’all saw my wip list. It’s out of control. It’s hard to say cause my brain jumps from idea and focus to idea and focus so rapidly that I don’t really know what’s on the horizon. I will say, one that I’ve not really worked on in a serious way, as my ideas are very scattered, but I keep coming back to is White Collar. A Neal fic may very well be on its way (wow, a fic where a traumatized man realizes he’s gay, so original avi, you’ve never written something like that before! Listen, ill write it a million times over leave me alone). 

However, a way out of left field fleeting fixation that is calling to me from the google docs is fast and furious. I’ve watched one film. That’s it, one film, the first one. I have no plans to watch any more. HOWEVER, there is a character in the first film that is barely expanded upon, dies, and does not come back in any of the other films. And let me tell you, my brain is seeing an opportunity here, like Ben from Lupin, this kid is a blank canvas with like zero canon details that I want to craft an entire life story for, a story that certainly no one will read but i do want to write. 

“What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?”

You’re going to make me choose from all my babies? My beautiful children? 

Listen— White Catchfly has a special place in my heart as the seed of Larch and the first project I started and finished.

Here I Am does not make the cut because though i love it, like i said, i got a little burnt out and im not proud of every chapter 

Acropolis gets an honorable mention cause it gets no love (thats so okay i knew exactly what i was getting into writing a side character focused no powers au for a fandom where the powers are like 99% of it) and i think its cute and its the first medical trauma fic ive written which makes it unique 

Green Carnations, my child, my beloved. I love it so much, it was such a labor of love. This was one of the fics that is like 99% me cause it’s about a character with no canon details and i made up all of it so the few and mighty comments on it are so special cause my dear readers are getting no canon and all me and it just floors me that they clicked on the fic and stuck around.  

However, the winner at the moment is Meadow Sweet Fennel. Technically its not over yet, we’ve still got one more chapter. I really love this fic. The larch series is one of my favorites to work on and this was the first larch story where i got to explore the historical component which is one of the main aspects of the series. This fic really felt like a step up from White Catchfly, i think my writing really matured with this fic and it feels like a sturdy push into the rest of the larch series and one of the largest most impactful steps in getting to the stories yet to come. <3 

I don’t really have other fic writing pals but if any writers following me feel compelled i tag you!

[huntedeers]

I don’t really care if venting on social media is cringey I’ll do whatever I want these past 3 months have been so difficult I just became sober in the starting of December getting off weed because it was giving me really bad paranoia before that I had gotten sober from codeine and more stronger drugs like cocaine in November I’ve never dealt with my mental problems before I was introduced to drugs in 6th grade I’ve been off and on it I’ve never really thought about anything serious I don’t remember anything actually from when I was an addict but being really hyper and happy having a child like mind now I feel so disgust in my body I don’t feel like myself I don’t even feel like I know me for 3 months I haven’t clean my room I’ve tried to but i just end up leaving it a mess never finish it I got on birth control gained sm weight I’ve started emotionally eating I’ve been thinking about going back to my ed but I know if I do my teeth will fall out I will probably only get worse health problems I don’t have any friends I removed a lot of them while I was maniac a lot of them I didn’t even like the type of people they were they were bitter I just wanted friends I always tried to understand them,respect them they acted like my friends but everytime I would share my problems for once they would ignore I had a friend who just started talking about her bf that she cheats on all the time while I was talking about how my dads mental health is so bad his life is at threat who constantly got mad at me for being insecure for my trauma I stopped opening up after I just started being quiet I don’t wanna tell my friends my mental health problems anymore because I know they won’t listen I rather just block them because I don’t feel like they like me or even there for me I feel like I’m just the ugly annoying friend I just want to have a friend who loves me I wish I had someone to talk to I’ve been waiting months to get a therapist I dropped out of high school because stress was so bad I got so paranoid I started thinking everyone was recording me and making fun of me I even thought one of my ex friends were stealing my packages I started to think my own bf was stalking me even other people if someone even looked at me I assumed they were stalking me planning on bringing harm to me I’ve lost so much trust for people I feel so lonely I feel like no one wants to comfort me I try to be positive but I wonder if my depression will ever go away I’ve been going through it since was a child a lot of trauma has been brought up I feel like a child I just wanna start crying and hitting myself push everyone away but I’ll only be sad idk what to do I went to the psych ward to get mental help I was there for one day only they told me they were getting me meds and a psychiatrist but i just wanna feel normal again I haven’t even looked at my face or body in months I’m so disgusted by myself

[lamamasjamas]

Lost Connection

Summary: Mando decides to take a small break, turns out his idea of a break takes place in Sorgan. You're not jealous. He's not jealous. It's all just a mix up.

a/n: I am y/n, we are y/n. Based on real life events but with a happy ending.

Warnings: Smut, negative thoughts, pining from both ends, angst,

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist

You chew slowly, concerned he would make a drastic move that would startle you. The diner was quiet. The only sounds heard were that of forks scraping against plates and of the frying of pans. One or two people were around, each of them keeping to themselves, and keeping their heads down.

Shifting in your seat you didn't really know what to do, he intimidated you, but it also meant he intimidated others, which was nice when you would walk close to his side. He was safe. In a surprising way.

Dex’s Diner was open 24/7 and it was your idea to go. He didn’t know Coruscant, and you jokingly said you would give him a tour one day. He didn’t laugh or chuckle or even move.

Now that you think about it, he was being rather snippy with you lately. He was acting the same way he did when you first met. Cold, silent, and blunt. You couldn't figure out what you did, especially since he’s been acting normal with everyone else but you.

“Finish eating. We need to go.” You pause. Slightly hurt by the way he was talking to you, as if you two haven’t gotten close, and you haven’t been confiding in him and trusting him. As if there wasn’t something happening between each other. Maybe you were delusional on that part.

“Where to?” you say with a smile, trying to stay positive. He abruptly stands, leaving behind some credits for the food as he exits through the door. You stay dumbfounded as you hear the jingle of the doorway.

You stay there for a while burning holes into the empty seat he left behind, not really knowing what to do anymore. Looking up you see the other patrons staring at you and your booth, a mix of concern and curiosity in their gaze. They look away as they make eye contact, and you suddenly feel incredibly embarrassed. You lost your appetite.

As you head towards the designated hangar where Din left the ship, tears gather in your eyes. You were just overthinking it, you're sure he didn’t mean to be rude. He’s probably just in a mood.

You ascend to the cockpit and sit on one of the co-pilot seats. He barely turns to look at you, nor does he greet you. Your thoughts are of you going through every possible misstep you made that could possibly offend him. You fell asleep still searching.

It goes on the same for a few days. You kept to yourself on your holo and he stayed mostly in the cockpit. He just tells you how long it would take to get to your destination and leaves to sleep.

After a few days you woke up alone, but you were on a different planet. You quickly check the nav comp and see that you were on a planet called Sorgan. You’ve never heard of this place before.

As you head outside, after seeing that Mando left without a trace, you come into view of a bright village. There were people gathered around something or rather someone. You move past the krill farm and past the little huts and make it towards the crowd.

There he was in all his glory, surrounded by the villagers and the children. All of them giving him their thanks for something you didn’t quite understand, something about a raid and about the child. Grogu, you assume

He notices you there and his visor turns to your look of confusion and discomfort. He dismisses himself from the crowd and goes towards you.

“Hey…”, you say, whilst looking around nervously, not really knowing what to do, especially since it seemed that he’s been here before.

Right as he opened his mouth to say something a hand stopped him abruptly. Your gaze moved to the woman who situated herself beside him, resting her hand on his bicep. “Mandalorian” She says teasingly, “Good to have you back” She squeezed. You couldn’t help but zero in on her hand. They were just friends. You assume.

He turned fully towards her and her eyes widened in concern. “Where’s the child?”

“He’s with his kind…” She hugs him and he slowly does the same. For a moment you feel a pit in your stomach, he didn’t let you comfort him when Grogu left.

She rubs his back and whispers, “I’m sorry…” He just nods. You look away, feeling as if you were invading their moment.

They part ways and she’s just noticed you behind him. “Oh, hello” Clasping your hand in hers she gives you tentative pats on your connected grip. She doesn’t directly speak to you, but she is analyzing you. “You should have told me you were going to bring a… uh…”

“A friend” He says it with meaning, a little too harshly for your liking. You feel another pang hit you, and your face heats up from your internal embarrassment. Would he have said that a couple weeks ago? You’d like to think he wouldn't. Maybe you really were delusional.

Your face falls slightly and she notices. Giving your hand a little squeeze she leads you to an open hut nearby, completely ignoring the mandalorian next to her. “My name is Omera, it's a pleasure to meet you” You introduce yourself in return. Her gaze lingered and she smiled sweetly. She seemed very genuine, very nice.

“You both made it at a good time. The food’s almost done. Head out when you’re ready” She leaves you alone inside the little room. Turning slowly you can see that bedding was already set up, as well as some small crates. You assumed they were his. You’ll ask Omera for another room later.

A knock on the side of the doorway stirred you from your thoughts. “Mando, I think she gave me your room-” A man standing in the doorway makes you jump back.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to startle you” he apologies as he extends his hand out for you to shake. “It’s fine” You force a chuckle, feeling extremely embarrassed. His hands were rough and he had a firm grip. “I just wanted to check in, see if you needed anything else”

“Everything is fine, really, it’s just that this is Mando’s room…” He looks confused, downright perplexed. He points at you and the things around the room, “So… you two aren’t together?”

“Uh, no” You wish. “Okay, good to know, good to know” You stare at him amused, especially since a derpy smile suddenly appeared on his face. “My name's Jek by the way” “Y/n” After a few seconds he claps his hands together, “Rooms! This way”

You notice his features as you step outside, he was relatively handsome, about Mando’s height, young, maybe around your age, definitely well built. He must be hard working, judging by his hands and strength.

As he leads you to your new lodging unit, you faintly see Mando, in a crowd surrounded, nearby a campfire. It was starting to get dark and the smell of stew reached you from the door to your new hut.

“Thank you-” “I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to dinner- I mean we all have dinner together but-” He stutters and you wait patiently for him to catch his breath. “Would you like to sit with me?” He’s suddenly sheepish, and out of pity or friendliness you accept his invitation.

“Great! I’ll see you there” He jogs off towards the crowd, and you chuckle as you see him pump his fist in the air. You stay a few minutes inside, preparing everything for a night’s rest. Omera comes in with a polite smile. “Dinner’s ready”

As you make it towards the fire pit you see everyone gathering in a line towards the pots. You stand together in line with bowls and utensils in hand. You didn’t really want to talk, still feeling a little hurt by the display of affection she had earlier with Mando. So, she talked to you instead.

“How did you meet?” She linked her arm around yours and leaned in close to you.

“We’re in the same business…” She looks to you as if she was expecting you to say more. You say nothing, and stare blankly up at her. “Vague, just like him” She grins and once you make it to the serving pots she takes yours and serves you herself. She serves herself two bowls as well.

As you walk towards the dining area in the main building she shouts out “Winta, gather everyone up, it's time for dinner!” You are momentarily startled from the sheer amount of kids running towards you both. All of them drag some part of Mando with them, be it either by his cape or by his arms. He even bent a little for them to have better access.

You could hear his audible chuckle as he approached. He sounds happy here. You haven't heard or seen him like that in awhile. As everyone has gotten their bowls, Mando is dragged by Winta towards her mother. You're left at the entrance, shifting your feet awkwardly as he sits next to her comfortably. Looking over towards them you note there’s no more space on the bench for you at the table.

Omera looks towards you apologetically, while he shuffles in order to make more space for you, which doesn’t work. “It’s fine. I’ll just sit somewhere else” The next spot available was halfway across the room.

With false confidence and your head held up high, you speed walk towards an empty bench and table. Din was about to stand and join you before someone else did it first. He pauses. Jek sits next to you. Based on his mannerisms and the way he’s talking to you he can tell he does not indeed have friendly motivations.

He sits back down, you obviously have company now. He definitely didn’t feel irritated and possessive. No, definitely not.

The rest of the night was spent with Jek. You didn’t really have a problem with his company, it was just that the two of you had nothing to relate to. You’d have to force a laugh or a snort every once in a while as if you were actually participating in conversation. The topic was on krill, of all things, when Omera finally came to save you.

As she pulled you by the hands to stand and gather around the fire you gave her a sheepish smile to show her your gratitude. She just scrunches her face in mock disgust and nods towards Jek, occupied with the sudden appearance of other fellow villagers. You both laugh and sit down on a makeshift bench facing the pit.

She was suddenly called to help pass around homemade spotchka. You offered to help but she just pushed you to sit back down and ‘relax’.

You finally have time to look around. The village was mostly composed of small huts, or homes, each with tarps serving as doors. The main building, which was set up as the dining hall in the evening, was set to the side, right in front of the krill farm. You assume most of what they farm is used for brewing spotchka, which is then exported to the common house a couple miles off. You could imagine living here, even if the village was much less advanced in tech than in other planets. You thought it was therapeutic in a way, only having to worry about fishing for krill.

You don't have to wonder why Mando chose to stop at this place, it was peaceful, and secure most of all, considering the whole village was only a speck in the planet, and was heavily surrounded in flora.

As you see him sit down on the other side of the fire, facing you. You can’t help but think that he fits in as he reclines back. Maybe he wants to retire, and that’s why he brought both of you here. Maybe he wants you to realize he doesn’t want you around anymore. This is his final stop.

It makes sense, he hasn’t exactly been himself lately, not around you, especially not around you. Omera sits beside you, watching you sulk in your thoughts. Music starts and you're pulled up to your feet.

“Oh no no no, I don’t dance!” She couldn’t help but laugh at your panic. “Relax, I'll guide you” With a wink she guides your hands on her shoulders and she places hers at your waist. As the music picks up and the rhythm becomes more complex you fumble over your feet, but she steadies your hips and moves you to sway.

You start to get the hang of it and she starts twirling you in place. For the first time in a while you feel joy and carefree. As you interlock elbows and follow the steps of those around you, laughing together, she abruptly stops. The other’s continue dancing in synchrony while you and Omera are standing still. You turn to the direction she’s staring at.

“We need to talk” He wasn’t talking to you, instead he looked past you to Omera, who was staring at him with a raised brow. He doesn’t even turn to you as she dismisses herself and leaves with his hand on her forearm, leading her to his temporary hut.

You leave shortly after, even if Omera told you she would be back. As you prepare for bed you chance a glance outside and see them dancing. Now that the night has progressed and the villagers grew tired the songs lost their tempo.

You watched as they swayed together and it was as if the many pieces that he had scattered throughout the past few weeks had come together in a realization. They looked good together you thought, he looked like he would strive here.

You go to sleep wondering why you weren’t enough for him anymore.

Days pass by and you get more and more attention by the villagers. Of course, you’ve barely held a conversation with Mando in a while due to that fact, and also because he seems to spend most of his time with Omera. That is, when she isn't currently spending time with you.

She’s taken a liking to you, you were too oblivious to notice, too deep into your belief that she and Mando had something going on between them on the side. It was impossible not to reach that conclusion since every time you try to approach, when they are together, it was as if they had suddenly lost their voice. Muffled whispers you couldn’t understand and countless stares between each other that no one failed to notice.

It was obvious that they were something more.

He didn’t like asking for advice, personal advice. Ask him to kill a sand lizard, sure. Ask him to hijack a starship, doable. Ask him to fight a trained jedi knight, he’ll manage.

But the one thing he, for the life of him, can’t do, is tell someone he loves them. He just can’t, it’s not him. He’s more of an action type guy. He could kill someone for you, that’s romantic, right? You wouldn’t let him though, you're too nice.. and kind… and good.

You're too good for him, he realized as you tried to comfort him on Boba’s ship. He just lost Grogu and for a moment he failed to see the one person he had left right in front of him. He’s been distancing himself, he didn’t know if it was because he was afraid of finally letting you in completely or because he was afraid you would leave him too, given the chance.

Omera was the closest thing he had to a “girl” friend, he trusted her enough to be vulnerable and ask, no, plead for some advice. She knew about women. He just didn’t take into account that she knew about women.

It was as if she was trying to help him and damn him at the same time. He mostly spent time with her in order to get pointers, tips and tricks in order to woo you, but her focus wandered, making things much more complicated.

So what if he was jealous, and he was mostly spending time with her to ensure she wasn’t spending time with you? He may be oblivious to his own feelings but he wasn’t oblivious to those around him.

That dance the first night you arrived was his first indication of real competition. She was much too pleased with herself whenever she leaned close to you, he often caught her looking back at him from where he was some feet away, sending a wink his way, which you definitely noticed and interpreted in your own way.

She had gotten so close to you that even that village boy started to back off. He was grateful you were oblivious to her advancements, but he would see you together and he would get this mental image of you and her living in the village together. He was never in the image with you.

You deserved better than him, she was stable, calm, safe. He honestly doesn’t know if he’ll live long enough to be able to give you this. He didn’t deserve you either. His job entails making choices that weren’t all that ethical. He was a bad person. Even if you were a bounty hunter like him, you had a code, he, before Grogu, didn’t.

It wasn’t until he was told by Omera that you were planning on leaving that he realized he could care less if he was unworthy of you. As far as you were concerned you belonged with him, side by side. If he was rejected, so be it, but he would rather you leave him heartbroken than not try.

You’ve been thoughtful for the past ten minutes, ever since you told Omera of your plans to leave and get back to your job as a bounty hunter, this time alone She’s been quiet. You didn’t know if you offended her, or if you seemed ungrateful for her hospitality for telling her your plan of leaving. You hoped she didn’t, she was a kind woman, surely she would understand if you explained to her. She wouldn’t ridicule you would she?

“I’m leaving because of-” “Mando, right?” Guess not.

You visibly recoil as she scoffs, “Of course you would” She harshly arranges the bottles of Spotchka scheduled to be exported to another village in the crates. You stand there silently watching as she practically rushes to fill them. Under her breath you could hear her mumble, “...pair of idiots”

As she finishes, she stands at her full height, looking at you, finally noticing your hurt look. With a sigh she starts, “Look, you do what you want to do, no one will stop you” She looks to the ground, refusing to look at your face. It was so quiet you almost didn’t catch it, “Guess you didn’t fit into this life huh?”

It took a moment to fully process what she said. Maybe she was right, but at least he did. With a tight lipped smile she gave you a tight hug. As she departed she grabbed both sides of your face and this time gave you a genuine smile, “I hope you find what you’re really looking for.”

With a kiss to the forehead she finally departs, leaving you confused and slightly hurt by her actions.

You pack your things from Mando’s new ship, reminiscing of the beloved Razor Crest, whom you’ve called home for the past year. Mando getting a new ship was probably a sign from the universe. It was your time to go and for him to start a new chapter. You don’t regret a thing. You go around the ship recovering and picking up some of your things and knick knacks you leave to make the “place have some semblance of life”. You heard the hull open, and his heavy footsteps sound across the cargo hold. You turned to see him heavily breathing, as if he ran to get there.

“I refuse” he stands tall, his shoulders are squared and his fists are clenched. The sudden silence and stillness of the situation lasts for a few moments. You look around the room, wondering what he was talking about. “What-”

“I refuse to let you leave.” He reminded you of a child having a fit. If his voice wasn’t as stern as it was you would have assumed he really was having a temper tantrum. You can imagine him stomping his foot on the ground, his fists shaking as he tries to argue with you.

It angers you, you grow bitter. “Why do you care?” You turn towards your bunk and continue to pack. The audacity of this man to try to stop you, as if he would genuinely be inconvenienced by your departure.

“What makes you think I don’t?” He was close now, his chest almost touching your back and his helmet leaning closer to your face. You turn slightly and scoff. “Look I get it, you don’t have to pretend anymore. I finally figured out why you brought us here”

He puts his hands on his hips and leans even closer, “and why’s that?” He was putting up a facade of confidence, but in reality his heart was hammering in his chest. So much so that he could hear it himself. He figured you found out about his discussions with Omera, about you.

“You’re cruel”, you whispered. He felt his stomach turn at your words. You finally turned fully, your bag clutched to your chest. He felt hopeless, his whole demeanor changed and in hunching he was able to trap you against the wall. His form was blocking you from moving.

“How is it cruel to want you?” His helmet was leaned against the wall, his arms caging you in, yet no part of him was touching you. Your breathing comes heavily, and as you turn to his head you see him already staring at the side of your face through the visor.

You could barely hear him through the modulator. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “What?”

He pushes himself off, suddenly gaining back his composure. “I understand if you don’t reciprocate, but calling me cruel for emotions I can’t control… that hurts” You say nothing as he continues. He paces around you as he rants, “I just can’t help it, you don’t understand, you’re everything … And seeing you, here, and having someone else see you the way I do… it made me realize that I could lose you too” His voice shakes at the end and you feel your eyes sting.

Pair of idiots…

Your silent tears are full of confusion, of anger and of yearning. He hears your sardonic laugh, “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you push me away? All this time I was thinking you hated me, that you wanted someone better, something better. You were cruel, and I tried to be there for you and you never gave me anything in return. Don’t you think I was scared of losing you too?”

You catch your breath and fully lean against the ledge of the bunk, “You’re an asshole” As you sit on the thin mattress pad, tired from all of the turmoil, he comes closer and kneels to the ground. With your hand in his he leads it to the cheek of his helmet. You protest weakly, “No…” He nuzzles into your hand like a loth cat, and you narrow your eyes at him, a hint of a smile appearing on your lips. He’s being ridiculous.

Placing your other hand on the other side of the helmet, he makes the motion for you to lift it up. You’ve seen him without the helmet, it wasn’t something particularly new to you, but he’s never done it willingly. That gives you pause.

He was impatient and instead of allowing you to do it yourself he just places his hands on top of yours and tugs it off roughly. He once again places one of your hands against his cheek, his real one. He cries. He doesn’t make a sound, or contorts his face, he just sheds tears. He hasn’t had this type of comfort in a long time, he’s not quite sure why he’s crying, but it felt like a combination of relief and regret.

He lays against your thighs, “I’m sorry, for being distant, and for not seeing that you’re hurting too” You just nod, not really forgiving him, but starting to understand his thought process.

“You’re an idiot, yknow” “Yeah”

A knock on the hull startles him off, immediately putting his helmet back on as he hears Omera. He scrambles off of you as she proceeds to knock against the hull again, this time shouting out that dinner was ready.

She sees you both come out, side by side and a little shaky. She looks between the two of you, assuming something much more intimate happened. As she sidles up beside you she pushes Mando farther away by her hip. She moves you forward and links her arm with yours.

He tenses and she develops a faint scowl.

Oh

As you two walk, in your case, getting dragged, to the communal area, you look back to Mando who’s a few steps behind. Your eyes widen, finally understanding. He just tilts his head. You see now?

Fortunately for you, and Mando, she lets go of you to grab some plates for herself and Winta. He stands close beside you, and you look up at his visor. “I didn’t know” He scoffs and it sounds muffled due to the modulator.

“What? I genuinely didn’t know. I thought she was just being nice” He huffs, “Nice. Yeah right” You look ready to scold him. “You two were spending a lot of time together too. You shouldn’t say anything” He’s quiet as he serves himself some of the meat and vegetables onto his plate.

“I wanted her advice” He leaves you staring after him, you watch as he strides to the outskirts of town, where the ship was located. As you try to leave you are suddenly stopped by Omera, who once again dragged you back to the dining area.

You’re quiet as you eat, no longer making small talk and instead glancing towards the ship, where you know he must be eating by himself. “Guess this is your last night?” She sees the direction you're looking at and she sighs. You just shrug. With a nod, she asks, “Did he tell you yet?”

You’re not sure what she was referring to. “You two are a bunch of idiots” You're just sitting there near the fire and watching as he finally emerges from the hull. She watches the longing from your eyes mixed with the reflection of the fire below. “Yeah, huh?”

It was getting late and instead of heading to your hut, you head to his. He wasn’t asleep just yet. Instead he was waiting for something, either you departing from the village or coming inside to see him.

You stand at the doorway and he reaches his hand out to you. He’s sitting on the bed and you get in between his legs. By your own volition you swiftly take off his helmet, watching as his curls unfurl and land on his head messily. It was dark and the only light coming in was from the small window across the other side of the room.

He stands and towers over you and you finally get a chance to really look at him. Half of his face was in darkness and the other in blue, making his eyes seem darker than they really were. The music outside fills the room, even from a distance you can hear the laughter of the villagers, especially the children. It reminds you of the kid.

“He liked it here didn’t he?” He looks down surprised, “Yeah, he did” Somehow that made you lose it. You haven't really mourned the loss, only really thinking about him in flashes. A blanket you would see in the market would immediately make you look away. When you would see Mando with his metal ball he never had the chance to give back, it made you turn away in your seat.

It was festering and it was there, you just choose to ignore it every day. Sometimes it was okay to cry, you thought as you were being held tightly against his chest. It means that you loved them, that they are loved. That most likely meant you were too.

You sway to the music now, both of you holding each other. “I miss him” , you say offhandedly. He grips you tighter, “Me too”

You didn’t know where the confidence came from but when you lifted your head from his shoulder you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for his mouth. The music had gotten slower and most of the village were asleep by then, you must have been “dancing” for a while. By now your tears have dried and you didn’t really care anymore. He was taken by surprise but reciprocated quickly thereafter.

You could faintly hear a muffled moan as you separated. “Maker, I missed you” “I missed you too” He has to crane his neck down to reach your lips again, so he does what any person would do in this situation. He picks you up and pins you against the wall. Then he kisses you. You grip his cowl tighter, molding his body closer to you

You groan his name as he adjusts his grip, hoisting you by the backs of your thighs against his growing bulge in his flight suit. Your hips involuntarily flex forward as he rubs against you, causing you to gasp and allowing him to force his tongue in your mouth. You both groan as he moves away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as he looks to you with hooded eyes and panting breaths.

“Let me make it up to you?” He looks up at you, licking his lips and eliciting a sound that sounded like a moan and a yes from you. He carries you to his bed only a few steps away. The kisses at your neck were gentle but as he progressed further towards your breasts he became more desperate. He slides his hands under your shirt, tugging your breast band down. One hand was occupied squeezing and groping, basically pawing at you, while the other was undoing whatever buttons, zips and ties you had that were holding your clothes together.

As he got lower and as he pushed your pants and undergarments further down, he couldn’t help but admire you. All this time being partners and he’s just now seeing you bare, wanting and beneath him. It’s a shame he couldn’t have gotten to this point sooner.

He kisses up your legs, kneading the apex of your thighs. He curses as he sees and feels the wetness between your thighs. You move against his fingers as he collects some of it and sucks it into his mouth. He couldn’t help himself from diving into you. He forces your thighs farther apart and pulls them over his shoulders. He squeezes you against his head and he feasts.

He’s a sloppy eater, groaning into you as you squeeze your thighs closer together. He grinds against the mattress and your back arches as you feel him rock himself back and forth against the bed. Every time he groans, every time he pants against you, you could feel it.

You feel yourself reach your peak, a new sense of desperation fills you and you start to frantically grind against his mouth, the bridge of his nose occasionally catching your clit and making you throb harder. You reach the tipping point as he sucks you into his mouth.

It felt as if your soul left your body, blood was rushing to your ears and you could feel your heart pulse hard against your ribs. You could faintly feel him lift himself off from you and trail up to your face. You almost forgot he was still completely clothed. You tugged against the plates of beskar around his body. He complied and piece by piece he pulled them off.

The next thing you knew he was completely bare, standing there, not fully knowing what to do. You had gone feral at that point, never before seeing him have so little on him, let alone naked. You grabbed his arm and flipped him on the bed. You couldn’t help but grind against him, causing him to groan.

You could feel him pulse against you and the heat increase between your legs. You barely sat on his tip before he was grabbing your hips, preventing you from further sheathing him inside.

You immediately back off, just in time to see him release himself against your stomach. “Sorry, I couldn’t-” You ignored him as you collected some of him on your fingers and licked it off. He was shocked into silence. It was only fair. He feels himself harden against you as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You wake up well-rested and sated. You turn to see him curled up against your back, his legs intertwined with yours and his arms holding you close. Every time you tried to move to get ready for the day he would pull you back against him. Grumbling and whining that you shouldn’t leave.

You were only able to get out of bed later than you usually would, only because of the racket of the villagers. Otherwise you would be in bed all day. You go through the day normally, except this time you didn’t have heavy doubts clouding your mind throughout the day.

Maybe you and Mando could learn to live here, maybe have a permanent vacation and retire. That would be nice, but it was too good to be true.

Mando came rushing to you, comm in hand, two notifications greeted you and both were described with importance. Boba was requesting your help, to build forces on Tatooine? And you were finally given coordinates to the kid.

Your break was officially over.

[hsakuras]

Trap | A. Arlert

cw: drug use(weed) drug dealer! Armin, coercion, dubcon, degradation, finger sucking, oral (f receiving), cream pie, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of baby trapping, self-indulgent

wc: 3.9k

[10:45p] Talk to Armin

You’re not sure what to say back, you want to laugh almost. You want to ask Eren if this is a joke for turning him down last week when he delivered your weed to you. You didn’t think it was that deep when you rejected him, the next text you get from him is Armin’s number.

He’s really serious.

You don’t reply. Not really in the mood to ask him why he won’t sell to you or what’s wrong with him. Instead you tap on the contact he sent you, saving it into your phone and replacing Eren’s spot.

You text him first asking if it’s Armin and explaining you got his contact from Eren. You figured they’d know each other, why else would Eren give you his number?

[11:00p] Hi! It’s me! What can I do for you?

You stifle a laugh, this is the guy you’re supposed to buy from? You know it’s awkward texting someone new for drugs but you’re almost ready to give up when he texts you again.

[11:03p] Eren just told me what you usually get, you want to meet me or should I bring it to you?

Usually you’d be in favor of getting anything you buy brought to you, but you figured it would be safer to meet him instead. Can’t have a stranger knowing where you live and your location is always on for your closest friends. You’ll be sure to text one of them before heading out.

Armin texts you an address of where to meet him. You’re quick to grab a jacket and slip your shoes on before heading out to meet him. You have half a mind to change into sweatpants before you leave but you don’t know how Armin is about being late and you don’t really feel like asking around for someone else to buy from.

The start of your drive is usual, listening and glancing to the directions of your gps to guide you across town. Recognizing that the further you go, the nicer the houses get, the bigger they get, and the more expensive they get. You almost text him to double check if you’re going the right way when it finally hits you.

You’ve met Armin before.

You were most likely fucked from a night of drinking or smoking, or both. You remember how he hung around Eren at a party and how he had on a stupid blue cardigan that matched his eyes. He looked like he didn’t even fit in with anyone. Just some cute, preppy kid running around with his family’s money, probably mixed in with the wrong crowd. It’s no wonder you’re pulling up to a nice house and of course there’s no wonder that there's a parade of cars here. You can see the numerous people with red solo cups in their hands, some stumbling, and the majority of them laughing at the antics of everyone else.

You almost want to leave when someone knocks on the window causing you to jump.

“Holy shit.” You roll your window down enough to be met with blue eyes. It’s Armin.

“Hey, uh, I have your stuff but you’re gonna have to come inside or wait out here.”

You only nod in response, not really giving him the solid answer he’s looking for.

“So are you cool waiting here orrr?”

“I’ll go inside, sorry.” You roll your window back up, taking the keys to your car and double checking to make sure it locks before following Armin inside the house.

The crowd of people outside pales in comparison to the sea of bodies inside of his house. Music blaring and your vision immediately falls to the sweaty bodies dancing in the middle of the huge living room. You continue to look around, watching in awe of how easily people let loose after a couple drinks or hits from a joint. You’re tempted to join them, that is until you make out Eren’s form holding a rolled joint up to Mikasa’s lips. You watch as she hesitantly leans forward and inhales before coughing while Eren laughs. You look away before he can see you, still following Armin before he offers his arm out to you.

“Last fuckin’ time I let Eren throw a ‘small’ party here.”

You laugh a little, holding onto Armin while he leads you upstairs. There are fewer people upstairs, some sitting around to get away from the crowd. Others start to roll a joint before they scramble to put their papers and weed away when they see Armin. He doesn’t pay them any attention, instead, he tells a couple looking for an unlocked room to ‘fuck off’ before unlocking the door to what you think is his room.

Inside everything is organized, you expected it to be. I mean this was Armin you were following, cute Armin with all of his white collared button-ups and cardigans. You don’t recall if you’ve ever seen him in a t-shirt, you watch as he fumbles around by his nightstand, still wary before he encourages you to come in and please shut the door behind you.

He tells you to have a seat on his bed, asking you if you can roll or if you want him to roll a joint for the both of you. You don’t really give him an answer before he finds his tray adorned with wrapping papers, a grinder, and more weed on it. He hands you your baggie of weed telling you that he doesn’t mind sharing his, you don’t know that he only shares his weed with girls he wants to fuck. He loves when new girls like you hit him up for bud, not worried in the slightest bit because Armin isn’t like Eren those sleazy drug dealers, he’s kind and cute.

Your eyes wander to the little bedside table where the drawer isn’t closed all the way and you can see all types of bags full of weed, you can see the scale that his weed was sitting on, and you can make out a smaller bag full of what you can only assume is molly. Part of you wants to ask why he spends his time selling, you’re in awe of his house and you’re sure that his family has more than enough for him to live comfortably.

Lithe fingers roll the joint together before his tongue peeks out of his mouth to ensure it stays together.

“Got a lighter?”

You nod, reaching into the pocket of your jacket and handing it to him. His hand envelops yours and his touch makes butterflies awaken in your stomach. You’re quick to smother them, telling yourself you’re only here for the weed and now a quick smoke session. Nothing else.

Ever the gentleman, he offers you the first hit, gently placing the joint between your lips despite your efforts to take it from him. He holds the lighter at the end and you study his face before you can finally inhale. The smoke makes the back of your throat burn, you cough a little and Armin laughs before plucking the joint from you and placing it on his lips. He inhales, the end lighting up in a bright orange while he takes off the cardigan he’s wearing.

“Sorry, it’s getting stuffy.” He says before passing the joint back to you, thankfully, he hands it to you this time. You take a longer drag, staring at the pretty veins on his arms and realizing how strong he might actually be. He isn’t like Eren, you think, he’s comfortable in the silence and you feel relieved that you no longer have to text his best friend for your drugs, not when Armin is better at responding and willing to smoke you out even if it’s just this time.

You take another hit, enjoying the feeling of your limbs growing heavy and your head swirling in bliss. You feel weightless yet heavy and you’re amazed at how only three hits has you feeling this way. It’s way better than anything Eren has ever given you.

“Armin” you say, mouth going completely dry when you notice that he’s unbuttoned part of his shirt and you can see his abs peeking through when you stretch your hand out to him holding the joint. He’s happy to take it from you, watching as you slowly grow even more comfortable on his bed, toeing your shoes off before letting your jacket fall off your shoulder revealing your little tank top you wear to bed. He takes one last hit before he tells you to finish it.

You’re not sure you can finish it, looking at the camera on your phone and seeing how glazed over your eyes look. Armin tells you to get comfortable, it’s fine. He’ll make sure that no one comes in to bother either of you.

Just trust him.

He watches as you bring the remainder of the joint back up to your lips, watching as you take hit after hit and giggling when you blow smoke on accident in his face, or when you accidentally lean a little too far forward into his own personal space. You even have the audacity to look up at him and say that you’re not even that high.

Oh but if you could see yourself through his eyes, you’re absolutely fucking baked. Pretty eyes glazed and red rimmed while you drink the water bottle he offers you, watching as a small droplet makes its way down from the corner of your mouth. You put the bottle down, “s’kay Min.” You slur and he knows he’s got you.

He reaches over and wipes the water away and you swear he’s unbuttoning his shirt when you’re not looking because there’s no way he just casually shows that much of himself to you. “You’re so pretty” he whispers, the pad of his thumb grazing over your bottom lip before looking back up into your eyes.

The compliment catches you off guard and you’re not sure if it’s the marijuana that gives you courage or the fact you would do anything to get lost in Armin’s baby blue eyes but you allow your tongue to slip out licking the pad of his thumb before he’s pushing it into your mouth. You immediately suck and Armin finally gives you a smirk that has arousal pooling in your belly. You let go of his finger and he presses his lip against yours, immediately you let his tongue in when you feel it against your lips, your hands finding the remaining buttons on his shirt and quickly pulling it apart.

Armin knows he’s got you where he wants you. Pretty thing like you walking into his house with sleep shorts, tank top, and no bra? He knew you wouldn’t protest when he started to roll the joint for you, knew that you’d smoke the entire joint because you haven’t felt this fucking relaxed in a while. He’d call you pretty while your eyes are all red and your mind seems hazy.

Your hands run along the taut muscles of his abdomen, and he’s pushing you back towards his bed. His thigh slotted in between your thighs and you fight the urge to grind down on it, knowing that he could probably feel how wet you would get just at his fleeting touches that set your skin on fire. He kisses your lips one last time before kissing your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point just to get you to squirm.

Then he feels it.

The warmth of your pretty little pussy on his thigh and fuck he can’t wait to feel you. He wants a taste, his mouth waters at the thought of your honeyed essence on his tongue and coating his chin, how your hands must feel in his hair and what your breathy moans would sound like panting out his name.

He pulls your shirt up, pinching one of your nipples while wrapping his lips around the other, tongue flicking the hardening bud before continuing his descent on your body. Both of his hands are on your tits while he plants warm kisses along your stomach, making sure to tease along the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He’s quick to adjust the both of you, pulling you closer to the foot of the bed by your ankles before kneeling in between your pussy.

“Armin, wait—” whatever plea you had for him dies in your throat when you feel his nose press along your clothes folds, inhaling your sweet scent. He presses a kiss to it, whispering praises barely loud enough for you to hear. Telling you how pretty you look and asking to let him taste you even though he’s already pulling your shorts and panties down your legs. He groans when your cunt, mutters something about how cute your pretty pussy looks. His knuckle coming up to swipe at your slit, groaning when your slick covers it and how sensitive you are under his touch.

You feel him lick a stripe along your folds, your thighs squishing his face before strong arms come to keep you in place. You’re not allowed to interrupt him, not while he’s enjoying himself.

His lips wrap around your clit, using his fingers to reveal it to him, the sensation has you mewling and arching your back into his face. His tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves until your hands find his hair. Your fingers carding through his soft blonde locks while you beg and plead for more. He lets go of your clit in favor of licking your slit, he moans when he finally gets a taste of you, tongue wandering into your gummy walls while his nose hits your puffy clit over and over again. Your mewls are getting louder and you're begging for more, for something more because you need to cum, he has to let you cum.

Armin pulls away and you sob out to him, “Min, please, need to cum, make me cum, please.”

He can’t say no, not when his chin is covered in your slick and his cock twitches every time you plead and whine his name. He holds your legs apart, delivering a quick slap to the inside of your thigh when you attempt to close them when the pad of his middle finger finds your clit. “Keep you legs open.” He says, voice low and gravely. He doesn’t waste time, inserting his middle finger to his knuckle. The feeling of you tight, velvety walls around his digit makes his dick twitch and serve as an aching reminder that he’s not done with you yet, he won’t let you leave after this. Not until he gets to bury himself deep into the velvet of your pussy.

The muscles of his arm are protruding with the pace he sets as he finger fucks you, his lips wrapped around your clit and he begins to suck and you swear you’re in another fucking dimension with how euphoric you feel. The weed in your system makes you extra sensitive and Armin can feel another gush of your arousal all over his hand.

“Armin, fuck,fuck,fuck!”

“Give it to me, baby, wanna see you cream all over my fingers come on.”

He has to see it, inserting his ring finger and adding to your pleasure when he finds that spongey little spot inside of you that has you arching into his touch again. He takes it has his cue to lick and suck on your abused bud again, watching how pretty you look when your voice fails you and your scream goes silent as you cum around his fingers, eyes crossing as you finally give him what he wants.

“Atta girl, squeezing my fingers so tight.”

He slowly pulls his fingers out, eyes fixed on the translucent strings webbing his fingers together before he stands up. You hear the sound of him undoing his zipper before you register what he’s actually doing. With the strength you have you find his hands, watching as he takes off the remainder of his clothes, throwing them somewhere in his room.

Your mouth goes dry when your eyes land on his cock, you didn’t expect him to be so big, to have a pretty vein adorning either side of his shaft and his tip a pretty shade of bubblegum pink with a bead of precum decorating it.

“Armin, wait” you scoot back from him, “m’ still sensitive” you remind him. Your words are slurred and it doesn’t stop Armin from craning his head down and kissing you. Making you taste yourself while he hooks his hands under your thighs, exposing your pussy to his greedy eyes. “You’ll be okay, just be good for me yeah?”

Those blue eyes meet yours again and you’re positive you’re drowning in them. His pupils blown wide as he aligns himself with your drooling entrance, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, finding your hands and pinning them beside your head. He slowly inches himself forward, reveling in the feeling of your gummy walls stretching around his girth. He fights the urge to cum as your pussy flutters around him, he looks down at you, completely fucked out and eyes beginning to water as he slowly pulls back before thrusting into you again.

He lets go of your hands, one of them pushing your thighs into your chest while he brings the pads of his middle and ring fingers to prod at your lips, “suck” he demands, slowing his thrusts to allow you to wrap your lips around them. You taste yourself on his skin, tongue skillfully running along his nails and swirling around both of them.

“Is this why you texted me? Couldn’t get your stupid cunt fucked by Jaeger?” You don’t reply, still sucking on his fingers while he delivers a harsh snap of his hips against yours, he feels the vibrations of your whine, shoving his fingers further into your mouth a smirking when he feels your throat constrict around them.

“Eren doesn’t like easy sluts like you.”

He roughly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, gripping your cheek harshly and making your skin sticky with your own spit. “Keep your fucking mouth open.” You hear him gathering saliva in his mouth before his spit lands on your tongue. You swallow it without being asked, eyes rolling into the back of your skull when he begins his harsh pace again.

“Wonder what he’d say, if he saw you fucking his best friend right now. He said you were so cute, you know?” Both palms are on the back of your thighs, he’s pushing them impossibly close to your chest and letting his weight fall on top of you with each thrust. “Bet he doesn’t know that a little weed gets you desperate for cock huh?”

“m’not desperate” you slur, he slaps the back of your thighs, sending pleasurable pain shooting through your body. “Want me to call him in here? Have him see you cream all over my fucking cock?”

You nod no, but the way your cunt squeezes Armin’s length lets him know all that he needs to.

“Filthy bitch, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He cranes his head down again, sloppily kissing you and allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, groaning when he feels your hands pulling his biceps closer to you. You turn your head away from him, sputtering a bit before begging for more, for Armin to fuck you harder, faster.

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his pace never faltering as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Mouth falling open and brows knitting together while you moan loud enough for anyone to hear if they were to walk by the door. You can feel the head of his dick kiss your cervix with each thrust, “say my name” he grits.

He can feel your gummy walls fluttering, he knows your close, still sensitive from the previous orgasm and from the weed you smoked earlier. Your mind is spinning and you feel so dizzy, so fucking good as Armin continues to fuck you.

“Armin! Cum inside, fuck, cum inside please!”

Hook, line, sinker.

Who knew that’s a joint is all it took to get you in bed, he almost feels bad that Eren couldn’t get to this point with you. His loss is his gain, he’d make sure that the only name you moan from now on is his, he’ll make sure Eren hears you high pitched squeals for Armin to spill himself inside of you.

“Yeah? You want me to cum inside of you? Fill your pretty little pussy up?” He groans when he feels you squeeze him again, your nails biting into the skin of his forearm as you let out a string of pleads for him to not stop.

“What if I knock you up huh? Give you a fuckin’ baby so all you can think about is me from now on?”

The fear in your eyes spurs him on, his fingers finding your sore clit until he can feel your legs trembling against him. The way he circles your bud paired with his harsh thrusts sends you over the edge, back arching and a silent sob escaping your throat while you gush all over Armin’s cock, “Fuck yeah, give it to me, dirty bitch”

“Armin! Cumming!” You squeal as if he didn’t know, Armin isn’t too far after you, keeping his words and spewing curses out as he empties his hot seed inside of you. You moan pulling Armin in for a kiss while his cock pulsates inside of you, both of you reveling in each other and your highs.

Your breathing labored as he slowly lets your legs fall against the bed. He stays buried inside of you, watching as you fight your sleep.

“Hey, stay with me for a bit, yeah? Gotta clean you up.”

You nod, closing your eyes but listening to him go to his bathroom and coming back with a warm washcloth. The warmth of the washcloth feels good against your skin, Armin adjusts you on his bed before pulling you up and helping you to the bathroom.

“You okay?”

“Mhmm” you hum, looking up at him while he helps you sit down, telling you where everything is before walking out to give you privacy.

He begins to pick up both of your clothes, setting them aside while he adjusts the bed for you to sleep in. He isn’t that heartless, he’s sure he’ll talk to you before you go home tomorrow, even if you manage to slip out before he wakes he knows you’ll be back, after all it’s not like you know anyone else that would sell to you.

He picks up the clothes again, your panties falling onto the floor. He looks up to make sure you’re still in the bathroom so you don’t see where he keeps your panties, it’s not like you would need them anyway.

He throws the rest of the clothes into his laundry basket, finding his phone to look for Eren’s contact.

[2:02am]You’re right, y/n is really cute.

[2:02am] She’s staying with me tonight.

“Who are you texting?”

Your voice startles him, he smiles before getting up to help you into his bed.

“No one important. Trust me”

[truehappinessissonear]

im so normal about cxg

ive done a few,,, ig ramblings about this silly show and now i have tumblr so people who get it can see it. also i got in the top 0.05% for cxg for spotify wrapped i think that means i get bitches (real). this was done at like 3am in an airport so. ignore. typos and stuff. ALSO i literally wrote this as it came to mind so. yeah.

so we have Where's the bathroom which is a song about wanting to please a mother that can't really be pleased. "Where's the bathroom" comes from Rachel Bloom cus she said "thsts normally what a mum says to you after you haven't talked in ages". I think it especially applies to Naomi who cares little about Rebecca's happiness instead her own needs or her needs to project the life she wanted onto her daughter. The song is fastpaced and the lyrics change topic constantly to show how exhausting it can be to deal with Naomi. It's like running a fast race. Interesting the one slow part of the song (other than the break where Rebecca physically and lyrically gets to breath) is when Rebecca finally snaps and shouts, this part is slower and goes on for longer as (as Rebecca says) Naomi does anything to rub stuff in her face

maybe I shouldn't do this at 3am I'll leave stuff out

the reprise of "Where's the bathroom" is "There's no bathroom" which is sang by Weird Al (it was kinda an excuse to just let him be in the show) and people say it's random but let me think abkut this. Greg is trying to impress Rebecca. Compared to Nathaniel and Josh he feels like he doesn't stand a chance, due to Natheniels riches and Rebecca's history with Josh. So he buys a hot air balloon, and wears a rainbow tie because he's desperate to impress her similar to how Rebecca was desperate to impress Naomi. This song focuses on the one fact that there's no bathroom on the balloon and thst he'll have to break it to her. I think it's Greg's nervous mind worried thst she's gonna hate it.

But other times a bathroom is important in cxg -Buzzing from the bathroom -Thanksgiving -The club incident -Last episode -Some extent the headphones bathroom incident

quick fire round

Buzzing from the bathroom is Jim finding out he's not been pleasing his wife even though "they use 2 different positions every other Sunday night" and thst he'd not been pleasing her for 15 (I think it's 15) years. it's a ballad as this is a shock to him. he thought thst he'd been pleasing (impressing) her but in fact she never finished once, having to go off to the bathroom to do it herself

Thanksgiving Rebecca did everything to impress Josh and his family. She leaned the language a bit and cooked the food and she was actually impressing them (as for some reason they care about smarts even tho josh has 1 brain cell) valencia had been failing to impress them the entire time and thst caused strain between val and josh which was a win for rebecca as she could impress more. However then she got sick due to the food and ran to the bathroom where she had to sit for ages watching Val and Josh do it. In the end they please and impress eachother so much that they move in together, and Rebecca saw all this from the bathroom, where she started associating toilets with heartbreak

ALSO I FORGOT

the portapotty

The club incident happens after Rebecca tries to impress the 2 people who she cares most about in her life. Paula and Josh. Paula was mad at her due to a whole pregnancy incident and the fact thst Rebecca doesn't really,,, listen to people and often talks over them with her problems. So Rebecca babysits Tommy to get back Paulas friendship. However she gets tangled up because Josh is sick and she's trying to impress him by buying him soup, who he thinks is from his girlfriend. So when Rebecca goes to the club to tell him, and brings Tommy eith her Tommy gets lost and she looks for him with Heather. The two get stuck in the bathroom and watch Josh and Anna special hug/ref. Which they do because Josh is so impressed by Anna and Anna assumes she's gonna be impressed with Josh because he builds up this thing. So once again like Thanksgiving despite Rebecca's countless attempts to impress people, she fails in both ways and instead watches someone get pleased by Josh because of her work.Last episode we see the return of the dream ghost. Rebecca fell asleep on the toilet after drinking Joshs weird juice and is now dreaming about what she's supposed to do with her life. She has to choose between the three men who have been trying to impress her and OK I REALISE I SHOULDVE DONE THIS ONE LAST but she isn't impressed with herself- which she sees in her dreams because no matter what she's unhappy and depressed about her lifeThe the headphone incident is (spoiler( after rebeccas sui attempt her three friends stayed eith her the entire time and even slept outside her room to make sure she was OK. then she goes into a bathroom eith headphones and they all assume in a panic thst she committed suicide with Vals nail clippers. I wanna do a character study on val and this episode is important for it. Basically when she comes out Heather and Paula are like "we were so worried" but Valencias full on sobbing. The whole episode Val had been seen as a sort of performative activist about the whole situation but (I ACTUALLY DID AN ANALYSIS ON THIS SONG LIKE AGES AGO) as seen in this is my movement she does think this is for the best. She just wanted Rebecca, her first female friend to be ok. Val cares for Rebecca so much , in the episode...prior??? 2 episodes before maybe she tries to act like she didn't care. When they were searching she says "she's lucky she's cray because my earrings would've been the first thing to come out" insinuating she was gonna hit her. But would she actually?'- OK gotta stop. myself I was gonna delve into Vals character whoops. Uhm point is they're hard to make Rebecca happy and safe thst they become iverbearing and wantto follow her into the bathroom now the portapotty incident. this is at the taco festival in season 1 episode 4 and its at Greg and Rebecca's date. So Rebecca is trying to convince herself to stay with Greg, to settle for him. (I should've done this before the others( and honestly he's not that impressive at the date (hence the settle for me thing( but he doesn't need to be. They get along well and it's going well and it goes bad for completely unrelated reasons. Rather than be in clean bathroom this time Rebecca's in a portapotty and sings into the mirror (they literally recorded this live in the portapotty as "You can't fake a portapotty noise"-Rachel Bloom)

walking through the airport rn but BASICALLY!! how could I gorget the song Paula's stuck in the bathroom. Context is that Rebecca started being friends with Heather and Val so Paula and Rebecca started drifting and in response Rebecca triest o force a friendship. Then everything crumbles down metaphorically and physically and then Paula is stuck in the bathroom. OK DONE WALKING. Once again Rebecca was desperate to impress someone and this time it harmed them, it causes a big fight.in conclusion in cxgtoilets are a metaphor for wanting to impress someone

[redfirefox-55]

Y’know,I’ve already talked to all my friends that would care about this topic and I still have brain rot so imma just ramble on here.

Genshin players that really hate the lost sibling kinda weird me out.. like if you actually think about the story and all that they’ve gone through the hate that they get just seems strange.

Like the whole thing of “they’re so horrible, they totally abandoned the traveler. If I were the traveler I would just forget about my sibling and go hang out with her other characters in Teyvat.”

But like first of all their sibling isn’t just someone they could forget like that.. they’re their ONLY living family member. Not to mention that the twins were traveling together for THOUSANDS OF YEARS before they got to Teyvat..

Secondly, they didn’t even abandon them? Like what part of “so we’ll meet again. Though we need not rush sister/brother, I have more then enough time to wait for you.” Screams “I’m abandoning you, go f*ck yourself loser” to these people? They literally just said “hey, you don’t have the full context of what’s going on. please go finish your journey and learn what’s actually happening, then we can talk about this more.”

Thirdly, have these people not realized how awful the last 500 years have been for the lost sibling? Like it was probably like what the traveler has been through, just 10 times worse.

Like imagine being trapped on this world that is currently going to sh*t because of a war between gods and humans, having no idea where your twin sibling is or if they’re even alive, and instead of having Paimon to be your companion, you have freaking pessimistic Dainsleif over there..

It must have been absolute hell. like if you think the traveler isn’t doing to good right now, (which they probably aren’t to be fair.) the lost sibling has had it way worse for a way longer time.

Now that all said this doesn’t mean that they’re justified in what they’re doing.

In the 2.6 archon quest their plan was unnecessary cruel and had a very low chance of working yet they didn’t seem to care. I don’t think they didn’t care because they’re a bad person, I think that they’ve been so desensitized to violence and suffering that it just doesn’t bother them anymore and they don’t see that what they’re doing is wrong.

And to me that says a lot about those 500 years of separation between the twins.

Even though it sucks that they were apart for so long, it may actually not have been a terrible thing that the traveler slept for so long. It just means that they got to avoid all the heartbreak their sibling had to endure.

But anyways, in conclusion, I feel like the people that really dislike the characters either have some kind of family/abandonment issues, or just haven’t really thought much about them in the context of the full story.

And that’s fine, I’m not saying you have to like them as characters, I’m just saying it’s not as black and white as people say it is.

And the story isn’t finished yet. Im assuming that towards the end of the game when we get some real answers about what happened 500 years ago a lot of people will change their minds about them.

[novaglenn]

a little more than strangers pt 2

prompt: during your shift, someone arrives asking for help but you refuse since they haven’t got the money to pay. the person retaliates and jinx arrives in time to help.

a/n: so after thinking it over and actually coming up with an idea that i thought was good enough, i decided to write a part 2. i kinda ended it with the possibility of a part 3 but idk i might have to see how i feel. hope you guys like it!

part 1 here

“Hey doc, you got a moment to help me when you’re finished?” You turn around to find a tanned man, despite his rough looks doesn’t seem to be that much taller than you. If they’re here then they must’ve gotten into a fight, probably one that involves knives, judging by the gash running down from their shoulder and ending at their elbow. You signal for them to take a seat, before turning your attention back to the patient you were currently seeing.

“Make sure to take one pill every six hours, if there are any side effects come back and see me.” You hand your patient the medicine and walk them to the exit, once they’ve left you turn the sign around to signal that the clinic would be closed for the time being. “What happened to you?” you ask, whilst collecting the stuff you need to fix them up.

“Just someone who owed some money,” they reply, you can hear the anger laced in their tone and you assume that they didn’t get what they were looking for. Hopefully they don’t end up transferring their anger onto you, but you can’t be too sure, some of the people you’ve encountered were unpredictable. “Speaking of money, I need that before I can look at your wound,” all you get is silence and you turn to find the man looking away from you, a blank look on their face.

You don’t have to ask them, their expression is already giving you their answer. A sigh escapes your lips, if this was a specific tattooed girl you would have probably said it was fine, but you vaguely know this man so you set down the equipment that you were holding. “Your name is Gideon, right? You’ve been here before, but you know the deal. No money no fix up.” The man stands up at your words and it’s just your luck that they’re standing close enough to the entrance that they grab their gun if they decide to.

The thought has you panicking just a little bit, hopefully you have enough of an influence that Gideon won’t choose to immediately shoot you. “I can pay you next time, so can’t you just treat me now?” They question as they decide to take a step closer. You try not to make any sudden movements, and choose to stay calm, if any violence occurs then your services may be lost and that wouldn’t be good for the people in Zaun.

“It’s nothing personal, it’s just how I do business. I’m sure there are other doctors here that can treat you.” Gideon takes another step forward; one more will mean that they’ll be within reach to grab onto you. “But those people ask for too much money,” they answer. You have nothing to say to that, but it only leads to Gideon taking another step closer. “How… about a temporary payment?” You suggest and the tense aura that surrounds the man lessens by just a small amount.

You start to think of a possible way that they can pay and from what you can tell, Gideon doesn’t have anything of value on him that you can hold onto. You remember the gun, from the looks of it, must be a standard one. Not like Jinx’s with all the paint and personality that covers it, so you assume that it has no sentimental value to them. “How about your gun? Leave it with me and you can come back with the money later?” You offer but a look of anger crosses their face.

“I thought you were a doctor; do you want me to die?” They question and before you can argue back, they’re raising their hand. It felt like time slowed down for a moment, but you couldn’t react in time. For a second there you were surprised, you kind of expected them to punch you yet for some reason you didn’t think they would. “Will you fix me up?” They ask, but you only shake your head.

If someone hears about you letting somebody off without payment, then everyone else will expect the same treatment. You feel the wind get knocked out of you, it didn’t feel like your ribs broke from the impact, but it’s hard to tell, all you know was that it was definitely going to hurt for a while.

“How about now?” you’re defiant, choosing not to say anything again. Gideon grabs you by the collar, you don’t feel the impact, but the pain comes back tenfold. They raise their hand ready to punch you a third time, when the sound of the door opening catches their attention. “Let her go,” the familiar voice catches your attention, and you find a blue haired girl standing there, her hand raised and gun in hand. “Well, if isn’t Jinx. Does your daddy know that you’re here?” Gideon replies, they throw you to the side as if you were nothing, and the action is enough for Jinx to place her finger on the trigger.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to know one of his men can’t even handle a simple job,” Jinx fires back, a smirk playing on her lips, which only causes the anger in Gideon to ignite. He steps forward, but Jinx aims at the ground and is pulling the trigger before he can even move. “The next one will be in your head, if you don’t leave now.” The smirk on her face disappears, only leaving her with anger instead.

You’re thankful that Gideon knows that he’s at a loss and decides to leave, plus the fact that you don’t have the money to repair the clinic if they did decide to do a shoot-out. You can feel the pain getting stronger, so you start shuffling your way towards your desk. It feels like you’re taking forever, but then you remember your injuries. That guy sure did a number on you and it seems like you might have to take a few days off.

“I got you, darling.” Jinx wraps her arm around your waist, and it’s only then that you remember that she’s here. If she hadn’t come when she did, you weren’t sure what would’ve happened to you. The fact that she threatened that guy for you is more of a surprise, but with Jinx you can never seem to get a good read on her. “Thanks,” a hiss escapes your lips, a result of the pain erupting near your stomach. You lift your shirt and press gently against your diaphragm; the pain flares up and you probably shouldn’t have done that but at least it helped confirm that your ribs aren’t broken.

“If you wanted to take off your shirt, you could’ve asked me to do it.” Jinx winks at you and out of habit you chuckle at her words, the pain is back, and you start hunching over your desk, praying it goes away. “I’m sorry! I should’ve kept my mouth shut!” Jinx walks away and immediately starts moving around the clinic, grabbing everything she recognises. You tell her that she doesn’t need to apologise but she doesn’t look your way at all or acknowledges your words.

The moment she searches in one of the cupboards nearby, you reach out for her hand and stop her frantic movements. “Hey, you don’t need to apologise,” your voice is gentle and with your thumb, start to rub her hand, hoping to soothe her worry. Jinx doesn’t answer, so you swivel around in your chair, ignoring the pain that comes with the action and reach out to gran her other hand.

You pull her towards you, and without a second thought, rest the palm of your hands on her waist. Jinx finally looks up at you, maybe that was too forward but her expression finally relaxes, the worry dissipating slowly. “You didn’t hurt me, Gideon did.” You state and instead of saying anything, Jinx sends you a smile, the same one you saw before, but this time it makes your heart race.

“So, are you going to help me or not?” You hand her one of the clean cloth’s that she grabbed earlier, and without a word Jinx gets to work. Now that you have a chance to see her up close, you realise how beautiful she is. When she came in for help last time, you were so focused on patching her up to get a good look, and now that you have the chance you can’t stop looking at her. Your attention is broken when you realise that Jinx is staring right back.

Did she catch you? You’re embarrassed at the thought and look away, how long was she staring at you, maybe she was just checking your face was clean and bandaged up. One quick glance to a mirror on the wall tells you that she’s finished, and did a pretty good job by the looks of it. “Why don’t we uh, call this payback for when I fixed you up,” you get up and start to find something to do, just so you can get rid of this embarrassment that you’re feeling.

“I think I have a better idea,” the clicking of her boots nears you and you’re about to reply when a pair of soft lips press against your cheeks. The kiss is quick, and you turn to find Jinx standing in front of you, a mischievous look now on her face. “How about that for payback,” she adds. “And this…” You notice the way her eyes wander to your lips, and without another word she grabs you face, making sure to be mindful of your injuries and captures your lips with her own.

You tense up for a second, deep down you were hoping for this, but you weren’t sure if it would actually happen. Thankfully you didn’t have any cuts on your lips, courtesy of Gideon, otherwise your first kiss with Jinx would have you feeling discomfort. It doesn’t last long though, and soon Jinx is pulling away, leaving her with a grin on her face that you’re deciding is too cute for your liking.

“…Was because I’ve wanted to do it since I saw you,” she continues. Jinx lets go of you and just like your last encounter, is already heading for the exit before you can say anything. You manage to come to your senses in time to ask her, “Would you like to hang out sometime? Somewhere that isn’t here?” Jinx stops at your words, she grabs her chin with her hand, as if giving the impression that she’s thinking about it.

Even though you know she’ll probably say yes, you’re still worried that despite want just happened, maybe just maybe, she’ll say no and you’ll never see her again. “I’m expecting a real nice date, darling,” Jinx winks at you before she is disappearing into the night. You’re injured and in pain, yet you’re left feeling like you could do anything. Now you just hope that you can come up with a good enough plan for a date that Jinx will enjoy.

[omgreally]

Hi there!

Could I please make a little request for Din?

"I didn't know where else to go"

Thank you, hope you're doing ok today! ❤

Hey lovely! First off, I am SO SORRY this took so long. I know it's been months and I have nothing but terrible excuses. Hopefully this makes up for it at least a little?

Shelter M, Din Djarin/Smuggler F!Reader, 2.1k words Warnings: Angst, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, swearing, Helmetless!Din, lil bit of making out, brief almost-but-not-quite questionable consent, unresolved sexual tension (but who knows, maybe I'll do a Part II?) Summary: Mando has nothing left, nowhere to go. Except to you.

He stands on your doorstep, a soaking wet mass of metal and muscle. The rain falls in rolling sheets, sliding through his hair, down the back of his neck, underneath his cloak and in shining rivulets over his Beskar breastplate.

Without the helm, the Mandalorian looks...smaller, somehow, deflated, but maybe that’s just the defeated look lurking in the dark space behind his eyes.

He looks drained. Empty.

It’s him, though - nobody can fake pure Beskar armor, much less the set he wears. It’s mirror-finish, reflecting your stunned expression in rain-blurred steel.

You open your mouth to say something, but fail to find the words. They all seem so inadequate to address Mando standing in front of you, maskless.

He’s not quite looking at you, his gaze alternating between the ground and somewhere beyond your left ear. You resist the urge to glance behind you, instead taking him in, cataloguing the changes since you last saw him.

It’s been months, but it usually is. His circuitous route of bounty hunting doesn’t intersect with your parts of the Rim very much, which is fine; this way your businesses don’t overlap. As a smuggler, you’re far too likely to be on the wrong end of a tracking fob, so you stay away and so does he.

Once, you were a useful connection. You’re not sure when you crossed the line into ‘ally’, much less ‘friend’. Yet here he is, staring at you through the pouring rain. Helmet off, tucked almost protectively underneath his arm.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says, dully, and his voice sounds so different yet familiar that you experience a sense of disorientation, of the planet’s surface tilting beneath your feet as you re-orient yourself to this strange new reality where the Mandalorian comes to you for help.

Once, you would have asked for credits first. Now, all you say as you recover from your shock is, “Are you all right?” He shakes his head mutely as you step back and allow him access into your planetside flat.

It’s small, so small that his arm brushes you as he steps over the threshold. You resist the odd urge to put a hand on his shoulder; you’ve never had to comfort him before, save for buying him a round at some space dive or other after a job gone bad. This is something different. This is something else entirely.

You don’t ask what happened. You doubt he’ll give you a straight answer anyway. And you don’t ask about the helmet. He takes a seat at the kitchenette counter and sets it down on the counter in front of him. The black, empty visor stares at you silently as you fetch a bottle of something cheap and strong and hand it to him, knowing he won’t need a glass.

Mando uncaps it and takes a long drag without a word. He makes a face - so strange to see the expressions that are usually hidden by the mask of the helmet - and suppresses a cough as he hands the bottle back to you. You shake your head and set it down next to the Beskar headpiece.

You’re not known for your empathy, and neither is he, so you settle on practicality which you know he appreciates. “Are you injured?” you ask, businesslike as you examine his face a little closer. There’s the bloom of a bruise on one temple, underneath the damp plaster of his dark hair.

“Not permanently,” he says, that trace of dry sardonicism that you usually find irresistibly hilarious now making you frown. “I’m fine,” he adds gruffly as he reads your expression. You huff, crossing your arms, but he says nothing more. Just picks up the bottle again and swigs with an audible “Ahh,” from his throat.

“Why are you here?” you ask, at last, after watching him drink for a minute in silence. Mando looks at you, at your eyes, and holds your gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before he finally answers.

“I lost him.”

“The kid?” It feels like you’ve been hit, the air punched from your lungs. You assumed he was back on the Crest, asleep, not - gone.

You had only met the little gremlin twice, once when Mando needed fuel and ammo on the cheap, another for a place to lay low for a day or two. The weird green creature...grew on you, like a very cute fungus. His nonsensical babbling, insatiable appetite, and obvious love for the Mandalorian was infectious. You admit it; you were weak. You got fond. And, in turn, fonder of Mando himself.

And now…

“You found his people?” you manage, and it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat and Mando offers you the bottle. You take it, tossing your head back for a deep swig. It burns going down and warms the suddenly-cold cavity inside your chest.

“Yeah,” Mando says. “He’s...he’s safe, now.” The he was never safe with me is unspoken but you hear it anyway. You pass the bottle back to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and mean it. “I know...I know it was never a permanent arrangement, but he clearly meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at his helmet before fitting the rim of the bottle to his lips, tossing his head back and draining the rest of its contents in several long gulps.

You watch the shape of his throat bob in his neck above the wet snarl of his cloak and look away quickly. A buzz is building in your veins already and he’s had most of the bottle - you’re surprised he’s still upright.

“You holing up in your junker tonight?” you wonder, after casting around for a change of subject. An expression of pain crosses Mando’s face, a grimace not caused by the alcohol, for just a second before it’s gone.

“The Crest is gone. Melted to slag and dust.” He says it without inflection, and that’s how you know it’s hurting him.

“Fuck,” you summarize elegantly. Mando nods.

“I haven’t got anything left,” he states. “No ship. No credits. No more favors to call in. Nothing.”

You reach out, more out of anger than anything else, and grab his hand, squeezing so tightly that the wet leather squelches. “Stop it,” you say harshly. “You have everything you need. You’re a kriffing Mandalorian.”

He snorts, pulling his hand away - with some effort. “Not anymore.” He stares down at his helmet, and beneath the scruff and fuzz and rain, his lips press together in a tight line.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I broke my Creed,” he shrugs, setting a hand atop the smooth dome of Beskar. “More than once. Didn’t matter at the time. All that mattered...was saving the kid. Making sure he was safe.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, then,” you say, shaking your head. “You pick yourself up. You rebuild. You move on.”

“How can I?” He meets your gaze, and you flinch at the dark intensity of his - something molten, furious there that you’re suddenly afraid of. You haven’t forgotten the promise of violence coiled in his every limb. “I have nothing to go back to. Nowhere to go. That’s why I’m here.” He waves a gloved hand with obvious disgust, and for some reason, that hurts, a sting behind your breastbone like something almost physical.

Mando must see the look on your face, for he wilts like damp lettuce. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” you say brusquely, your words clipped. You take the empty bottle from the counter, your fingers curling around the neck and squeezing, hard. “You come in here, beaten-up, drink my alcohol and drip all over my floors - but I’m the last place you’d go. I get it.”

He rises to his feet, and you forgot how tall he is, how broad. And despite - ormaybe because of - the unfamiliarity of his helmetless appearance, Mando is still intimidating. You don’t shrink back, though; you square your shoulders and your jaw and lift your chin in challenge.

“You’re the last person I’d put in danger,” he says in a low voice, a voice that stirs a strange sensation in the pit of your guts that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

“You forget what I do for a living?” you manage, your mouth suddenly dry. You swallow past it, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol and your own misplaced nervousness.

“I’ve been hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other,” he continues in that same husky baritone that makes your knuckles go white. “I wasn’t going to bring that down on you.”

“I appreciate that,” you manage, diplomatically - but he’s not having it, staring you down like his life depends on keeping eye contact. “But I’m a big girl. I can handle things myself.”

He looks you up and down - just once - but with such practiced ease that it makes you wonder how many times he’s done the same thing from beneath the visor. You shiver despite yourself.

“I know,” he says, and then before you can move or react or think, he lunges into your space and kisses you.

If you were shocked by Mando’s sudden appearance, you’re fucking floored by this. You don’t know how to react at first but he proves quickly to be competent enough at this to coax your lips apart with his and get you to kiss him back.

He tastes like a distant hint of blood and smoke and his body is solid as his arm snakes round your waist without you noticing and he pulls you to him. He holds you so that you’ll have to twist away to escape and with the confidence that says he knows you won’t want to. 

And you don’t.

Instead you let the bottle fall and it clatters forgotten to the ground as you grab him by the pauldrons and let him lick into your mouth with the answering surge of your tongue and your hips pressing to his.

Mando kisses you like he needs to, and you realize that he’s half-hard already, impatiently nudging a knee between your thighs and pressing you to the wall. You break from his mouth to breathe and wonder if he’s ever had anything but this - a wild, fervid fumble of hurriedly-parted clothes and tangled limbs.

You don’t want to be this for him - a receptacle for his despair, his rage. You have too much of your own to deal with. But you can’t deny that you’ve thought about this, imagined something similar to this very scenario - but you never counted on the weight of emotion that comes with it.

“Stop, Mando,” you say as he sucks bruises into your neck, the edges of his teeth making your breath catch on nothing. He goes still, but his hands are tight on your hips, holding you to him. You can feel his breath, heavy and warm in your ear.

“Not like this,” you tell him. “You can stay, but we’re not doing this. Not like this.”

At first you think he’s not going to let you go, and the thrill that passes through you from the thought is unconscionable. But then his grip loosens and his leg withdraws and he steps back, out of your space. You rub your face with hands you can’t admit are shaking before finally looking up at him.

He looks wrecked. Broken. Staring at the ground, damp hair hanging over his forehead, and you catch the trembling twitch of his bottom lip even as he ducks his head to try to hide it.

“You can take my bunk,” you tell him. “We’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

For a second you think he’s going to argue, or just...walk out. Relief blooms in you as he nods. He turns without a word to retrieve his helmet before he retreats down the hall.

You watch him go, and the slump to his shoulders breaks your heart. But he’s staying, and that’s something.

You never thought you’d have a broken Mandalorian sleeping in your bunk. 

And you’re not sure if you regret the fact that you’re not there next to him.

[this-is-such-a-bad-decision]

Alright, finally got caught up to episode 83 of Hello from the Hallowoods, finished wailing in agony, and now it’s time for theorizing. Spoilers up to episode 83, also this is going to be a very hopeful post about how everything is going to be okay, so if you’d rather keep rolling in your sad feelings (valid) feel free to skip.

Anyways, everything looks really bad right now, but I don’t think HFTH is the kind of show that would stay this sad, so I was trying to think of a non-deus ex machina way for everything (or most things) to get fixed. And of course, Mx. Wellman is a very good writer and has laid plenty of groundwork ahead of time for a victory to make sense.

Resources available to our heroes:

Ray- Yes, Ray got blown up. Yes, he’s fine. Paper beats rock and Olivier beats BotCo drone, so if he can get up from a lightning blast I’m sure he can get up from this. While Ray himself is not capable of breaking into a dreaming box, he did just make it to the doorstep of a powerful ally he thought would be able to cure Moth, and he is very good at quickly transporting allies where they need to be.

Brooklyn and the Stonemaids- I had very little interest in Brooklyn at first, but boy has she grown on me. The Stonemaids will definitely care about the Maidstones being captured again, and with Brooklyn amongst their ranks they’ll have additional intel on how BotCo operates. (Now, Lady Ethel Mallory knows that Brooklyn is with the Stonemaids and clearly has her own plans for manipulating the rebel organization, so she probably has some decent counters to whatever they try to do, but their support is not nothing.)

Diggory- Diggory doesn’t have a heart. Diggory is made of stuffing. I’m willing to believe that a silver stake to the chest can stun Diggory for a time, but unless Diggory gets completely shredded (again) I’m pretty sure they’ll start moving once the stake gets taken out. Leaving them once again to act as chariot to:

Danielle- the most valuable piece on the board. Danielle might be vulnerable within the real world, but in the world of dreams she is a god. Danielle can use her dream powers to coordinate with the Stonemaids and other allies, to scout within the dreaming boxes, and to sabotage BotCo resources. (Assuming that new barriers haven’t been erected.) And finally:

Nikignik

Now, I’m less confident in this part of the theory, but it would be a lot of fun and is possible with the use of Danielle’s powers. Nikignik has previously expressed that he doesn’t want to interfere with the story because people always act differently when they know they’re being watched, but now he has expressed that this isn’t the story he wanted to tell. After everything that’s happened, Danielle might go to him for help, and Nikignik might be distraught enough to go against the Prime Directive and lend a hand. And while Nikignik can’t affect change in the dreams the way Danielle can, he knows a lot more than her and can use his knowledge to help coordinate the aforementioned resources and gather information Danielle might not have even thought to look for.

Anyway, I don’t know HOW all of these pieces are going to come together, but I’m sure it will be awesome, and I look forward to everyone being fine again. Thank you William Wellman for writing such an amazing show, and happy belated birthday. ^_^

P.S. Hector is Fine. Yes, he’s dead, but so is half the cast. He’ll probably be resurrected as a tree person and live with Jonah forever in the Garden of the End. (Look at the cover art for episode 81; there’s a person missing their left leg and left arm–the limbs that Hector lost–with vines starting to grow out of them. Also, the Tower means Change.)

P.P.S. Polly is also Fine, Yaretzi is coming for her boys. RIP Barb, your sacrifice will be remembered. (Unless he also finds a way to transcend death, in which case welcome to the found family, Ghost Barb.)

P.P.P.S. I don’t know if Violet and Bern are fine, that one is still up in the air.