#but yall. this is the worst its been and i dont even see light on the horizon

[kiradical]

.

[keen-umbreon]

yall i am craving some of the foods that my old partner from team plasma made me all the time and i am so tempted to try calling all his phone numbers and visiting his old haunts. he grew all his ingredients in this wonderful green house that he technically-illegally owned off the side of a route. so it wouldnt be the same from a store, i know cuz ive tried ones from stores or from other people.

i miss: his crispy fried soy curls with nutritional yeast and veggie seasoning. his black-bean brownies. his apricorn smoothies with spinach and bananas and lovingly picked berry combos. his home-made-go-meals of buns filled with seitan sausage and cheese substitute or my favorite berry chunks that he'd always have on days where we'd have a raid on a breeding mill. his little candies that he would shape almost like pokemon but theyd always be lopsided. the way he'd always be able to find some form of food that would work great with whatever tea id bring and wed have a short picnic before we got yelled at for absconding for too long. how hed laugh at my jokes even when they were drier than the desert resort and his laugh was this quiet chuckle but it made my world. his roast potatoes with a thick garlic-and-brown-sugar glaze. how we'd both work so well together like the faces of a klink. his little sitrus-and-pecha buns that hed give me to take home the days after we got into fights with each other over different opinions as an apology. how hed love everything i cooked for him back, teas and breads and over-dried fruit leather. how i eventually learned how to read his blank facial expressions clearer than anything and ive never been able to read a human face but i could read his. he understood me and i understood him.

i wonder if he'd hate me now. if he would punch me in the face like he did that one counter-protester at that gym rally. hed probably do worse to me. i wonder if he got out. as part of my parole, i cant contact anyone from plasma. i miss him so much, i feel like im half empty. he wouldnt recognize me, hed see me only as the enemy that we fought against for so long. i dont even recognize myself today. my hairs the wrong color, wrong length, my facial expressions all different, the way i interact with others all wrong, other people are all wrong, trainers and pokemon all wrong, food tastes wrong, im all wrong. im going to bed. maybe everything will feel right in the morning light. i miss feeling right. i miss the certainty. i miss him. damnit alum.

#ooc all the food is from meals ive made or have been made for me and i legit miss those foods but i can never make them right anymore

#ooc so i put that feeling into this and also the feeling of missing someone important and of not recognizing yourself in the mirror anymore

#ooc this is a recovery story similar to mine but hes still in the early stages in some ways

#ooc i had so many nights where id miss something little and then id miss something like the feeling of closeness and shared bond

#ooc and then id go from missing the friendly hugs to full blown wishing i could go back to it

#ooc its the worst feeling to realize that you cant EVER go back to how you were before

#ooc but i wouldnt change my current happiness for that bond ever im a lot better of a person and a lot happier without them

[camerawhoisalsocam]

DC fan here, lemme give yall my 2 cents on thesw outfits.

FUCK

Okay lemme run down the best to worst, I'll start with the good and I'll slowly devolve into an insane little man

Wonder Woman. Honestly its rare to mess up WW's design. This ia a fairly accurate rendition, mixing in the combat skirt with the OG shorta works, the line work on the upperbody is good, and the arm peices look good. Hell they even made sure to make her muscles pop out more and even gave her slightly tanned skin to match her greek heritage. Oh boy, that face tho, she uh, she dont look right. Her head looks like a rectangle. That small mouth makes her face all smooshed too

Vixen is so damn bland. I know most of her outfits consist of a orange leotard. Can do something! Give her tiger prints on her legs! Make the top of her outfit thats black into a jacket, or make it dark brown like on her teenage outfit! Give her tooth earings, DO ANYTHING! Its so boring to look at! Vixen has a very plain original design, that makes her SO EASY TO CHANGE! Out of so many DC hero's she has is one of the most customizable. Also i dont like how her bracelet dont match anything else on her outfit, just make them silver to match the necklace ffs

Black Canary looks like a ghost. Its like the paper white skin of the old engine. Hey atleast the blonde isn't yellow colored like every other blonde in RWBY. Now onto the.... idk what to call it. Canary isnt a stranger to blue, but this much is excessive. Black and Grey had been a simple color palet that works great. When it comes to Canary she's the opposite of Vixen where little is enough. Now onto the outfit, the leggings/stocking dont look skintight as they normally should be, the jacket is fine and I've slowly warmed up to the chocker type lace around her neck. But that shirt? I hate it, the lines are uneeded and over complicated for her design. Whats the point of the little opening at the top for? Fanservive? Its all just too distracting to look at

Yang....

My god what am I looking at? Okay top to bottom lets run it down

I know we cant see her ponytail that well but from what I can see I know her V4 pony is better. This looks like it just falls flat, Yangs hair has to have some poof to it. And god dammit fix her bangs. They look longer and messier, I know its a small change but changing a character hair, specifically the bangs, can really change how their face looks.

I've always had issues with how much of Yangs neck geys covered since it makes her head area even bigger. Her V1 scarf and the V2 lack there of looked great, the scarf even looked good in V7. But this is so excessive. Its massive! I know she's taking on a spartan like look, so take a look at Shazam and make that orange towel smaller!

The chest, yeah im going there. I know Yang is the "big booby blonde" but my lord those look painful. Her body proportions have been inflated! Armour is supposed to suppress a girls chest for proper protection. Each tit is as big as her head! Atleast the armour is gold, thank god Yang has her primary color on a goos majority of her body.

Now for the arms and lower torso. Im happy they took the dark brown from her V7 jacket, idk of this is a hot take but I like that jacket and the color works well for Yang as a pseudo black. The stripes are fine on the arm but I don't like them on the body.

No! Get that poopy brown over all colors off! Its gross! And that light yellow pee color doenst work either. Make it a bolder yellow or make it gold.

Alright thanks RT for giving me a reason to vent out my frustrations of my awful day in a productive way instead of lashing out like an angey gremlin.

I may not be a professional character designer, or an artist, but im not a dumbass. I know RT has had issues with character designs in recent years, so using these as the first teaser/leak is definitely a turn off. Not as big a turn off as the first one or the fact that RT has their mits on this, but this leak doesn't make me hopeful for this

How is it that the three superwomen look so cool... and then there's Yang.

[sneegsnitties]

Hey friendly reminder, if u ask a cc to cause harm to michael, or if u want harm to come to michael thats weirdchamp in the words of miss hannahxxrose.

It aint funny or cool bc all of the other ccs know how important he is to cc!ranboo and cc!tubbo. So they wont even consider killing him because ranboo refuses to even write it into his script, so they wont put it into theirs (yes a couple of characters have thought about it, but wont go through with it due to this fact)

Hell, even just causing him harm in general, its super distressing to see bc yall are having enderwalk!ranboo do it and painting enderwalk!ranboo as a terrible, murderous thing when in reality hes just More Enderman.

Enderman are literally peaceful creatures unless provoked. Enderwalk!ranboo has literally only been shown walking around aimlessly and picking up blocks and his natural curiosity includes following people around in this state. He doesnt remeber what he does bc hes fucking 'asleep'. The worst thing hes done in his state, that we know of, is visit dream, 4th memory book and hold onto tommys disc

"But the angst!" You might say! I dont give a shit my man. I dont know how many of yall would agree with me, but its a super cheap move and just absolutely terrible to do overrall.

ANOTHER THING: RANBOO KILLING ANYONE OR ANYTHING IS EXTREMELY OUT OF CHARACTER AS HE WOULD RATHER NOT HURT ANYONE AND ONLY ATTACKS WHEN HE IS ATTACKED FIRST.

This shit aint funny or cool. If you think its okay to kill michael, fucking block me right now. I dont give a shit. I dont want to interact with you if youd like to kill a child for your cheap angst.

When a cc even refuses to do something, when multiple ccs refuse to do it because they know itll lead to something bad and they dont want to risk upsetting their fellow cc. Maybe start fucking considering what your doing isnt good. Maybe. Just fucking maybe... killing/harming michael puts you in the wrong and in a really bad light with parts of the fandom.

[reidsnose]

Window

overview: reader accidentally falls out of a window while having a late night talk with spencer (loosely based on the song: home by edward shapre and the magnetic zeros)

genre: angst? FLUFF

warning: blood, head injury, hospital visit, overdramatic reader thinks shes dying

a/n: i really really dont know if yall will like this but i do and i think its cute so please lmk what u think ab it :)

masterlist

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Spencer knew it wasn't the safest thing in the world. you did too. but something about sitting on the outside window ledge together, talking and laughing, was far too tempting of an offer to pass up. and besides, it was just over 6 feet off of the ground! whats the worst that could happen?

and so you sat, shoulders smushed together so you could both fit. a blanket wrapped around you both, keeping the cool night air locked out. however, you were so close together (and so flushed) that even without the blanket you'd both still be warm.

you adored nights like this with him, thinking to yourself how you got lucky enough to call him your best friend. to anyone else, it was obvious you two were deeply yet obliviously, painfully in love. you watched as he retold a memory he had of the two of you, eyes widening and hands peeking through the blanket to gesture wildly with each sentence. though you were listening to the story, growing more and more fond of the memory now that it was being told from his perspective, you couldn't help but be distracted by him. his essence. his being. he was...intoxicating.

and then he cut to the punch line and looked to you for a reaction, watching beauty radiate from you as you threw your head back and laughed. he didn't even realize how funny it was until he saw how hard you were laughing. and then you snorted, which of course caused you to laugh more. with tears nearly coming out of your eyes, you wrapped your hands around your aching stomach, trying to control your laughter and completely forgetting that you needed your hands to keep you balanced on the window.

he took you in, a tranquility like no other filling his heart.

and then it happen.

in slow motion he watched you lose your balance, unable to catch his grasp as you fell towards the ground outside. fear coursed through his veins as he tried to calculate every possible out come. and then suddenly time was back to normal, and you were on the floor, a fresh cut on your head.

without missing a beat he jumped out after you, landing far more gracefully than you had.

you felt him lift your head into his lap, barely hearing his muffled words. you nodded when he asked if you could hear him for the fourth time. and then you felt some blood trickle down your face. and you did not do well with seeing your own blood.

that was it. you were gonna die. you never told him how you felt and you were going to die. you could even feel death pulling on your eyelids.

in reality, you had landed on your hip and your head hit a pointy rock. it felt like hell but medically you would be just fine. it looked a lot worse than it actually was, head injuries produce far more blood than other body parts.

spencer knew this as he peeled the cardigan off of his shoulders, bunching it up and applying pressure to your wound.

he picked you up bridal style, trying hard to cradle your head at the same time. he was beyond relieved at how relatively minor this was going to be. you would heal, and you would be ok. he got to his car and gently placed you in the passenger seat before running to the drivers side and taking off as fast as he possible could.

"Spencer," you rasped.

"don't talk very much right now. don't worry i'm going to get you to the hospital just stay awake for me you've probably got a concussion." he explained, looking over worriedly.

"im going to die." you told him, your brain feeling foggy from seeing your own blood.

"no you wont. i promise you wont die."

you went on telling him again and again how you would die and how the team shouldn't cry for you. and he patiently explained every time that you would be ok. and as he carried you into the ER you took one look at the cardigan that had rested against your forehead and convinced yourself 110% that you were on your death bed.

so it was now or never.

"Spencer before i die i want you to know that i love you. i always have. i just had to get it off my chest before i left this world with you still in it." you blurted as the doctors began to take you away.

he stood there, mouth agape at your confession.

"she is not going to die." one of the doctors reassured Spencer before turning on his heels and jogging to catch up with the rest of them.

it had to have been the loss of blood. or maybe a concussion fogged your thinking. or maybe he's in shock and he's hearing things. because there is no possible way that that just happened.

and so he sat in the waiting room for nearly an hour while they stitched up your head, nervously tapping his foot to match the pace of his racing thoughts.

he was thinking through every single moment the two of you had ever shared, wondering if-hoping that there was some truth to your confession, when they called out your name. he shot up faster than he ever had before, even getting a little light headed at the sudden quick stance.

he walked in to see you sitting up, drinking some apple juice that the nurses had brought you. and even then, in a hospital bed with half a dozen stitches in your forehead, you looked more beautiful than ever. he was astonished. absolutely astonished at just how radiant you were. your eyes twinkles as you smiled at him.

"so false alarm.. i didnt die." you joked, trying to hide your embarrassment, handing him a hospital issued jello.

"im so glad youre ok. you know i told you from the start we shouldnt have sat on the window," he chuckled, eyes feeling teary for a reason unknown to him.

"i know i know, you're always right." you giggled a little before wincing in pain from it.

his hand came up and lightly brushed your hair back, soothing you so much your eyes immediately fluttered closed. he had to bring it up, he had to know.

"did you mean it?" he asked.

you tried to control your heart rate while you played it dumb, "well yeah i really did think i was going to die."

"thats not what i meant."

"i know." you admitted. "yes. i meant it. i still mean it and if thats weird for you and you want to leave i completely understand-"

he cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, soft but passionate, tasting of jello.

it was a better profession of love than any speech he could try to make. because regardless of how many big words he used, it wouldn't be enough. not to mention that being around you makes his brain turn into mush, rendering it completely useless.

your heart rate monitor started going absolutely wild, beeping quickly and erratically. you both started laughing into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away. euphoria coursed through your veins, two lovesick bozos in the hospital.

you two talked for a little, buzzed from the kiss., smiling like a couple of idiots. but you were happy. sitting in the hospital with a cracked open head and you were still happy. because Spencer was there. and he makes you happy.

after talking to the doctor and a phone call with hotch, you were told to take two weeks off of work. spencer insisted that he go home early every day so he can come over and take care of you. and that was fiinnneee by you.

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[jangofctts]

Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit 

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end    

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met. 

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things. 

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income. 

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing. 

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster. 

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.  

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles. 

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship. 

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.  

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back. 

Whatever.

 Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off. 

Maybe. 

                                                       -=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you. 

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.” 

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?” 

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think. 

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.” 

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”  

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots. 

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.” 

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.     

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.” 

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…” 

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.       

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own). 

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.  

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.       

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that. 

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

                                                 -=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show. 

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will. 

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.  

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…          

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.  

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans. 

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.    

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal. 

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.     

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…        

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.   

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.  

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter. 

Eh.    

Could be worse. 

At least you aren’t dead. 

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun. 

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.        

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.      

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light. 

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.  

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room. 

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”      

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.” 

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.” 

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.   

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.  

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.” 

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”  

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt. 

Damn it.  

                                                     -=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this. 

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn. 

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red. 

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.” 

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”      

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it. 

“Leave.” 

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.” 

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved. 

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”  

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side. 

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.” 

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”  

You wince. 

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”  

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.” 

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.    

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet. 

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch. 

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage. 

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?” 

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.” 

You frown. “Poor guy…” 

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.  

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp. 

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?” 

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder. 

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.” 

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.” 

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them. 

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right. 

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath. 

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.   

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning. 

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet. 

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man. 

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell— 

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling. 

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?” 

“She isn’t made of glass.” 

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.  

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.” 

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance. 

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.” 

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.” 

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.   

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.” 

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin. 

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.        

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again. 

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole. 

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.” 

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.  

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope. 

Here you are—asphyxiating.   

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it. 

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?   

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off. 

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.  

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.  

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”           

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on. 

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.” 

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“ 

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah. 

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?” 

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.   

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.” 

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree. 

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk? 

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”    

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.      

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.” 

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.” 

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.” 

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din." 

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb. 

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”  

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing. 

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees. 

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch. 

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.   

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.    

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds. 

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm. 

“Paz—“ 

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”  

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.      

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.     

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh. 

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”  

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—  

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”  

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough. 

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.” 

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.” 

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.” 

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you. 

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.  

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals. 

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?” 

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered. 

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation. 

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.” 

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration. 

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—   

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip. 

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind. 

Din’s kiss is devouring—  

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—  

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning. 

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.   

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.” 

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on. 

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside. 

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth. 

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.  

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now— 

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit. 

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away. 

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.   

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.           

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.” 

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.” 

“Neither will your arrogance.” 

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out. 

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.” 

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.” 

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic. 

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”  

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further. 

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—         

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words. 

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips. 

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?” 

Din. 

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.    

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position. 

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath. 

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.” 

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.       

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him. 

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.          

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete. 

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.    

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.” 

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need. 

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much. 

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours. 

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.      

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.  

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”     

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.            

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear. 

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder. 

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?” 

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.  

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.” 

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts. 

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.     

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—     

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.     

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?  

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.   

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.  

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.” 

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems. 

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air. 

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.      

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.” 

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.     

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future. 

You shrug it off.    

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear. 

“You love her, don't you?” 

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak 

or’dinni--dumbass idiot 

vod--brother/comrade 

tag list: 

@bobafctts​ @djxrxn​ @teaofpeach​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @nelba​ @datmando​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @dreams-like-clockwork​ @aerynwrites​ @auty-ren​ @huliabitch​ @anxiety-riddled-mando​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @trippedmetaldetector​ 

[thrill-seeker-vn]

i literally had the WORST dream last night yall... i gotta tell someone to get the embarrasment off my chest but okay OH AND ALSO TW FOR DEATH AND MURDER

so like i could NOT for the life of me get to sleep, but then i finally felt like i was, i closed my eyes and not even two seconds later i felt like i was seeing this bright shining light in my eyes. and so i opened my eyes a little and realized I was looking at a sky, and I was also like being given a piggy back ride or something??? and then i realized im in a dream (i usually lucid dream) and so i was like okay fine ill just go along with it. but then the person giving me the piggy back ride SPEAKS and he's like 'you're finally awake, huh?

and the voice sounded familiar and i was begging that it wasnt him but i looked over and nope it WAS it was my crush from like three years ago BRO I HATE THAT GUY

so i said something like 'not this shit' and oh god he had the personality of a romance novel guy so he smirked and said 'what, you're not excited to see me?' and so i knew i had to wake up RIGHT NOW but it wasnt WORKING LIKE IT USUALLY DOES

and so he said something like 'woah, are you constipated? ill let you off my back, dont get my clothes dirty' so i realized he could see the expressions it was taking me to wake up???? so i said uh yeah i need to be let down RN im having terrible indegistion so he let me down and then i started SPRINTING but it wasnt very easy bc apparently i had been thrown in the worst dream ever and i was wearing this big fluffy dress, a corset, and heels??? anyways i was running to look for a cliff cuz y'know how in dreams when you die you wake up? but i couldn't outrun him bc in real life he's a very excellent athlete (never ever like athletes not a good idea) and so he catches me like right away so im like BRO LET ME GO I NEED TO LEAVE and then he awares me the ONLY way we can leave is if i join him, and so i had to weigh my opinions: either go along with the most embarrasing dream ever, or get mauled by a bear or bit by a mosquito or something. I mean we were also in this gigantic forest so i was like fine. if you dont get me home soon tho im gonna kill us both.

and so we walk for days. i ask him questions which he answers but i dont remember any of the answers, i was in so much distress. anyways it feels like days have passed and he's STILL acting like a cringe guy from a romance novel so i am trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

and so again im sick and tired and i just wanna WAKE UP bc even when im sleeping in the dream IM NOT WAKING UP IRL so eventually i SNAP and i scream at him WHEN ARE YOU GETTING ME HOME WTF

and so eventualy he was like 'okay well i was taking you the long way but there's also a short way.' and so when i ask him he says that the short way is KISSING HIM WHAT????

and he KEPT PESTERING ME FOR DAYS LIKE I WENT TO THIS TEMPLE SO I COULD SAY I WANTED TO BE HOLY CELIBATE FOREVER AND HE STILL PESTERED ME I WAS TRYING SO HARD TO WAKE UP IT WAS A NIGHTMARE I HATE THIS GUY!!!

anyways then he tells me its my DESTINY???? HUH??? and so i tell him no and then he like tells me it'll also save the KiNGDOM?? and i got this scene of the king fucking POISONED???? and that it would help the poor little peasants who were suffering???? to appeal to my moral judements??? and so i ignored him for a couple days and one day i was leaving for the medieval market and he was like 'cmon just one lil smooch' and i was like OKAY FINE ILL KISS YOU WHEN I COME BACK and i went to the store

when i came back i told him lets get this over with and as he leaned close and closed his eyes i pulled out the weapon i got from the store and killed him and i THOUGHT IT WOULD WAKE ME UP

but it didnt happen and i was just surrounded by this huge crowd of people and like kids were crying parents were covering their eyes everyone was horrified and then i looked down and i saw my old crush's skin MELTING OFF until he turned into this way hotter guy??? and basically i got arrested and then some monks came and they explained that basically i had just. killed the person they considered a deity??? and then i realized in the temple i had seen him painted and there was a mural of him in the store so i was like.... oh....

anyways i got imprisoned as a religious criminal and then his freaking older brother showed up and he was WAY hotter than his younger brother and i couldnt even get through the explanation until he decided as punishment he would send me to hell to do different tasks

anyways after a couple months i finally convince him that his brother had set me up and i didnt know and yeah eventually he finds out the 'destiny' his younger brother was talking ab was like if he did get to kiss me he would be able to go into my world and take over my body???? anyways he was gonna apologise to me so he organized this nice thing but the idiot left me alone in whatever hell he owned but the problem was he didn't. kill me to take me to hell. so the lore here is the demons in this world eat mortals so i, the completely alive person, when he left me for five minutes, was torn to shreds. yeah. it was the worst dream EVER BRO

[wienerbarnes]

Stressor

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,622

Warnings: murder lol, mentions of gore/blood, mentions of rape (its described in like two sentences and theres a short non-graphic flashback, but pls pls pls message me if you dont wanna read and ill give u a sparknotes version), so theres angst but also some nice parts like bucky meditating okay

A/N: wrote this while procrastinating my art commissions but i bought my first laptop BY MYSELF after saving for months and im v excited :) lmk what yall think of this, i promise next part will be goofier/happier lol

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Shit… Fuck… Fuck! He’s gonna fucking kill me… fuck…”

The mumbles spill from your lips as you take in the scene in front of you. Puddles and puddles of blood covered the floor of your apartment, dirtying your beige tile and all the other surfaces with splatters. David lays in the middle, with about thirty-six stab wounds in his body.

When you and Bucky started the arrangement regarding your list, there were two rules you two agreed to follow - no matter what. First rule: Kills are never completed alone. You two are to complete the list together and help each other with everything that involves the person. Second rule: Bucky is to know everything about the person they’re killing. What they did to you, their name, their remaining family, where they live, what they eat for breakfast; everything. 

And here you were breaking both of those rules.

It was too good of an opportunity, you try and convince yourself. Bucky will understand, he’s always so understanding, he never yells, he’s always so nice to you; a choked sob escaped your body as your dirty hands fly to cover your face, tears flowing down your cheeks mixing with the blood now smeared across your skin.

…

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Bucky always told you to be extremely cautious when leaving the apartment. Even though it had been well over a year, almost two, since your prison escape, you never knew who could be watching. Every few weeks or so, your name pops up in the news, Whatever happened to one of the worst killers in modern history, How did she pull off such an escape from such a high security facility, Is she even still alive, etc.

But as soon as your name appears, it vanishes once more, replaced by some other injustice happening in the world.

Your feet take you inside a small bar, the musky scent intrigues you along with the copious amounts of peanut shells littering the floor. You take a seat on the stool and try not to pay attention to the fact that every single person in the room is staring at you right now. But you can’t blame them; you’ve dyed your hair a pastel pink now, body covered in baggy jeans and baby blue long-sleeved milkmaid top, a gift from Bucky. “You can’t wear that one t-shirt, that’s mine, by the way, forever.” He’d told you. Your rainbow painted toes and fingernails stand out under the dimmed lights of the place.

An older man behind the bar approaches you and places a napkin in front of you, “What can I get ya’?” You order some beer plastered on the wall because as far as you know, you’ve never even tried alcohol before, let alone know enough about it to have any kind of preference.

You take sips of the beer for a while, aimlessly watching the sports game playing on the TV, every once in a while glancing at the pool table where a group of older men play a game together. Suddenly, the stool beside you becomes occupied. You know it’s not Bucky, he doesn’t know you’re here and it’s not his cologne, but for a second you were hoping it was. A parallel to when you sat with him in that cafe all that time ago. When he bought you that apple pie and hot chocolate. I miss him…

You refuse to look over at the man sitting next to you, but you can feel his eyes blatantly staring at you. 

“So… what’s your name?” He breaks the silence and asks you. You don’t respond, simply just continue sipping away at your beer.

“My name is David.” He offers. A chill runs up your spine at the name and you look over at him. He looks so familiar… Where do I know him from? Have I seen him at the food market before? Is he Hydra? Did we go to school together? Were we in the Marines-

“Hey officer,” A deep voice curls into your ear, causing a chill to run up your spine.

“Fuck off, David. I’m trying to do my hair.” You don’t bother glancing at him in the mirror as you scoop more gel into your hands and smooth it onto the top of your head. You’ve let your hair grow to long and the strands keep sticking out of the bun, but the thought of asking any of the other women, or worse - the men, for help cutting it terrifies you. You’re still too new.

“Now, is that any way to talk to your higher up?” A large hand wraps around your middle and gropes your breast.

“I said fuck off.” A pointy elbow slams back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“I’ll get you for that, just you wait. Fresh meat.”

Your body runs cold as you make the connection and you feel as though your entire body has shut down. You can feel the cold sweat gathering in your palms and your lower back. A lump forms in your throat and you want to cry; you want to scream. But something takes over, and although you feel terrified, you keep yourself composed; hide your anxiety.

“Do you want to get out of here? My place is only a few blocks away.” You ask, false sultriness dripping from your voice. David smirks at you, clearly not recognizing you from nearly a decade ago. 

He takes out some cash and places it on the bar, grabbing your beer from your hands and placing it on top, grabbing your hands after and leading you out of the bar.

…

Bucky sits on the floor of his living room, practicing his twenty minutes of meditation before bed. Alpine rubs her cheek against the bare top of his foot that’s crossed under his knee, but eventually gets bored before trotting around behind him to start climbing her way up his back. Bucky tries his best to ignore her tiny nails digging through his shirt, but can’t help but chuckle as she makes herself comfortable in the curve of his neck. “Guess meditation time is over, huh baby?” He whispers before gathering her in his hands and plopping her on his bed. He reaches down to roll up his yoga mat when he hears a silent buzzing from his kitchen.

Confused on who would be calling him this late, knowing that Sharon’s visiting a college friend over in SoHo and Sam’s on a date, he sees a number he doesn’t recognize flash on the screen. Bucky hesitates answering, but he knows telemarketers rarely call this late.

“Hello?” Bucky answers.

“B-Bucky?” Your shaky voice sounds on the other end. The sound is watery and raspy, like you've been sobbing your eyes out and screaming for hours.

“Bucky, I-I-I need y-your help… I fucked up,” Your voice is cut off by a hiccup as Bucky goes to grab his closest pair of pants to go over his boxers and he pulls on sneakers before grabbing the keys to his bike.

“Hey, sweetheart? Do me a favor and relax, okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bucky rushes out as he locks his door behind him before making his way to the staircase.

“I’m so so so sorry, Bucky… please don’t be mad at me-e… I broke t-the rules,” Choked sobs escape you and Bucky has never heard you cry like that before.

“Listen, I’m already on my way, okay? I’ll be at yours in twenty minutes, okay?” You don’t respond as Bucky listens to your crying and you eventually hang up.

Broke the rules? What does she mean by… oh. She couldn’t have… we had our next hit planned for a few days from now. Did she do someone else on the list? Bucky tries not to think too much about it until he can get to yours and figure out what’s going on, his motorcycle screaming through the quiet night.

…

You’ve been sitting in David’s blood for about an hour now. The liquid is cold, his body is cold, the phone in your hand is cold. Nice going, you’ve really done it now. Not only have you probably just cost yourself your freedom, but you’ve ruined your jeans and the top Bucky bought you. He’s going to be so mad at you; he’s going to be so mad that he’s going to have no choice but to bring you in. He’ll be laughing as the cops drag you away-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a frantic knock on your door, Bucky’s voice calling your name on the other side.

“If you don’t open the door, I’m breaking it down!” He calls. 

You slowly stand, trying not to slip in the puddle, before walking over to the door and opening it about halfway. Bucky’s eyes widen and his brows furrowed together as he looks your body up and down.

The blood on your clothes is starting to brown and you’re covered up to your forearms in blood. Splatters decorate your face, neck and hair, and your eyes are puffy from crying.

“I-I-” You begin to stutter. Bucky silently pushes his way inside to see the bloodbath waiting for him. He pushes the door closed behind him and stares at the body laying in the middle of the floor. Your knife still sits standing out of his face.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Bu-Bucky- I can,”

“What, you-you can explain?!” Bucky snaps, turning to face you, and you’ve never seen him look at you like this. You flinch and take a half-step backwards, bumping into the door behind you.

Bucky turns back around, a flesh and silver hand running through his hair and roughly over his face.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He begins, voice eerily even, still staring at the body. “You're going to go shower and wash all of the blood off your body. Then you’re going to make sure this apartment is spotless. I’ll take care of… him. And then we’ll talk when I get back. Are we understood?”

You can’t seem to make any words come out so you quickly make your way to your bathroom and close the door behind you softly.

You shower until the water runs cold and your skin is tinted red. Either from the blood or how hard you were scrubbing, you’re not sure, you just didn’t want Bucky to still be in your apartment when you stepped out.

It’s not that you were scared of him, because you weren’t. You knew that Bucky would never intentionally harm you, both physically or mentally. You were more angry at yourself. Bucky's done nothing but protect you; he’s kept you a secret, helped you indirectly work through your trauma, stitched you up, made you smile and laugh when you didn’t even think that was ever going to be possible for you anymore. You broke the only rules he asked of you. You disappointed him. You’ve put him in an even worse position than he’s already in by protecting your existence.

You turn the knob of the water to the right before stepping out and wrapping your fluffy yellow robe around your body, tying it at the waist. Your apartment is empty when you step out of the bathroom, Bucky nor David occupying the space. Your walk over to your sink and open the cabinet on the bottom to take out your cleaning supplies before getting to work.

…

Bucky’s calmed down significantly by the time he gets back to your apartment. He checks his phone to see that it’s almost five in the morning before reaching in his other pocket for your keys that he took off the table, slipping the key into the lock and jiggling it until pushing the door open. 

He’s not mad at you. Perhaps he was for a bit, but he realized that anger was just fear. Had anyone seen you? Did this guy do something to you? Did he recognize you and that’s why you needed to kill him? Did you kill him because you actually wanted to experience that again? He really hoped it wasn’t the last one.

You're sitting on your bed in the corner of the apartment, splatters still visible on the sheets but the floors are clean. The room doesn’t have an overpowering smell of bleach or cleaner, but there is no trace of a body here, besides the small splatters, but those can be passed off as splashes of wine. You did good.

Your feet are stretched out in front of your as your hands are planted behind your back, propping you up. Your yellow robe is tied around your waist but the edges sit high up on your thighs.

He sets your keys on your table, kicks off his shoes, and walks over to take a seat next to you.

“Did you know I was a Marine before all of this? When I was, like, eighteen?” You break the silence, still staring at the wall in front of you.

“Yes.” 

“The guy was my unit chief. He raped me twice during my first week there.” 

Bucky remains quiet as you explain, watching your face and it’s calm expression. You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth before opening it once more to continue.

“I went to some bar tonight and he hit on me. He didn’t recognize me, and… I don’t know. I thought I’d scare him or something, remind him what he’d done. But then he was here and he kept trying to feel me up even though I’d push him away. I didn’t have a plan yet. And then he snapped at me and then I snapped back…” You trailed off. 

“After I realized what happened, I panicked and I used his phone to call you.”

“I’m really sorry, Bucky.” You say, softer now. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins.

“Okay. I forgive you.” Bucky responds after a moment.

The two of you sit in silence next to each other on the thin sheets. You’re staring at the passing cars out the window. He’s staring at your plant that’s sitting on the small night stand next to your mattress. You’ve changed out the silver tin it was sitting in to a light blue one covered in green polka dots. 

You tilt your head to meet his eyes and look away briefly before meeting them again.

“Can… Can I have a hug, Bucky?” You ask, with the smallest voice in the world, your sentence ending in a small crack.

Bucky doesn’t answer and instead scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of him, chests touching. His left arm wraps around your back and drags slowly up and down while his right hand rests on the back of your head, softly scratching through your still damp hair. Your hands are tucked close between both your chests and your breath fans softly against his neck where your head is tucked into. He silently breathes in your scent, the children’s strawberry soap you use mixed with a homey, warm small that’s just you. He watches out the window as the sky turns from a dark blue to a deep orange; it should be about five-thirty right about now and the morning traffic is about to start.

“There’s a ton of white cat hair on your shoulder, Buck.” He hears you whisper against him, voice slurring a bit with drowsiness, the last bits of adrenaline wearing off.

He smiles to himself and holds you until you're fast asleep, and then stays for a while after that, too.

[tayfritts]

Yall I had such a bad stress dream last that i woke up with a migraine. The worst part is i knew i should have taken my medicine before bed to help but i just told myself id be fine. I know some of you know im supposed to be moving to texas this summer and thats something that has been weighing on my mind for a while. Especially since my family down there has slightly* different morals then i do.

So anyway my dream started with me spending time with them no big deal but then we had to go out onto this weird surreal beach where it felt like dusk but there was this glow that helped us all to see. As i got closer to the shore line i noticed there was a cliff that blocked part of the beach and the only way to get to the other side was to go into the water to get around. I felt very fearful for some reason to even go down there... i walked back up to the house where my family was staying thinking "i need to go to work im late i have to get to work"

but then when i saw my brother and sister i got so happy and just wanted to spend time with them. I ended up getting called away into the livingroom from my dad asking if im gunna go out and have fun with them before i could answer i got called into the kitchen by someone sayinng they missed me. (In irl i dont think they really miss me) and they asked for a hug. I went in to give them a hug and they acted like i was hurting them.... they they said something like a little lighter so i did and right away they acting like i was hurting them.... so i said "im going to stop. Im not trying to hurt you" and walked back out towards this beach.

I guess it has gotten darker cuz i noticed it was glowing behind that cliff. I started walking toward the water cautiously before noticing there were crystals growing out of the water beyond the cliff. I started to step into the water and started getting the thought again that i was late for work and i didnt have much time. Therr was a larger one i really wanted but knew id "be late" if i tried to get to it. I ended up just reaching down and grabbing what looked like a small piece of clear quarts. As i was running back up the beach i bumped into my dad and gave him the crystal. He like kindaaa said thank you but seemed more confused then anything.

The closer i got to the house the more i was like fuck work i dont need to be there. Why do i care so much. I need to just sit and enjoy this time with my family. But before i could fully convince myself i was like "OH BUT THERE IS THIS ONEEEEE THINGGGG I HAVE TO DDOOOO" so now it flashes to be being at work and i snuck into work cuz i didnt want anyone to know i was there and every time someone was about to "catch me" on god i would NARUTO RUN away from them and i was so fast they couldn't see me 😂 im still not sure if i got done what i needed to at work but i remember turning this one corner and there were like 5-6 coworkers and i just naruto ran as fast as i could past them and made it out the back door...

i woke up for a bit took my migraine medication and went back to sleep

Back in my dream its the next day and i was in a managers office getting written up for missing work even thou i got all my work done. I remember just. .. sitting there..... i asked are you serious?? After all ive done?? Then i just sat there again..... i said i had to use the bathroom. walked toward the other side of the building and just started to light everything on fire.

There was no emotion on my face until i heard everyone start to realize and scream. Everyone ran towards the exits and i just stood in the middle of everything feeling like i could finally breath even though there was nothing but flames and smoke around me. Right as i felt like the flames would touch me i turned around and saw one emergency exit not blocked by the flame. I debating for a moment if i wanted to escape. The next thing i knew i was at the door pushing it open. I dont remember anything after that....

Sorry for any spelling errors but i had to hurry up and type this out before i forgot. I feel like my tumblr family are the only people that rrally care sometimes i weird as that seems. Thank you to anyone who read the whole thing or even part of it <3 i hope everyone has a good day! And for any FBI agents reading this i have no intention of burning my place of work down 😂

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Discord pt 36

[Date: 22/02, 06:52 AM - 07:29 AM GMT]

[Direct continuation of pt 35]

fetch: “so. let me see if I have this straight.

i was talking to crown about... something. i dont remember what. crown turns me into a court member. Knight? Knight.”

fetch: “knight does. things. I don’t remember anything I supposedly did as knight but it feels like I’ve run a marathon and this migraine is awful and this nosebleed is the worst”

fetch: “and then all of a sudden I wake up and I don’t know where i am and i don’t know why I’m here and I don’t remember where I’ve been or what I did I don’t remember”

Little-K1ng: “ yeah uh .. . .. .the taxidermy .... haha remember the opossum?? you kinda. brougth that up..”

fetch: “taxidermy right you do that don’t you”

[Redacted]: “fetch if you don’t know where you are you might want to leave crown might be near”

fetch: “no i need to remember. this is important it needs to be written down.”

[People express concern]

fetch: “obviously i’ll be careful. this is me we’re talking about.”

fetch: “I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE I AM. I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE. its fucking freezing.”

fetch: “no lights. phone’s at 56% i don’t want to waste battery by using flashlight. can only hear crickets and night animals”

fetch: “there’s a break in the foliage leading up to where I woke up. I might follow the trail. I had to have come from somewhere”

[People tell them to be careful]

fetch: “of course. watchdogs are always alert.”

jayyyyyyyy: “how did you get stuck in the damn woods--”

fetch: “wish i fuckin knew buddy”

fetch: “ugh my tail.

almost hurts worse than my head.”

fetch: “who the fuck bound it in a straight position it literally couldn’t move”

fetch: “i read the notes. knight sad he doesn’t have a tail. it was probably crown. sick fuck.

i am focusing”

fetch: “its so fucking cold.

editor wilbur irl I guess”

[People tell them to save battery]

fetch: “oh yeah i always have power saving on

a full battery can last all day”

[moon: “make sure to stay quiet and not leave a trail of blood too”]

fetch: “the nosebleed isnt that bad but its all over my shirt and tie and hands and face and hair at this rate I can dye my ears back with my blood lmao”

fetch: “i have nothing to stop the blood anyway”

[People suggest ripping off a part of clothing]

fetch: “I dunno the nosebleed is really uncanny. its only coming from the left side of my nose. reminds me of a nightmare I had a while ago. before all this crown stuff.

[Warning on next picture for talk of gore]

fetch: “i dont remember much of the nightmare. it was a couple weeks/months ago and my memory isn't the best. it gets nasty so I can spoiler it. but I rememeber that I was pulling my brain out of my nose. and part of it got stuck and every time I pulled it set my head on fire. I woke up and the rest of the day my nose hurt.”

emuhlee: “the brain part could have a bit to do with brainwashing? have you found anything by going back to where you came from?”

fetch: “it was just a nightmare. and it was before I found out about crown.”

fetch: “ive found a bit of a more worn trail. im just gonna follow it and pray.”

[People tell them to stay safe and with them good luck]

fetch: “a dog always finds his way back home right?”

jayyyyyyyy: i dont wanna hear ab dogs ever again in this server jesus /ic

fetch: “oh come on we aren’t that bad /lh”

fetch: “i mean I saw that knight was scared of dogs. I used to as well when I was a kid.”

kate: “..hm nah that’s a dumb idea sorry”

Ethan: “what’s your idea?”

fetch: “yeah whats up”

kate: “So what I had a thinky thought about, and this could be stupid because we've only gotten one thing, but Fetch just said that he was scared of dogs as a kid. I'm wondering if this... brainwashing more or less reverts you back a certain number of years? Like if you were scared of something as a kid, but now you're older and got brought into the Court, would you be scared of the same things you were scared of when you were younger? I have no basis for this idea because we've only gotten Fetch back, but if we somehow managed to get Pa- Max back, we could see if it lines up.”

fetch: “hm.

pretty plausible, maybe”

fetch: “or i guess i was just easier to appreciate as a younger kid. crown wants us to be happy. i definitely used to be happier”

wilboo soot: “Fetch? You’re back, as Fetch?”

fetch: “yeah hi boo”

wilboo soot: “MY ADMIN IS BACK”

fetch: “YEAH YR ADMIN IS BACK :D RETURN OF THE KING”

[People theorize more on Crown reverting people to how they were younger]

fetch: “I think crown just takes the mentality thats easiest to be happy. for me it was when I was a kindergartener with no worries at all and I just watched scooby doo and blues clues and I ate dinosaur nuggets on fridays if I was good in school and we had a trampoline in the backyard and I was just. just a kid.”

wilboo soot: “That checks out yeah...

Well, guess I know that I’m completely immune from being taken now! /hj”

kate: “Mood!”

fetch: “pff

I see a wider trail now.

looks like the forest is ending.”

fetch: “residential area? I think?”

fetch: “I hear cars. busy, so it must be a main road

I see houses.”

fetch: “I think I’m in a backyard.

yeah backyard.”

fetch: “oops. sorry to whose tomatoes these are.

wait.”

fetch: “wait i know this back porch.”

Little-K1ng: “oh tomatoes ?? how healthy”

fetch: “WAIT.

MONA.”

fetch: “LOOK AT YOUR BACK DOOR RIGHT NOW”

Little-K1ng: “huh??”

fetch: “MONA HEY

BACKDOOR

BACKYARD”

fetch: “MONA MONA :D”

Little-K1ng: “KNOCKING WAIT?? HANG ON IRL KNOCKING”

fetch:  “MONA HEY

HEY HEY PSPSPSPSPS LET YOUR DOGBOY IN HES COLD”

Little-K1ng: “WHAT HELLO JDFHGJKFDHGJDHJ”

fetch: “HI HELLO SORRY FOR BEEDINY ON YOUR PORCH”

Little-K1ng:  “💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕”

fetch: “MONA HI :D”

fetch:  “❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️”

Little-K1ng:  “HELL OOH YHEY HEY OH YM OGD FJHDJKHGJKDHJK JESUS THE BLOOD IS LIUKE. EVERYWHERE LMAO”

fetch:  “YEAH SORRYYY Y Y YY

INTOLD YALL IT WAS BAD

OKAY GUYS IN GONNACLEAN UP AND WARM UP AND HAVE A

SLEEPOVER LOL

ILL BE OKAY :]”

[People express concern, and tell them to stay safe]

fetch: “I care u all ! will be back to guarding the doc soon. for now I need other watchdogs to step in till I get back”

fetch: “just make sure crown or the court don’t touch it”

[Edit to the doc by fetch:]

{“Watchdog is back outside. get the fuckin squirrels out of the yard.”}

[thejamesoldier]

Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!) 

rating: explicit 

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

or

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah 

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.  

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."  

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.  

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.  

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

--

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

--

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.  

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

--

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

--

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.  

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

--

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

[siegelst]

ok i just list all the problems/LOVE i had with season 3 of Cobra kai so SPOILERS:

I. Lawrence’s parenting style

1. not going to Robby’s prison meeting

2. not even try to visit him after missing the meeting - drag your priest friend with you if you have to.

3. johnny no

4. why fight 1st and think later? oh right cobra kai mato

5. lighting Miguel’s foot on fire. kjkhkghkjh johnny no - johnny went Kreesestlye and said ‘you were too busy correcting me and didn’t realize what i really was doing - im lighting your foot on fire’ o.o   noooo johnny *i bet kreese never did that to his students*

6. throwing away the wheelchair and crutches.  you could get $500 if yall sell those instead.

II. other stuff that happen

1. Have nice night with Carmen and then go a attempt a kiss with Ali the DAY AFTER. johnny wtf dude.  *remember when grandma Diez told johnny dont get carmen pregnant- what if that happen next season?*

2. *i love ALI so much! I didn’t think that when Lawrusso and Ali get together to meet - they would have so much chemestry together than carmen to be honest*

3. KREEEEESSSSE.  ALL OF HIS SCENES.  INCLUDING HIS POINTLESS FLASHBACK. NO. NO.

4. Larusso and Lawrence trying to help robby out - like yall couldn’t take action  and knock sense into the abandon tramatize kid and tell him what is really going on. Johnny is all hurt when his own kid denys his help - i get it dude - but really man up and take your kid out of the danger zone Kreese.  jsusjsdhf

5. Johnny’s secret way into the school might be helpfull in the future for S4 and it seems that Larusso don’t seem to mind that Johnny TOOK ANOTHER CAR FROM THEIR SHOP. XD

6. why Migel and Robby so into Sam? -don’t get me wrong - i know robby cause migel have spinal injury and all - but can’t they just forgive and just leave Sam behind cause it seems she strings guys along it seem - other than that she’s great in Season 3 trying to get Lawrence’s crew and her dad’s crew together :D I mean all S2 drama could have been avoided if the guys weren’t into sam.

7. the Kid’s boyfriends/girlfriends story-line makes me think ‘’‘thank god i never try to have a girlfriend/boyfriend during those pointless high-school days’’’ XD

8. what happen to Lawrense’s rad car he had last season??? did he crash it? is it at a car shop? WHERE IS IT? the world will never know.

9. Aisha better be back for Season 4

10. Lawrence trying to figure out technology part 2. XD he thought that laptop is dead and the guy is all ‘you know you plug it in right??’ and miguel is all ‘facebook is on your laptop too’. and johnnys all ‘D: what.’.  johnny - how long does it take to send an email? pretty long time right cause person in another state.” miguel ‘its instaNT!’  LOL  I BET THE PEOPLE WHO WROTE THESE SCENES WERE LAUGHING SO MUCH

11. Miyagi’s LAST LETTER HAD ME TO TEARS.  ahhhhkkkkkk kdjkdfdjfdj i had no family but daniel-san took me into his family. I feel like a grandfather. Adkdkdkdfdjdlfjsdfjd T.T that was beautiful.

11. someone else pointed out the script writing and i sense there were weird lines but i was more focus on the story line than the style writing. some was great and some was bad.

12. I love seeing kumiko and chozen - but it wasn’t like a big part of the season and literally all good he found was Miyagi’s letter and finding out pressure points to render attacker motionless

13. most of Robby’s story line was “‘i don’t need you dad, you’re a loser get lost!’” for Season 1 and most of season 2 and it is a repeat for this season and its is old. but i get from his perspective why he is doing this but he chose the worst person to side on.

14. love that mrs. larusso slap Kreese and called him a asshXole and johnny laughs.

15. Hawk changing on teams so quick that i don’t forgive what he did to dimetri’s arm yet.

[msiopao]

The One Where the Moon Became a Witness

pairing: sera x jeno

summary: in the middle of a blackout and dead phones, they danced to the music from her box in the dark with light from the moon streaming in through the window

for christmas, the members all respectively went to their homes with Renjun and Chenle going back to China and the rest to their families, but 2 remain. The parents of the two decided to take vacations without their children since they were told to warn their families that they might not make it back home for the holidays. But it was proven wrong as they were free and now, had no family to go to.

One was in a cruise while the other was in a vacation to make up for a previously cancelled anniversary trip.

Refusing the other members’ wish to stay with them, they slightly regretted the decision at the empty dorm and the silence that filled every crevice.

Sera sat on the couch with Haikyuu playing in the TV but she was barely paying attention, instead focusing on her phone with her fingers typing rapidly and her brows furrowed together. Her brothers were all in college and they too, were without their parents. At least, they had each other and met up in New York. 

...

elliot: why couldn’t you just have taken a plane here

mika: its only 15 hours

sera: ‘iTs oNLy 15 hOUrS’

sera: fool get off crack

elias: we dont want you here anyways 😤

sera: i will actually fite your face

atticus: its literally christmas eve

atticus: would it kill you to be nice for a few days

sera: hmm,,, suddenly mom appeared in the chat

mika: can you video later

mika: we usually celebrate the first few hours of christmas together

elliot: we wouldnt need to do that if finny was here

sera: lit rally just say you miss me

elliot: yall hear sum

elias: SLDKFJAELLIOT

sera: that unfair

sera: i dont have a twin to clown you with

elliot: god has his favorites and its obviously not you

mika: stop arguing

mika: its annoying having to swipe up when i just want to play my game

sera: jeez, mik, why you so pissy for

atticus: elias used up all the hot water

sera: imagine being pissy for taking a cold shower

sera: you shouldnt be unfamiliar with it since you used to take one every morning right, brother mikhail sir?

elias: KSDFJ;ASDKLGHKLDSFJIMSCREAMING

elliot: GET REKT HYUNG

mika: GOD SERAFINA SHUT UP

atticus: one christmas

atticus: one peaceful christmas was what i want

...

jeno noticed her soft smile and he approached her, holding 2 mugs full of hot chocolate and marshmallows topped with whipped cream. Exactly how she liked it. A giggle escaped from her and she turned to look at him as she felt the cushion beside her sink due to the weight placed on it. She smiled gratefully at him and moved to hold her cup so he could safely hold his.

“Do you miss them?” He asked, noticing the name of her oldest brother’s name pop up. 

With a wistful look, she nodded and blew on the hot liquid. “Yeah. Even though I want to see them, we only have 3 days of break so its not worth flying back and forth.”

Jeno wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gently pulling her close. His eyes trained on the ball that flew around the court in the show and he felt her laugh when the orange-haired boy missed the ball.

“Ah, no!” She whined with a laugh at the face of the boy.

Continuing to watch the banter between 2 characters, they grew silent as they became focused and interested at the show and the speech that a character was giving. She soaked in every word since it reminded her and Dream but then it went blank.

Everything went dark and the soft glow from the street light came through the window beside the TV to give them a way to see things a little bit clearer. Jeno felt her tense form and with the help of the slight light, he gently pried the cup off of her hands and placed both of their mugs on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Ah, we have a blackout,” Jeno said. Sera nodded and she moved to turn on the flashlight from her phone only for it to blink ‘1%’ in red. 

Cursing at the worst timing, she turned it off and placed it to the side since it was no use anymore. “Jeno, can we use your phone?” 

With a sheepish look, he sent her a lop-sided smile. “You see, I played my game too much and I just plugged it in earlier. It might not have a lot of charge in it. I can go get it?”

“Oh, it’s okay. We just need it to tell the boys we have a blackout and in case they need to get ahold of us,” she reasoned as he stood up to get it from his room and coming back with it on hand.

They sat in silence, even the sound of birds disappeared and was replaced with eerie quietness which was very unfamiliar to the dorm. This might be the first time the walls heard such silence after they moved in.

“The light is hurting my eyes,” Jeno mumbled before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

“Do you want to go in my room? My string lights are battery operated so it’s not turned off. It’s very bright,” she suggested. He nodded and they padded over to her room at the end of the hall.

Jeno has been in her room millions of times so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory and he even noticed his hoodie hanging on her chair.

“There it is!” He pointed at the missing material he was just looking for a few days ago.

Sera smiled guiltily and placed her hands up. “Sorry,” she apologized.

“Nah, it’s okay. I just thought I lost it. You can keep it,” he reassured before jumping on her bed. “It’s so not fair you got a soft bed.”

She rolled her eyes before climbing on it beside him. “What are you talking about? Jaemin has the softest. This isn’t that comfortable.”

Jeno turned his head to look at her and his ears turned red as admired the way the bright lights against the wall illuminated her face and made her eyes brighter than they usually were. It almost made it look like she was glowing.

Sera noticed his stare and looked at him curiously. “Hm? Something on my face?”

He snapped out of it and his smile reached his eyes, turning it to crescents. “No. I just like the lights.”

For a 30 minutes, they just talked about absolute nonsense and old memories to past time since they couldn’t use his phone for entertainment. Then the string up lights flickered slightly that went unnoticed by the two.

“God, Chenle almost killed Renjun. Thank god you were able to hold him back,” Sera laughed at the memory.

Jeno shook his head with a smile when he remembered the unpleasant time that Renjun spilled a little bit of paint on his apple watch. “Honestly, he could’ve just gotten a new one. It didn’t help that you pointed it out in the first place.”

“Yah, if I didn’t, Jisung would’ve. There was a big blob of blue in the screen of his watch. Who wouldn’t notice that?” She defended and tightened her hold of his middle.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled and was about to say something when for the second time that day, they were covered in darkness again.

“Really, God absolutely hates me right now,” she muttered harshly. “Chenle took all of that good luck with him. I told him to leave that jade bracelet here.”

Jeno knew about her slight fear of the dark because she slept with the lights on everyday and it’s been probably a while since she changed the batteries. 

“You stay here while I go get some batteries and a flashli-”

“No, don’t leave me.” She stopped him from sitting up with a hand on his arm. 

Jeno saw her slight wide eyes and nodded before laying back down. His brain racked up ways to comfort and keep her entertained but he came blank. Turning his head to the side, he looked around her room with blurry eyes and he found the small box that she had on top of her dresser.

“I have an idea,” he said. “But I need to get up, love. Will you let me go get it?”

She nodded and he smiled softly before standing up and crossing the room to grab the circular object. Sera sat up and saw the familiar outline of her great-grandmother’s music box that was given to her right before she died.

Jeno gently wound the box and opened the lid, hearing the soft melody of an unknown song and watching the dancing of the 2 figures. He placed it on her nightstand and he held his hand out to her.

“May I have this dance, m’lady?” He asked. Sera wasn’t able to answer properly since the moon hit behind him so perfectly that it looked like he was an angel and she still cannot believe someone as gorgeous and perfect like Jeno was her best friend.

“I-Um,, Yes.” 

In their pajamas and socks, the two people danced slowly, moving side to side. Their eyes were closed as they slowly got lost into their own world. The soft music from the box filled the room and she could feel his heartbeat as her head rested on his chest and her arms were loosely around his neck. Jeno’s hold of her waist tightened when she moved closer to his warm form.

“Thanks, Jen.” Her gratitude made a smile appear in his face and he kissed the top of her head.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” she mumbled against the cloth.

“Hm? Can you really?” He asked, smile growing wide.

“Yea,” she answered. “Hey, Jen?”

“Hm?”

“I love your smile the most.” 

The declaration took him aback. “W-Well, thanks?”

Sera smiled at his awkward stutter and continued on. “It reminds me of the moon. When you smile, it just lights up everything else. Like the moon in the sky. It gives purpose and comfort that there is light in the midst of darkness. And your eyes. They scrunch up like moon crescents. That’s my favorite hour of the moon.”

“I love your smile, too.” He giggled and there was something different in the atmosphere.

She opened her eyes and saw the digital clock flash a red ‘12:05′. “Look, it’s Christmas.”

Jeno moved his head and he swears he could see faint snowflakes. “Oh? It is.”

“I guess I got my wish then,” she hummed happily. 

“What?”

“I wanted God to let me spend Christmas with someone I love,” she revealed and looked up to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t just a coincidence that you happened to have to stay here too.”

He brushed away strands of her hair that rested on her face before patting her hair. “Stuff happens for a reason.”

“When I came to Korea, you and Jaemin were the only ones I had. But now, I have 18 people with me. I’m very thankful for everything but I think meeting you is the one I’m most thankful for.”

The confession might’ve been spawned as she got more tired and sleepy but he thinks that she’s probably wanted to say that for a while.

“I’m here for you, Sera. I’ve been here from the start and I’ll be here till the end.” Jeno reassured and she hugged him tighter with a content sigh.

His promise is only heard by the 4 walls of her room and remembered by the two of them but it signifies a new beginning and the creation of a deeper bond and the only witness was the moon.

And it thought this was beautiful.

a/n: this was lowkey cute but it didnt turn out the way i wanted it to :(

[quitetommy]

sickness and health- even before the big day

so like the ending is trash because i didnt know how to end it and i didnt wanna make it into a series but hope you enjoy!!!! this is doctor!tom!!! so im warning yall that this is all about injury and its loosly based off greys anatomy so if you cant watch that then you probably shouldnt read this but anyways- enjoy

ALSO DONT FORGET TO CHECK OUT MY WRITING CONTEST! ENDS JULY 31!!!!

Tom’s days were long, they went from early mornings until late into the night, when the sun was no longer apart of the equation. Usually, the young doctor’s life was hectic and he could be found running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but today was different. 

Today, Tom found himself sitting back and chilling (for the lack of a better word) with his mates. He knew the unspoken rule of never saying that it was quiet because then all hell would break loose, and to be completely candid, he was perfectly fine with how his day was going, especially for the fact that in 10 short minutes he would be walking outside to join his fiancee. The two hadn’t had a date night in awhile, due to Tom’s crazy schedule, and they were more than happy to take his free night and spend some time together. 

Breaking him from his thoughts, Tom’s buddy, Harrison spoke up, “Hey mate, what’s Y/N got planned for you tonight?”

Tom felt his thin lips stretch into a wide smile, showing off his teeth. “Not sure. She did say something about going to buy groceries for my favorite. We’ll probably just have a night in, which we both are-”

The curly headed boy was cut off when a shout was heard through the small ER. Both Tom’s and Haz’s heads snapped to the man running in. He was covered in blood and he looked beyond scared, he was carrying an almost unconscious girl. And from where Tom and his mate were standing, they couldn’t tell that it was his beloved Y/N. 

“Please, someone help!” His shouts of panic put the two boys into action, Tom sprinting to the man and woman and Harrison running to grab a gurney. Tom had snatched a pair of blue gloves off the counter as he ran over and was now snapping them onto his hands. “Okay sir, everything is going to be alright. Can you tell me what happened?” 

Harrison was now back with the gurney and Tom was taking the injured woman from the man’s arms, still looking at the stranger, he asked again, happy that he answered. 

“I-I don’t know. Some guy-! Think it was a robbery! She wouldn’t give ‘im anything, so he just started beatin’ her and then took off with her wallet.” Tom nodded along to his story, ready to ask the man if he was hurt himself but then his friend called his name, fearfully. 

Turning around, the handsome doctor lost his breath. He felt like he had been punched in the chest. Now that her hair was moved from her face and she wasn’t hunched over in a stranger’s arms, he was able to see who the young girl was- his girl. 

She was staring up at Harrison with wide eyes, she hadn’t seemed to recognize where she was or who she was looking around for someone, probably Tom, and was crying out. It looked like she was having trouble opening her mouth and Tom felt his heart break into two. And with a heavy heart, he yelled out, “We need some help over here, now!!”

Getting Y/N onto the backboard was easy, so was getting the neck brace on her. The hard part was keeping her still- that and keeping Tom at arms length. All of the doctors, even though they were friends, were continuously yelling at him to stay back. He refused, that was his girl, he wasn’t going to just not help her. She would move mountains if she could help him the same way that he was helping her. 

Everyone was talking at once and Tom felt like his brain and throat were being squeezed in a vice. He heard someone say, “Send blood for a crossmatch.” Haz, maybe?

He heard another person say, “Belly is soft!”

And another, “Bruising on the left chest.” Tom was breathing heavily as he watched his girl frantically look around the room. She was still crying, her mouth still clenched shut. “Pulse is down to 88, I’ve got a line going in now.” 

Tom heard the doctor curse loudly, “Her vein is collapsed. I can’t get it in.”

Another doctor answered, “Try a central line.” The doctors working on his pretty girl were talking nonstop and listing off her injuries and with every word, Tom felt his heart break a little more. Leaning over his girl, but staying out of the way of the working doctors, he said, “You’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be fine, alright?” 

More doctors rushed in, each working on their part of the body, and he blocked out all the things they were saying. Tom was grateful that he worked at such a good hospital, that his girl had the best team. The vice around his throat clamped shut when they decided to move Y/N. Her screams were loud and full of obvious pain as they worked on her- moving the poor girl to her side, putting in tubes, cleaning up her wounds, setting bones. With every single thing they did, Tom felt like his heart was going through a meat blender. He couldn’t stand it. 

One of the doctors- a neurosurgeon- asked, “Y/N, honey, I’m gonna need you to move your fingers for me. Can you do that?” When nothing happened, the room seemed to stop, and she asked again, “or- or your toes.” Nothing. It was like she hadn’t even heard the critical request. Tom felt his heart stop when the thought crossed his mind- she couldn’t hear. 

She couldn’t hear anything. 

The brain know-it-all stated this time- no question in her voice. She was demanding. “Come on. Just come on. Wiggle something.” Tom shook his head as he lifted up a heavy hand and snapped next to her ear, and then reached across and did the same to the other. And when nothing happened, when she didn’t respond and just kept on groaning in pain, he said, “Guys.”

When none of the doctors stopped to listen, he said, louder this time, “Guys, I don’t think she can hear us!”

“What?”

“What? Are you sure?” All of the doctors paused their work for a fraction of a second. The heavy hearted boy grabbed a light and started to look in her ears, calling out her name. He was hoping he was wrong, but unfortunately, he was right. There was obvious damage to her eardrums. “She can’t hear anything we’re saying.”

Then everything took a turn for the worst and Tom felt like he was going to throw up. Hsi heart was in his stomach and he was on the verge of a panic attack. The machines that were hooked up to his pretty lady started beeping in wild succession. A doctor concluded, “We are gonna have to intubate.”

Another well trusted man said, “her jaw is locked. There’s no way!”

The head of plastics said, “If I can reduce the swelling, you can get one in.” he paused and looked at Tom, then back to the injured friend, “I’m gonna have to pop her jaw.”

Tom was in hysterics. “No way!”

“I have to! It’s gonna hurt like hell, but I’m sorry, I have to.” And before he knew what was happening, he was being held back as he watched in pure agony. He watched as the doctor placed his thumbs in her mouth as best he could and as Tom fought against his friend that held him to the wall he shut his eyes, not wanting to see her in any more pain. Perhaps that was worse, though, because he could still hear the loud yell of pain that his pretty girl let out and Tom felt nothing but anger. Anger because his girl was hurt and anger because he couldn’t do anything to help her. He was just beyond angry. 

It was only hours later when Tom let himself be in the same room as her. When he finally stepped foot in her private suite he forgot how to breathe again. She looked horrible. She had bruising around her eye, it turning shades of purple and yellow. Her jaw was wired shut and she had a feeding tube going up her nose as well as a bandage wrapped around her whole head. Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach, he spoke, eyes down, “Hey, love.”

With no answer, he looked up to find Y/N looking at him with curious eyes. “Can you hear me?” She stared still, so he sighed and pointed to his ear and she shook her head. The lovesick boy felt his heart drop even further, if that was even possible. Realistically, he knew her hearing would come back and that the bruising would fade and that she would get better, but he was still feeling like he would always remember the feeling of seeing her so hurt. So broken. So defeat. 

He couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. So for now he pulled over a chair and held her hand, comforting her without words, comforting her with all his love. Because that was his job as her future husband.

Taglist; @spider-bitten @bi-writer-in-the-dark @marvelouspottering @quacksin @friendscallme-emily @smexylemony @tom-hollands-eyelash @tomblrholland @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spideymood @positiveparker @positiveparker @procrastinatingparker @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl @Bodakcello @sleepybesson @spideyshcllands @its-the-unknownspidey @tomshufflepuff @aestheticgaybish

[damnrightobsessedwithim]

NEW UPDATE

Im alive. I wish I was not. But I am. Please forgive me for being gone. I don’t know how to say this but imma be straight with y’all because i have no one else to tell. (and please don’t make a big deal about it)

I have major depression.

Depression is not me being lazy, ungrateful or selfish. This is me dealing, sometimes suffering, with depression. This is my demon running its black toxins through my head, poisoning my thoughts and feelings.

Depression is not an emotion, it's an illness.

Depression is a weight that holds me down, always present and demanding of all my time. It is a shadow that looms in the back of my mind, always taunting and jabbing and trying to tear me down. Some days, I just have thicker skin. And then sometimes, I feel like my depression is drowning me. It’s wading in an ocean of poison and I can barely catch my breath before I’m dragged back under. 

From an outsider’s point of view, sure, they would be able to see the positive things going on in your life. However, when depression strikes, for me at least, it feels like a part of my brain has turned off the switch to be able to enjoy things. If it's really bad, I'm unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel with whatever I'm dealing with. I can also feel like a shell of a person sometimes. It's as if my brain has temporarily sucked up my personality and misplaced it somewhere else. I'm there but not there at the same time.

I don't choose depression. My depression is always forcing me to watch its fake "reality" tale about how my life will always be rubbish, dark, etc and how I'm worthless. Sometimes I can fight it off, but other times it can catch me off guard and I believe it for a while. Depression, by the way, is one hell of a liar.

Sometimes I go back to what happened to me , I only see it in black, grey and white.What does it feel like? It feels like a very boring presentation about something I've never been remotely interested in. Then afterward my world is spinning and I have to struggle to get a grasp of what goes on.

Depression is one of the worst things I have ever experienced.

I tried to kill myself....Again....For the 6th time last week. scars are still healing. but i got “help” (if thats what you wanna call it)

I dont wanna blame depression but I am tempted.

But its really because i hate myself. Everything about myself. No one could ever hate me as much as I hate myself. So any mean thing someone’s gonna think of to say about me, I’ve already said to me, about me, probably in the last half hour!!!!!

So I am sorry to those of you waiting for Fic. But I cant Right now. I dont need to get stressed about the writing. it wont help. Or stressed about if yall are even gonna like it. I just need acceptance and people who really want me. Because right now i dont have that and my life is going down fast.

I tried to do what i normally do. But even now for some odd reason not even thinking of Arthur helps. I tried writing myself a letter as Arthur, but i knew it was me and those were my words so no, didnt help.

Sorry to go all emotional on yall but im mad ,sad, all of the above actually. 

[a-ffection]

1-99 🐸

BET YOU THOUGHT I WOULDNT DO IT SCRUB. I tagged this #long post if yall dont want to see it btw sorry

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

According to Spotify Me its 1. Hail to the King - Avenged Sevenfold 2. The Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson 3. Holy Diver - Killswitch Engage 4. Sick Like Me - In This Moment 5. Girls in Black - Airbourne 6. Shrike - Hozier 

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

MY SOULMATE DAMMIT

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

ugh ”Now the bad news, im afraid, is that we won't be home for supper.”

4: What do you think about most?

Money

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“Maybe not” - from you

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

Without8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

Girls are cute; Boys are cute but at what cost?

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Yup

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Idk last week11: Do you have any strange phobias?

Public bathrooms and men with neck or face tattoos

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

When i was younger i used to stick straws up my nose

13: What’s your religion?

Roman Catholic

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Walking the thot

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind, I don't trust most ppl to take pics of me

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Uhhh Avenged Sevenfold probably

17: What was the last lie you told?

idr

18: Do you believe in karma?

Yup

19: What does your URL mean?

It’s pretty self-explanatory 

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Procrastination; Loyalty 

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Currently Henry Cavill 

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

Its on my to-do list

23: How do you vent your anger?

Chores lol

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Mushroom decor, books

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

TEXT

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Happier yes

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Crowds; Nature

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

”what if i tried harder and passed this class the first time around?”

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

YES x2

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Cell phone; cookie

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

Nothing really

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

LA

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

West Coast

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Hozier

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

To impact the world and/or its inhabitants in a positive way. 

36: Define Art.

Art makes you feel some typaway

37: Do you believe in luck?

Yes, only because i have horrible luck

38: What’s the weather like right now?

drizzling

39: What time is it?

6:23pm

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

yes and yes

41: What was the last book you read?

Sea of Strangers by Lang Leav

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yes

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Jaz, Jazzy, princess, noob (curtesy of my bro) 

44: What was the last film you saw?

Ready or Not

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Hairline fracture. Urban Air. Rock wall. Jumped off. Ouch.48: What’s your sexual orientation?

I like boys

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

lmao YES

50: Do you believe in magic?

I believe in portals to other dimensions does that count?

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Yup

52: What is your astrological sign?

Leo

53: Do you save money or spend it?

Both

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

Starbucks

55: Love or lust?

Both

56: In a relationship?

No

57: How many relationships have you had?

idk

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No

59: Where were you yesterday?

Why do you want to know frog boy?

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Dogs collar

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

No

62: What’s your favourite animal?

Owls

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

Be really nice and smiley to them but like in a low cut blouse66: What is your heritage?

Native North American. Mexican, Spaniard 

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Sleeping

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Morningstar

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

I-

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Yess

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog, my boss is a cunt anyway.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

Uhg a) Yes b) Things ive always wanted to do c) Probably 

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Love, since it comes with trust anyway

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Hail to the King

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

6744

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Communication, trust, honesty, time, consideration, maturity, sexual attraction

77: How can I win your heart?

Have these traits: Beard, muscles, weeb, a sweetheart, sense of humor, be Catholic, have a decent career path, give me all the attention

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

yes

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

uhh

80: What size shoes do you wear?

9 in heels; 9.5 in shoes

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

Something that will make goth kids take pictures on my grave

82: What is your favourite word?

Bastard

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

The Sacred Heart cause im catholic and hispanic

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

Bad words and insults

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Old Time Religion - Parker Millsap

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

Teal, Green, Red, Black, and Pink

87: What is your current desktop picture?

A pretty forest

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Id save it for a rainy day

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

”Have you ever watched hentai?”

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Put collars on them and teach them tricks

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Healing - people, the land, etc.

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

dunno

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Ive already did that according to the therapist i had

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Im saving myself for marriage 

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Ireland

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

Yes

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Yes, when i was a kid

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes, to Cali

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Your governments will always consider your freedom a burden