#beefy die tag

[scarycranegame]

hey guys look at my plethora of proship memes i found on pinterest (ft. my horrible horrible art i did while sleep deprived)

also the firey in the third one is in fact firey jr; i have some silly headcanons about him (also rest in rip he didnt get to join tpo.t; fly high king)

[cottageleaves]

POOFBALL FROM BEEFYDIE IN MY OTHER STYLE UWU

[akiothescavenger]

Beefy Die Beefy Die Beefy Die @floor-banana @floor-banana @floor-banana Suffer.

[mangomagicagirl]

beefydie

[itznotcamiyt]

My remade Liy Asset!

Yes, you may use this if you want but if you are, please credit me! :]

REBLOGS > LIKES

[doawk]

they're cosplaying as eachothers creepypastas

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

-

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

-

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

-

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

-

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

-

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 3 - The Cabin

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, violence towards children, nightmares

Chapter 3 - The Cabin

By the time you descended the ladder, Joel had everything set up. A clean, if dusty and threadbare, blanket was spread before the fireplace. He’d managed to get the fire going, and while it hadn’t reached a roar, it was plenty hot enough to heat some cans for dinner.

“What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, gesturing between two cans with a pilfered can opener. “I’ve got alphabet soup or beefy ravioli.”

“Ravioli, please,” you said decisively, taking a seat beside him on the blanket. It took a second of him staring at you expectantly for you to realize he was holding out your selection. You took it and dug in.

“Holy shit,” you nearly moaned, the zing of 20-year-old marinara a delight to tired taste buds.

“That good, huh?” Joel asked. 

You nodded–yeah, it was really that good.

“Maybe Ellie’s onto something,” he chuckled, digging into his own dinner. You cocked an eyebrow. He elaborated, “She’s big on Chef Boyardee, too. Who knew he’d have so many fans in the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Fungal pandemics come and go, but pasta is forever.”

He laughed mid-chew, snorting so effusively a J-shaped piece of pasta landed at your feet.

“Huh,” you said. “J for Joel.”

You ate the rest of your food in relative silence, the levity of the first few bites subsiding once you realized how hungry you truly were.

A few minutes later, you set your empty can on the hearth with a clatter. “I’m gonna turn in.”

Joel nodded. “I’ll take first watch. Good night, Doe.”

“Night, Joel.”

Upon further inspection, the puke-covered couch appeared to convert into a mostly unscathed bed. It felt almost wrong to tuck yourself beneath such cozy bedding in your filthy patrol clothes. Especially since you had to be ready to spring into action at any moment, which meant your shoes stayed on too. But it’s not like there were other options. You lay your head atop the impossibly fluffy pillow, and let your eyes fall shut. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

* * *

You only ever saw Steffy in your dreams anymore. Your baby sister had been there for the collapse of the Salt Lake City QZ, escaping alongside you. But somewhere between fleeing and finding yourself at the gates of Jackson, you’d lost her. You’re not sure what happened exactly, but the dread in the pit of your stomach left no room for wondering: Steffy was dead.

She was alive right now, though. You were little again, sitting on the terracotta tiles of your Aunt Suzie’s back porch. It was summer, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the magnolia tree above you.

While the adults grilled, you and Steffy had a tea party. All the best dolls were invited, teddy bears too. Even Steffy’s favorite, a bedraggled rat plushie named Ratty.

“Ratty wants Earl Grey,” Steffy said, holding out a tiny teacup and saucer.

“Why, of course,” you replied in a bad British accent, pretending to pour him a cup.

Steffy made Ratty drink the whole cup in one gulp. “Dee-licious.”

You giggled. She giggled. It was contagious, the two of you devolving into downright guffaws when you noticed the adults’ chatter had stopped. Looking over your sister’s shoulder, your face fell.

“What’s wrong?” Steffy asked with a tilt of her head.

You wanted to tell her to run. You wanted to tell her to get behind you, that something was wrong. But you were frozen. 

That’s when the clicker sunk its teeth into her neck.

You woke with a start, flailing wildly, arm connecting with something hard, something that let out an ‘oof’ in response. Joel. You had hit Joel. Based on the proximity, you guessed he was trying to wake you.

“Sorry,” you panted, heart still racing from your dream. “Time for my watch?”

“No,” you could barely make out the shake of his head against what was left of the dying firelight. “It’s only been a couple hours. You were flailin’ about, looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh,” you said. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

“If you’re sure,” he said. “I’m here, y’know. If you want to… talk about it, or anything.”

You were still shaky. Your heart was still going so fast. But you weren’t about to discuss your dead sister with Joel Miller.

“I’m fine.” You doubled down, softer than you meant to.

“Okay,” he backed off, returning to his spot leaned up against the fireplace, eyes on the door.

Minutes passed, and your heart was still racing. Your hand throbbed, and you wondered how hard you’d hit Joel. Hopefully not hard enough to leave a mark.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” you said softly through the darkness.

“It’s fine, Doe. You were dreaming.”

You hated the way he brushed away your concerns, the way he gave you grace. In your experience, people rarely let others off the hook, not really. There was always some resentment that lingered.

If you were going to owe him, you might as well really owe him.

“Joel?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about that.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself to ask for what you wanted. “Will you cuddle with me? It’s not you, it’s just…I need another person. We’re safe here, we don’t need a watch, not really. And I need you.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t personal.”

“It’s not,” you bristled. “But I thought it would be nice.”

“Never said it wouldn’t be, sweetheart.”

You lay there expectantly for what felt like ages. Then, finally, you heard the squeak of old floorboards under his boots, and felt the squish of the mattress as he climbed onto it beside you. You found a position easily, one arm beneath your head, his other loosely draped across your waist.

Your heart slowed marginally, but your breathing remained fast and light.

“Relax, sweetheart. You gotta breathe.”

“I can’t–” you started. He cut you off with a hand to your stomach.

“You can.” He pulled you back against him gently, not so tight you were crushed, but just enough for you to feel the expanding and contracting of his own breath against your back. “Breathe with me, alright?”

You nodded with a shuddering breath. He tapped your stomach lightly with his thumb. You matched his inhale, breathing deeply and resenting the fact that this shit works every goddamn time. Within a few minutes, you were calm. Or as calm as you were going to get, anyway.

“I get them too, you know,” Joel admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were still pulled close against him, neither of you having made a move to scramble apart once your breathing returned to normal. At his admission, you relaxed into him fully, taking his free hand in yours.

Before you knew it, you were asleep once more, dreamless and deep, held safe and secure in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.

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[wlw-webcomic-bracket]

IT'S THE WLW WEBCOMIC COUPLES BRACKET!

Do you love wlw? Do you love webcomics? Do you have a favorite wlw couple from a webcomic that you think everyone should know about? If so, this bracket is for you!

Bracket rules:

This bracket is for canon wlw couples featured in webcomics. I'll also accept characters who aren't a couple yet but are clearly heading in that direction.

Please do NOT submit non-canon couples based only on vibes or headcanons. Sorry - that's not what this bracket is about.

Also, fictional characters only!

Trans women absolutely belong in this bracket and TERFs can die mad about it.

Nonbinary and genderfluid characters are also potentially eligible. Ask yourself: would this character be comfortable describing their own relationship as wlw?

Poly relationships count too!

Nominate as many couples as you want! Just don't spam me with repeated nominations for the same couple.

Propaganda is encouraged at every stage of this bracket, starting right now!

This is a FUN POLL that I am DOING FOR FUN. Let's keep it that way for everybody. Rudeness or harassment will earn you a block.

SUBMIT COUPLES THROUGH THIS GOOGLE FORM!

I'll be keeping submissions open through Sunday, April 30, potentially longer if I need more entries.

Inspirations, tag directory, and other fun stuff under the cut!

This bracket was inspired by @yuribait-battle @dumbass-duels @ultimatemessywomantournament @lovableassholestournament @queerprotagonistshowdown @let-them-say-fuck-tournament @transgenderautisticbracket @gaywebcomicsshowdown @theyrebasicallycanonpoll @handsome-girl-competition @beefy-babe-showdown @badasswlwbracket @bluehairandpronouns-tournament @amputeeblondiebattle and, for being my original entry point to the world of Tumblr polls, @thelockedtombsexywoman

Recurring tags:

#not polls: anything that isn’t a competitive poll or an important announcement

#propaganda: asks and reblogs promoting a couple/ship

#asks answered: all asks, any topic

#comic readings: when I’m talking about comics I’m reading because you have successfully propagandized them to me

#other tournaments: anyone else’s tournaments I want to promote

My pronouns are she/they/whatever. You cannot misgender me in a way that matters.

Profile picture is Noa and Rina from Us Right Now. Banner image (left to right) is Kyra and Sonya from Kochab, Becky and Dina from Dumbing of Age, and Aya and Mitsuki from The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy At All.

I'm not including anyone as an automatic entry, so if you like them, don't count on me to make sure they're included - submit them yourself!

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 12th 2023

"Forbidden": Fried Eggs and Bacon

(Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush, Dry Gouache Brush, Gouache Blender, and some Pencil Brush details. Labor of love, however many colors, 2 hours.)

If you guess the source before you see the speedpaint, then I did it correctly. ;D

@lady-quen's breadbugs will have to wait for the fire to die down before they can snatch an eggy or two. And tagging @quezify, the, ahem, Wizard of Fried Eggs.

(This time I am not forgetting the speedpaint! Look at all those beginning details that end up hidden. XD

In other news, fire is hard to draw. I will have to do a study of it. Last time I drew fire it was for the background of my current icon and I used a method that would not work for this piece.

The reflection in the pan was hard too, the fan art I was referencing did is so perfectly. I'll have to study it further to properly do it justice.

I was going to use the grid method to make a more perfect study, but honestly it would have taken way longer and put way too much stress on it for me, I think, trying to get it perfect. Especially trying to put eyes on Calcifer. So it's all freehand and all eyeballed so you can see the pan is a little wonky. Also I couldn't find a good reference for the log-holder/grating in the hearth and I wasn't gonna pull out my DVD and get sidetracked for an hour for that one detail. So yeah, that part is just... being cleaned by Sophie. Or Howl disappeared it from the frame.

Anyway, 10/10, Ghibli really knows how to make food look ethereal and perfect and otherworldly and I hope I captured that with the unrealistically red bacon because yeah, I want to eat it even more when it's bright red for some reason... I was going to try to fit in a slice of bread and bowl of tea (That IS tea, right?) but didn't have a good place composition-wise to put it.

I wanted to do this piece last year but I decided that I would save it for a potential "film only" eggs ensemble, but couldn't resist this year. The pull was too strong. Besides, if I do more eggs from movies and TV, then I can always make a collection of them later.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys! And this time I made SURE not to forget the speedpaint! The file is too beefy for me to share on discord with friends, so I'm happy Tumblr can accept my hefty chunky speedpaint file!

[lahooozaherr]

I Will Always Find You

Chapter 6

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence (but not descriptive), anxiety, reader is lifted once because of Rising Phoenix, angst, yearning, as always please feel welcome to let me know if I missed anything 🫶🏻

MY WORKS ARE 18+ AND NOT FOR MINORS. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My Tag List (instructions & requirements)

Chapter Summary: Din locates and rescues from your captors, just in time. With the two of you finally reunited, you quickly return to the Razorcrest where Din sets coordinates for the safe location provided by your father. You feel a wild mix of emotions over it all, from relief to fatigue. When it seems you’re about to tell him something very important, you make it to the planet of your childhood friend.

A/N: I’m back!! Kinda?? I’ve been here but I haven’t been in the headspace to write this. I’ve been processing a lot of grief. I know I shouldn’t apologize or beat myself up for taking so long so I just appreciate anyone who’s still interested in my little self indulgent story. There were times I tried to work on it but then I’d remember plot holes or things I haven’t quite figured out yet, so please bear with me. This chapter isn’t TOO exciting, mainly because this next one is going to be beefy, the one I’ve been really really working up to. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Song Inspo: Hero by Alan Walker & Sasha Alex Sloan

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Present Day

Some time had passed since you were blindfolded and binders were applied to your wrists. The anxiety made sleep elusive as you’d bounce between conscious and not.

Until the noises began.

You sat up abruptly, heart hammering in your chest as you listened to sounds of clashes, blaster fire and yelling from the men who had taken you. With no ability to act, or even see, you resort to bringing your legs up to your chest and balling yourself up in anticipation.

You wondered what could possibly be happening. Were you being saved? Was there a conflict amongst the men?

The commotion begins to die out, ending with the sound of one last shot from a blaster. You can now only hear the beat of your heart and your body begins to tremble. The environment grows eerily silent.

You gasp when you start to hear the door unlock and move open. Not knowing what to expect at this point had only added to the fear you felt flood through you. In a feeble attempt, you duck your head into your knees, holding yourself as close as you can with your bound arms.

You hear a voice speak your name, a voice you’ve become very familiar with. One that has haunted your memories.

The trembling in your body starts to cease as you raise your head to the voice, Din’s voice. Relief washes over you like a tidal wave.

The bed dips next to you as he removes the cloth from your eyes. You’re met with that same, emotionless visor you had come to yearn for. Words can’t describe the emotion beginning to seep out from you as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Din?” You finally manage to respond in whisper, a tremble from your bottom lip.

He removes the binders, a tool he’s very familiar with in his profession. He finds himself mentally cursing them for having to remove them from someone like you.

Before he can set them down, you’ve catapulted yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sob escapes your chest in relief, a feeling you’ve been deprived of for too long.

It catches him in surprise but doesn’t take long for him to settle into it, embracing you in return. His large, gloved hands cover your back. Relief at finding you meets him as well.

“Are you hurt?” His baritone voice rings in your ear, your rapid heartbeat skips as the fear melts into joy. When you pull back from his embrace to face him, you shake your head ‘no’. “Good.”

As the tears start to bubble over, you give him a weak smile, “you found me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to take your face in his hands, looking you in the eyes, “I will always find you.”

You lean into one of his palms, his touch feels so warm and safe.

“We have to get out of here,” he leans back to assess you, still in the simple outfit of leggings and long sleeve top you were taken in. But no shoes. They must have gotten rid of them.

“Alright, I’m going to carry you,” you nod in response, he stands from the bed and leans over to slip his arms under your back and legs. When he lifts you, it feels almost effortless from him. He’s really as strong as he looks.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, he quickly leaves the room and weaves through the halls of the building until he reaches an exit, bursting through to the outside by slamming his foot against the door.

He comes to a halt, adjusting his arm under you to reach his vambrace. You feel him press some of the controls on it.

“Alright, I need you to hold on tight, ok?”

You do as you’re told but raise an eyebrow at him, “alright bu-“

Before you can even finish your question, the Rising Phoenix on his back ignites and sends both of you into the sky. A yelp escapes you and you grip even tighter to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You can feel his hands press into you where he’s holding you, giving you a reassuring squeeze that his grip is firm and safe on you.

When the direction feels more steady, you pry yourself from him to try and look down. Your curiosity gets the best of you although this height is….pretty scary. Underneath you is a forest, which is about as much as you can make out. You have no idea where they took you but you can see why, it seems lifeless and easy to hide out in.

Din comes to a landing in front of the Razer Crest, coming to a running stop. He shifts his hands under you to press onto his vambrace and the ramp starts to lower. When he brings you inside, he gently sets you down to sit next to some crates.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us out of here real quick.”

He leaves, climbing the ladder to the cockpit and disappears. Shortly after you feel the Razor Crest start up and lift. After some time and feeling the way he steers, you feel him kick it into hyperspace, and then silence.

You close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath after feeling like you had been holding it in this entire time. You press your back into the wall behind you and try to finally relax. Footsteps come down the ladder and towards you, you open your eyes to find Din crouched down in front of you.

You let the silence linger between the two of you for a few minutes, taking the time to process the chaos that just happened in such a short amount of time. You realize Din has truly earned his reputation for a reason.

“Take your time,” he reassures you. “Your father sent coordinates to a safe place. It should only be 12 hours, give or take.”

Your eyes widen as you remember your father. He must have been worried sick.

“Where is he? My father?”

Din takes a long minute to respond, “I’m not sure. The call he sent to Karga’s location didn’t specify where, just that he would be going into hiding.”

The information bounces around your head for a minute before you give a silent nod in acknowledgment.

“Do you know where he could be?” Din asks.

“I don’t. I’m embarrassed to say, but we hadn’t discussed this beforehand. I’d hope it’s wherever he’s sending us.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Din stands and offers you a hand and lifts you up. “In the meantime, you should rest.”

He opens an enclosed space where his bunk is, which is really just a simple tarp material stretched across to make a cot. But that doesn’t entirely matter to you right now. You feel safe and finally able to breathe. You welcome the ability to lay somewhere that isn’t that horrible place you’d been kept in. You take note of the small hammock that hangs at the top of it.

You crawl inside and turn back to him as you settle in. Din reaches behind his neck and detaches his cape, and hands it to you.

“It’s not much, I’m sorry. I don’t….really ever think to have something like blankets around here.”

You cover yourself in the thick material, it’s warm and softer than it looks save for the burnt holes towards the bottom, “don’t be sorry, this is perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me.”

He closes the bunk and you listen as you hear his boots step up the ladder and disappear once again.

You don’t really have time to miss him before fatigue really sets in as you lay down. You wrap his cape around you, cocooning yourself inside of it. The part that attaches to his neck smells like him and you can’t help but breathe it in. He smells like soap and blaster smoke, it’s oddly comforting.

—————————————————————————

You wake up suddenly, gasping for air and full of adrenaline. This isn’t your first time doing this, though. Ever since you’d been kidnapped, you had been suffering from nightmares. You don’t always remember what happens in them, but next thing you knew, you would be sitting upright from the bed trying to catch your breath.

You pull Din’s cape around your shoulders and grip tightly, holding yourself tightly in order to ground yourself. You remind yourself that you’re safe. You’re in Din’s….bunk. Bed?

After a moment of attempting to calm yourself, you’ve decided to give up on sleep for now. You find your way out of the enclosed bunk, making sure to secure his cape around you. The floor of the ship is cold on your feet. You take in your surroundings, observing the way he keeps his space. It seems it’s kept very neat and methodical, very him.

Ascending the ladder to the cockpit, the door slides open as you stand to enter. He’s in his seat, set in the middle. The only light comes from the streaks of stars and hyperspace across the overhead windows and it reflects off of his helmet.

He doesn’t immediately react to your presence in his space, you wonder if he’s asleep. You opt to sit in a passenger chair to the right of him, noticing his arms crossed and his body slightly leaned back.

“How did you sleep?” His low voice rings through the modulator, almost startling you. He swivels his captain’s chair to face you. You hold yourself tighter, keeping his cape stretched across.

“Uh, yeah, sorta. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

You look up above to watch through the windows, “I kind of wish I had come up here. This is soothing.”

Din’s helmet tilts up to look as well, “it is. I almost prefer to sleep up here. Sometimes.”

Something in the air makes you feel like something isn’t being said. It’s hard to put your finger on it. You know there are many things you’d like to say to him, now that you feel more collected. But that same creeping fear from before seems to stop you. You don’t want to ruin this, or any moment with him.

“I need to ask you something, and it’s ok if you don’t want to answer right now. Or ever. I just-“ Din, of all people, is stumbling over his words. Something you’re not used to seeing him do at all. But the tension in the small space seems to thicken around the two of you. When he lowers his helm to face you, you aim to meet his eyes to give him a reassuring look to continue.

“Did they….do anything to you? Did they hurt you at all? Or…”

“Oh…Oh! No. Sort of?” Butterflies swirl in your stomach while you struggle to find words. “Not exactly, I think they were specifically told to not harm me. At least physically. That’s the impression I got.”

You hear the leather of Din’s glove start to rub against his arm rests, “physically?”

“Right. They didn’t hurt me like that. But I’d say it’s pretty psychologically harmful to lock someone up in a room for a week after kidnapping them.”

You hear the creak of his gloves and you watch as one of his hands fists into a ball while the other rubs against the side of the arm rest.

“I should have insisted on staying, to escort you back home,” he asserts in a low, bordering dangerous tone.

Without thought, you reach out a hand to close over his fisted one, “no, don’t do that to yourself.” His tight shoulders seem to visibly loosen up as you do so.

“Please don’t. I just-“ your voice starts to crack. Your eyes turn glassy and you turn your head, breaking the eye contact you felt you had with him.

Din takes no time reading your body language and he moves to kneel on one knee in front of you, resting both hands on your lap. Tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes and threaten to spill.

“What is it? Please tell me,” Din tries to console you, it’s almost jarring how quickly he can switch from being dangerous to soothing. His large hands engulf yours in both of his, feeling warm and secure.

You didn’t intend to go quiet, it’s just that your emotions threaten to allow everything within you to spill out. Something you’ve inadvertently trained yourself to be afraid of. Every time your mouth begins to mouth what you want to say, you feel your heart squeeze and single tears come forward.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you finally mustered to say. “I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed?!”

“Yes. It’s ridiculous, I know. But before you’d found me, I had given up. I couldn’t fight. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” you pause when you feel one of his hands cup your cheek and redirect your gaze to his, or at least his visor. Your heart jumps into your throat, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb begins to stroke where it lays on your cheek. Before you can debate on what more to say, a beeping comes over the intercom of the ship.

The ship exits hyperspace and comes to a standstill. Din, with a gentle last caress of your face, quickly moves back to position in his seat. The beeping comeson again as he grabs a hold of the controls and a voice comes over the intercom.

“Razorcrest, you have permission to land.”

Confusion etches into your features as you watch him, his hand is paused above a button. One you think he was about to use to speak back. But now there was no need, whoever it is already knew who he was and definitely expecting him. He withdraws his hand and gets back to his steering controls, “buckle up.”

You do as you're told, fasten your seatbelt and sit back. You feel the ship begin to descend into a planet’s atmosphere. A familiar looking planet.

—————————————————————————

“Sir, she’s nowhere to be found.”

Large boots crunch through the broken glass and debris that’s scattered across the floor. Accompanied by the few bodies of henchmen. The boots belong to a tall, intimidating figure. A scarred and hardened looking Twi’lek, with a permanent scowl and scar across his mouth to match.

He turns to the man speaking to him, one of his many lackies, and growls, “what happened here?!”

“We have reason to believe the Mandalorian found her. All of this is his doing.”

The Twi’lek glowers at him before hitting his fist against the wall. He doesn’t speak, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his next words. His next move.

His demeanor slowly shifts to something more calm and collected as he seems to gather his thoughts. A twisted smirk revealing sharpened teeth emerges.

“We’re heading out. It’s time to send a message.”

@dindjarinsmut @impala1967666 @kittenlittle24 @angel-with-a-heart @leithatnight @i-usually-main-bards-tho @dins-riduur-anthe @fatima-marisa @lalalalemonade11 @n7cje @orcasoul

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

[scarycranegame]

Honestly, I've read your response and had to agree on everything you wrote there - to be honest I feel like Beefy Die fans often forget about those particular scenes in the show, for example G.B having PTSD, F.our abusing .X. in early BFB (Pre-Split) or the whole fuckfest that was B.FDIA 5 (especially 5.b), or I.D.F.B, or whatever.

Funny enough, other Ob.ject s.hows have the same problem as well, especially H.FJONE and I.I. H.FJONE, because a lot of people just decide to ship L.iam and B.ryce, even in spite of everything, woobifying them.

The comment about F.irey Jr., R.ocky and G.rassy is just true, they're not minors for me, they're adults for me, A FUCKING GROW UPS!

About blocking antis who follow me... I'm conflicted, because I'm friends with lots of them and all, I just feel like... They could start literally harrassing me, if I revealed who I am truly.

And also I noticed hipocrisy there with Beefy Die and Animate Sanity (I.I) fans - they LOVE consuming gore, making object bleed, shipping them, but when it comes to more dark themes (ex. sexual abuse, rape, mental instability) they start to hate on any works having those shit in them

~🍩💜

yeah no i know other shows have this issue too; the whole o.sc has this issue.. and yeah a lot of people misrepresent s.odap.ack as this "omg so wholesome!!" ship when like. no. liam and bryce have a trauma bond. if they were to get together their relationship would revolve around that, not any kind of healthy dynamic like most people portray in fics/art/etc

also i love the idea of rocky, firey jr, and grassy being adults.. personally i headcanon that they're older than most of the cast, and firey jr is firey's weird older brother LMAO

and lastly i hate to break it to you but if your anti "friends" would turn on a dime and harass you for being who you really are, they aren't your friends. i know it's difficult to come to terms with, especially if you've known them for a long time, but i promise you'll be much happier being friends with people who like you for who you are as opposed to people who like you for who they want you to be (also they can't harass you if you block them on everything; as long as you don't start arguing with them you'll most likely be fine)

[marvelrarepairbingo]

Marvel Rare Pair Bingo Summer Round Up Pt. 2

Hey everyone! It's summer time and the season's just heating up and so are we with these great submissions that have come our way in this Part Two (from the posts on Tumblr) round up for our 3rd round bingo. Things are getting close to winding up as we head into a 4th round near the end of the summer, so stay tuned for more from us about that in the future. For now, however, enjoy these hot new works under the cut from our participants. They promise to a scorcher in the summer sun!

Wolfsheart

Too weird to live, too rare to die Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Relationships: Justin Hammer & Loki, Justin Hammer/Loki Additional Tags: Domestic Avengers, Avengers Family, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Not Canon Compliant, Everybody Lives, Living Together, Enemies to Friends, rivals to friends, Baking, Getting to Know Each Other, Banter, Fluff, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Family Fluff, Team as Family, Family Feels, Bonding, Family Bonding, Team Bonding, Second Chances, Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas references, Mentions of Morgan Stark - Freeform, Mentions of Timmy Hammer (Justin's nephew), moodboard, Tony Stark's Cars, Tony Stark loves his cars and doesn't want to share them, Mission Fic, mission, Road Trips, Developing Friendships, Talking, Sparks of interest, Teasing, Flirting, There Was Only One Bed, How Justin Got His Groove Back, Pet Names, Loki's magic (Marvel), Team Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Blood, Blood and Violence, Not Taylor Swift Friendly, Not Travis Kelce Friendly, hostages, X-Men Cameos Language: English Published: 2024-06-28 Words: 34,750 Chapters: 7/7 For the @marvelrarepairbingo's Moodboard Madness, prompts: 7. Road Trip and will likely fall under 3. Mission Gone Wrong and more than likely (in fic) 8. There was only one bed.

Marvel Heroes & Villains & Those a little In Between Presents Title: Marvel Heroes & Villains & Those a Little In Between Presents: Pride Drag Moodboard Prompt: 3. Drag Shows Pairing: No Pairing. Summary: Pride Drag, raising money for May Parker's Home for Displaced Queer Youth, pulling in various heroes, villains, and those considered a little in between to perform.

MuffinEngineer86

Code Margarita & Rainbows Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi Relationships: Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis, Yelena Belova & Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: alternative universe, No-Power AU, accidentally married, Unknowingly Married, Drinking, Pride event, funny pride shirts, fairy wings, Flower Crowns, Beefy Bucky, Skinny Steve, Language Language: English Published: 2024-06-23 Words: 3,358 Chapters: 2/? Summary: Darcy was on her way to her first pride event. She was a little hesitant, but two nice strangers offered to show her around. An offer Darcy gladly took.

Stormxpadme

Rainbow blasts For the Pride Month Prompts of Marvel Rare Pair Bingo @marvelrarepairbingo, I made an entry for the Mood Board Madness section. title: Rainbow blasts prompts: Poly ship, Dykes on Bikes characters/ship: Hawkye/Black Widow/Storm/Synch medium: movieverse (Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence) story: Natasha and Ororo are absolutely adamant about leaving the male members of their polycule aka their moping boyfriends at home for Mutant and Superhero Pride this year and rather join the Dykes on Bikes parade section. When the event is threatened by a bunch of radical bigot terrorists sending dozens of suicide bombers to literally blow up everyone's fun though, Everett and Clint need to overcome their aversion against mass events and join the girls to save the day. After Ororo's lightning and Clint's trick arrows have made an inevitable mess of the rainbow decoration while taking out the enemies one by one, Synch lights up the street with his powers for a few hours of celebration instead, before the four of them leave for the nearest motel room for celebrating yet another victory.

Mikeyp16

Bruises and Bullet Wounds After chillaxing for a bit I finally have time to draw for funsies! I’ve started a few bingo fills but yet to finish most, the curse of the WIP 😔 This wasn’t originally going to be a comic hense why the first one is the only one fairly finished, but this little scenario kept playing in my head while drawing so I ran with it Steve here doesn’t know Logan’s a mutant, not yet at least

CaptainJimothyCarter

Weight Of The World On His Shoulders Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Relationships: Clint Barton & Kate Bishop, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton Additional Tags: Whump, Clint Barton Whump, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Accidental Killing, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Archery, Hurt Clint Barton, Clint Barton Feels, Skeletons In The Closet, Circus Performer Clint Barton Language: English Published: 2024-05-03 Words: 1,157 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Kate asks Clint a question he can't avoid and he relives one of the worst moments of his life.

Xenomorphic-Warrior

Moodboard Madness Marvel Rare Pair Bingo [Round 3] - Square B1 Celebrity AU [feat. Veterinarian AU] + Peter Quill/Thor

Howling in the Dark MRPB’s Mood Board Madness: Historical AU (1940s/World War II) + Bucky Barnes/John Walker, light/pre Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff/Sam Wilson Howling in the Dark: A secret history of the Howling Commandos

Fear Street 2005 MRPB's Mood Board Madness Round 2: Horror Movie + Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanoff (ver. 2) Fear Street: 2005 - Things have been going oddly great for the sleepy town of Shadyside in the last decade, ever since a string of murders exposed the Sheriff's dark side, and their golden neighbors over at Sunnyvale lost their good luck and their shiny reputations while at it. But best friends Wanda and Nat are starting to see that the peace and prosperity will not last for much longer as people begin going missing and strange happenings become their new normal.

Annie

For Brock's Sake Fandom: Marvel, Captain America. Ship: Sinthea Schmidt & Jack Rollins, Sinthea Schmidt X Brock Rumlow. Word count: 100 words. Square: N3 “Free.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Is Brock’s best friend vs Brock’s girlfriend. Major Tags: Arguing.

Helping Fandom: Marvel, Cloak & Dagger. Ship: The divine pairing Word count: 100 words. Square: N2 “Helping a stranger.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Another way that Ty and Tandy meet. Major Tags: Escaping.

Taking hands Fandom: Marvel, Captain America. Ship: Brock Rumlow X Sinthea Schmidt. Word count: 229 words. Square: 5 “Hand-holding.” Rating: Teen. Summary: A special moment between Sin and Brock. Major Tags: Fluff.

Run Fandom: Marvel, Captain America. Ship: Brock Rumlow X Sinthea Schmidt. Word count: 555 words. Square: N1 “A locked trunk.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Brock and Sin escaped from Steve. Major Tags: Locked trunk, mission, mention of Dark Dimension.

Violent Fandom: Marvel, The gifted. Ship: Marcos Díaz & Carmen Guerra. Word count: 100 words. Square: I5 “Angry mob.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Carmen asked Marcos for help. Major Tags: Purifiers.

Stranded Fandom: Marvel, Captain America. Ship: Steve Rogers & Janet van Dyne. Word count: 549 words. Square: I4 “Stranded in a blizzard.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Is Steve and Janet vs Snowstorm. Major Tags: Snowstorm.

Kites Fandom: Marvel, Fantastic Four. Ship: Sue Storm & Johnny Storm. Word count: 241 words. Square: 4 “Kite flying.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Sue wanna fly some kites with his brother like when they were children. Major Tags: Fluff.

Saving her Fandom: Marvel, Runaways. Ship: Gert Yorkes X Chase Stein Word count: 100 words. Square: I3 “Stalker.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Chase saves Gert. Major Tags: Time travel, different timelines.

Image Fandom: Marvel, Captain America, Avengers. Ship: Steve Rogers & Clint Barton Word count: 501 words. Square: I2 “Picture of Steve.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Steve’s plan gone wrong. Major Tags: Clint saved the day.

Change Fandom: Marvel, Captain America. Ship: Steve Rogers & Sinthea Schmidt. Word count: 200 words. Square: 3 “Taking photos.” Rating: Teen. Summary: Sin has an objective. Major Tags: Captain HYDRA.

TrashficParlour

Jetlagged Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Captain Marvel (2019), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies) Relationship: Carol Danvers/Peter Quill Characters: Carol Danvers, Peter Quill Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Short & Sweet, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Carol Danvers Language: English Published: 2024-05-27 Words: 320 Chapters: 1/1

[theworldsforgottenboy]

Oc smash or pass

This looked fun. Thought I’d do it. Nobody tagged me

Rules: include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

Hope Ironwood

(This is her after a rough fight, I’ll get better pics later)

Age: Around 89, she’s experienced but still has a long way to go

Height: 6’3

Species: wood elf

Class: life cleric

She/they

Sexuality: bisexual, with a lean towards women and twinks. Leathal weakness for platinum blondes

Pros

Big beefy butch, ruggedly handsome lady, can bench press you

Gentlest of doms, most service-y of tops

Consent queen! Asks you a million different times if you feel good, if this is ok, etc.

Values freedom above all else, will insist you make your own choices unless they endanger her or her friends

A grounding presence, will keep you from going off the deep end of your own volition.

A gruff cowboy type of flair, a vagabond wanderer’s charm.

An Easter and Christmas kind of cleric, bare minimum and will not shove her religious agenda down your throat

Got sort of a McCoy frontier doctor thing going on with her healing. She has said “damnit (insert companion), I’m a cleric, not an navigator” at least 3 times

Dry wit

Has a dad with a dog attitude towards her people, she didn’t want them but they grew on her quick and now she’d die for them while still insisting that she’s still a loner

Makes her own clothes, super good at a unique embroidery style, knows what kind of colors work best for your skin tone, is the person you’d want for a dress up montage cause you will come out stunning

Would rock the hell out of a doublet if the game didn’t change it to a feminine version when she puts it on

Throat goat (her blood tastes great! Nobody tell her what that actually means. She’s decent at that too, though)

Exact opposite of power hungry.

Good at tactics

Has managed to create a spiritual vibrator

Doesn’t shave (which imo is a pro)

Cons

Commitment issues!

Views intimate relationships as a prison (at least at the start of the story) and is terrified of falling in love as she thinks it will constrict her freedom and chain her down to an unsatisfying life like what happened to her parents. It is possible to enter a relationship with her, but you’d have to roll a 30 on persuasion

Even then, if you make too many decisions for her or push her to settle down, she’ll straight up walk out on you in the middle of the night

Almost always tops, doesn’t like being outright submissive and reacts negatively to domination.

Lack of long term sexual relationships means that she hasn’t fully explored the depths of her own desires

Almost never initiates sex, you have to ask first and for people with anxiety that’s a big ask

A pack rat, despite her nomadic lifestyle. Insists that one day she’ll need this specific rock so she’ll keep it (she’s got the strength to shoulder it but still)

Horrible at navigating

Does NOT like when people are taller than her.

Terrified of cats, if that’s a turn off for you

[dathen]

19th Cent Meow Meow Bracket: Round 2!

And we’re on to the next round!!  The results were full of surprises, with some unforeseen favorites and close calls.  

As promised, my favorite tags on each bracket (winners bolded):

Jack Seward vs. The Creature

Body type diversity amongst meow meows!  Don’t worry, Jack, crumpling like wet paper just raises your meow meow points in the future.

Penclosa vs. Jekyll

The rallying cry of Meow Meow Lovers everywhere!  Rattle that pringles can away, my friend!

Inspector Lestrade vs. Inspector Fix

Lestrade may have won by a large margin, but voters of all sides acknowledge that both Inspectors were excessively pathetic.

Captain Nemo vs. Erik

THE SPIRIT OF THE BATTLE SUMMARIZED!  Remember these words, all, when you choose your next votes!

Basil Hallward vs. Griffin

One cannot truly understand how soggy and pathetic a character can get until one reads The Invisible Man.  But voters went with “did nothing wrong ever” over “pathetic and soggy atrocities” today--will the cinnamon roll too good for this world continue this winning streak?

THE BEETLE!! vs. Victor Frankenstein

The loyalty!! Don’t worry, friend, one day Theb will trample a girlboss poll.

Captain Ahab vs. Edward Hyde

Whale Facts = Good for meow meow points!  I confess we considered the Whale Facts King Ishmael for this poll due to his cantankerous nature, but the consensus was that he was too low on atrocities.  

Renfield vs. Robert Holt

NO WAIT STOP MY BAD please don’t have Canonically Beefy Renfield engage in fisticuffs against our “will die if you breathe on him too hard” clerk!!

And now for some silly little stats because I love numbers:

Most Votes:  The Renfield vs. Robert Holt bracket, with 483!

Curious Bystander Award:  17% of voters in the Inspector vs. Inspector poll just wanted to observe the duel of the incompetents.

Strong Feelings:  All but 3% championed a meow meow in Jack vs. Creature! 

Narrowest win:  Frakenstein’s Creature won with the narrowest lead over Jack Seward, at 9%

Most Brutal Landslide:  Edward Hyde was as unrestrained as ever with his 61% lead over the perhaps-too-mysterious Miss Penclosa.

The next round of polls will be up shortly!

[eruden-writes]

The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 19 (Yautja x Human)

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (coming soon)

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Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn’t know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she’s not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'dqei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'dqei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'dqei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja’s natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

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CW: I don’t think there’s anything major.

Tag list: @ajarofpickledtears, @boogeysmoth

If you like what I create, please consider my patreon or my ko-fi!

Part 18 is already available on Patreon!

Comments, tags, and reblogs are real motivators for me, too!

☆ ☆ ☆

The time spent on Tai’dqei’s ship passed by with agonizing speed. Rayelle couldn’t help but wonder if there was yet another time anomaly happening, but she knew the truth. She was enjoying her last cycles with Tai’dqei. Now that the heightened hormones that caused such a burning need were under control, they weren’t struggling nearly as badly.

Though she still couldn’t help but tease and mildly flirt with him. Especially whenever he seemed to tense or act awkward. It was kind of cute, how this massive beefy killing machine could be undone by a suggestion word or innuendo. Of course, she did keep everything masked in two layers of obfuscation. 

She also supposed that her renewed sense of control helped the situation. Before the visit to the clinic, she had felt like she was being pulled along by the nose.

In the scant time they had together, Rayelle jam-packed it with as much as she could. They watched movies and conversed and played a few games. At one point, she had a sudden hankering for pancakes. Which Tai’dqei was able to humor with some basic supplies available onboard. Even though he ate and said he enjoyed them, Rayelle wasn’t entirely certain he was being sincere.

Just as she wasn’t certain about leaving him. 

Rayelle sat in a passenger row behind Tai’dqei, staring at the space station floating mid-screen. A little off center and behind the station, a blue and green planet hovered. Apparently, they couldn’t land directly on the resort planet. 

The sudden realization their time was up sent a nervous prickle through her body.

She had focused on the station in the holoscreen. It was a large spherical structure with an outer ring. Rayelle watched as a ship left the far right side as they approached. 

Tai’dqei didn’t seem confused about being restricted to the station, so Rayelle tried to convince herself it was alright. There wasn’t anything to worry about. She presumed the resort simply didn’t want humans - unused to space travel and ships criss-crossing the sky - to be continuously bombarded with unfamiliar sights, especially during such a stressful time.

This place was designed to be an oasis of familiarity, an effort to shield time-displaced humans from too much novelty, advanced technology, or non-human interaction.

It made sense, but she obviously wasn’t a usual case, considering she had spent plenty of time with a non-Terran species. Hopefully, Detective Gorgiel had relayed that information to the counselors on Rerli 3. Hopefully, they understood that Tai’dqei had been one of the only constants, and her protector, during her time-space jaunt.

The hopes smacked of wishful thinking. Realistically, or pessimistically, this was it.

The mounting agitation over her inevitable separation from Tai’dqei clung to the back of her thoughts. It was like a tick, burrowing deeper and deeper into her synapses.

Phantom tears burned the back of her eyes, but she took a deep breath, trying to alleviate the pressure. While the immense sadness burrowed in her, an irritation flared at herself. This was silly. She was being silly. In the grand scheme of everything, she barely knew Tai’dqei and was only clinging to him, because he’d become someone familiar. 

But they were going to easily move on with their lives, once they parted ways.

Rayelle jolted as the metallic sound of something clamping, of gears whirring, of hydraulics hissing echoed around the ship. Tai’dqei stood, drawing her eye to him and his pilot’s chair. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as he stretched his arms over his head, his full armor glinting in the lights. Even though this was heavier armor than his usual, his skin peeked out between the plates and pieces. 

Rayelle’s fingers itched to touch him, to feel the thick leathery skin under her fingertips. Time was running out to solidify the sensation in her head. Then her attention flicked to the chair, faint memories tickling her thoughts. His hands on her. His fingers inside her. The growling, clicking vibrations that sunk to her bone marrow.

Good luck forgetting any of that, she told herself. 

Abruptly, she unbuckled and stood before her imagination could marinate in the recollections. 

Tai’dqei watched as Rayelle fled the bridge, his mandibles barely flickering. He was trying to rely on auto-pilot to get him through these final moments. It was becoming increasingly hard, though. As it had over the last cycles with her, the desire to touch Rayelle crept over his hands. Now, his skin burned with the need to touch her. A hug, a brush of his fingers over her cheek, any physical touch to memorialize. 

He refused himself the nicety. The fewer sweet memories he could dwell on, the less it would hurt. Or so he hoped. 

They moved to the mess - which was really a lounge, she thought, since it had a couch and screen - as a counselor from Rerli 3 boarded. Introductions flew around, the counselor’s tone one of tooth-aching sweetness.

Jezika Alpha appeared human, with neon blue hair cut in a bob and wide brown eyes. Her bright blue lipstick accentuated her unwavering smile. There was something about her that seemed off to Rayelle. Too smooth skin with little to no aberrations. Eyes that didn’t blink quite enough. A stiffness to her movements that seemed awkward.

Or maybe Rayelle just wanted something to be off with Jezika Alpha. Looking for any reason not to leave the comfort of her known companion for an unknown.

“You will love it at Rerli 3's resort, Miss Brooks!” Jezika chirped, rocking on her heels, her hands moving as she spoke. A sudden flash of memory, of old animatronics at eateries and amusement parks, tumbled through Rayelle’s thoughts. “We have everything you could ever need.”

Rayelle knew almost all of the amenities, having perused the pamphlet during moments when Tai’dqei had been busy with piloting or training. Honestly, she didn’t doubt Jezika’s claims. The enormous resort had different areas, separated by decade. Each wing had their own community kitchen, equipped with appliances and available foods of the time; a library with books from their era and an area to do crafts; pool and gymnasium, again with equipment from the time; and other period-appropriate entertainments. 

For Rayelle, 2020s entertainments were a theater-style area to watch movies or having ‘streaming services’ in her personal room. Also, access to a computer that somehow accessed her era’s Internet, though she couldn’t post, share, or comment on anything. Just scroll and play some ‘ancient’ games.

Though, Rayelle still had a question. She motioned to Tai’dqei, who resided on the far side of the room from her. “Can Tai’dqei come down with me, until I get settled?” 

Tai’dqei stood stiff and straight, ignoring how something in his chest jumped as Rayelle asked a question he’d been struggling over breaching. He had chosen to wear his full armor today, just in case they had allowed him on-planet. The helmet obscured his face and the armor mostly obscured his form, which meant those humans not familiar with his kind might overlook him. The fledgling hope he’d be able to milk a little more time with Rayelle flared.

“I am very sorry.” A frown actually flashed across Jezika’s lips as she tilted her gaze to Tai’dqei before looking back to Rayelle. “Many of our guests are humans from eras ignorant of non-Terran life and culture. Those who are familiar with non-human life have minimal and unsavory knowledge of the yautja.”

At that, Rayelle raised her eyebrows and shot Tai’dqei a questioning look. What kind of experiences had transgressed between humans and the yautja? If Tai’dqei knew, his body language didn’t betray it. 

Though, he did know. At least in rumors and stories. Ironically, the yautja and humans had a score of interactions recorded in their respective histories. He didn’t really want to discuss that, if this was going to be his last moments with Rayelle.

Thankfully, Jezika continued on with a renewed smile, barreling over any curiosity in Rayelle. “We strive to cause as little conflict as possible within our patrons.” 

“Ah.” It made sense, Rayelle told herself, as she grudgingly shelved her curiosity about interactions between yautja and human. There was no time to discuss past transgressions or diplomacies. 

She didn’t like that the strict ‘no outsiders’ policy made sense. The ache to spend more time with Tai’dqei burned, distractingly. Rayelle had hoped to blunt it by weaseling a few more hours of time out of Tai’dqei. 

Although, she wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone. Rayelle was barely ready to admit it to herself. The entirety of their time together had been one miscommunication and misstep after another, dolloped with a helping of confusion and conflicting baggage. Untangling the threads of how she felt took time.

But there wasn’t any time for that now. 

“I suppose this is it.” Rayelle turned to Tai’dqei, limbs both heavy and twitchy with anxiety. She clasped one hand around her wrist, in front of her thighs, to keep from fidgeting. A small voice at the back of her head held its breath, hoping for Tai’dqei to say or do something to prolong their companionship. 

He disappointed her by giving a nod and affirmative grunt. 

Her lips pressed tight together, trying to find any small sign he didn’t want her to go. Reading his face was hard enough, the mask made it impossible. Rayelle couldn’t fathom why he had worn all his armor. 

A part of her mused he was going to fight to keep her aboard. Or maybe he was anticipating having to protect her from hoards of other aliens, once more. 

Or maybe he had a new assignment already lined up. That thought made her stomach twist and she wondered how much of his time she had wasted, how many potential assignments he’d missed. 

At the same time, a flare of mournful annoyance nipped at her thoughts. Rayelle felt as if she was about to be crossed off his To Do List and completely forgotten. He had only done all of this - from carting her around space to providing her the ear worm and gauntlet - out of a sense of duty. Rayelle couldn’t really ask for any more from him.

Trying to keep that in mind, she forced a smile to her lips. It wasn’t an insincere smile, but she fought to hide the wave of sadness that lapped inside her. “Thank you, for everything.”

Rayelle’s heart stuttered as Tai’dqei suddenly lumbered toward her, though he stopped an arm’s length away. He reached a large, clawed hand out, palm up as if he was expecting some sort of payment from her.

Oh. The gear, she realized, suddenly feeling the metallic heaviness on her wrist. Not entirely sure how to remove it, she held her wrist out to him. Her free hand clutched at the hem of her shirt, bottom lip worried by her teeth. She tried not to think how this was yet another thing being taken from her, on top of everything else that was happening.

Instead of hitting a button and the gauntlet falling free of her, though, Tai’dqei took another step closer. Rayelle tensed, his body heat sinking into her. His grip was firm and gentle as he tapped through the settings and options with is free hand. 

Quietly, under the counselor’s gaze, he instructed her how to remove the gauntlet - something he had avoided telling her when she had a habit of running off - and how to send him a general communique. 

“Contact me if you need anything. If it’s urgent, press this here.” He tapped another button and, almost instantly, his own gauntlet gave a repetitive alarm. Tai’dqei released Rayelle’s arm to silence the message. Then he tilted his face toward her, expression unreadable beneath the mask. “I will find you, no matter what.” 

Heat snapped across Rayelle’s face as she averted her gaze, her gauntleted wrist held against her chest. He didn’t mean that, she thought. An uproar of thoughts churned through her head, rippling through her chest. He was just being polite. They barely knew each other. 

Still, it was a nice thought and she couldn’t keep the slight smile from her lips. “Thank you. Again.” 

Tai’dqei gave a terse nod, posture painfully straight and stiff. “Take care. I hope you can see your kids again.” 

At the mention of her Elliot and Skylar, Rayelle’s heart lurched. Here she was, wanting to prolong her time with Tai’dqei, despite what he wanted and what her children needed. It was such a selfish desire, Rayelle realized, her thoughts taking on Evan’s voice.

Her words stuck in her throat and a pang in her chest threatened to spill tears from her eyes. 

Struck by an urge to do something, to convey the mess of emotions, Rayelle suddenly grabbed for Tai’dqei’s wrist. He allowed her to move his arm, probably struck by curiosity or surprise. She turned his hand over, bringing his bare palm to her lips and pressing a kiss to the center. Tai’s fingers twitched and tension coiled up his arm.

Unbeknownst to Rayelle, a prickling sensation knifed through Tai’dqei’s body, landing deep inside him. Breath caught in his lungs, his eyes widening at the affectionate display.

As rushedly as she grabbed him, Rayelle hurriedly dropped his hand and turned away. She snatched up her backpack and duffel bag - both stuffed with things he’d bought her - and reminded herself of what she could keep from their time together. There was, admittedly, a lot of little things. Books and clothes and fidget toys. Plenty to remind her of Tai’dqei. 

None of it was him, though.  

“Goodbye, Tai’dqei.” She couldn’t turn around to face him, to be met with that blank mask and be unable to discern what he felt. Consequently, Rayelle didn’t see how he still he stood, mask inclined to his hand, frozen in the spot she had held it. 

If Jezika thought anything awry, it wasn’t made apparent. She simply followed Rayelle out, after beckoning a chipper thank you and goodbye to Tai’dqei. The two women traipsed out the ship and into the docking port, before the door closed behind them. 

It wasn’t until the two were well gone that Tai’dqei realized he hadn’t said goodbye. All the better, he thought, as he fisted the hand Rayelle had kissed and allowed it to drop. 

His other hand reached up to wrench off his helmet as he headed to the cockpit. A spark of unaddressed frustration had him flinging the helmet into a passenger seat, where it bounced down the row. Thankfully, it didn’t clatter to the floor. Though he was only half-aware of that fortune.

His mind was focused on other things. Namely leaving before he did something asinine.

If he lingered too long, Tai’dqei feared he’d go after her. The burn to touch her still seared at his hand, made worse by her kiss. Instead, he used the computer to scan the area for any points of interest. Thankfully, a bounty outpost wasn’t far. There, he could find his next job, restock supplies, and maybe have a destined-to-be-unsatisfactory stop at a brothel. His mind sloppily listed a number of to do’s to shove thoughts of Rayelle further away.

She got to where she needed to go. The proper authorities would handle it from here, whether that meant sending her back to her time or finding her a nice human settlement to live in or sending her back to Earth. Tai’dqei honestly didn’t know what the protocol was, if a human couldn’t be sent back to their time. 

But, there was never going to be a message from her. No matter her flirtations or friendliness over their last hours together. 

Tai’dqei’s mandibles flexed with agitation. No, this was a short, eventful chapter that was now closed. He steeled himself until he received clearance to leave. A swell of something leaden and heavy settled in his chest, as he maneuvered away from the docking station, away from the planet.

Away from Rayelle. 

—

On the jumpship - cloaked to look like a cloud - from the dock station to the resort, Rayelle watched a light flash from the suspended station and disappear into the atmosphere. She presumed it was Tai’dqei’s ship. Something in her chest twisted, thinking of how he had left so soon.

Looking away from the sky, she turned her gaze to the gauntlet still on her wrist. The sensible part of her told her to remove it. She didn’t need it any longer. 

Another part of her wanted to test his claim. Would he really come if she sent an urgent message? Even if they had just parted? Her fingers hovered over the contact button. 

“You will absolutely love it here, Miss Brooks!” The counselor twittered, seated beside Rayelle. She ticked off what Rerli 3's resort had to offer, all of it simple repetition from what Rayelle had read. “We have all sorts of fun things to do. Books to read, old media to ingest, kitchens to cook, a spa and pool to relax in. And so much, much more!” 

“Sounds wonderful,” Rayelle intoned, feeling a little hollow at the words. She closed out the communication app, forcing herself to forget about messaging him. At least, not urgently. She had already taken up so much of his time. Maybe in a week or a month or a year, she’d reach out to him. See how he was doing and reconnect, if she was lucky.

Well, if she was still in this time, she supposed. Faintly, Rayelle wondered if the gauntlets would work out-of-time. If she sent a message from 2022, would it bounce around the universe until he received it in this time? Her lips pressed tight together at the unlikely scenario.

“Oh, it is wonderful!” By this point, Rayelle felt like Jezika was a broken record. Faintly, she wondered if the woman did, indeed, have more in common with technology than with Rayelle. Unaware of Rayelle’s thoughts, the counselor continued on, “It will be so nice after space-hopping with a yautja. They can be particularly difficult.” 

Rayelle offered a half-laugh at that, unable to deny that sentiment though not liking the tone. Again, her heart twisted. She wasn’t sure if Tai’dqei was necessarily more difficult between the two of them. 

As Rerli 3 came closer into view out her window, Rayelle picked out trees, hills, rivers, and buildings. It looked very much like Earth, she was surprised to realize. That was likely why this planet was chosen for displaced humans, she thought. 

She pondered what the resort was like, if she’d be the only human in the 2020s wing, and other inane little details. Meanwhile, her brain fought between the pros and cons of reaching out to Tai’dqei, how soon, how often, if she ever should.

Frustration mounted the longer her mind split her attention. With fists clenching in her lap, Rayelle glared out the window, not really seeing Rerli 3. 

She was not going to live each day, pining away for an alien that couldn’t wait to leave her behind. Not to fault him, of course. She had put him through the hormonal ringer while he tried to tiptoe around her emotional baggage. 

It was just obvious, with how fast he left, how eager he was to be done with her.

Firmly deciding she wasn’t going to waste any more of his time, Rayelle forced her thoughts to focus on Rerli 3 and hopefully returning to her home-time.

—

Five cycles passed. 

Tai’dqei had languished an outpost on Vh’oi for three of those. Supplies replenished, regular ship maintenance acquired, and a visit to the local brothel undergone. All the while, quiet thoughts of Rayelle bubbled at the back of his mind.

How was she doing? Had she befriended anyone? Had she gone beyond friendliness? Was she already back home, in her time with her kids? Did she ever think of him? 

The thoughts got louder and the crowds on Vh’oi became harder to stand. On the fourth cycle, he decided to take off to a small nearby planet to camp and hunt. To be within the quiet embrace of nature and to settle the frenzy in his head.

It didn’t do much good. Much of the fauna on the planet was small, unchallenging, and sought to flee rather than fight. As such, he mostly hunted for sustenance and not honor. Which was fine. There was a pit in his chest that made it hard to imagine celebrating a good hunt well commenced. 

Sitting half-dressed in the balmy light of day, his ship nearby and the sun high, Tai’dqei stared out over the expanse of flora and trees from his spot on a cliff. He was avoiding thinking, since the effort tended to roll around to Rayelle.

A comm chimed into his gauntlet and, lazily, he glanced at it. He’d kept Ah’ke apprised of the situation. Aware or simply intuitive, she had uncovered his own conflicting emotions easily. Likely, she was checking up on him, making sure he hadn’t done anything poorly thought out. 

Tai’dqei’s eyes widened as he realized it wasn’t from Ah’ke. 

With mandibles flickering with sudden unrest, Tai’dqei opened Rayelle’s message.