#i wanted to go break glass but theres no way to do that responsibly so this child can suffer ig

[rafeandonlyrafe]

talk to me

words: 800

warnings: addiction, breaking sobriety, drinking/doing drugs, established relationship

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

you can tell from the moment you pick up the phone that something is wrong. rafe’s breathing is so loud that it’s being picked up, coming through your phone speaker.

“rafe, baby?” you ask, but all you here is his panting in response.

“rafe, talk to me. what’s wrong?”

“i’m sorry.” rafes voice is gruff, it sounds like he’s been screaming. 

“sorry? sorry for what rafe? tell me whats wrong.” you plead, feeling tears form in your eyes. you hate being away from rafe, you know that he hates it even more than you, especially now that he’s sober. he used to just get drunk or high the entire time until you were back, but you hated coming back to a strung out rafe, and you knew it wasn’t healthy.

“i’ve been drinking.” rafe says, and you hear the slight slur in his words.

“rafe-” you stand up, already beginning to pack. you don’t need to hear anything else. you know drinking isn’t the worst thing, but for rafe, the drinking will only ever lead to drugs, and he’s been clean for so long “i’m coming home baby. where are you?”

“our house.” he says, and you hear him fumbling with something in the background, and then a crash. it sounds like glass breaking.

“rafey baby, can you go lay down in bed, yeah?” you ask, grabbing your purse and suitcase. you’d text your girlfriends from the car on the way back home to rafe. you thought that he was good enough for you to go on a spa weekend away with the girls. you made sure it was one that was less than an hour away that way you could get home quickly.

“i’m gonna go sit outside.” “okay, i’m heading to the car right now.” you were supposed to head home in the morning anyways, so you have no issue leaving the night before, knowing your girlfriends won’t mind.

“talk to me.” you say as you get in your car, starting it up. “talk to me, rafey.” “i went to the store. i bought whiskey. i fucked up baby, i know that.” “it’s okay, honey.” you swing your car onto the highway, glad that theres no cars so you can speed, praying no cops are sitting hidden.

“and now i’m making you come home because i can’t fucking do it. god, i’m the worst boyfriend.” “not at all, rafey. you make me feel so loved. you take care of me. that’s what you’re meant to do as my boyfriend and that’s what i’m doing for you as your girlfriend. i’m taking care of you.” “i’m so tired.” rafe says. “i just want to do a bump.” “rafe, keep talking.” you say, tears blurring your vision. “i’m coming home to you right now, stay strong for me okay.”

you get rafe to continue talking as you drive home, going at least 20 miles over the speed limit the entire way. you haphazardly park when you get back home, running through the house to find rafe on the balcony. 

“i’m home.” you kneel down in front of him, heart breaking at how spaced out he looks. “i’m home, rafe.” rafe lets out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pitching forward. you shush him gently as he cries, rubbing your hand up and down his back.

“lets go to bed, yeah?” you ask after a moment.

“i hate myself.” rafe mumbles, but accepts your help standing up. you guide him inside, not even worried about shutting the doors behind you, just focused on getting him upstairs and in bed.

“you have to break up with me.” rafe says, feet slowly shuffling down the hallway. “im going to ruin your life-” you ignore his words, blocking out whatever he was saying as you steer him into your bedroom.

“rafe, stop please.” you cut him off from continuing to speak. “i’m not going anywhere. we can talk in the morning when you have a clearer head, okay?”

rafe nods, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your forehead. “i’m so glad you’re home.” “me too.” you press your face into his chest before pulling away to tug the blankets down, watching as rafe flops down, his head immediately lolling to the side. you sit down on the bed, stroking over his hair as you watch for his breathing to change, only standing up when you are sure that he is asleep.

you gather everything on your bedside table that rafe will need in the morning, finishing it off with a tall glass of water. you’ve learned from his previous binges what he needs, you’re just relieved all he did this time was drink.

you finally get to climb into bed, sighing deeply as your head hits the pillow. you move closer to rafe until your body is pressed up against his.

rafe mumbles something you can’t make out and turns, resting his head against your chest. you smile and wrap your arms around him, holding him close, knowing this is what he needs at this moment.

“i love you.” rafe whispers.

“i love you too.” you press a kiss to the top of his head. “i love you and i’m gonna be here for you no matter what, don’t you forget that.”

[pookietv]

aquatic missile | arthurtv

had this idea that i thought was adorable so here

have a little arthur with a crush on a marine biologist !!!!

after arthur had moved to london, finally getting somewhat used to the area he had moved to, he had become slightly socially worn out from seeing his friends much more often, being exposed to many more social situations all whilst trying to unpack and organise his new flat.

so he had decided to abandon his responsibilities for the day to go to the aquarium, which was honestly one of the things he had been looking forward to most when moving to a bigger city then he was used to, the museums, zoos, and aquariums he could finally visit.

he was happy going alone, wanting to unwind, his headphones hanging from his neck, ready to play some music as he strolled through and gawked at all the sea life.

when he walked into the lobby, he noticed the place was quite empty, but it didn't wholly surprise him - it was 11am on a tuesday, most people were probably at work or school, and he had somewhat been glad it was empty.

he walked up to the desk, slightly looking up at the woman at the desk before back down to his feet for a moment.

the worker was quite pretty.

"hi, can i help you?" the woman spoke, in a sweetly helpful way.

"hello, i just wanted to get a ticket?" he said, a little quietly.

"just a one day general admission?" she asked, and he confirmed with a nod of his head.

"yeah, that sounds good to me," he nodded, his eyes slightly crinkling as he offered her a slightly awkward smile.

"have you been before? we have a little leaflet with a map in that might help if you'd like one, you can obviously just wander as you please but if theres specific things you'd like to see, they're all labelled in here," she offered, placing a small blue coloured leaflet on the desk, his fingers gently reaching to take it, nodding gratefully.

"oh, thank you, yeah.. i mean, i love all the sea creatures but i do really like the sharks," he admitted with a small laugh, and she nodded, giggling a little herself.

"oh, me too.. the sharks are my favourite by a mile, i even have a specific favourite shark, they actually let me name her," she smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"no way, really? what did you call her?" he asked, clearly interested.

"a little rogue but i called her missile," she said bashfully, and he laughed.

"that is very cool." he confirmed, and she blushed a little with a nod.

arthur handed her the money for the ticket, taking it from her with a small thanks as he headed his way into the aquarium.

he could easily spend hours in the aquarium, and he did, meandering slowly and stopping at each small fish that he could see, reading all the boards with the facts on, and by the time he had even looked down at his phone he noticed it was already 2pm, and he was approaching the shark section of the aquarium, a grin on his face at the prospect.

he had barely ran into anyone whilst walking through the winding path of the place, and in the shark section he could only see one person in the whole big area, a big glass tunnel, someone hunched over on a bench, eating and watching the sharks on the other side.

he began slowly walking around, his head focussed on looking up at the glass, watching the sharks swim around, even over his head when he was lucky before he heard noise.

"oh, hi again," a small familiar voice said, and he turned to the girl eating, who had lifted her head up - the worker from before.

"hello," he said, smiling a little, "must be very cool to be able to eat here on your lunch break," he joked a bit, and she nodded.

"uh huh, one of my favourite parts of the day, checking on missile... and of course all the other sharks, i love them all. though, feeding time is also pretty cool,"

"feeding them would be so cool," he nodded in confirmation. "which one is missile?" he asked curiously, and she grinned.

"the one that swam over your head before," she laughed slightly, putting down her box of pasta and standing up for a second, slightly closer to him before pointing upwards, at a spotted slightly smaller shark, "that's missile, she's a leopard shark,"

"what about the others? do you know all their names?" he asked, and she nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"that's david, he's a lemon shark... that's haribo, he's a gummy shark, that ones called eve, she's a nurse shark... and the rest are hiding somewhere, but we have hammerheads, angel sharks and cow sharks hiding round here somewhere," she laughed a little, shrugging, "some of them like the attention more then others,"

"so you're really interested in sharks? or is it just a thing where you know a lot from working near them?" arthur asked, and she nodded again.

"i studied marine biology, i usually work more behind the scenes but on quiet days i work behind the desk too, but yeah, i love sharks, and just sea animals on a whole... i mean, i even have a shark tattoo," she giggled. "what about you, you just here to see them or do you have an interest?"

"oh, um, i have an interest in animals in general, and i just moved to london, so i wanted to come see the aquarium 'cause i've never been before," he admitted, and she nodded.

"i do love the aquarium, it's so peaceful, i mean sometimes i come in even on my days off, which in most jobs seems so bizarre but, i don't know, i just love it here."

and that's how arthur ended up frequenting the aquarium more than he intended to, over the past month going at least six times, enjoying the aquarium (and secretly hoping to run into the girl who he had become just a small bit infatuated with but had only admitted that to his close friends, who in turn obviously mocked him)

"you literally don't even know this girls name," george laughed when arthur had admitted he may have had a tiny crush on her after telling them about going to the aquarium for the fourth time in two weeks.

"well, obviously i know that, but i mean, i can't find out unless i see her again, can i?"

"only arthur could go to an aquarium and randomly fall in love with a girl just because she spoke to him about sharks," chris said sarcastically, and arthur rolled his eyes at him, his face red.

"she was cool, okay? she literally gets to name and feed and pet sharks, that is cool!" he defended himself in a splutter of embarrassment, only leading to slightly more giggles

when he next went, and he had paid for his ticket with someone else at the desk, and began his wander around the museum, he heard a slightly teasing voice once in the shark exhibit.

"you know, you could have saved yourself a lot of money if you had just bought a monthly pass," a giggling voice said, and he turned around to her with a slightly red face and a shrug.

"didn't realise i was gonna end up coming so much," he admitted with flushed cheeks.

"just become obsessed with the sharks, eh?" she asked, and he gulped down with another shy nod.

"uh huh. and, um. well, kinda hoping to run into you, also," he acknowledged, only to hear her laugh a little more.

"stalking me now, are you?" she asked, only to make his eyes widen

"no, not like that! just that, you know, i thought you were interesting and that-" she laughed a little harder now,

"i'm just kidding, don't worry about it. you do know there's other ways to see girls you find interesting other then hoping to bump into them at work?" she teased.

"well, that's what i was hoping to ask, you know... if i could maybe see you not in the shark section of the aquarium? like a date?" he asked, fiddling with his fingers a little.

"sure, that sounds nice," she smiled at him, "though, you don't even know my name," she teased.

"well, what is your name?" arthur asked, slight more confidence in his voice and a small smile on his face, slightly reassured that she had said yes.

"whats yours? i mean, for all i know you're some stalker who frequents aquariums looking for victims," she teased, leading him to jokingly roll his eyes.

"my name is arthur, and i promise it was not stalking... just thought you were smart, and pretty, so.. what's your name?"

"suppose you'll have to find that out on the date, hm, arthur?

[taehyunsluvr]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Boy Next Door ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

warnings: sub!soobin, afab!reader, dom!reader, making out, friends to strangers to lovers, nerd!soobin, nicknames (noona, soobie), kinda leg riding?, first time, pervert!soobin, not proofread

a/n: short, kinda a random idea but fits him. We all know he'd he such a boob guy. Theres lore guys theres lore okay trust me

!!MDNI!!

Everyone labels him the "nerd" of the neighborhood because he's kind of the guy everyone uses for homework answers. Your friends, they can be a bit harsh. They sorta.. kinda.. bully him? That sounds realllyyy bad but really all they do is tease him from time to time. For small things like his glasses, the way he dresses, yk the usually things. And yeah, you've laughed along a few times. It felt wrong, but it was worth it to be friends with them.

Though he's always kinda been your friend, secretly. He helped you out with math when you were practically failing, listened to your endless rants about whatever drama was going down at school, and never asked for anything back. Thats just all he was though, always there, kind of like part of the scenery of your life you never really paid much attention to.

Then randomly at school, Soobin comes up to you. He's looks of nervous, which honestly wasn't that weird for him. He purposefully tried to meet you when your friends were getting snacks during your break.

"Y/n," he mutters, "there's something I really need to tell you." You just stare at him. You were kind of annoyed because if your friends saw you they would never shut up about you talking to him. "I like you, more than a friend like. I've felt this way for a while but didn't say anything because I know how it is with your friends..I know you laugh with them, and it's cool but we're graduating soon so I didn't want to miss the opportunity." You didn't really give him an answer. You just stared at him, mouth open slightly and with a confused expression before he walked away.

It pissed you off that he just HAD to tell you. It was awkward as HELLL and now you couldn't even ask him for help with work. And not to mention finals were like in a week. And now you stood in your kitchen, pissed of because your mom told you 5 minutes ahead of time that the Choi's would be coming to your house to have dinner. Was this a joke? Well you wanted to make the best of it. At least you could play around with him for the time you had. You tried slightly with your outfit and makeup, but no too hard. When the door opened and his family entered, you were sitting on the couch. You got up to greet them all, glancing at Soobin. He had his usual black framed glasses on, and a plain outfit.

"Hey you came." You waved slightly to him. He VERY awkwardly waved back, looking at his feet avoiding eye contact. "Mom we'll be in my room." Now this would sound suspicious if it wasn't for the fact that you've known each other since you've worn diapers. You both made your way up your stairs, and into your room. "You can sit on my bed if you want." He nodded silently. "Soo.. anything new with you?" You wanted to talk about something, ANYTHING to break this awkward suffocating feeling. It wasn't just awkward, but you were also still pissed. You weren't pissed at the fact that he abruptly confessed, but more by the fact that he didn't let you give a proper response. He constantly avoided you at school and pretended not to be home when you brought stuff over to his house for his family. Did he think he was alone with his feelings?

"Some people started a rumor at school.." He said breaking the silence again. "They said we're a couple. You raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You sure you didn't start the rumor yourself?" You teased. He looked genuinely bothered. You scoweled. "What? Does it make you that unfomfortable that people think we're dating?" He quickly retorted, "N-no..! I just thought it might make you.. annoyed"

"Ill decide for myself how I feel, thanks, I dont need you deciding that."

"thats not what I meant.. I'm sorry noona.." He said repentually.

"I never even got to respond to you that day. Maybe the rumors would have been true if you let me speak." You said moving slightly closer to him on your bed. He looked confused.

"My answer is I like you too, and I do want to date you. So does that answer suit you? Or were you expecting rejection?" he paused. He felt a bit embarrassed when you so bluntly expressed your feelings to him. He wasn't expecting a positive reaction, so he felt hesitant on if he should speak or stay quite.

"H-huh?" He couldn't tell if you were teasing him or not. "If you're actually serious then why didn't you just tell me then?"

"Because you didn't give me the opportunity to. Well its good we got that out of the way. I'm actually really excited now. We can do tons of fun couple things." She said facing him.

"We-w-what?" The whole mood shifted. A moment ago you guy's were all serious, which was totally out of character for you. Soobin was taken by surprise as you leaned closer. "What 'couple things' are you talking about..?" His voice broke as he spoke.

"we could play around and.." she leaned closer to whisper to him, "I would even.. let you touch them." She leaned back away from him and laughed hysterically while cupping her chest in her hands.

Soobin felt his entire face immideitatly turn red and his heart rate shoot up. He felt like he could die from embarassment as he felt his body heat up because of the teasing. He could only slightly nod. "W-well I guess.. we can do that.."

"Oh so you're admitting to being a pervert?"

"I-it's.. not like that" He said answering quickly. "I'm not.." it was a joke you often said to him before.

"You've thought about it before haven't u? How they felt?"

"W-well.. um.. yeah.. I have thought about it.. but that doesn't make me a perv.." His face flushed even more than before.

"It totally does. But your wish is my command." She took his big hand and placed it on her chest. Soobin immediately felt a sudden warmth on his hand. It was like every nerve was being stimulated, and his breath began to become more heavy as his heart rate increased. You never knew boobs turned guys on this much. Or maybe it was just Soobin..

"You like it right?" You teased.

"W-well, I mean.. they're- they look really soft and I.." He trailed off and he was stuttering profusely. It was already too much for him to handle.

"you're already this flustered from feeling my clothed chest?' He nodded in a mix of shame and embarrassment. His face was completely red now. You wanted to test his limits. You leaned onto him, pressing a soft gentle kiss onto his lips. You just wanted to test the waters. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the unexpected sensation. He hesitated for a moment before slowly parting his plush lips. The kiss became more rough, and you pulled his waist, so once he attempted to pull away, naturally he fell onto his back on your bed. He gasped for air, his body trembling under yours. His hands moved up to your shoulders, trying to push you away but finding it almost impossible to resist. The warm touch of your hand started to spread all around his torso as your fingers began to run over his skin. He let a groan before speaking, "M-Mmph...p-please don't.. dont't stop.." You moved your mouth down to his kneck, slowly trailing kisses down his sensitive skin.

A shiver ran down his spine, and he let out more groans as he tried to hold onto u, not wanting you to stop. You lifted up his plain tee revealing his chest. You brought one of his even more sensitive nipples into your mouth, gently sucking. Soobin let out a soft moan, and he couldn't help but arch his back slightly. You could feel his heartbeat now, and he could feel himself getting harder under your touch. You felt it. It was huge. Wasn't he the nerd everyone asked for homework answers? Why did god give him everything. Looks, brains, and a huge cock. She let out a teasing laugh.

"Somone's excited." She lifted her knee in between his legs.

"M-mhhh..mm n-noona.." His moans became even more intense as you pushed into his hard erection through his sweatpants. He couldn't hold it in anymore. "M-more..please," he managed to whisper between ragged breaths. She gave attention to his swollen nipple while still pushing her knee into him. The sensations were overwhelming. His body trembled. He pressed his hips forward in an attempt to get closer to the sensation you were creating. "Fuck.. I can't take m-more.." His voice strained. "Mm.." He tried to hold back, but as soon as he felt your hand slip down under his sweatpants onto his hardness he couldn't help but make noises of pleasure.

"Shhh.. these walls aren't sound proof soobie." You told him, knowing there was no way anyone downstairs could hear if they couldn't hear your blasting music that you usually played on your speaker. His body tensed up and he felt himself about to climax, his hips bucking forward. "noona I'm- I-" With a suppressed and strained moan he released his seed into his sweatpants, panting heavily as the wave of pleasure washed over him. He took a second to fully come down to realize the situation. His legs still twitching, he felt both incredibly embarrassed and incredibly speechless.

"Oh- by the way I'm sorry for laughing with my friends.. before.." She had a complete 360 in the way she treated him but he didn't even seem to notice-- or care. "I-i don't even care anymore." He said calmly. "Can you grab me a tissue?"

[sadbastard-bug]

Bros before hoes (sorry sophie)

Aka Simon and the reader walk to get donuts to distract Simon from his rejection.

You hadn't heard from Simon in a week, which wasn't exactly normal. A day or two of nothing sure, but a whole seven days of radio silence? Your phone didn't even say he had read the messages you sent. So here you are, a train ride away from home as you stand outside your bestfriends house. You tilt your head as you survey the dead quiet home, theres not a single light on and all the curtains are drawn. Biting back your worries you ascend a short staircase to the porch and hesitantly knock on the glass door. Stepping back you put your hands in your pockets, turning your head skyward as you wait. Theres zero response so you knock again, and again, and again. Each rap against the door more frantic then the last as you genuinely consider breaking in, until eventually you hear it. A shuffling and a very irritated but familiar voice.

Simon looks awful when he opens the door, not looking like he's slept for days and his skin is paler then normal. Theres more stubble then average on his face and his bedhead is so bad you fight the urge to fix it for him the second you notice. You don't realize your stareing until he brings his hand up to his face, clearing his throat. "Why are you here?" It's a easy question but the blunt tone of his voice has you scrambling to explain yourself fast, lest he shut the door in your face.

"You haven't texted or called in days Simon, I got worried something happened to you man."

And with the way hes slumped against the doorframe you do believe something's happened but he does look uninjured at least so you take comfort in that. He doesn't speak for a moment before he sighs and steps back into the house, waving a hand for you to fallow him.

His house is neat, you've come to know his mother is a clean freak who keeps most of the house pristine. Following behind Simon you wordlessly head down the hallway to his room which is the only place his mother doesn't touch. It shows of course, his bed unmade while trash, clothes, and even full plates of food sit around his small room. He doesn't bother to shut the door behind you and instead instantly moves to fall onto his bed, laying on his back completely spread out on the twin sized mattress. Eyeing a plate your pretty sure used to be eggs at some point you quietly move closer to him, stopping right in front of the edge of his bed. Your head tilted as you look down at him, concern clear on your face. "What happened?" The question seems to strike a nerve in your freind and he rolls onto his side to face away from you. His head covered by his hood, though it's clear in his voice he's upset. "I confessed to sophie"

Sophie, right. The third to your trio who you both met in college. A girl who you knew Simon was almost hopelessly into. If it was any other circumstance you would have clapped for him, you certainly never discouraged him from asking her out but not now. Not when it's obvious the girls response wasn't something he was happy about. Biting your cheek you sit beside him on the bed, your backs to eachother as you attempt to give him space without hanging off the mattress. Your afraid to speak even as curiosity eats at your mind. You do want to know exactly how it went but that can be pushed to a later date. When Simon's not curled up in his room like if he gets anymore into himself he'd dissapear. For now you settle for a simple but sympathetic "I'm sorry man"

Not the best thing to say but certainly not the worst. You both sit in deafening silence afterwards, you nervously chewing the insides of your mouth and Simon laying motionless on his side. There's nothing you think would actually help him to hear right now, you know no words of comfort would actually get through his head so you instead go the route of distraction. Clearing your throat you glance over at him "wanna go get donuts?" You honestly thought about suggesting ice cream but that's more of a break up food isn't it? Not exactly for rejection but you do know Simon enjoys sweets so you went for the next thing you could think of. You think he's not going to answer after a while of silence but he eventually shifts, sitting up on his bed as he rubs at his eyes and gives a half hearted nod. You gladly take the confirmation and stand up, brushing off you pants and putting your hands on your hips while you wait for your sluggish freind to pull himself up.

The next thing you know you're both outside his house, you stand off his porch with your skateboard in your arm as he locks the front door behind him. Neither of you own a car so your only option is to walk to the nearest bakery but it's a walk you've done several time by now, years of highschool spent trying to avoid being caught outside by his mom while you both sneak out to satisfy your late night cravings. Once Simon steps off his porch stairs your both off, walking side by side silently in the cold winter air. You wish you had any idea on how to start a conversation but your minds still to concerned with upsetting Simon further so you keep your mouth shut.

About a quarter way into the walk you drop your skateboard to the ground and kick yourself off. Rolling slowly along the sidewalk careful not to move to far ahead of the man your traveling with. It doesn't take long to notice the way he watches you from underneath his hair, his gaze focused on the board. You've tried to teach Simon how to ride multiple times by now but each time ends up with your board several feet away while he sits on the concrete nursing a new injury. You can tell it frustrates him to not be able to get it but you keep trying so once again you slow to a stop, kicking the board up into your hand while you turn your head back to ask "you want to give it a go?"

Simon's eyes drift between your face and the skateboard before he shrugs and steps forward. You smile and return the board to the ground, pushing it towards him and he stops it with his foot. Stepping onto the board he instinctively holds out his arm's to the side, trying to keep balance as the board rolls underneath his feet. He looks like a newborn deer like this, his face scrunched up and his body wobbly not used to the movement of the skateboard while it rolls slowly towards you. Then he leans to far forward, the board almost going out from underneath him and you rush to him with your arms out. The familiar fall never happens however and you eventually register why, your holding his hands as he balances atop the skateboard. You can feel the leather of his gloves warm against your skin and neither of you speak or move for a good second. The board stops still on the sidewalk and you both breath a sigh of relief the air cold enough you can see your exhales. He steps off the board but makes no move to let go of your hands which makes it a bit tricky for him. "You good?" You ask, halfway focused on the way his hands fit in yours. He nods and let's go of one of your hands, only one of them though. You lean down to pick up your board and tuck it under your arm.

You both start walking again completely ignoring the way your still holding onto eachother but it's not awkward. if anything it's the opposite, reminiscent of a time when you two would almost cling to eachother during the winter mornings on your way to school. It's a comfortable thing that spawns a warm feeling in both you're chests. You glance back at him from your peripheral, he's stareing ahead not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable like you expected no, he looks peaceful for the first time in a long while. So you move towards him close to bumping shoulders. This time the silence has shifted to something more normal, something comfortable, Something familiar. A time before college and stress, before sophie and the expected rift between you two when he started crushing on her.

He'll talk about her when hes ready you decide and you'll listen when he does but until then you'll just be quiet, act like kids again. You'll walk hand in hand down an icy sidewalk on a cold day to go get donuts, you'll buy the same kind of donuts you get every time and sit outside the shop on the curb. You'll make a god awful joke about a teacher you both hate and he'll lean forward not to choke as he laughs only to say something even worse in response. You'll drop kick the empty sweets box into the trash and share a cigarette while you head back to his house, laughing the entire time over stupid thoughts in your heads. He won't mention sophie or the confession at all but you won't care, completely okay with being a distraction even if it's for a day. You'll greet his mom later that day as she walks into the home from work and finds you two on the couch watching a bad movie. You'll both help her cook dinner and Simon will actually eat it. You insist on helping wash dishes afterward before you get dragged back to Simon's room where you'll proceed to play video games until your heads are slumped forward and your eyes droop. Simon will pass out first and you'll turn everything off and put it up properly before you eventually fall asleep leaning against the edge of his bed still holding onto his hand, Just like old times.

It's a new thing! I apologize for taking a month to actually post fanfic again after saying I was gonna start writing again but well uh..resident evil and bg3 took up more space in my brain then I thought they would.

This was supposed to be like a hurt/comfort about Simon being sad but somehow it ended up being childhood besties hanging out again, so whoops. Either way it was cute to write dispite my inability to stare at my own writing without tearing my hair out.

;]

[ange1yn]

i know.. thominho week is over but it isnt for me.. yet because ao3 and i are not having a good relationship right now so heres an preview of my thominho week | bookshop au

wc: 1.3K

no warnings ! just cute thominho and... theres alby

-

Thomas groaned, three minutes before closing, no one's in the store, and it's starting to get eerily creepy. He huffed, and decided he'll clean up. The break room is a mess, and no one took responsibility to clean it either. Thomas spends time reorganizing miscellaneous items, that somehow got into the room, and placing them in places they seemed to blend into. With a turn of his wrist, he notices that it's time to close up.

As he happily takes off his badge and throws it into his tote bag, which gets hate from Newt, he gathers his stuff. On his way out, he shuts off the lights, and makes sure nothing seems weird.

A content sigh escaped his lips and he locked the front door. His job here was done. Honestly, he doesn't even know why he does a night shift anyway, he'd want to be lying in bed right now rather than getting ready to go lie in bed.

Right as he turned to walk towards the back door, someone was pounding on the front door, causing Thomas to jump. He mentally swore at himself for jumping, but he walked to go look. Which he knew was a bad idea, but... he checked anyways.

He notices it was a Asian dude, who was pressing his palms against the glass doors. Thomas cringed at the thought of his finger prints on the door. He sighed, disregarding that thought, and flicked on a light that was near.

"Hey!!" He yells through the glass, "Are you still open??"

"I guess we are." Thomas unlocks the lock he just locked. The Asian walked through the door and held unnecessarily long eye contact with Thomas.

"Nice, I'll be quick." The guy winked, and Thomas could have swore his heart skipped a beat. It wasn't like he... was hot or anything, not like he wasn't, but Thomas was just flustered. That's all.

He went straight to the realistic fiction section. Taking a brief minute to look the shelves up and down. The guy came back within four minutes, and set down two books. Thomas took them, and scanned them as fast as he could.

"Total is... 13.67, do you want a bag?" Thomas pushes the books forward, the guy makes a face that's like, "pssh! would I ever ask for a bag?"

Thomas sighs, "I'll take that as a no."

"Read my mind, kid." He takes the books, and says one last thing, "I'll see ya later!"

"Huh...?" Thomas says aloud watching this guy who stormed in, just walk out.

What the hell?

--

He really meant it. The Asian guy is gliding his fingers along the spines of books. Thomas turned immediately on his heels, trying to avoid him, but he was too slow.

"Oh! It's you." He heard his voice from behind him and Thomas turns in defeat.

"Yeah, hey, you didn't back down on your word." Thomas half-heartedly smiled, inching closer because he was about six feet away from him.

"Who do you think I am? Of course I wouldn't back down on my word." He rolls his eyes, causing the both of them to smile.

"Right, my bad, you know, I never caught your name." Thomas spills out, why is he asking for his name right now? Does he want to be close? I mean, he is good looking, and he's funny, he just made him laugh, so...

"It's Minho."

"Minho?" Thomas asks, the name rolling off his tongue, it was perfect.

"Yeah, and you?" Minho's smile curls into a smirk after hearing Thomas say his name, it was weird, but Thomas didn't mind, he looked... so good right now. A black shirt that showed his figure well and a loose fitting pants. His hair was tousled up and swooped a bit to the side, and his skin a honey gold.

"Thomas." He simply replies.

"Of course you got a dorky name, fits you perfectly." Minho laughs, and suddenly claps the back of Thomas's shoulder. He awkwardly laughs too, because what does that mean? Does Thomas look dorky to Minho? Maybe comparing to Minho, then yeah.

"What does that mean?" Thomas grins, he's teasing... but not really, what does it mean..?

"You work at a book store... you and your name kinda fit perfectly." Minho blatantly says and he shrugs, "Oh and I bet you have glasses, not in... a bad way I just see you wearing glasses."

"Is this supposed to be rude?" Thomas laughs, "But, yeah I wear glasses, how'd you know? I'm wearing contacts right now."

"I just know." Minho shrugs again, it's weird, because Thomas has never seen Minho around the city, or in this book store.

"Do you come around here often?" Thomas asks genuinely, but Minho sputters into a laughter, "What?" Thomas can't help but laugh too.

"That's such a stereotypical question, sorry, it caught me off guard." Minho swipes away a tear, and regains his calm nature again.

"So?" Thomas did want to know.

"Yeah, I live around here but, never seen you though."

"You're lying." Thomas scoffed, and crossed his arms.

"Says who?" Minho raised a brow, a smiling growing on his face.

"I literally have been working here... for like ever." Which was a lie, he was second newest.

"Well I'm sorry I don't check out every worker every time I come here." Minho rolled his eyes, sassing Thomas back.

"Thomas! Get over here!" It was Alby, and of course Minho knew him. They shared a brief glance and a smile.

"Damn, looks like we got caught, maybe next time we can go somewhere else excluded from everyone." Minho says once Thomas looks back at him. Thomas felt his face heat, what?

"Oh, really?" Thomas looks at Minho, who's face softens.

"Yeah, if you want, just ask Alby, he'll give you my number, I'll catch you later Tom." Minho grinned and walked past him, going straight to the door like he had no real intention being here. Well, at least he was, Thomas hadn't had a fluid conversation like that in a hot while. It's weird how him and Minho get along so easily.

What was he here for even? He doesn't look like the type of read either. Like the type to lie that he read twenty-five books for his read-a-thon, in a day.

Thomas had to snap back into reality once Minho had left, his presence everlasting on him.

-

"Hey... Alby, you know Minho right?" Thomas sneakily approached Alby when he was on break.

"...Why?" Alby didn't look up, he was busy eating and scrolling on his phone.

"Can I get his number?"

"Did he say that? Normally he doesn't give just anyone his phone number." Alby set down his fork and phone, looking up at Thomas.

"Yeah, he specifically said for you to give it to me." Thomas could feel something was off, but maybe he's just paranoid.

"Sure, give me your phone, I'll type it in." Alby obliged and Thomas mentally cheered, handing him his phone. Alby took a hot minute to type in his number, and when Thomas got his phone back, he exited out of his contacts.

"Did... you do anything weird?" Thomas knew it, he knew something was going on.

"Uh... I think he wants to hang out later." Alby looked away, and went back to his food.

"What? I haven't even texted him." Thomas huffed, "Alby, what'd you do?"

"Nothing! Just wait till he texts you tonight." Alby muttered, and scooted his chair away.

"What if he thinks I'm weird! He already thinks I'm a dork."

Alby turned just a little bit, so Thomas would appear in his peripheral vision. He stared at him like that for a couple of seconds before sighing, "He won't Thomas, I swear."

"On your mom?"

"...Don't bring my mother into this."

-

to be continued!!!... not really until my father unblocks ao3.. i hoped you enjoyed!!

[maygrcnt]

been reflecting on the season a lot recently and on the topic of bucks bisexuality storyline, and i think ive come to the conclusion that theres maybe some catastrphization on the part of people who think the arc is horribly written, but also other people seem to be looking at it through rose tinted glasses and accepting anything given to them just because the storyline was such a long time coming. And i’ve had a hard time with figuring out why both sides of these takes just bother me so much so i sat down with my thoughts while work was slow and i rotated evan buckley in my mind until i had coherent thoughts

When it comes to the self discovery of it all i think that is probably the best thing the show did with the arc. episodes four and five were ultimately huge successes in my opinion on the topic of bisexuality. My main issue with this part of it is not specifically to do with the bi-ness of the storyline but the show in general. The show, showrunner, and Oliver want us to believe this storyline is different, that this is the one that finally changes everything, and I fully believe them in that being their intentions. However, they didnt show that to us well enough. The show has a glaringly cliche formula when it comes to buck and eddie love storylines that i used to think was intentional parallelism but now believe to be a writing rutt that they can't seem to break out of. They meet the partner, they have a romantic moment, something gets in the way of that romance, they meet up at a restaurant to “start over”. Ali, natalia, ana all follow this exactly and taylor sort of. its just tired? And the fact that this is exactly how buck and tommys relationship starts too just makes it so i cant convince myself that this is any different than before. Like i said i truly believe the writers thought they were pulling buck off the hamster wheel and the commentary outside the show tells me that he’s supposed to be doing something new, but they just can't escape their own romance formula enough to actually do it in the TEXT. and one thing about me is i think when it comes to TV, a viewer response lens is the most important way to analyze the story. the intention of the writer doesnt matter as much as the interpretation of the viewer because the average viewer of prime time television isnt reading tim minears interviews or listening to the podcasts oliver stark does, theyre tuning in at 8pm est and tuning out at 9. to conclude on the topic of bucks self discovery arc, i think it was done well. i think this is a general consensus, i feel like most people who think the storyline went sour still believe that episode four was done well at the very least

when it comes to the coming out of it all, this is one spot where i believe there’s some catastrophizing. the storyline had to choose carefully who got the long coming out scenes and i think it’s crazy to say that they chose wrong. do i wish there was a little bit of a longer beat with both hen and bobby about the storyline, yes absolutely. but i don’t think scenes with buck sitting down to formally come out to them would have been either necessary nor in character. bucks strongest canonical ties are to maddie, eddie, and bobby. two of which he never felt the need to come out formally to either by the way. i think a lot of people wanted to see more hesitation and fear from buck about his sexuality, but what they decided to show us instead was a man who realized something new about himself and immediately understood that the people around him were going to love and accept him no matter what. the only slip we see in this confidence is around eddie where… im trying to keep this analysis unbiased by non canon things so im not going to get into what i think of that but… in any sense bucks coming out moments were not about coming out at all but instead always about him being loved by his family. i rate this part of the storyline 10/10 because it all felt so natural and real for someone who has the support system and love that buck does (not saying it isn’t hard to come out even when people are supportive, just that i get why it wasn’t hard for buck). the storyline matched the character really well, but if they were to give the same easy breezy coming out arc to a character with the same backstory as say eddie then i would understand the want for more turbulence.

now the most polarizing part of the storyline for sure is the “established relationship” part of the season i guess you could call it lmao. my personal main complaint here is that we immediately lose any and all insight into the *new* of it all. if you want to make a big deal about this romance storyline being different than the other ones, you actually have to show us on screen what’s DIFFERENT about it. it doesn’t bother me so much on a relationship side of things because the relationship isn’t my personal cup of tea, but i think it would have been nice to see more scenes focused on the reasons this relationship is something new for buck. i’m not a tv writer, i honestly don’t have a suggestion for scenes that could have made this better for me. i think a tone thing is big part of it, if they lightened up tommy’s interactions with buck made him a little more flirty and lively it would have felt truly like a new relationship still in the phase of navigating a new dynamic rather than. well it doesn’t matter what i thought the relationship felt like by the end that’s not the point here. another place i feel like they could have put some more effort in is the bobby of it all, he was very preoccupied but their conversation felt stilted and not actually how i imagine it going. when it comes to the acknowledgment of bisexuality and newfound personal experiences i rate the end of the season: bad. i don’t think this was by virtue of the show not caring or wanting to portray the storyline anymore, but just by virtue of the entire end of the season being… kinda bad.

finally the finale, oh the finale… i swear im trying to come at this as unbiased as i can when i talk about the BT dinner scene but just know that i didn’t like it and that may bleed through. i think it was unfavorable of them to frame this scene the way they did. by having the scene start en media res and having us jump in to the dinner already in progress it feels disingenuous, because now im supposed to believe buck left the hospital, cooked an entire meal, set up a date, started eating and only THEN was the topic of bobby’s health brought up? it feels like this scene was written in a way that it would be for a well established long term couple, not a new relationship we’ve barely seen on screen. in this very scene is the first time tommy even learns what bucks relationship with bobby is like, this is very obviously not a deep connection yet so why are they being given the framework of it? the show is telling us that this relationship has gotten more serious without any proof and i find it very hard to believe them. i think there’s ONE simple change that makes this scene work 100x better and makes me feel like buck is actually settling into the relationship rather than having to take tim minear word for it: just start the scene with buck coming home to tommy! if buck is just getting home from the hospital it doesn’t feel as out of character because there’s less assumed time where buck is for some reason not worried about bobby, which he WOULD be don’t even try to tell me he’s not. and if tommy is already in bucks apartment when he comes home we learn so much about their relationship with such a small gesture. that buck feels comfortable with him there, that tommy feels comfortable alone there, that they spend time there often enough that tommy knows his way around. it just feels like this scene was written in good faith but the forgetfulness by the writers on the overall context of where this scene was in the episode created a strange tone in which i’m supposed to believe evan buckley would ever plan a romantic date night while bobby nash is literally comatose. thoughts on the bisexual storyline in the finale: no. i’m not gonna get into the daddy issues line of it all because that’s a lot more opinion based and it would make this like double length. ask me about it if you want i guess.

all in all, i think there’s … a lot that could have and should have been done differently in order to maximize the goals and effects that tim continuously told us he was trying to achieve. when it comes to carefully telling a story of late life sexuality discovery, i think they did well. when it comes to most other aspects, i think the ball was dropped. pls feel free to send messages or asks regarding this topic because i think im still developing thoughts on it and id love to have conversations regarding :)

[princeanxious]

Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think you’ll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?

So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, i’m not gonna stop them, and i’d probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!

As for ‘taking up the fic,’ the short answer is no.

I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasn’t been abandoned, it’s simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)

I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.

But i’m 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor ‘disabilities’(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.

The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and I’d like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else it’d be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, it’s too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesn’t help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now i’ve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.

I know you didn’t mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. C’mon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. I’ve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and i’m sorry.

I don’t mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish one’s creative work when it’s taking too long and theres very little payback for it. I’ve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isn’t a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasn’t finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.

In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. I’m still trying to get my life together to change that, don’t get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if i’ll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative story’s ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, it’s still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to ‘take up the mantle’ to finish it, when they don’t know how it ends.

I’m glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to finish it for you all. And i just don’t know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.

[fooltomery]

happy weed day to all who celebrate here are my weed opinions

waking and baking is bad for you and i personally will never do that shit <3

smoking a whole bowl is too much.

taking a lot of extra hits after already being high is a one way ticket to fucking up your tolerance. smoke until youre high and let yourself come down

take breaks. dont smoke every day it will fuck you up. also its expensive. i take a week break between sessions at Least

no shame if you smoke out of gas station glass but maybe save up to get that shit replaced

no shame if you smoke out of a tobacco pipe. speaking from personal experience, smoked out of one for 3 yrs. it was a piece of shit too and i still have it

shoutout to people who smoke out of homemade pipes and waterbottle bongs. weed warriors

clean your bong either before or after you smoke. im talking hot water AND isopropyl alcohol and salt. smoking out of a bong that is a even a little bit dirty is not it

clean your glass regularly PLEASE

if you dump your bong water down the sink drain..... dont. outside or tub drain only

coughing is so so so normal ive been smoking for 5 yrs (christ...) and i still cough. sometimes you take too big of a hit

dont put ice in your bong unless you have an ice catch. either way ice in your bong is fucking stupid just refrigerate the water i stg

anything else in a bong besides water is a bad choice

a bong bigger than 9 or 10 inches is doing too much. if you have a bong the size of a didgeridoo you are doing WAYYY too much

exercise. if you smoke exercise. do cardio. especially if you plan on smoking regularly.

no shame if you do or dont do some of these things, theres enough elitism going on in smoking communities anyway. i mean. some of it i do believe is genuine safety and hygiene but. most are opinions. do what you want and what works for you, take what i say or leave it

all in all on this 420. take care of yourselves. smoke responsibly 🍃💛

[kamari3]

i dont know anything about batman or superman because those arent my fandoms but i've seen things and stuff so i have opinions:

superman thinking batman is alone for xmas, inviting him to have it with his family in the country. batman explaining he has alfred and also his adopted kids might show up if he waits grumpily enough. superman saying they can come too theres food enough for everyone

couple years go by before batman trusts superman enough to take him up on his offer. ma and pa kent just so welcoming to this fancy dressed city boy their son brings home and his wad of adoptees and his homemaker dad (they dont really get that Alfred is the butler at first, bruce sure as fuck doesnt treat him like hired help, look bruce got alfred this watch for fathers day and alfred takes really good care of it cuz it means so much to him)

bruce being like, so do they know youre- and clark going, yes they know im superman, but- and ma interrupts with, no hero business at the table, you take that to the barn and bessie, and then all the batkids are like bessie and clark has to give them a tour of the farm and all the animals and i can just imagine one of them complaining that he wants a chicken, why dont we have chickens, we got the space for it! and bruce just facepalming and saying that chickens are a lot of responsibility and need a lot of care and he isnt going to make alfred do all that extra work and the batkid going i gonna get a chicken and name it dinner, and bruce looking at clark like this is all your fault and all clark can do is smile

alfred and ma kent exchanging recipies

bruce twitchy and jumpy at the animal noises you hear all day on the farm but he is the first one to notice the fox on the property going for them chickens. batkids chasing the fox off in a swarm

Bruce gets to see first hand all the domestic little ways kent is kind of a himbo: getting stuck in a hole he makes himself and needing help getting out without breaking anything else; forgetting where this and that are and getting stuff lost in the old house painted in old lead paint cuz he cant see through the all the walls to find his shoes (despite the fact that its much smaller than what he's used to navigating, and its his own family home); ma and pa teasing clark about all the stuff he broke as a kid and look how he'a grown he can wash the dishes without no accidents now, we're so proud of him, and clark being so embarrassed but in that happy way ya do when family teases out of love, and bruce pitches in with all the pencils and pens their clark boi keeps breaking when he spaces out at work

bruce having proof clark is just some guy. he's some guy who wears glasses to see worse so he doesnt outperform all the time cuz he wants to fit in so badly it makes him look stupid

then they have a nice homey dinner and bruce has quiet little feelings about it cuz it brings up memories and fluffies he thought he buried a long time ago, stuffed in a room a little too small for all the family apparently really enjoying being there together

its so easy to make this gay or queerplatonic clark/bruce but it can also be just best friends sharing holiday time and food

you’re twelve years old and you break your father’s hand when he hi-fives you. the first thing you learn is that the smallest slip up can hurt the people you love. your (foster) father smiles and says it’s okay (it’s not). 

your parents are not your parents. the idyllic farming community that raised you is not your home. you’re a You-Don’t-Know-What from You-Don’t-Know-Where. all you know for sure is that you’re not human. 

so you can fly. so you can run fast. so you can lift cars. so what? why do you even have this power? what should you even do with it? 

your father said do what’s right, so that’s what you do. 

you stop a robbery. the man’s knife shatters against your skin and you see the same fear in his eyes that you saw in your father’s when you were twelve. you catch a falling child before it can hit the water. his mother looks at you like you’re a god. 

they love you, even though they don’t know you. the most powerful man in the world hates you because they love you. 

you wanted to write when you were younger. you wanted to tell stories that needed to be told. you never wanted to star in them. you never wanted super-geniuses and demi-goddesses looking to you for advice; like you have any idea how to handle threats to reality itself. you’re just a kid from smallville who’s trying to do the best he can with what he’s given. 

you try and get back to the farm as much as you can. it feels normal being back among the open wheat; where everyone smiles because you’re that nice Kent boy. 

when you were younger, you pretended to fly, hands out to your sides and running through the tall grass by the river. it doesn’t look as beautiful from on high; the details get lost and the colors of your hometown blur together from a mile above ground. 

the problem with flying is that it puts you so far above people you care about

[andromedasummer]

is there seriously nowhere to buy textbooks in person anymore for vic uni?? wow that really is horrible. fuck all the "protestors" and their lingering sentiment. what's your opinion on vic uni as it stands now? i've heard from a lot of people that in recent years it has changed (in a negative way), and even tho the uni wasn't responsible for the protestors, i heard from some people that they weren't so keen on the uni in the aftermath. whether it was due to the proximity to parliament or i also heard the uni's response towards students was basically "tough luck" when their finances and studies were impacted due to the "protestors"

yeah we got emails and the response was straight up "nothing we can do, avoid coming in if you feel threatened" which was like. yeah?? we feel threatened? 12-18 yr old girls at the local high school had to add like 20/30 mins to their commute because if they went past the protests they would be harassed. my 19 yr old coworker was reduced to tears by a man screaming at her at the train station about her mask. she had to come into work using uber to avoid it happening again. she lived over an hour away, it was NOT cheap.

i walked past or through the protestors a lot because i had to go in that way to study, home was too busy and our internet was spotty. i had to get very used to ignoring the shouting. but the public were at boiling point by the end assaults/harassment of the general public had gone up, local businesses being invaded happened more and suddenly people were driving past the protestors throwing milkshakes or yelling at them, which only made them more aggressive.

as for whats up at vic im not sure im the best person to ask. i dont pay attention to too many of the changes and rarely participate in clubs (i did help with classical theater and uniq in my first 2 years)

what i can say is the million dollars spent on the new science centre was useless, as the reason the science department needed a new building was because their lecture halls and labs were too small. the buildings rooms are the exact same size as they were in the other building. so the science faculty are fucked if they want anything for the next decade because "oh well you just got a new building." i dont know why theyve bought that massive bloody abandoned building down the hill and dont see how paying for its destruction is going to help with costs, god knows what they plan on putting there. at least first years will stop breaking in and cutting themselves on broken glass and nails/falling through broken flooring.

i adore pretty much all but one or two lecturers ive had at vic, the good ones are exceptionally good and make attending class a joy. and because nz is so small they know everyone in their subject worth knowing and are happy to make connections with them possible which is a lifesaver. also as someone who restarted their degree cos health problems + changed subjects ive had a LOT of lecturers from psych to classics to media studies to polsci. my main problem is the problem is the treatment of lecturers.

a close friend of mine from high school works as a tutor there and as much as he adores it, every time hes ever gotten his paycheck its because his union pressed vic to send it on time. recently theres been protests by staff for better pay, which i fully support, i even attended some protests because quite frankly for the experience, knowledge and ties these people have they are paid a pittance.

as for the book stores, we have multiple bookstores here but most are secondhand. the ones that arent dont stock textbooks, because the dedicated textbook place for 50+ years has been vicbooks. i dont know who it will fall to. unitybooks maybe? or we'll just have to order online like i said before.

but with the protests, people likely got turned off heading to vic because, ultimately, parliaments down the hill from from it. literally you just gotta walk up the terrace, turn right and then walk another 5 minutes. takes 20 minutes if youre fit enough. getting into uni was near impossible for most people because you had to go through or past the protest camp to get there (unless you were lucky enough to live on the other side of the city and go up the terrace the other side). also, because the main city train station and main city bus station are/were on the other side of the camp, it made confrontation if you used those modes of transport unavoidable.

ultimately the protest is not vics fault, not by a mile. if i were to blame anyone it would be 1. the protestors themselves 2. the police, who, when i walked past on day one, had only sent a cop car and 3 cops to watch over the situation, which is how they managed to pitch all the tents/blockade the traffic/take as much ground as they did. police were woefully, woefully unprepared. 3rd blame goes to the tow companies who all refused to remove the vehicles blocking the street because they were sympathetic to the group that were spraying nazi symbols on the war monument and calling for execution of our politicians. fuck them.

honestly im just glad that its over, even a year on. my dad was coming home when the fighting broke out and he could see them throwing bricks and starting fires a street away and the riot police bearing down on them and using hose. it was incredibly unnerving to watch, esp as i had friends and family working in the buildings around there.

[nixxy-can-draw]

he's baby, your honor

~~~

no reposts or discourse

pls reblog i crave attention

xchara aint mine lmao

i should be finishing my classes not drawing one of my comfort characters aasjg,kufdq,way t ,k qf,u,i

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

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

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

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink at him, frozen in place.

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

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, nobody at the table moves.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

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

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

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stella with owl demon S/O (The finale)

(This is the last chapter in the secret lover mini-series. If your just finding it, go back and read the full series. Its a fairly long story.) Hope you enjoy~

Years of meticulous planning. Manipulation, blackmail and manoeuvring. And all for this one day.

It had almost been a year since Stolas cheated on Stella, almost a year since You and Stella had become a less than secret couple. And today you were going official.

It had been simple getting information on Stolas.

A few cameras here, a tapped phone line there, not to mention half the staff was on your pay roll. They gave you all the information you could need, you taking any information, no matter how minor.

Honestly, Stella coming to you was a pleasant surprise. You did have this grand plan in place, a plan to split the family at its seams.

And in an instant, Stolas' incompetence had saved you months of work. And so Stolas' arrogance, shall be his undoing.

Over the last year, youd had dozens of visits. Spending months carefully prodding the couple, if you could still call them that. You pushed the wedge between them deeper and deeper, all for today.

You strolled into the palace like it were your second home, a small wicker basket hanging from his arm.

Navigating the halls, you found yourself in the palace kitchen, or at least the one the family had used the most.

Grabbing a set of glasses, you turned to find Octavia sitting at the table. 'Octavia, dear, how are you.' You asked, sounding as overjoyed as you felt.

She looked up at you with dead eyes, 'How do I look.' She asked sarcasticly. And honestly, the girl looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

Sitting down you gave her a sympathetic look. 'Fight?' You asked simply.

She just nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

You sighed, placing your hand on hers. 'What about the white noise machine I got you, that help any?' You asked hopefully.

Octavia sighed 'It helped a little, but they both managed to yell over it.' She told you, rubbing her face.

You sighed again, reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a fist sized stone. 'Here' you told her, handing her the stone.

Octavia stared at the stone for several moments, before looking up to you, blinking heavily a few times, 'Uhhhh... thanks?' She said, clearly confused.

You let out a chuckle, resting your head on your hand. 'Your welcome.'

The girl stared at the stone, before looking back at you 'what is it?' She asked simply.

You laughed again, 'Well it was going to be a birthday present, but it would seem you need it more now.'

Picking up the stone you gently tapped its top, a complex Web of symbols growing across it. Tapping it once more the symbols disappeared.

Octavia looked much more interested now, as you explained it to her. 'This bad boy, is what you'd call a noise sponge. When activated, it basically sucks all the noise out of a room.'

Octavia stood up, 'Really?' She asked seemingly excited. With a smile you told her 'See for yourself' you told her before tapping the top of the stone.

Octavias mouth moved, but no noise seemed to leave. She spoke again and again, each time seemingly getting louder and louder, before taking a deep breath.

Her mouth stretched and her body moved as though she were screaming, but there was no sound whatsoever.

Tapping the stone, sound noticably re-entered the room.

Octavia panted, before giggling like... well a school girl. Picking up the stone, you handed it to her.

Octavia stared at the stone, getting up, you followed her. 'Now remember this. That's not a toy. Its a powerful artefact, so don't use it longer than needed, and no sound can be heard when activated, be careful where you use it.'

Octavia just nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the stone. 'Thanks (y/n)' she told you giving a big hug.

'No problem kiddo.' You told her patting her back and planting an affectionate kiss atop her head.

Leaving the room you reflected on your growing friendship with Octavia.

She truly was an amazing young woman, a spitting image of her mother, if a bit cynical. She had a deep fascination for the occult, something you were more than happy to help her explore.

The two of you had actually become pretty close, having talked and met up dozens of times. You acted as a confidant, and a suspected, only friend for the girl.

You didn't like manipulating the girl, but it was quite easy to sour her relationship with her father, you really only had to bring focus to his selfish nature.

Of course, that didn't mean she was running to Stella's side, but her trust in stolas was cracked.

So with some pep in your step, you made your way to Stella's study, giving polite and playful little bows to the palace staff.

Youd worked hard to become beloved by the staff, acting as sort the "good noble" that looked out for them. At least for the ones not ready on your payroll.

You found her study. Giving your outfit a once over you knocked on the door. Stella snapped back, telling you to go away.

You released a bitter-sweet laugh, you opened the door, 'Are you fucking d-' Stella yelled before cutting yourself off.

'Hello darling.' You said calmly. In an instant she got to her feet, rushing over and wrapping you in a hug.

You pulled her into a kiss, locking the two into a passionate embrace. Breaking the kiss, you asked her tenderly 'How are you doing, my love?'

You'd gotten very good at telling when Stella was upset and when she was trying to hide it, and now she was certainly upset.

'How am I doing? Oh you know, I've had to deal with my slut of a husband and that... fucking Imp! For months now.' She growled, taking several heavy breaths before turning back to you. 'Other then that, I'm fine.'

You gave her a sympathetic smile, before remembering why you were here. 'Well, then I have just the thing.' You told her, giving the basket a little shake.

You pulled her towards the door, Stella resisting. 'Lets go play' you tell her playfully.

'No, I can't' she tells you, resisting your pull 'I have to much work to do.' She said clearly upset at the reality of royal responsibility.

Pulling her close, you looked her in the eyes before firmly telling her 'Do you trust me?' You asked her sternly.

That seemed to surprise her, before she just nodded her head. 'Then we should do this... trust me'

Stella conceded, letting you lead her out of the palace.

Walking out the back of the palace, you passed the field she had once burnt to ash, now regrown into a healthy and lush lawn.

Taking her into the clearing, you layed out the blanket you'd brought in the basket.

Sitting down, you pulled out the bottle of wine. Pulling the cork, you poured you both a glass. Sitting there you both fell silent, a weight hanging over your head.

You turned to her, looking deep into her eyes, you told her calmly. 'Stella, theres nothing in this world I love more then you...' taking your hand, you placed a kiss atop it.

'I'm sorry... I'm sorry I was never good enough for you...' you told her, emotion growing in your voice.

She looked deeply concerned, asking you 'what do you mean?'

You shook your head. 'The truth is. All I've ever wanted was to be with you...' you looked at your hands, 'I had such plans to Get you back, to prove I deserved you. But stolas seems to have ruined everything... You deserve better and I'm going to give it to you.' You looked up at her, 'I love you Stella.'

Looking at Stella, she looked distraught, teary eyed as she pulled you close. 'I love you too (Y/N).' There was a long pause before she whispered in your ear, 'I wish I had been with you... all those years ago'

Her words put everything together, a wave of determination flowing through you. With your purpose secured, you pulled her into a passionate kiss.

The two of you became more physical, your hands roaming her body. Stella's arms wrapped around your neck. You becaming more passionate, Stella matching your energy at every step.

It was as you undid the back of her dress that you heard it... he was here.

Giving her another kiss you asked her, 'Do you trust me?' Your breathing still raged.

It took a moment, but Stella responded 'Yes, Yes I trust you...' With that you kiss her again, carefully readjusting her dress.

It took another moment, but you heard him. 'Well, well, what do we have here?' The voice was cold, clearly unhappy.

Breaking the kiss, you looked up to find a very angry looking Stolas staring down at you.

You carefully pushed Stella off, giving her a more innocent kiss on her cheek. 'Go play somewhere.' You whispered, standing up.

You turned to face Stolas. The prince was absolutely livid, tapping his fingers on his forearm.

'Stolas! My what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?' That was a lie. You specifically picked this spot, at this time because you knew he would see the two of you.

All according to plan.

Stolas spat back, 'Don't talk to me like that you bastard. Trying to fuck my wife. In my own home, do you have no shame.'

You couldn't help but begin laughing. You gripped your legs, laughing so hard it was hard to breath.

Straightening up you looked at Stolas, allowing years of venom to show. 'Shame?' You asked incredulously, 'Your asking me if I have shame?' You chuckled again. 'Pot meet kettle.' You spat at him

Dusted yourself off. 'Shame...?' You spat, through gritted teeth. 'Youre asking me if I have shame? You speak of your lust before your child. Plastering the hellnet with your lust for that satan-damned Imp, Fucking that Hellspawn in the bed, you shared with your Wife. You know nothing of shame, you harlot!' You finished almost screaming.

Stolas grit his teeth, his hands dropping to his side. The weather began to shift.

The once clear sky quickly being replaced with a ocean of grey clouds.

'You think you can take my wife?' He asked seriously. Your smile grew, taking a few steps towards him, smugness growing across your face. 'Think? My good man... I already have.' you tell him simply.

With a flick of his claw Stolas manifested his Grimoire.

In a flash you reached into your coat, pulling out a silver lock and throwing it at the Grimoire.

Almost immediately on impact, dozens of silver vines shot out, wrapping around the book.

Stolas, initially shocked tried to open the book, the lock on its cover not budging against his grip.

He looked up at you, pissed and clearly expecting 'That little item,' you began 'ensures that your little book won't affect the outcome of our little fight, Stolas.'

You smirk at him 'Now' you began 'you'll just have to fight me like a man.'

Stolas seemed both concerned and enraged by this, throwing the book to the side. 'You think I'm scared of you?'

He reached for his cloak, dramatically throwing it to the side.

You just chuckled, cracking your knuckles, the demonic Prince charged, swinging at you.

You easily dodged.

'My, how impressive!' you said, mockingly.

Stolas swung again, and again, missing each time. 'Come on I don't have all day!' You called at him smugly.

Stolas went for a violent haymaker, missing again. This time you retaliated with a hard punch to his nose, hearing a crack apon your fist meeting his face.

He stumbled back, blood dripped from his nose as you taunted him further.

'You know I had such an elaberate plan, Stolas.' You told him, taking out a shiny set of knuckle dusters from back pocket. 'I had every step perfectly worked out, all to turn your family against you.'

Stolas, became enraged, blindly charging at you. You easily dodgeing him, giving him a violent crack to his face.

'And then you, you fool... you did most of the job for me... half my plan, unneeded because you were a selfish, arrogant fool.'

Stolas made it to his feet, his left eye already swelling. He widened his eyes, likely intending to turn you to stone, but before he could, you reached into your pocket and threw a handful of dust at him.

The silver dust shone as it flew through the air, his reaction was instant. Falling to his knees clutching his face.

You chuckled, leaning on your knees for a second, 'When Judas betrayed jesus.' You began.

'He received 30 pieces of silver, as such its toxic to demons. And now it's your payment for all suffering you've put your family through.' You told him, blankly, no emotion in your voice.

'Years, Stolas. I've been preparing for this fight for years. I've played this moments out hundreds, thousands of times. Nothing you can do I havent prepared for.' You wiped your lip, standing up straight. 'Your going to lose.'

You were taunting him now, relishing seeing him suffer.

Reaching down, you grabbed his hair, pulling him up. It was as you were about to taunt him again that you were suddenly punched in the face.

Stumbling back, you found stolas getting to his feet. Wiping his eyes he glared at you, 'You think I'm some push over? I'm a prince! I am a Goetia, I'm not gonna be taken down by some retched lowborne.' He screeched, raising his fists.

You just smiled back, wiping your cheek 'Finally... a real fight.'

The fight was a brutal, Stolas, despite his lanky figure and privileged upbringing, could pack one hell of a punch.

But you were prepared for this.

For every hit Stolas landed, you hit him twice. Every use of magic was thwarted with an item or counter spell. You were almost perfectly matched.

Almost.

You stood across from each other, fists bloody, clothes filthy and torn, bruised and battered.

Still a smile adorned your face. Chuckling, you began 'you've put up one hell of a fight, Stolas.' You said as though remembering something. 'But even if you beat me, I still win!' You told him smugly.

Stolas cocked his brow, 'what are you going on about.' You smiled again, before reaching into your jacket before you pulling out a long white feather.

'Stella, your uh, "wife"...'you ran the feathered across your nose, taking in her lingering scent. 'We've been fucking for the past year now.' You chuckled again 'we fucked everywhere, her study... your bed, and man... can she scream.'

That set him off, he charged you, releasing a desperate a d furious, battle cry, swinging like a mad man.

You dodged the swing, and with one final uppercut the demon Prince stumbled back. He looked at you shocked, before smacking into the ground.

You couldn't help but laugh. The piece of shit fell like a sack of rocks.

Turning around you found a very concerned Stella. With a smile you walked towards her, stumbling over your battered legs.

Stella ran to your side, helping you keep up right.

You chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. 'I have something for you.' You told her, your voice course and worn.

Reaching into your coat, you pulled out a small black case.

Breaking her grip, you stepped back and fell to your knee.

Taking several deep breaths you began, 'Stella. You are my light in the darkness, the love of my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you.'

Opening the case, you showed the sparkling diamond ring. 'Stella, my love. Will you marry me.'

Stella looked shocked, tears coming to her eyes as she covered her mouth.

It took a moment, but she nodded her head, 'Yes... yes I'll marry you.' She said, her voice thick with emotion.

You just smiled.

Everything was perfect.

Just as you planned.

[peachiimilquetea]

something angsty with tenya leaving fem reader for the event? ty! prompt: “you can’t leave me. i don’t know how to survive without you.”

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” + tenya iida

a/n: bro… i don’t really like angst without the potential for a somewhat happy ending so i hope you’re ok with the fact that it’s not completely sad. i did pull on the heartstrings quite a bit tho, i hope you enjoy! check out the event here

contains: angst (obviously), iida being heavily influenced by his family, tensei to the rescue lowkey, crying, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, ambiguous ending, miscommunication

length: 2.0k

at first things had started off small.

iida worked long hours as the work of his brother’s hero agency fell on his shoulders. he tried his best to make time for you, but it always felt like your schedules could never line up just right.

you tried to work something out, quick calls on break times and cute messages around the house to remind you of one another, but most efforts fell flat.

then things started to get worse.

long and empty nights were spent building up resentment towards the man you had married. he was always doing something, something that took precedence over the vows you made when you walked down the isle no more than three years ago.

you knew his family didn’t like you that much, feeling that a marriage for love was a waste of such a powerful commitment. a commitment that could built them an empire, and boost the rank of their hero agency, solidifying a legacy for them.

tenya defied them for you, boldly declaring that he would marry whoever he wanted and that you were in it for the long haul. you were the girl of his dreams, he said, and anything that got in the way of his happiness was not something he would subscribe to. that only made them hate you more.

so when his texts of encouragement grew shorter and more sparse, and he began to have more special responsibilities bestowed upon him by none other than his father, you knew it was on purpose.

unfortunately, it was an effective strategy to chip away at a young and unseasoned marriage.

“tenya can you please just check your schedule? i really want to spend more time with you.”

he sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat in his office. why were you bothering him with something so insignificant? you knew how important this transition of power was for the iida family, for the legacy of ingenium, but you still persisted.

he could feel the anger beginning to build until he looked in your eyes and saw the sadness brimming in them. his heart squeezed in his chest as he watched you, his wife, plead with him to spend time together. when had things come to this?

“i’ll try my best, but i cant promise anything.”

at this point, that was better than anything you could’ve hoped for.

with a kiss to his forehead you left him alone to get the heaps of paperwork he had to do, spirits lifted at the prospect of spending time with him again. just like the way it used to be.

you checked the time on the microwave for the 9th time. fifty-seven minutes had passed and your husband was officially late.

you should have seen it coming really, empty promises were becoming more and more common amongst the two of you. he would promise to try harder and you would promise to cut him more slack, the constant push and pull never being enough for either party.

getting up from the barstool at your kitchen island you made your way to the wine cooler to get a drink. not even bothering to pick up a glass you slumped on the couch, kicking off your shoes and splaying yourself out, just wanting the cushions to swallow you whole and dull the aching in your heart.

he wasn’t coming.

he was never coming.

you laid passed out on the couch when iida finally came home 2 hours later. he was only stopping by for a quick break, then going back out on patrol and he completely forgot about the things he said, smiling through tired eyes as he thought, this time i’ll make it up to her.

at the very least he could clean you up and tuck you in. he could brace himself for the impending fight later, but he was concerned about you. you never drank, not unless there was something wrong.

iida easily hoisted you up over his shoulder, discarding the various wine bottles and taking you to your shared room, although he wasn't sure if it was still considered shared anymore.

he laid you on the bed softly, changing you into one of his old shirts. his fingers ghosted over your cheek as he watched you sleep, the reality of where he was sitting heavy on his heart.

he loved you and yet there was nothing he could do to help at this moment. he had to leave for night patrol. he had to leave you.

his gentle touches roused you from your sleep and your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink them open.

“you came?” you breathed, voice sounding foreign even to yourself.

iida gave you a small smile, “im sorry.”

your demeanor did a 180 at his apology. he was sorry. he was always sorry. but sorry couldn’t fix this. not when it had been so broken.

you winced and sat up, “sorry for what? sorry that you broke your promise for the thousandth time or sorry that you’ve been such a shit husband for the past few months?!”

“______-”

“no tenya. you do this every single time! every time i want to spend time with you theres always something more important! what could be more important than your wife?!”

“______ you know my father-”

you laughed bitterly at the mention of his dad. he always had to be such a good little iida child, always on daddy’s beck and call. it made you sick.

“your father doesn’t even want us to be together! cant you see that he’s doing this on purpose! youre a grown man! not a child permanently tied to his mommy and daddy!” you spat

“hes giving more responsibility for the sake of the agency! for the ingenium legacy! why are you always so selfish when it comes to these things?”

“selfish? selfish?” you asked, incredulous. you couldn’t believe your ears.

“yes selfish. do you know how much i sacrificed to be with you? how much i already have on my plate on top of trying my best to make time for you?”

you stared in astonishment.

sacrifice?

what had he sacrificed for this relationship? he got to do what he wanted, come and go as he pleased with virtually no regard for how you felt or what you did. what sacrifice was there in that way of living?

“fuck you, tenya.”

tenya took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. he chose his words carefully before finally saying, “i cant do this. im leaving.”

you could hear a pin drop in the room. you felt your blood pound in your ears as you stood up quickly, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to process the words you had just heard.

leaving?

“youre leaving?”

“yes, i have to go. im not doing this with you, not now.”

your heart felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer, as you tried to regulate your breathing. leaving. he was leaving.

“w-wait,” you feebly attempted to cling onto him as he gathered a few of his things.

“tenya you cant leave me.”

“_____ i do not want to do this right now,” he sighed, easily shaking you off and moving to collect more things. his words were buzzing around on the inside of your skull. he was leaving.

leaving without so much of a second thought. he had been planning this. still unsteady on your feet you hobbled after him as quickly as possible, desperation taking over every fiber of your body. you didn't want to lose him, you just wanted your husband back, you happiness back.

“y-you cant do that! you cant leave me! i dont know how to survive without you, tenya, please-”

“_____, just go to bed. you’re drunk.”

you trailed him around the house,“no, you don’t get to decide when this is over. i'm the one whos been hurting for months you cannot just leave me by myself.”

iida spared you one last glance before grabbing his bag, “goodbye, _____”

crushed, you sank to your knees, leaning on the couch for support. you felt like you were dying., hell, you probably were dying. you had never had so much to drink in your life, and you were desperate to make the pounding pain in your chest stop.

you cried yourself to sleep that night, waking up to the sunlight coming through the window with a splitting headache. you felt like your skull was trying to crack itself open from the inside but you shakily got to your feet, remembering bits and pieces from your fight with iida.

you could tell he didn't come home last night; everything was exactly the way you had left it last night. the house alarm was still on, and his shoes were gone.

he actually left.

anger bubbled in your chest as you thought about what had actually happened. you would not let him get the last laugh, or be the last one left, the one waiting on him patiently to pick up the pieces after trying to keep it together. you would leave too, as much as it hurt, and show him just how selfish you could be.

in a flash, you haphazardly packed a bag with essentials and had texted your friends that you needed a place to stay for a few days. you didn’t get into specifics- your heart ached too much to relive the events of the previous night- but you told them you had reached your limit and you needed to take some time to cool off.

alternatively, iida did not sleep that night. after finishing patrols, he stayed at his brother’s apartment out of pure convenience, not feeling prepared to face you after everything that had transpired between the two of you.

the dark-haired man laid staring at the ceiling of tensei’s guest bedroom, wracking his brain and trying to pinpoint how things had gone south so fast. he wanted to fix things, but really didn’t know how. he couldn’t even tell you what was broken, let alone how to begin to fix them.

his brother had tried to give him advice after listening to the entire story, but there was only so much he could do. he knew that you were right, their father was keeping him from you on purpose, slowly making tenya think that he was in the right in an attempt to break you up, but he couldn't be the one to tell him.

tenya had to come to that conclusion himself. he needed to be the one to set boundaries and save your relationship, but from the looks of it, soon any attempts would be futile.

“_____? darling?” iida called as he came into your home. immediately noticing your missing shoes, he moved to the bedroom in a flash, checking to see if you had just moved them or something.

the room was a mess, drawers left open and clothing strewn across the bed and floor. the bathroom had been cleared of almost all your essentials, and a note was left on the dresser. gingerly, iida picked it up and read it, offering up a silent prayer that it didn't say what he thought it did.

i don't know when you'll see this, or if you ever will. if you're reading it, that means you came back home but you will not find me there.

im tired, tenya.

im tired of always being the one to extend the olive branch or bend over backwards for you.

i refuse to be in that position any longer. i love you… i love you so much it hurts sometimes because i know this isn't the way things were supposed to be. but you left, and so i decided to leave too.

if a way to fix things exists, i want us to find it, but right now i need some time to reevaluate us and what that means. i hope you understand, i know you will.

if you want to reach out, im open to talking about this further, but for right now i need to think.

goodbye.

--------

[3rensgf]

rent a gf - two eren yeager x reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of sex, talks about "getting bitches", eren is an idiot, fuckboy!eren implied, tatbilb mention, uhh fluff idk theres not much to warn abt in here, not beta read

notes: chapter two is out! i'm really glad a lot of people are enjoying rent a gf. it really means a lot! i see some people commented on the previous chapter, and i would love to reply to them, but i'm not familiar with tumblrs commenting system D: if you wanna leave a comment for me to just read, that's fine you can still keep commenting here on tumblr. but if you would like me to reply to it, you can comment on ao3, and i will reply! happy reading :) p.s, waffles w whipped cream r so much better

[ read on ao3 ]

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In the early hours of Saturday morning, you felt a hand shaking your shoulder to wake you. Groaning and mumbling, you sleepily swatted the hand away and pulled the covers over your head. No one should be forced to wake up early on the weekends. It was Saturday, for fucks sake. Not to mention your hangover due to last nights mistakes was making your head throb.

The hand rested on your shoulder once more, shaking you gently. “(Y/N),” Mikasa said softly. “Your alarm has been going off for the past 10 minutes. Wake up. I have water and Advil.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned, snuggling deeper into your bed. “Don’ wanna.”

Mikasa stopped bothering you for a moment, and you let your guard down. Finally you could sleep. When it was time to wake up, you’d wake up.

Right as you were about to pass out again, your blanket was roughly tugged off of you. “Mikasaaa!” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “What was that for? I was trying to sleep.”

“Get up. You have to shower and get ready for lunch with Eren today. Breakfast is almost finished,” she explained, setting down the pills and water on your bedside table. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face so you can eat. Now,” she instructed sternly, moving to your window to open the curtains. The bright sunlight hit your still half-asleep face, making you hiss quietly.

She left the room moments after, probably to check up on breakfast. Honestly, you didn’t know how she could function this early in the morning despite having partied all night last night. Curse her and her inability to get hungover.

Grumbling to yourself, you adjusted your sleep clothes that had gotten disheveled overnight to make sure you looked decent. Your sleepy gaze wandered over to your nightstand to see two Advils on a napkin beside a glass of cold water. Thanking every higher power for sending Mikasa to you, you downed both pills and the glass of water. Even though you might bitch and moan to her constantly, you really weren’t lying when you said you’d die without Mikasa.

After sitting down at the edge of your bed for a few moments, you eventually shuffled into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your morning routine. It took longer than usual thanks to your sluggish and tired movements, but you got done nevertheless.

A wonderful aroma came from the kitchen when you left, stomach grumbling in anticipation for the wonderful food you were about to scarf down. Mikasa was in the process of setting down both your breakfasts on the island, sitting down on the stools when you walked in. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, resting her chin on her hands.

“Morning, sweet angel,” you replied, sitting at the stool beside her. In front of you was a plate of Funfetti pancakes with whipped cream instead of maple syrup (syrup was for pancakes only). There were a couple of cut up fruits beside them, too. “Where did you get these?” you asked, picking up your fork to take a bite of your breakfast.

Mikasa dug into her own breakfast of oatmeal as soon as you started eating. “Went grocery shopping and saw the mix in the baking aisle. I thought you’d like it,” she explained, taking a bite of her food. “Good?”

Your response was a moan, tilting your head back as you chewed. “Insanely,” you said, cutting up another bite. You stabbed the piece with your fork and guided it to Mikasa, keeping your hand under it to catch anything if it dropped.

She finished her bite and leaned in to take the bite, humming in satisfaction at the taste. “Good,” she nodded.

“They put like crack ‘n this shit,” you said through a full mouth, shoveling forkful after forkful into your mouth.

You could feel Mikasa's judging gaze for eating like a pig, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was eating these crack laced waffles as greedily as possible. “What time are you supposed to meet Eren today?” she asked to make conversation.

You remember drunkenly slurring to her that Eren was supposed to take you out for lunch today while she was trying to put you to bed. All she did was nod and dodge your flailing limbs while she tried to change you into your night clothes.

“Uhhh,” you trailed off, “I dunno actually. I think he’s gonna text me when.” The familiar notification from your phone indicated you had a text from Eren. “Right now.”

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:04 AM picking u up at 12 dont be late

you - 9:04 AM k

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:05 AM dont use k with me that makes me sad :(

you - 9:05 AM k

“He says 12,” you told Mikasa, setting your phone back down on the table. You went to go take another bite of your waffles, only to be met with stray bits of whipped cream and waffle crumbs. How disappointing.

“You have time to get ready then,” she said, finishing up the last bit of her own breakfast. Holding her plate, she got up to go put it in the sink, taking your plate for you as well. Literally an angel.

Suddenly, she leaned in to sniff you like the weird English professor you had your freshman year and cringed. “You’re gonna need all the time you can get. You stink.”

Never mind, not an angel.

Grumbling and cursing under your breath, you got off the stool to go take a shower. “And here I was about to offer to get you something for lunch while I was out.”

“A burger from the joint I like would be nice. So would a Coke and side of onion rings.”

“Size?”

“Medium for both.”

You would’ve caved in and bought her something, anyways. Might as well know what she wanted in the first place.

Showering took longer than expected. Most of your time got wasted by you standing under the shower stream and soaking in all the warmth. It wasn’t until Mikasa knocked on the door asking you not to use up all the hot water that made you actually start going through your routine.

The clock read 10:09 when you got out. You still had more time to kill until Eren came, so you elected to sit on your bed in your towel to scroll through social media. At 10:45, you started to get ready for real now.

Your makeup was just enough to cover any imperfections on your face, and your outfit cute enough for a lunch outing with your friend-fuckbuddy.

At 11:50, you stepped out into the living room with your belongings in hand to lounge around while you waited for Eren. You would’ve gone to bug Mikasa, but she had just stepped into the shower minutes prior.

12 on the dot, a rhythmic knocking was rapped on your door, meaning Eren was finally here. Skipping over to the door, you opened it to reveal him while slipping on your shoes.

“Hey,” he grinned when the door opened. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips after you’d straightened up from putting on your shoes.

A grin found its way on your lips during the kiss. It only lasted a couple of seconds, ending with you pulling away with a quiet smack. “Hi,” you greeted back.

“Ready to go?” he asked, one hand leaving his jacket pocket to jut his thumb down the hallway towards the elevators.

“Yup, ready,” you said. Over your shoulder, you yelled into the apartment to say goodbye to Mikasa and locking the door once you closed. “Okay, ready for real now.”

There was a new hot pot restaurant near campus, Eren told you, that he so desperately wanted to try. He overheard some people talking about the place in his Stats class, and he’s been wanting to go ever since.

“So, about what I told you last night,” he said, leaning on the table close to you after giving your orders to the waitress. “You said you would help me get Mina.”

“I said it was a bad idea,” you countered, taking a sip of your drink.

“But you said you would help me. For a price.”

“That I… did say,” you sighed. “What’s your plan?”

Smiling, he opened up his jacket and dug into the inner pockets, getting out a small notepad and a pen. Your eyebrows raised at the sight of them. “Okay,” he started, flipping through his notepad. “So I was thinking about it this morning, and this is what I have down so far.”

Sliding it towards you, he waited impatiently for you to read what he had.

Your lips pursed to prevent giggled from leaving your lips. Well, it was a plan, alright. Written in Eren’s chicken scratch of handwriting were a few very simple steps.

eren yaegers fool proof plan to get bitches get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. talk to mina to get her interested in you ✓ 2. get hot girl ((Y/N)) to pretend to be your gf and show you can be a good bf 3. get mina jealous so she wants you even more and not poopy thomas wanker 4. “break up” with (Y/N) and pretend to be sad 5. get mina to comfort you 6. get bitches make mina your gf 7. pay (Y/N) for her services 8. ta-da!

When you looked up from the notepad, you saw Eren waiting for your answer. “Well? What do you think? Is it any good?” he asked.

“Were you high when you wrote this?” was the first thing you asked him. Eren shook his head innocently. “You’re 100% serious?” He nodded.

You bit your lip, deep in thought about Eren’s supposedly fool proof plan. “What makes you think it’s gonna work?”

“I know girls and how they act. If Paradis University let me major in women -- don’t get smart with me I don’t mean Women Studies -- I would be passing all my classes with flying colors. I know it’ll work, trust me,” he said cockily, leaning back in his chair.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. I know you. I know everything about you, (Y/N). I even know how to make you scream my name in--”

“Okay!” you cut him off, not wanting the strangers around you to know the intimate details of your sex life with Eren. “Okay.”

“I knew you were gonna do that. See, I do know women.”

A moment or two passed, both of you staring at each other. You with a deadpan expression, and him with a proud one. You were the first one to break the silence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, say I agree to this. What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “Within reason, of course. Please don’t ask me to like, hide a body or something.”

Ignoring his last comment, you continued speaking, “You’re not allowed to back out of whatever I ask you to, right? If this plan fails or succeeds, you still owe me whatever you promised.”

Eren nodded. “Of course. I swear on it.” He shifted a little so his elbow was on the table, holding out a pinky. Instinctively, you held out your pinky as well and intertwined the both of them. Pinky promises were something you and Eren had been doing for years now. It meant that the other was dead serious on their promise.

The waitress came back with your broth and dipping ingredients, setting them on the table for you right when your pinkes left each other. Thanking the waitress, the two of you talked some more while you waited for the broth to heat up.

“We should make it official. With a contract and set of rules,” he said. “Like that one movie you forced me to watch with you. The Boys I Loved or some shit like that.”

“To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before,” you corrected.

“Yeah, that. They’re kinda doing something like us, yeah?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, picking up your chopsticks and a sice of pork belly when the broth started to boil. “After we eat though.”

Idle chatter was shared between the two of you as you ate. Even though you saw each other nearly every day, you never ran out of things to talk to. You could be talking about complete nonsense or how quantum physics made no sense, and you would still have the best time of your life.

By now, the broth had been drunk up and the table had been cleared out to be replaced with banana milk and ice cream. Eren brought out his notepad again to write down the set of rules for your fake relationship while enjoying your desserts.

Good progress had been written so far on the notepad. Both of you had given input and criticism on each rule made. In the end, you finally had a good set of rules written down.

(Y/N) and erens contract and rules for eren yaegers fool proof plan to get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. act normally. eren and (Y/N) act like a couple already. just double the pda a little more 2. don’t tell anyone about the deal. the more people who believe in the relationship, the more likely it is for the plan to work 3. post each other on ig a lot. maybe add names and a date to bios to make it more believable 4. date night every saturday (go out or just hang out) 5. go to parties together 6. walk each other to class if you can 7. call each other cute pet names 8. after breaking up, the couple act has to stop including the sex 9. DON’T SLIP UP

payment for (Y/N):

Eren tapped a beat on the notepad, reading “payment” over and over again. Eventually he looked up at you, deep in thought. “Have you thought of anything so far?” he asked, clicking the pen to write what you wanted.

This was a tough decision. Eren was ready to give you anything to help him get Mina. You had to be wise and pick something big to take advantage of him. Something you were sure you wouldn’t ever regret getting.

“How about,” you started, trailing off, “you do my laundry for the rest of our time at ParadisU, buy me lunch every Wednesday even after we break up, recommend that godsend of a tutor you keep gatekeeping to help me too, and…”

“And?” Eren asked, looking up from his writing, waiting for your next words.

“All the orgasms I want during our relationship,” you finished, satisfied with what you chose.

“Is that all?” he asked, writing down the last of your words. “That’s a lot.”

“How about I let you know if I wanna add more,” you said. Eren nodded in response. His head hung to look at the notepad again, writing something down. Once he was done, he plaed the pen on the pad and slid it to you.

“Sign it so it’s official,” he instructed.

There were two lines beside each other, one already with Eren’s signature. Without hesitation, you signed your name neatly on the paper, giving the items back to Eren once you were done.

(Y/N) and erens contract and rules for eren yaegers fool proof plan to get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. act normally. eren and (Y/N) act like a couple already. just double the pda a little more 2. don’t tell anyone about the deal. the more people who believe in the relationship, the more likely it is for the plan to work 3. post each other on ig a lot. maybe add names and a date to bios to make it more believable 4. date night every saturday (go out or just hang out) 5. go to parties together 6. walk each other to class if you can 7. call each other cute pet names 8. after breaking up, the couple act has to stop including the sex 9. DON’T SLIP UP

payment for (Y/N): eren has to do the (Y/N)’s laundry for the rest of university, buy her lunch ever wednesday, get tutor to help her and give her as many orgasms as she wants during the course of the relationship

signed x eren yaeger x (y/n) (l/n)

The two of you shook hands when Eren put away his things, to seal the deal again. The waitress came by again to give you the bill and collect your dirty dishes. Eren set down the cash needed to pay along with a tip in the check presenter before the two of you left.

You walked hand in hand back to Erens car before you realized you missed something. “Wait. What do we tell people when they ask how we got together?” you asked, pausing in your tracks.

Eren stopped with you, turning to look at you. “Um, you can say I confessed after lunch, and that this is technically our first date,” he suggested, tugging your hand to walk back to the car.

“Huh. Okay. That works,” you nodded.

The two of you got into the car a little bit past 2:30 in the afternoon, ready to go home. “Wait,” you said again, making Eren pause. “Mikasa wanted a burger from that one joint near our apartment. Could you take me there first?”

Eren smiled and nodded, starting the car. “Of course. Burger with medium Coke and onion rings?”

“How did you know?”

“She always gets that when we go there.”

“Huh… I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

"Always."

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[blookmallow]

hi i binged through all of salad fingers for the first time in like 8 years and im fixating again here are. My Theories. pls talk to me if anyone else has Thoughts or wants to discuss things. this is really long i am sorry :’ ) 

also shout out to the salad fingers wiki for helping me keep track of details and also for this 

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thought: salad fingers is not violent on purpose he did not mean to kill that kid 

this is less a theory and more “if you slander my boy with accusations i will Get you” but listen. i see people going “but he mURDERED A CHILD!!” because of the oven incident but listen. listen to me. he didnt mean to and cannot be held to the same standard of morality and understanding consequences as a. person who isn’t..... in whatever situation and mental state he has going on

- yes, the kid getting trapped in the oven was his fault. but it was not intentional or malicious and i sincerely doubt he understands what happened or why. 

he was asking for help reaching the fish (there’s no reason to believe he wasn’t just genuinely asking for help. he tears up in gratitude. theres no evidence of him Tricking People Maliciously in any other context i do not believe he would do that) and was distracted by the rusty nail, causing him to let go of the door. it wasn’t “he cares more about rust than about a child’s life” or something, i dont think he can actually hold “hey look at that i gotta check that out” and “i need to hold the door open so the child doesn’t get hurt” in his head at the same time, rust is his favorite stim/an impulse thing that takes over everything else and his perception of reality and the things going on around him changes very quickly and easily. more on that later. but the important point here is it wasn’t a malicious plot, or a neglectful careless action, he literally did not realize letting go of the door would cause harm 

he stabbed himself accidentally with the nail and passed out for a while (the fact that he immediately bled that much is concerning too, he probably has hemophilia which is. a medical condition outside of his control, as well) and after all that he had completely forgotten about the child altogether (and says “i must have dozed off” so he doesn’t even understand he passed out. and might not remember the nail thing in the first place) 

we don’t see what happened after this, we don’t know how he responds when he investigates the fish and inevitably finds an unexpected charred corpse in there, but i guarantee he won’t remember why its in there or understand that its a corpse. we dont see it again so its. entirely possible he didnt recognize it as a person and either just disposed of it or, uh, ate it. but if he did, it wasn’t with the knowledge and comprehension of it being A Corpse or the memory of how it got there 

theory: on salad fingers and memory / comprehension of death and consequences 

more on that subject

- we see him frequently doing things and then immediately forgetting he did it or forgetting what was happening. he accidentally squishes the bug (which also was not malicious or intentional, he intended to pet it but just. went too hard) and has no understanding either that its dead, or that he killed it. she has gone flat and gooey for some unknown reason. that’s strange. she needs to go have a wash, that’s no way to be. 

he eats the jeremy fisher puppet at one point and then immediately goes “where have you gotten to??” 

he even briefly forgets hubert cumberdale’s name and immediately comes up with another one without realizing it, and then later goes back to hubert cumberdale again with no mention of barbara logan-price 

he refers to the same little yellow guy as “young child” and also Auntie Bainbridge later on. he keeps up the fantasy of... whatever the fuck yvonne was being his child for a pretty long time but then when he arrives at “auntie bainbridge” ‘s house he suddenly forgets why he’s there, and even apparently forgets what yvonne is and uses  ‘her’ as a window rag instead and never mentions it again (I also don’t think she was in the sandwich at the end either. it’s hard to see but the sandwich contents are vaguely brown and theres a visible lump in the black goo behind him. i like the idea that the lil yellow guy made the sandwich for him) 

salad fingers is constantly subconsciously adjusting his reality to fit Whatever Makes The Most Sense At The Time and does not consistently remember things (sometimes even major things. he remembers his puppets the most consistently and still even forgets hubert’s name) or have a concept of cause and effect 

i think he possibly has some sense of recognition, “I’ve seen this person before,” but doesn’t always remember Why he knows them, and his mind just automatically fills in the blank with whatever makes sense to him. he doesn’t remember who the yellow guy is, but knows he knows them Somehow, so, ah, of course, it must be auntie bainbridge out for her sunday stroll :) and he knows he’s there for a reason, but not what that reason was, so he decides it must be time to clean the windows 

- milford cubicle was already dead when salad fingers opens the door, but he has no idea that hes dead. this isn’t even a cause for concern. my, he must be tired, that’s all. he kept milford there until he rotted away, too, so there was never a point where he realized anything was wrong (until he became skeleton. more on That later too) 

- he finds a corpse buried in the yard and rather than confronting the confusing and alarming reality of that situation, why it must be kenneth, back from the great war! at no point does he understand kenneth is definitely dead

theory: kenneth vs glass brother

i think he really did have a brother named kenneth who probably died in the war. could be some subconscious connection between “recognizing” a corpse as his brother, but i dont think he realizes any of that. i think the glass family is probably a trauma based hallucination, but a... well, reflection. pun not exactly intended lmao. on how his real family was and how they treated him

i dont think glass brother is the same brother as kenneth, since salad fingers interacts with them completely differently 

kenneth is a corpse that salad fingers projects a personality on and speaks for, while glass brother seems independent and malicious toward him. i think he had a good relationship with kenneth (so, when salad fingers imagines that he’s here, it’s cause for celebration and he’s projecting onto something inert and “safe”) and also had another brother (who was probably his twin) who bullied him and acted violently, so when that trauma resurfaces, he hallucinates a vicious Other that he cannot control or speak for.

it also tracks that the abusive brother was his twin - he sees himself reflected in the mirror, and something in his own face reminds him of that lost brother until it “becomes” him

he refers to kenneth as his younger brother, and sees him as a being that does not look like him, while glass brother is literally his reflection, so it would make sense if he had one identical twin and one younger brother 

ive seen theories that he had a real sister named bordois too, but i think him calling the bug “little sister” was just. a term of endearment or one of his little odd language quirks, he seemed to be talking to it more like a pet than like a sibling 

theory: regarding mable

- ok people are saying salad fingers killed mable at the picnic but i Really Don’t Think He Did

we never see him acting out violently when he gets scared. he tends to try to escape situations that stress him out, he shrinks, he cries, he goes into his cupboard (which is. incredibly upsetting given the fact he was almost definitely abused by his family) 

he takes on a kind of Authoritative Tone often, he gets sort of ruffled up and disdainful toward things, but that’s not what he does when he’s scared

when he’s actually distressed (rather than irritated) he tends to break down and retreat. this includes when other independent beings act in ways that unsettle and upset him 

so i dont know where the “he freaked out and killed her” idea is coming from. he suddenly goes from outside at the picnic to having a breakdown in his house so. he most likely just ran 

i think the Only time we see him act out violently is when he decides he has to punish marjory for not getting a haircut like he asked - he tears her hair out, but for me that scene was particularly concerning because it was so unlike him. that was an anger response, not a fear response, though, and he tends to be harsher toward things that he’s actually controlling (I don’t think we ever see him decide to Discipline something that was independent from him other than the horses, and he didnt hurt them) 

ordinarily when something irritates him he just goes “hmph! so distasteful. how rude. i shan’t have this behavior, you know” but doesn’t really actually do anything about it, and moves on

anyway we never see mable again so i think either he freaked out and ran away and she just didn’t come back, or he scared her and she ran away, or both 

there’s a dress visible briefly when salad fingers is making his Flesh Boy which could be mable’s (he did comment he liked it) but it’s not 100% clear, and that doesn’t necessarily mean he KILLED her for it. she could have changed into something else and left it somewhere and he found it. she could have died under unrelated circumstances, and salad fingers found her - he doesn’t comprehend death, so. probably he decided they’ve made amends now and she’s given him her dress as a token of friendship, or something 

i dont think it really looks that significantly like hers but the fact that it stands out so distinctly from the rest of the Pile could mean something 

but i just feel like if he had killed her we would’ve seen her corpse again, he doesn’t have a concept of murder, or death at all, or consequences, and his memory doesn’t hold out that consistently, so if he killed her, he probably would have calmed down later and then forgotten what he did and came up with a new way to explain the corpse in front of him - oh, how rude of me, mable’s here dozing right off and i havent even offered her a blanket. let’s get you to bed

like, he probably would have dragged her home with him, with the intention of being a good friend/host to his guest, not understanding what happened. he kept milford cubicle around a really long time  

it wouldn’t be like him to have any concept of hiding the evidence

speaking of milford 

theory: regarding milford cubicle 

salad fingers keeps milford’s corpse around until it starts rotting, and then after a very confusing series of events, the corpse is suddenly a skeleton, which surprisingly alarms salad fingers considerably, and then he goes out to find a whole bunch of himselves eating various bits of gore. they give him a present, which is a hat very clearly made of milford’s skin 

my conclusion: salad fingers, in some kind of dissociative fugue state, skinned and ate the remains of milford cubicle himself and turned the remaining skin into a hat. he also saves some of it to make hubert cumberdale (the real boy) later as well, probably forgetting where it came from. he does not realize he’s done this or remember doing it, so his scrambled mind tries to make sense of it with other selves eating unknown flesh, and a lovely hat appearing (which he doesn’t seem to notice is made of flesh) 

you can also see milford’s original name tag in the drawer later on when he’s building the flesh boy, so. he kept that after the mysterious disappearance of milford’s flesh, apparently. more evidence that that skin is probably also his

some other scattered thoughts regarding the most recent string of episodes and salad fingers’ mental state: 

ive been trying to figure out what the fuckhell happened with the yvonne incident and everything that happened in the birthday episode

im really concerned for salad fingers’ health and mental state, as it seems to be deteriorating 

some yvonne theories ive seen:

1. he ate the burned corpse of the kid who died in the oven, and it made him very sick, which ultimately resulted in a charred mass he couldn’t digest - he steadily gets worse, until his body finally ejects it (yvonne’s “birth”) and after that his health starts to recover again. since the oven incident happens really early on, all the times he mentions his stomach being upset after that until he becomes deathly ill would make sense, so i think this is plausible 

2. the hair he found in the cupboard was actually a parasitic worm that grew in his stomach after he ate it and became yvonne. i think this is Possible, it is a really strangely wormy looking hair, but it doesn’t move and he mentions stomach pains before this, so it seems less likely to me 

3. i also saw the concept that salad fingers is a trans man who suffered a miscarriage at some point in his past and yvonne represents that, and i can definitely see where the idea is coming from but i do think something really physically happened to him in the present time, i dont think it was all a trauma-based hallucination, since the yellow guy reacts to the black ooze and something was definitely making him severely ill 

so. i Don’t Know what the fuck that was about but i think the burnt corpse theory makes the most sense 

on that note: there’s a lot of cannibalism imagery in salad fingers 

we have no IDEA where he’s getting food from. im pretty sure its been confirmed that he is Not a zombie, we see him bleed, pass out, sleep, etc so it seems like he must be a living person who has ordinary needs. but we see him eat... his own puppets. hairs. sand. the soup glass mother instructed him to make, which made him very sick. he has a working oven but doesn’t seem to have consistent access to water. he had a fish somehow but who knows where it came from. it’s very likely he doesn’t get food often and some of his hallucinations and mood swings could be caused by starvation (and when he does eat, it’s things that are outright inedible or probably not good for him) 

the burned corpse disappears and is never mentioned again (though salad fingers is very sick afterward). milford’s flesh disappears and salad fingers violently hallucinates multiple selves gorging themselves on unknown flesh

and what concerns me the most about that is that he loses a lot of time in that episode 

he passes out in the woods and when he wakes up, it looks like a shit ton of time has passed

we don’t know how much is reality and how much is his warped perception, but it looks like a tree has grown and his physical condition has deteriorated 

he looks really, really unhealthy and haggard for the rest of the episode 

i think he had a huge dissociative episode and lost possibly weeks of time, probably due to starvation, and he ate milford cubicle and very possibly other people as well 

so my question is. how often does this happen to him

and what happens to him during that state? does he become violent and dangerous without being aware of it when he returns to himself again? or has he just been ravenously scavenging corpses when he gets desperate enough? 

its possible dr papanak is another personality he has, one that’s “buried out in the woods” that he becomes when he’s in a really, really bad mental and physical state 

he looks much better in the next episode (though that’s also when he has his outburst with marjory. could be that he’s still staving off the violent urges/hasn’t fully come back to himself after the last incident) and I’m really hoping the fact that he was able to finally stand up to his family (at least in some sense) and smash the mirrors could mean he’s making steps toward recovery after whatever the hell all that was 

there’s not really much space to do anything with his life or get much help given the circumstances but watching him slowly losing himself even more is Awful :( 

i hope we get more episodes im so desperate for more information now 

lastly, some random observations 

i tried to read this newspaper and it looks like it’s actually written in french, which is interesting given that salad fingers seems to be british (but fond of france, and seems to speak french or at least knows one phrase) 

i wonder where he got this, or whether it ever meant something significant to him

theres a lot of evidence that he can’t read (takes no notice of the “harry” nametag and immediately names him something else, “reads” a letter that is actually a newspaper clipping in another language he’s holding upside down, “writes” a letter that is just scribbles) so i dont think he learned his one french phrase from this or anything but, still. vaguely interesting. maybe he has been to france before and brought this back with him for some reason. maybe he’s actually in post apocalyptic france and was just originally from england. We Don’t Know 

theres a weird little face in the. heater? whatever that is in the background for a second and i dont like it  

salad fingers leaves horace in charge, but then sees him (as a live horse) in the woods, but then comes back to find him both still on the shelf (as a toy) and in the room (as a live horse, now with his, uh, surgery scars) but doesn’t seem to notice this and doesn’t comment on it 

i dont know what the hell that means other than possibly his reality is even less consistent and logical than usual/a reflection on his mental state deteriorating