#the weather is looking EXTRA nasty here

[ghosthorse-tracks]

Looks like we’re in for nasty weather…

[buuniebaby]

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

[anilovie]

My Love, My Life

Summary: You and Anakin are on a supply-run and get caught in a storm, forcing you to find shelter amidst growing tensions.

WC: 9.3k

CW: MDNI, pwp, oral (f recieving), mild size kink, shared shower, lots of fluff

AN: I swear this whole thing was revealed to me in a vision.

You and Anakin had been watching the weather closely since being sent out in the dingy little transport ship. The mission was to deliver supplies and medical aid to an incognito Obi-Wan on the planet Leaze— before the storm got bad enough where travel became impossible. 

It was a simple mission, if not complicated by the sudden turn in their seasons, bringing forth a front of strong winds and heavy rains. Anakin could have even come himself, but the two of you played up the extent of Obi-Wan’s sustained injuries so that the Council would feel the need to send a medic – you – along for the ride as well. Any opportunity for you and Anakin to spend time together, you exploited. 

Really, Obi-Wan just sprained a wrist. He was low on food, water ammo, batteries, and his clothes had been all torn up in a nasty skirmish with some bounty hunters. “A joyride,” Anakin referred to this mission as. That is, until you began the descent into Leaze’s misty, swirling skies.

In between tracking his location and watching the weather radar, Anakin’s focus was on bringing you down to the ground safely — with a little more emphasis on safe, since you were here. Thus, his hands gripped the controls with a bit more force than normal, jaw clenched and brows furrowed as he met each gust of wind with a controlled parry. He pulled the shuttle through the misty skies, stabilizing the rocking foundations through the whipping winds that threatened to toss you right out of the air.

You weren’t sure how he could even see. The rain and leaves that had stuck to the window obliterated any view– he likely wasn’t even trying to see. You realized this as he answered Obi-Wan’s incoming call without even sparing a glance out the window, fingers flying over the dashboard, weathering the elements through intellect and feeling alone. 

“Anakin, Y/n, I trust that you’ve made it here safely,” Obi-Wan’s hologram displayed before you and Anakin. He looked alright – his disguise was off, for now, and he seemed to be someplace warm and out of the rain, a complete juxtaposition to the two of you.

As soon as the words warbled through, something slammed into the shuttle, rocking the foundations with an ominous groan as you began to plummet.

Anakin swore and yanked on the yoke, flicking some switches on the dashboard. “Working on it,” he bit through clenched teeth, huffing as the inferior ion engines sputtered and popped to life, breaking your fall. The shull continued to rattle and jerk, throwing you around in your seat despite being fully strapped up. 

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Well, once you make it to the ground, don’t bother coming to my location. The storm is worse than the reports have indicated. Find shelter for yourselves – I can hold out another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’ll do more harm than good forcing you out there in these conditions. I am safe where I am.”

“Which is where?”

The transmission cut out for a moment, shuttering off and on again as sheets of rain pelted the aluminum roof. You caught the last half of his explanation. “--they offered a room for the night, though at a high price. I hope you brought extra credits.”

“Some,” Anakin grit. 

“Perfect. Well, I won’t keep distracting you. It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Obi-Wan bid goodbye, his cheery tone outlandish among your current predicament. “Happy landings,” he bid, and the transmission cut off.

Your fingers dug into your armrests, trusting Anakin’s skill to see that wish through. He was still deeply concentrated, and more than a little stressed as he pulled the yoke and typed over multiple colorful buttons. 

“Well, at least he’s safe,” you offered offhandedly, trying to diffuse the tension. Another hard gust of wind slammed into the hull, this time on your side, followed by a hard sheet of rain. You flinched. 

The lights had begun to flicker a while ago, and now they shut off completely, leaving you in the pitch black. Your sharp intake of air was audible, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach as the assault on the ship heightened.

“It’s okay, I did that on purpose,” Anakin explained. You could hear the strain in his voice, the clacking of his fingers over the overworked dashboard. “We need more power to the engines and thrusters. It’ll be a bumpy landing either way, but–”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked. 

“We’re almost there…”  

Bracing yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the armrests, anticipation swirling around in your gut. You trusted him. You didn’t have to be so afraid. It was the weather you didn’t trust. Maker forbid you land in a pit of mud, swallowed up before you could escape. 

A sudden jolt threw you forward, the sickening screech of bolts and rods fighting to hold the metal panels of the shuttle together drowning out all other senses. Inertia pushed you forward in your seat, and you would have gone flying out the windshield if it weren’t for the double straps tightened over your chest, the lap belt, and the death grip you had on your armrests.

Slowly, the sliding of the shuttle ship began to slow, the tension in the shuttle easing, parts settling back into place. Then, the sounds of the vicious rain pelting the roof returned, your body relaxing against the seat with a huff, blinking your eyes open to the pitch blackness of the hull.

“You okay?” Anakin worried, clicking out of his own seatbelt to reach for you. 

You followed suit, fingers fumbling around in the dark for the clasps that would free you. “All good,” you released one set of straps, and Anakin found the two others for you. “Thanks.”

Another gust of wind nudged the shull forward, groaning under the pressure. Some lights flickered on, and there was Anakin fiddling with the control panel overhead so you could see. 

“I don’t think we can stay here for very long, unfortunately,” he said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so stressed. “The ship appears to be sinking. We’ll have to pack a bag and get going.”

Abandon ship? In these conditions?

Again, your unshakable trust in him erased any fear in your mind. He’d done far riskier and more dangerous things – his own fear now was because of you. You’re safety. 

But you were fine – just a little shaky as you stood and reached for the supply crates in the back, rifling through them for necessities, tossing them to Anakin to shove into a bag. You managed to get half of what you’d originally planned to drop off for Obi-Wan into two bags. Anakin shrugged the larger one over his shoulders, and you took the smaller one.

You’d both come prepared, already wearing rain ponchos, but it seemed like they’d do little good as Anakin kicked the stuck door open. The sound of the rain coming down was deafening, a roaring torrent that could easily sweep you away. 

“Hold on to me,” Anakin yelled over the sound, and you hooked an arm around his, pulling you out of the ship with him.

Mud and rain splattered your face as your boots met the ground, and he immediately took off, dragging you with him. Again, your blind faith in him came in handy. All you could focus on was spluttering around the rain for any pocket of air you could find, trying to keep upright as your heels slipped and skidded in the mud, hoping you weren’t slowing Anakin down.

Of course you were slowing him down. You were no Jedi. But you both knew that, and he didn’t mind. Just wanted you out of the wind and rain so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

After what seemed like ages of the two of you fighting through the elements, narrowly avoiding trees and branches and sharp rocks, Anakin pointed out an abandoned shed in the distance. He ran for it, pulling you under the awning with him so he could pound on the door.

“No one’s here,” he spoke after a moment as you were still wiping water out of your eyes. Something clicked in the door, unlocking so Anakin could open it up and peer inside.

He found the light switch on the wall, flipping it up and down uselessly. “Power’s out,” he mumbled, searching around in the force for some mechanism of light. Apparently finding something, he released your hand. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood shivering by the closed door, dripping a puddle of water onto the ground as you waited for him to return. With your sight gone, your other senses were heightened – you could smell the dust of furniture long forgotten, hear the creeks of unkempt floorboards as Anakin explored the shed, and feel the bone-cold chill of the storm seeping in under the crack in the door. Wherever you were, it was very old, and likely abandoned.

Anakin came back around the corner brandishing a candle, shielding the flame with one hand as he made his way back to you.

“This looks like it was somebody’s home at one point,” he thought aloud, pointing to the way he just came. “That’s a kitchen over there, and there’s a loft with a bed in the back. Pretty sure I saw a shower, too. I can probably get the pumps running long enough to make use of it.”

You wouldn’t question how he could do that– sometimes it seemed like he had magical powers, even without the force. 

“Is there a fireplace?” you wondered, shaking off your drenched poncho and stepping further in now that you could see. “Maybe I could heat up some water to use, warm this place up a bit, too.”

Anakin held the candle out before him, casting shadows over the interior of the little shed. Right in front of the door was a wooden stairway – more of a ladder – that led to what you assumed was an attic. Deciding to avoid any bats or rodents, you agreed to keep that shut and rounded the ladder to what looked like a tiny living room opposite the kitchen, separated by a thin wall.

A couple threadbare sofa-chairs sat dusty and weathered on the dull carpet, a table set before the both of them, and – jackpot – a little stone fireplace in the corner.

“The wood from outside is too wet to burn,” Anakin poked at the empty log pit. “But I could break down that table and use it as fuel…”

“Good idea,” you chirped, taking the candle from Anakin to free up his hands for the task. “I’ll go look for more candles and matches.”

The kitchen was just as tiny, standing room only and no dining table. It consisted of a slab of wood for a counter, an empty ice box that was cracked down the middle, and some drawers which were also mostly empty.

One of the cupboard up top held a few random supplies, mostly rubber bands and bottle caps and dead batteries. But amid that was a bag of little tea candles, a few larger ones made of a slippery wax, and a box of matches. Half were no good, but you only needed to light one and then share the flame with all the others.

You planted the tea candles around on various surfaces, lighting the space up as Anakin broke down the table. You threw some old papers you’d found bunched in a drawer into the fireplace for more starter fuel, scratching another match to life against the grated box once Anakin dropped a leg of the table into the fire. You tossed the match in after it, satisfied when the flame caught the edge of the papers and flared to life, enveloping the wooden leg.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed, holding your hands out to warm by the flame. 

“Mmhm,” he agreed, crouched beside you. He stared, mesmerized by the flames for a long moment before suddenly standing. “Alright, I’m gonna go look at the pipes. Will you be okay for now?”

“Yup,” you nodded cheerily. “Where are the pipes?”

“There’s a cellar out back. Should be down there.”

“Oh…” this time, your shiver wasn’t from the cold. “Want me to go with you? Sounds kinda creepy.”

Anakin huffed a laugh, running a hand down the back of your head affectionately. “No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you. Want you to stay here and warm up.”

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Perfect,” he brought you toward him with that hand, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Now alone, you fed the fire with some more wood from the table, crouching down before the bags to get out your and Anakin’s spare set of clothes. You hung them up on the sill of the fireplace, weighing them down with the candles so they could dry. 

There were a couple of large buckets beside the fireplace, probably meant for gathering wood. You took one and set it outside to collect rainwater. It didn’t take very long at all – it filled up from the downpour within minutes, and you hung it up on the metal rod above the fire to boil for drinking water.

Then you grabbed one of the thicker candles to light your way to the back of the shed. The floorboards lifted slightly back here, half of a wall hiding the bedroom from the rest of the interior. 

The bed was quite large for such a small space, half-made with a quilted cover. It looked all dusty and gross, so you tore it off and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the space, praying for some spare sheets.

Luck seemed to be on your side. There was a set of sheets, blankets, and even a couple of pillows stowed away atop the first shelf in the closet. You had to strain on your tiptoes to reach them, but eventually knocked them down to your height. You took them to the living room and shook them out, making sure no dust or any bugs hid inside, then brought them back to the room and made the bed.

It was a lot more than you were hoping for, for an abandoned shed in the depths of the forest.

With the bed all made and Anakin not back yet, you decided to use the old dirty blanket to wipe down the interior of the bathroom. There was a shower – if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was just a spigot attached to the wall with a drain beneath, the floor here made of smooth rock rather than wood. But if Anakin could get it to work, and you warmed up some more water over the fire, you could have a real, warm shower using the soap you’d brought from the ship. 

The sound of the door opening let in the roar of the rain once more. Anakin closed it behind him, shaking water out of his hair.. “Good news,” he called, voice carrying from the door to the bedroom in the small shed. “There’s a water heater down there that I got working, as well as the pipes. I just have to fill the tank and we’re good to go.”

“Ohh,” you cooed excitedly, rounding the corner to meet him again. “I found a bucket we could use– hold on.” You grabbed the spare bucket from the fireplace and handed it to him. “The bed’s all set, I found some clean sheets and cleaned up the bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the kitchen or anywhere else,” you shrugged. “But I think this will do pretty well for the night.”

“I think so, too,” Anakin said, and despite the howling wind and icy rain pounding into the roof and threatening to shatter the windows, he smiled. 

He left to go fill the tank, and you laid out the rest of the supplies before the fire. The bigger bag was for Obi-Wan– those things you didn’t touch. But you and Anakin had a couple extra blankets, some food, a blaster, maps, and your medical supplies. Most of it survived the rain.

By the time Anakin came back, you were still sitting before the fire, occasionally feeding it with more scraps of wood and poking it around with a longer piece. He kicked the mud and dirt off his boots at the door before coming in, shrugging off his poncho. 

“Alright, bad news…” he started this time. You turned to look at him. “The heater is the slowest thing I’ve ever come across. It’ll take hours. I don’t think showers are in the cards for us tonight.”

You twisted your lips, trying not to seem too disappointed. “Bummer.” 

All you wanted to do was get out of these sticky, soaking wet clothes and immerse yourself in a warm shower. But at least he tried, and it really wasn’t the end of the world.

“Maybe in the morning,” you reasoned, trying to stay positive. He joined you by the fire as you tugged on the clothes you’d hung up, seeing if they were ready. “At least these are dry, and warm now. That’s better than nothing.”

“It is. Smart girl,” he tilted your face toward his with a finger, crouched before you again. His lips met yours – wet meeting dry, cold meeting warm. It took you by surprise a little bit, the intensity he kissed you with out of nowhere. But you responded in earnest, as if the simple touch of your flesh could warm him from the torrents coming down outside. 

After a long moment, he pulled back an inch, mumbling against your mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah?”

You nodded silently, standing once he gave you room to take the clothes down from the fire. 

You’d been on missions with Anakin before, just the two of you. But nothing like this – so raw, so intimate, so secluded from the rest of the world. You could feel a strange tension in the air between you two, not bad. Just… different. Like there was an energy pulsing alive, waiting for something to snap.

You’d been with Anakin for a few months now, and in love with each other for far longer. But… you’d never truly been with him yet. In any way. 

He knew you weren’t ready, and explained you could take it slow. As slow as you wanted. He, of course, was already experienced, and that intimidated you. Which is why it had been months, and you still hadn’t made a move to progress things. Just the thought of doing those things with him made you impossibly nervous.

But lately, like now, you were thinking about it more and more. You couldn’t do this with anyone else, you thought. Just Anakin. You loved him more than life itself, and your ability to express that with words or innocent touches was growing limited. 

You wanted more of him. And you wanted him to have more of you.

What are you thinking? You shook the thoughts out of your head as you took your clothes into the bathroom to change. These thoughts had nothing to do with the predicament you found yourselves in. The last thing he was thinking about was sex.

In fact, upon exiting the bathroom, you found him already changed into his dried pair of pants and nothing else, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you with a tired, slumped look in his eyes.

He’d given you his spare shirt to wear since it was bigger and warmer than yours, and he wasn’t going to wear it anyways. You also had on a pair of shorts, the comfy ones you brought for sleeping since you thought you’d be in an inn right now. 

You approached him slowly, shadows cast over his face from the candlelight, flickering off the walls. The air was a bit chillier back here, away from the fire that you’d let simmer to embers for now. Naturally, you gravitated toward his shirtless form, slotting yourself in the space he’d opened up for you between his knees, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What an odd change of plans,” you muttered into his hair softly.

His flesh hand found your back, holding you close as he nestled his head against your chest. “Agreed.”

You remained like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and rain-damp hair, listening to the constant thrum of the downpour above, the gusting wind in the trees. 

“You tired?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You liked how it looked dark and burnished in the candlelight, holding the shape of a ringlet curl as you wrapped and uncoiled it from around your finger. 

“Very,” he breathed, turning his face into your neck to leave a kiss on your collarbone. “C’mere.”

Both of his wrapped around your back, securely holding you to him as he fell backward onto the bed, with you on top of him. You laughed, steadying yourself with your arms on either side of his head, ducking down to plant a sweet kiss above his brows. 

“You’re not even on the bed,” you pointed out, referring to his legs which were still on the floor. You pulled back the covers, and you both slipped under, instantly finding the spot between his chest and shoulder to lay your head. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you snuggly into his side, allowing you to slot one of your legs between his. 

This is how it always was when you and him could truly be alone, uninterrupted, with no threat of someone finding you out. It was a rare moment, which is why your skin sang with every inch it pressed against his, heart soaring in your chest as your body seemed to settle so perfectly against his, erasing any doubt in your mind that any of this could be a mistake.

Before long, and without even realizing, you slipped into a deep sleep. Despite the harsh weather outside, you’d never felt so comfortable, wrapped up in warmth and darkness. That is, until Anakin woke with a start, wrenching you out of your slumber.

“What issit?” you slurred, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t like when he’d have nightmares, where you’d usually wake up before him due to his tossing and turning and mumbling. This was sudden – like something had possessed him, stolen all the air from his lungs as wide eyes turned to you.

“The transmitter,” he said, throwing the blankets off of him and getting out of bed. Your head was still lagging behind, having no idea what he meant.

“What transmitter?”

“The one on the ship. The only way we can contact Obi-Wan. We left it behind.”

He was already pulling on his boots and reaching for his other shirt, sparing no time. You pushed yourself further up in bed, swiping your hair out of your face. “D’you have to get it now? Can it wait till the morning?”

“The ship was sinking when we left it. It could be buried in mud right now,” he rushed the words out, grabbing his utility belt from the sill and securing it around his waist. “I’ll be back in an hour. Go back to bed… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” you were already swinging your legs off the bed too, about to stand up when Anakin put a hand on your shoulder. It was dark now, the candles having been blown out without you realizing, and you could barely see his face.

“No. Stay here. I don’t want you out there, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s just some rain,” your argument sounded meek, even to you. “Come on, Anakin, I don’t want you to go alone. ‘S not fair.”

“Fair?” 

“You shouldn’t have to be out there while I stay here and sleep. I won’t be able to, anyway. It is dangerous, so I should come with you, in case something happens.”

“Y/n. No,” he said sternly, and you flinched. A heavy pause hung between you, where you searched for what to say among the scattered thoughts in your brain. He’d never been stern with you before. Ever. 

“I won’t be gone long. I promise I’ll be there and back as fast as I can. Okay?”

“But,” you insisted stubbornly, desperately fighting back the sting in your eyes. “I want to go with you, Anakin. I want to help you.”

You tried to stand up again, but the hold he had on your shoulders wouldn’t let you. You tried to fight back the emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill over your eyes at his defiance. He was too strong, his word absolute– and for once, you couldn’t sway him.

The thought of him out there, alone in the dark and cold and rain… it killed you.

You grasped at his wrists, still holding onto your shoulders, and squeezed as if you could keep him there. As if he wasn’t laughably stronger than you, and could pull away from your touch without realizing you were trying.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? This isn’t like you,” his words came out hushed now. Worried. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sniffed, lip beginning to wobble. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s scary out there.

“I won’t. I promise… I’ll be okay. You’ll see,” he kissed the stray tear that squeezed out of your eye, collecting it with his lips before it could trail a path down your cheek. You tried to steady your breathing, shaky as it dragged in and out of your lungs, quelling the rising feeling of dread and fear.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you back into bed, on your back, tucking the sheets in around you nice and tight. Tight enough so that you couldn’t get out, perhaps. Whimpering in defeat, you felt another few tears squeeze out of your eyes, turning your head away from him to bury into the pillow.

“Don’t do this,” Anakin murmured, stroking a hand over your hair. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Fine,” you snipped, immediately regretting it. “‘M sorry… just don’t get hurt. Come back.”

“I will,” he whispered, and trailed warm kisses down your temple. 

And then he was gone.

His voice, his touch, his scent, his warmth – all of it, vanished like it had never been there to begin with.

It’s not the fact that he’d left to go do something dangerous on his own – it was the fact that he was out there all alone, in a terrible storm, fighting through the unpredictability of the elements. It had been violent for the short time you’d been out there earlier, the rain pelting your skin so hard it stung, the mud sticking to your boots, refusing to let you move, the wind nearly toppling you over if Anakin hadn’t been there to steady you.

You could have gone with him. You could have kept up. And Maker forbid anything happen to him – if he got stuck, trapped somewhere, if a tree came down over him, if he got lost and couldn’t find his way–

You couldn’t stay in bed. Half of you wanted to pull your boots on too and meet him out there, but you knew that was a stupid decision. You didn’t have his sense of direction, the built in radar that he had. And even as you peered through the cloudy window to the outside world, you knew it would be in vain. The night forest was alive with shuttering tree limbs, branches fighting each other in the sky as the terrible wind tossed them around. The rain never let up, the same suffocating sheet of water dumping from the moonless sky above.

Anakin was far gone at this point. You could only sit by the window, alone in the cold, dusty dark, until he returned.

The sleeves of your – Anakin’s – shirt had grown damp by the time you spotted his figure appear out of the trees. 

It startled you at first, worried some stranger had come across the shed in the same way you and Anakin had, and was now heading this way to seek shelter. Once he arrived, he might find you here, and maybe he’d try to hurt you.

You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and grabbed for the water-logged blaster you’d set on the floor, shaking out some raindrops and hoping it wasn’t one of the things that got destroyed by the rain. 

Your worry was for naught - the closer the figure grew, the more you recognized the height, shape, and gait of Anakin Skywalker. The hood of his poncho was pulled up over his head, but it did little good as the wind tugged and pulled at it, letting the rain drench his face anyway.

You set the blaster down and met him by the door, pulling it open to reveal him soaked to the bone and panting. He truly had run the whole way.

“Anakin,” you started, trying to stay out of his way so he could take off his poncho and boots without spraying you with water. “Are you okay? Did you get the transmitter?”

“I made it just in time,” he explained, reaching into his belt pocket and brandishing the little metal device. Such a small thing, important enough to risk his life over. 

At least, to him it was.

“You must be freezing,” you muttered, still upset at the fact that you hadn’t shared in his suffering. You hated seeing him go through these things alone. You should have been with him. 

“The heaters have probably had enough time to warm the water up,” his attempt to distract you didn’t go unnoticed. “You wanna go check for me?”

You whispered, “okay,” and flit back to the bedroom, lighting a couple of candles inside so you could see. The spigot was stuck in place due to years of sitting unused and abandoned, but eventually you managed to wrench it to the side, almost splattering yourself with brown water.

Your face crinkled in disgust, but soon it began to run clear. You tested the temperature with your fingertips, pleased to feel that it was warm.

Anakin rounded the corner, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s warm,” you pulled your hand away and wiped it dry on your shorts. “You should get in quick so it’s not wasted.”

“Wanna join me?”

His offer caught you by surprise.

Join him? In the shower? As in… naked?

The look on your face must have given your thoughts away. He chuckled and reached toward one of the tea lights you’d just lit, snuffing the flame out between two gloved fingers. “I can turn off the lights…” he teased.

Damn him. As if you weren’t already flustered – 

The steady trickle of the spigot remained at your back, seducing you to the warmth of the shower. It would feel so good to be able to wash up. And with there only really being enough time for one shower… it would make sense for the both of you to just do it together.

But Anakin had never seen you without clothes before. And you hadn’t prepared for that to happen today.

“Yes… no…?” he drawled, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the other candle. Like the first, he pinched the flame out, blanketing the room in darkness. The sound of the floorboards creaking was the only way you knew he was approaching, tensing as you felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll behave.”

You were still upset with him being stern with you earlier. And even more upset that he didn’t let you go with him. 

But something about his honey-smooth voice reduced you to putty in his hands. Warmth budded and bloomed deep in your stomach, and a certain resolve passed over you. You didn’t want to be upset anymore. You wanted this. 

“Okay,” you whispered, fingers finding Anakin’s at the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t miss his slight inhale.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you tugged the hem up yourself, urging him to guide the material over your head. 

The darkness of the room was the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort, knowing he couldn’t truly see you just yet. You knew, logically, that he could fathom things in his mind without having to see them, but purposely ignored that fact.

You weren’t sure where your shirt landed, as he’d been the one to tug your arms out himself. Riding the adrenaline high, you slipped your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and pushed them down, kicking them somewhere in the corner.

And there you were, standing completely naked in front of Anakin Skywalker – your love, your life – for the first time ever.

Again, the only reason you could really do this right now was because it was pitch black in the room. You only had enough nerve to then reach for him, hand finding the soaking wet material of his own shirt as you shivered in the cold.

“Hurry up and get undressed, I wanna get in,” you pleaded. He’d gone eerily silent.

At your request, he started into motion. You could hear the sounds of his wet clothes slopping to the ground heavily, trying to fight the blush off of your face as you turned around to pull the spigot further. The water began to rain down in a warm current now, and you stepped underneath to douse yourself in the glorious heat.

“Where are yo–? oh,” you jumped as you felt his hands find their way around your waist, his naked chest pressed up against your back. The water sprayed over the both of you, trickling down his body to fall onto yours, shivering at the added heat.

The blood in your face grew warmer, trying not to think about how close his hands were to two very sensitive parts of your body. They spanned almost the whole length of your torso, tummy twisting as you realized just how big he was. Just how strong.

But he chose to be gentle with you.

Trying to steady your breathing, you reached for the soap you’d stowed away in the notch in the wall, flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Anakin trailed his fingers down your arm, taking the bottle from you and setting it down again. 

You rubbed the soap between your hands, letting the excess drip down your body so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then, you began rubbing the suds all into your skin, feeling impossibly feverish at the predicament.

It just felt… wrong, somehow, to be touching yourself like this in front of Anakin. Even if you were just washing up.

His hands had returned to your waist, and you smoothed them over his own as you worked your way down your body. Wordlessly, he turned his hands over, capturing your soapy fingers in his and stealing some of the suds. You huffed a laugh, heart fluttering in your chest as he began to work that soap into the soft skin of your stomach, hips, and waist. 

You tried not to squirm too much. Forced yourself to relax, and just let him do what he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, the way he lingered, rubbing circles into your soft skin, kissing at your shoulder blade as he brought his hands around and up your back, almost massaging the soap into you. 

The way his hands moved over your body was so different than anything you’ve ever felt before. You’d never been touched so tenderly, so unrestricted yet loving as you’d been now. And though he had free reign, he avoided the parts that might make you uncomfortable… until you grew bold enough to capture his wandering hands in your own, leading them to the soft mounds of flesh yourself. 

On instinct he squeezed, ever so gently, with your smaller fingers bracketing his own. “You can touch me,” you whispered, encouraging now that you were fully relaxed and comfortable with him.

“You’re perfect,” he replied, lips finding the curve of your neck.

What had he said about behaving?

As if he could read your thoughts, his lips released the skin of your neck with a small sound, pressing a kiss above that spot, and then one more under your jaw. Then he began to move his hands over your breasts, not quite sexual, but gentle. Caring. Washing you of rainwater and chill, so all that was left was the sweet smelling soap and the feel of him.

You sighed in relief, bones turning to mush in his hands. Soon, he reached for the soap again and squeezed more out, stepping around so that he was in front of you.

His hands found you again, your waist this time, the unpredictability of his touches making your heart hammer against your ribs. Something about it was so thrilling, not being able to see where he was or where he was planning to go, especially now that you’d given him permission to touch you. You weren’t sure where you’d draw the line if it came to that. If you’d draw the line. 

His touch remained wholly innocent, though, focusing back around on your stomach, dragging down the curve of your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs. You could feel his breath on your tummy, butterflies flaring to life as you realized he was on his knees before you, dragging his touch up and down your thighs as his lips pressed a sensual kiss to the top of your tummy. Then above your belly button. Then one below–

You held your breath, anticipating him to keep going. But he lingered on the last kiss, and you could feel his teeth on your skin as he smiled.

“On my best behavior, remember?” his voice was deep, almost a purr. 

You could only manage a meek “Mmhm,” as he continued on, tracing his fingers down to your knee, lifting one leg slightly so he could trail kisses down your thigh, over your knee, down, down down, all the while rubbing soap into your skin in his lip’s wake.

By the time he reached your foot, you were bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying not to jump out of your skin as his lips continued. He kissed your ankle, the top of your foot, massaging soap into the soles of your feet. 

He wasn’t just washing you. He was worshiping you.

That much was clear as he released that leg and started over on the other side. 

You were almost relieved when he was done. Every inch of your skin was alive and buzzing, standing on edge with electricity and embarrassment and something else. Something deep, and smooth, and warm like bubbling molasses. You could barely breathe, glad for the moment of reprieve when he finally released you, and deposited more soap in his hands so he could wash himself. 

Your legs were jelly, afraid you’d fall down right there in the shower, completely baffled how he could just do something like that and continue on like nothing happened. Then, you heard the speed at which he was rubbing the soap over his own body – clearly, he wanted to get out to continue this elsewhere. 

You weren’t terribly ashamed to admit you were thinking along the same line.

Before the water could run cold, Anakin had urged you both under the spigot again and rinsed all the suds off your body. Then he grabbed for the single towel that you’d brought from the supply bag, turning the water off and wrapping you up in it.

“Hey– what’re you doing?” you pouted, undoing the towel just as soon as he’d tucked it into you, secure.

“Getting you dry,” he responded like it was obvious. You rubbed the towel over your skin quickly, then wrapped Anakin in it like he’d done to you. Or– you tried to, at least. You still couldn’t see, and completely missed your mark, caught off guard by the absence of the body you confidently reached for that you almost slipped, bracing yourself on the first thing you could reach.

“Woah,” Anakin chuckled, easily steadying you with his hands around your waist. Your bare chest was pressed against his, glaringly obvious with the way the cold air tightened your skin, and you blushed furiously. 

“Sorry– couldn’t find you,” you mumbled, hopelessly patting at his chest with the towel now that you had him.

“Alright, let’s get you dressed and out of here before you take us both down,” he teased, bending to retrieve the clothes you’d both discarded in the dark.

You let him pull his shirt over your head first, shielding you from the nippy air. You were disappointed with the loss of contact, but glad for the sense of normalcy. He knelt before you again and urged you to lift your leg with his hand around your calf, guiding one leg, then the other into your shorts, pulling them up until they rested comfortably on your hips.

He pulled his own pants on, the only thing he’d be wearing, and you finally reached for the bathroom door, ready to be able to see again even if it was only by candlelight.

It was like re-entering life, after being in the dark for so long. You turned to see if Anakin was following you, finding him close behind as he shut the door behind him, and just the sight of his ridiculously handsome face, gilded by the glow of the fire, set your heart aflame.

You needed his lips on yours. Now.

This time, he was taken by surprise with the intensity of your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, barely noticing as he fell back into the door slightly, hand finding your hip to steady you. His surprise quickly melted into an intensity that matched your own, hot lips sliding over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste, palm guiding your jaw just how he liked.

He kissed like he was drinking you in, breathing your air, as if he wished to share the same skin as you. And though you’d started it, now you were trying to keep up, head growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen as he began to guide you backward, onto the bed.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, the reality of the situation dawned on you. He wasn’t slowing down, and you didn’t want him to. His touch dragged fire across your flesh, tracing down the places he’d just worshiped under your clothes, pulling you so close to him you could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Your hands buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder for stability, grounding as he released your lips with a gasp, wasting no time before claiming the sensitive skin of your neck with the same furiosity. 

“Anakin,” you breathed, not really sure what you wanted to say. You just wanted to taste his name in your mouth, the way the syllables sounded so pretty, so perfect between your teeth.

He answered with a short “mmm,” listening but not really. He was too deep into it, kissing and sucking and nipping at your neck, tongue laving over the small hurts that his teeth dug into you. 

Somehow his flesh hand had drifted to the elastic of your shorts. You’d missed it before, too caught up in him toying with the skin over your pulsepoint. But now his fingers teased the elastic that he’d just put on you, and despite your livewire nerves and the pound of your heart, you lifted your hips in invitation.

His mouth detached from your neck, shocked again as he breathed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you forbid him from asking again by pulling him back to your lips. You needed the distraction, bracketing his jaw in both your hands as he pulled your shorts down your legs, slowly. Giving you time to back out.

You kicked them off once he reached your feet, flinging them out of sight. Anakin settled back between your thighs, your knees squeezing his waist, squirming as his touch now roamed free under your shirt.

“Anakin,” you pulled away to breathe once again, lips swollen and wet, filled with the taste of him. “I– I don’t know what to do.”

His eyelashes shuttered, delicate as a butterfly wing, and he leaned back in to peck you gently on the lips. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he murmured, eyes all melted and soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

There it was again. That blind trust. 

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d let him. Half dressed, strewn over the bed, all for his taking… and he moved down your body to recount the kisses he’d pressed to your stomach in the shower only moments before.

Your muscles clenched and unclenched, hips squirming as you felt an uncomfortable warmth, a wetness, an ache between your legs the further down he moved. You were no stranger to that feeling, or how to relieve it– but you were new to sharing it with someone else. Sharing it with him. 

Though it made you incredibly nervous to have him down there, the need for his touch outweighed everything. He kissed your stomach, hips, and thighs until he felt you relax under his palms, and only then did he slide his hands beneath your knees, pausing one last time to ask:

“Will you let me taste you?”

It felt like something exploded in your face, with the intensity that heat bloomed in your cheeks. Those bejeweled eyes shining in the candlelight, intent on you, hands clutching the plush softness of the backs of your thighs, breath ghosting over the bottom of your stomach– it was almost too much.

“Okay,” you answered quietly, nodding your head. “Y-yes.”

His responding grin was wicked – roguish. Broad hands pushed your legs up and spread them apart, baring it all for him to see.

It was quick– so quick you barely had time to be embarrassed, like ripping a bandaid off. He just… did it. And now he was looking at you, holding your thighs so steady in his strong grasp that you couldn’t even dream of closing them on him.

You threw a hand over your eyes, unable to watch him look at you.

“Baby,” he breathed, flesh hand releasing one of your legs so he could slot it between your thighs, thumb pulling you open a little. You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed as he studied you, only opening your eyes to look at him when he tugged at your wrist in silent demand.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” he teased, though when you blinked open your wet eyes to look at him, his face had melted into one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before pressing his lips to the swollen bud of your clit, taking you by surprise again. “The prettiest there ever was,” he smirked when he saw your reaction, pulling you open with both thumbs now so he could press a hot, deep, lingering kiss into you.

You gasped at the contact, blood rushing in your ears as your back bowed off the bed. Sparks of pleasure battled the humiliation as he continued planting sweet little suckling kisses to your clit, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

Once you’d relaxed back onto the bed, and the first pathetic whimper left your mouth, he let his tongue roam your folds, collecting your taste.

He knew this was new for you, so he went slow. Started gentle, getting you used to the feeling. And it was strange for you, just a little bit, but mostly it felt… good. So good. Indescribably good. So much so that you couldn’t believe you’d held out on this for so long.

Couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you now. 

Your hips twitched and jumped as his tongue traced down to your entrance, teasingly licking you in circles, using pressure like he might try to put it in. The thought had you reaching for the bedsheets, needing something to squeeze in your fists. One of his hands intercepted yours, bringing it back to your thigh so he could hold you still and let you squeeze his hand at the same time. 

He licked your arousal up, truly drinking you now, allowing his tongue to lave over your clit all slow and smooth and warm. You mewled, a sweet, innocent sound that went straight to his cock. With a desire to pull more pretty sounds from you, he kept drawing circles over your clit, increasing the pressure and speed until your eyes were closed, and you were biting your finger between your teeth, unable to help the sounds escaping you.

“Fuck, Ani–”  gasped, thighs falling open by themselves now, inviting him deeper. He licked you again, closing his lips at the top of your heat to suck your clit into his mouth, pulling it between his lips with a pulsing suction. 

He didn’t let up. 

Your muscles tensed, the fuzzy warmth building in your gut, between your legs, spreading down your thighs, becoming all consuming. And just when you thought it would burst, he let go.

“Shit,” you cried, breathless as your hips rocked against his mouth. He laughed, sticking his tongue out so you could hump the met muscle, hot breath fanning over your most sensitive parts. His teeth gleamed in the firelight, dark eyes trained on you, and you had to shut your own so you didn’t cum right there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulled his face away, pinching the inside of your thigh just enough to sting. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze again. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

His mouth, shining with your slick, lowered to your pussy again. And you couldn’t stop from moaning, hips canting up and down even though you knew it made his job more difficult. You just couldn’t help it– it felt too good. 

And he knew that, so he was nice. It was your first time, after all. So he relaxed the hold he had on your hips and let you squirm, just a little, to delude you into thinking you had even an ounce of control.

“You gonna cum in my mouth, sweet thing?” he spoke against your cunt, sealing the words off with a loud, wet, kiss. “Gonna make a mess for me?”

You’d never appreciated the velvety timber of his voice more than right now. 

“Mhm,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezing closed. And again, he let you. There would be other times to play his wicked games.

“Alright, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready,” he soothed, returning his mouth to your clit. He licked and sucked, sliding his tongue back down to your hole and breaching the entrance like he’d fantasized about doing with his cock for so long now, carving the exact path he would take. You gasped for air, humming it out in cute helpless whines and whimpers, cheeks permanently stained in a flush.

“Anakin, I–” you wanted to say you loved him, no matter how pathetic that sounded. But it was true, it was all you could feel as his lips suctioned around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue in torturous circles. You loved him, loved his mind and his body, and the way his lips and tongue were pulling that glorious wave of heat from out of you now, swallowing the gush of hot slick that escaped from your pulsing hole.

He brought you down with his thumb on your clit, soothing gentle circles into it as you cried, body shaking and jerking beneath him. He watched you come undone with a small smile on his face, not allowing you to escape his attention for even a moment. 

The last gulp of air that you took to settle your shivering muscles felt like the sweetest breath you’d ever taken. Anakin climbed back up your body, hands sliding over your knees, so he could kiss you deep on the lips.

You tasted yourself – it wasn’t bad… slightly salty, but not quite. That mixed with the taste of Anakin had your brain turn to mush again, lips lazy and compliant under his.

“See how good you taste?” he hummed, going back in to flirt his tongue around yours. “Fucking delicious.”

“Anakin–” you were pushing at his chest now, the buffer of arousal no longer shielding you from so much embarrassment. He laughed as you covered your face with your hands, immediately trying to tug them away again.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted with that lover’s pur, and you pouted once he finally succeeded in seeing your face again. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, still smiling. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, unable to fight back your own matching smile. “‘T was so good, Ani. Didn’t think… didn’t think it’d be like that.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head, leaning into his warm palm as he cupped your cheek, thumb still stroking your bottom lip. “Thank you. Do you– do you want me to…”

It took him a second before he realized what you were talking about. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down, then laughed. “No– no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, mirth and adoration oozing from his gaze. “But I can handle it tonight. Think that was enough for you.”

You pouted again, about to insist, but he kept you quiet with a kiss. “Another time, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, complaisant.

“Good.” With a deep breath of his own, he lifted himself off of you, carefully closing your legs so they wouldn’t ache from being held open for so long. “Wait here,” he requested, and then left for the bathroom again.

He grabbed the towel you both had used, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you open up for me?” he asked, fingers sliding around your thigh in silent request.

Your face burned even harder than before, somehow, as you fulfilled his request, spreading your legs a bit so he could clean you up. It was a strange feeling, almost more intimate than what he’d previously been doing– but it was quick, and it felt nice now that your arousal was all cleaned up, and he could slip your shorts back on with you having to get up. 

Anakin retreated back to the bathroom and was gone for a few long moments. You had an idea of what he was doing, another burst of heat blooming in your stomach at the thought of what was going on behind that door. You had half a mind to suggest helping him again. You were more than willing.

But he came out only a short time later to find that you’d straightened all the sheets, and were now waiting by the pillows for him to come back to bed with you. He blew out the candles as he passed them by, getting into the bed and wasting no time pulling you onto his chest.

He’d never felt closer to you. And you, him.

In the morning, you’d probably be embarrassed again, recalling what you’d done. The storm outside seemed to trap you in a bubble, your own world, and everything else seemed so far away now.

You pressed your palm to his chest, letting the strong thud, thud, thud of his heart lull you to sleep. Before he could feel you drift off, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, and you heard it in your dreams. 

divider from @saradika

[munsons-melody]

sick day

summary: eddie cuts class to come help you get over your cold

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

cw: none + established relationship

word count: 1.5 k

a/n: i thought this was a v cute concept

masterslist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

you were undeniably, undoubtedly sick.

what started out as a sniffle from the day before turned into a full-blown-out nasty cold. you could only blame the weather for the illness.

it was a gloomy tuesday morning, and upon hearing your groggy voice and horrific cough in the morning, your mother sent you straight back to bed and called the school to tell them you weren't coming in.

you ended up falling back asleep for a handful of hours, trying to avoid the torture of being awake with a headache, a sore throat, and uncontrollable coughing. however you were soon woken up by your phone ringing.

"hello?" you sleepily croaked out, your voice hoarse from the amount of coughing you had succumbed to

"hey y/n, why aren't you in class?" you heard eddie ask, the sounds of people talking behind him. he was using the school phone to call you.

"i'm dying," you told him, sniffling a little bit. "what?" he asked in confusion

"i got the worst cold ever and i'm dying" you said again, feeling a cough coming on

"oh shit, how are you feeling?" he asked and you rolled your eyes

"actually I'm doing great thanks," you responded sarcastically

"sorry, that was a stupid question" he said. you heard the bell ring in the background and some shuffling noises

"i gotta go babe but i love you, feel better" he told you, making you smile. "i love you too" you said as you heard a click and the dial tone ring out.

you coughed a couple more times, causing your throat to burn with pain. you groggily pushed yourself up from your laying position and sat on the edge of your bed

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and your looks had mirrored how you felt; like shit

your nose was bright pink from the countless times you had to blow your nose, cheeks were flushed, hair was in the messiest braid ever, your dark circles engulfed your eyes from the lack of sleep you got the previous night. you were wearing a giant shirt with garfield on it, some baggy pj pants, and you knew if anyone were to see how you did now, they would be disgusted

you went and used the bathroom, then went to the kitchen to search for something to eat that wouldn't make you more nauseous but failed to do so 

the house was quiet, the only thing you could really hear was the birds chirping and cars passing outside. you stood there, enjoying the silence, sipping on your water

you headed back to your room in attempts to fall asleep again, but after tossing and turning for a good 10 minutes, you sat up with a huff

just as you resigned yourself to the rest of the day filled with solitude and sniffles, a knock echoed through the house. startled, you slowly made your way to the front door, your stuffy nose adding an extra layer of annoyance to your condition.

you looked through the peephole to see eddie standing there with a large brown bag in hand. he looked so good wearing his black sabbath t shirt and ripped black jeans, his white reeboks giving a pop of white.

you slowly opened the door, only leaving a little bit of it open to avoid him from fully seeing you. it’s not like you always wore tons of makeup, just enough to boost your confidence, and eddie had seen you completely without makeup only a handful of times, but you didn’t want him to see the horrific sight which was you with the worst cold

"eddie, what are you doing here?" you asked with a raspy voice

eddie flashed his trademark grin, holding up the bag in his hand. "since you're sick, i thought i could be of some assistance. i brought you some homemade chicken soup. wayne swears on it" he said sweetly

"thank you baby that's so sweet," you said with a smile, before furrowing your brows

“wait where did you get homemade chicken soup?” you asked and he blinked

“oh well technically it’s campbells… but it works just the same, i swear, scouts honor” he smiled, lifting three fingers

he started to walk in but you shut the door more

"i don't want to get you sick" you told him and he shook his head 

"i have the immune system of an ostrich!" he declared and you let out a giggle which turned into a nasty cough 

"oh baby," he said sympathetically, standing up the next stair to the doorway 

"c'mon let me take care of you please, just until your parents get home?" he asked with the sweetest tone

"eds i have to be honest, i look absolutely disgusting right now, i don't want you seeing me like this" your voice faded into a whisper

"y/n, i can promise you that nothing you do or have will make me less attracted to you, i love you in every conceivable way now can i please just come in and heat your soup up for you?” he begged, giving you puppy dog eyes

you slowly opened the door, revealing your sick state to eddie and he smiled, walking in to your house and immediately giving you a kiss on the forehead

“jesus you’re burning up” he said taken aback and you rolled your eyes

“no shit sherlock” you huffed as he walked into your kitchen

“well i guess the first symptom of this cold is hate” he joked with a smile and you shook your head at him, shutting the door

“so how come you were able to come here in the middle of the school day?” you questioned, leaning against the kitchen counter as he poured your soup from the can into a pot

“i just went to the nurses and told them i was feeling sick and apparently there’s something going around the school so they believed me and sent me home” eddie shrugged, turning up the heat on the stove

“so that’s what i got” you said, crossing your arms

“maybe” eddie said, eyes staying on the soup to make sure it didn’t boil over

“wait what did you mean you have the immune system of an ostrich?” you asked, realizing what he said earlier

“yeah they have one of the best immune systems, it’s a fact” he said nonchalantly and you laughed

“and how do you know what?” you asked as he turned off the stove

“well when i was growing up, wayne had the day shift and after school i’d go to the library to read before he’d come and pick me up, i learned it from some nature book” eddie smiled, and handed you the steaming hot bowl of soup

“thank you” you said, your stomach suddenly making countless noises and rumbling, since you hadn’t ate anything all day

you sat at your kitchen table and ate your soup, and eddie munched on a couple saltines you had from your cupboard

“yeah and luckily i had a test i didn’t study for at all for 7th period so i get more time to study” eddie said and you nodded, not really caring in that moment if you secretly knew you had to help him study because you were so hungry, the soup vanishing in front of you

“mhm” you mutter out, finishing the rest of the soup and chugging some water

“feel better?” eddie asked and you nodded. honestly you did. now that your stomach had shut up and power of chicken noddle soup was finally coming to fruition, you felt the tiredness loom back over you

you yawned and stretched your arms out and eddie could see the sudden drop in the little bit of energy you had earlier

“now back to bed young lady” he said in a not so stern voice and you listened, getting up with your bowl in hand and placing it in the sink

eddie followed you into your room and shut the door. you put some of the tissues that were discarded on the floor and put them in the trash, and then instantly cuddled into your sheets, pulling them around you

eddie took off his jacket and shoes, walking over to the other side of the bed

“ed’s what are you doing? i told you i don’t want you to get sick” you said, and he just smiled, taking off his pants and then crawling into the empty space next to you

“i don’t care sweetheart, all i care about is you feeling better and i know that you’ll sleep better with me here, it’s a fact” he said, pulling you in close

“oh really? did you learn that in your nature book as well?” you asked with a slight laugh and he kissed your head

“no, i just know you that well” he said, letting you lean your head against him

you felt the sleepiness wash over you like a wave on a beach, and you just let your eyes close, feeling eddie’s chest move against your back

you were a little jealous he could breathe through his nose without the annoyance of it being stuffy but you didn’t care because he was right, you do sleep better with him near

fin.

[radiojamming]

Hey guys! We're looking at another severe weather outbreak tomorrow evening/night and it's shaping up to potentially get nasty. Like, bad enough that storm chasers I know are already either leaving for southern Kansas and northern Oklahoma, or backing out entirely because they're worried about what's going to happen. Last time, the post I made got a little bit of traction, so I thought I'd go for it again on the off chance that it's helpful at all.

Here are the following regions currently set to be impacted, according to today's (5/24) outlook from the Storm Prediction Center:

MODERATE (MDT): Oklahoma City, OK; Tulsa, OK; Wichita, KS; Norman, OK; Lawton, OK

ENHANCED (ENH): Kansas City, MO; Overland Park, KS; Kansas City, KS; Topeka, KS; Olathe, KS

SLIGHT (SLGT): Lincoln, NE; Springfield, MO; Abilene, TX; St. Joseph, MO; Fayetteville, AR

MARGINAL (MRGL): Dallas, TX; Columbus, OH; Fort Worth, TX; Cleveland, OH; Omaha, NE

The SPC will update this forecast tomorrow (5/25) morning and will monitor it throughout the day and make changes if need be.

Here are my tips (as well as @fruitsmother's great advice!) from the outbreak two weeks ago.

Another great resource for right-to-the-minute weather updates is Ryan Hall, who will more than likely livestream tomorrow and is great about providing watches and warnings as they come in and giving advice about what to do. He also runs a 501(c)(3) non-profit The Y'All Squad that provides assistance and relief in areas hit by severe weather events.

Just to hit some key points for this forecast and reiterate the biggest pieces of advice:

These storms are forecasted to produce damaging winds, large hail, and potentially strong or violent tornadoes. These storms may hit during the night, meaning there will be low visibility. Do not just rely on sight to monitor the weather; rotation may occur right above you and not all tornadoes are immediately visible. Listen to NOAA weather radio, news stations, or any other resource you may have.

If the weather gets bad, go to a basement or the lowest level of a building. If the building doesn't have a basement, go to the most interior room (usually a bathroom or closet) with no windows. If in a bathroom, consider bringing in couch cushions, pillows, or a mattress to cover yourself in case of falling debris.

Stay away from windows, especially with the potential for high winds and hail. Do not open your windows (see: common tornado myths).

DO NOT GO OUTSIDE TO WATCH. Even if there isn't a tornado, flying debris and huge pieces of hail falling at incredible speeds are a real issue! If you've never gotten clocked in the head with an ice chunk, now is not the time to find out how it feels!

If you haven't already done so, now is the best time to consider your severe weather plan and set up your safe place. Some items you might want to have on hand are things like flashlights or lanterns, extra batteries, phone chargers, food, water, clothing, blankets, several days' worth of medicine if needed, and a first aid kit. If you have pets, it might be best to put pet carriers, extra food, water, leashes, or anything else you may need in this area as well.

Review some basic first aid skills and tips.

If you're on the road, do not go up under an overpass. This is very '90s advice and has been proven either ineffective or outright dangerous. Go into a ditch and try to get yourself as low as possible.

In the worst case scenario of a tornado or other destructive event (microbursts, derechos, etc.), be a help, not a hindrance! Don't clog roadways; allow emergency personnel to get where they need to go!

Just as well, this is not a day for amateur storm chasers. Chaser convergence has been a real problem this year and as we've learned (unfortunately) in the past, tornadoes don't always follow their usual rules, which can put even the most seasoned chaser in danger. This is going to be a great day to watch Pecos Hank or Skip Talbot videos while being as safe as possible.

I'll keep you guys updated as the models from the SPC change or if anything else comes up. Mostly, stay safe!

[cherryrainn]

Could you please do a onceler caring for sick reader plzzz like hurt/comfort sort thing that would be really good 😊

ooh yes, this is gonna be so cute. also props to this person for giving me all these awesome ideas!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— your presence is an antidote

onceler x sick!reader

the morning sun gently bathed the room in a warm, golden glow as you stirred in bed, feeling utterly drained and unwell. every muscle in your body ached, and even the slightest movement sent waves of discomfort through your weakened frame. as you weakly shifted in bed, you heard a soft rustling of footsteps approaching.

the door creaked open, and onceler entered, his eyes widening with concern as he took in your pale complexion. with a soft smile, he approached you, his voice filled with genuine care.

"oh no, y/n," onceler exclaimed softly, his voice laced with worry. "you look... miserable. what happened to my bundle of energy? you're supposed to be full of sass and mischief, not sick!"

you mustered a weak smile, grateful for his presence in this moment of vulnerability. "i think i caught a nasty bug. i feel awful."

onceler's expression softened further, and he nodded sympathetically, his fingers brushing gently against your forehead. "well, don't cha worry, y/n! dr. onceler's here to the rescue! i'll make sure you're back on your feet in no time." he said with a chuckle.

with a tender touch, onceler helped you sit up, arranging a mountain of pillows behind your back to provide support. he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and a glass of water.

"first things first, we need to cool that overheated head of yours," onceler said playfully, placing the cool cloth on your forehead. "and hydration is key, so drink up!"

you sipped the water gratefully, feeling the soothing coolness slide down your throat. onceler settled beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in your discomfort.

"now, you just sit back, relax, and let the expert take care of you," onceler declared with a mischievous wink.

as the day wore on, onceler transformed into your personal nurse. he fetched extra blankets to keep you warm, adjusted the room temperature to your liking, and made sure you had everything within arm's reach. he prepared a steaming cup of herbal tea, its comforting aroma wafting through the room and enveloping you in a sense of warmth.

"you gotta rest and get all your strength back." onceler said gently, urging you to lie back down. "i'll take care of everything, just focus on getting better."

as you settled back into bed, onceler's presence brought a sense of comfort and reassurance. he fetched a stack of your favorite movies, arranged them on the bedside table, and selected a cozy blanket from the closet, carefully tucking it around you.

"and for some extra healing power, i present to you... the magical movie marathon!" onceler proclaimed with a flourish, his voice filled with whimsy. "even though you're sick, that's not gonna stop me from tryna bring a smile to that face."

true to his word, onceler sat beside you, holding your hand as the movies played. he laughed at the funny scenes, mimicked the characters' accents, and occasionally paused to bring you a warm bowl of soup or a cup of hot cocoa.

as the day wore on, you couldn't shake off the feeling of fatigue and a persistent cough that had settled in your chest. concerned, onceler hovered nearby, his brow furrowed with worry. just as you were attempting to sip on a cup of hot tea, a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"well, well, what do we have here? y/n, you feelin' under the weather?" the lorax inquired, peering at you with a mix of concern and amusement.

you nodded weakly, mustering a small smile. "yeah, i'm not feeling so great."

onceler's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. "yup, y/n's sick. what brilliant plan you got in your mind?" he asks the lorax in a playful manner.

the lorax stroked his mustache, thinking deeply. "well, how about we go sit outside and soak up some fresh air? nature's healing powers are just what the doctor ordered!"

onceler's eyes widened in disbelief, and he quickly interjected, "what? they're not going outside when they're sick! come on, think of something better!"

the lorax scratched his head, his mustache twitching. "hmm, well, in that case, maybe a spoonful of honey mixed with a dash of cinnamon could help soothe their throat."

onceler rolled his eyes, unable to contain his skepticism. "oh, sure, because that's a cure-all! listen, let's leave the remedies to the experts. y/n needs rest, comfort, and some good ol' chicken noodle soup."

the lorax pouted, his voice tinged with disappointment. "alright, if ya' say so. i'm just tryna help, ya' know."

with a wave of his hand, onceler playfully dismissed the lorax. "sure. now, why don't you go check on those trees or something? we'll handle the sick bay here."

you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. onceler's playful banter and ability to create lighthearted moments even in the midst of your illness brought a sense of warmth and comfort.

as you enjoyed the nourishing soup and basked in onceler's care, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence. he may not have needed the lorax's advice, but his own brand of loving attention was exactly what you needed to feel better.

together, you and onceler spent the evening watching your favorite movies, sharing stories, and occasionally bursting into fits of laughter. his company lifted your spirits, making the illness seem like a minor inconvenience rather than a burden.

as night descended, onceler tucked you snugly into his bed, making sure you were warm and cozy. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with tenderness.

"rest well, sleepyhead. tomorrow's a new day, and i got a feeling you'll bounce back with more energy than ever!"

with a final smile and a kiss on the forehead, onceler dimmed the lights and quietly left the room, leaving you to drift off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that you were in the caring hands of someone who loved you deeply.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

gahd dang it, what would Levi do if you’re about to leave the house and he sees you wearing one of those sexy costumes???? practically lingerie with extra steps, NASTY STUFF

hi!! so i didn't originally plan this part in it, but i wanted to do a 2-part piece for halloween to make up for not participating in kinktober and this provided me with just what i needed for the first part 😭

part 2 here!

Basically Lingerie | Halloween Smut Two-Shot Part 1

✧ word count ➼ < 900 ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, suggestive, levi being kinda possessive but not wanting to admit it, fem!reader, nothing too explicit in this part but i still don't want minors interacting so MDNI!!!

You were lucky to live in a warmer area, so it being later into the fall rarely affected your ability to wear what you wanted, no matter what the weather was, although that likely wouldn't have stopped you regardless. It was Halloween and you were invited to one of the bigger parties in the neighborhood. You felt obligated to dress up, not wanting to be the lone party pooper in the room.

Levi wasn't the type to get jealous. He didn't really give too many shits if other people were flirting with you or if you were being overly friendly. He trusted you. He wasn't the type to get seriously possessive (at least, not to your knowledge), so you didn't suspect that you basically wearing lingerie to a Halloween party would bother him at all.

You exited the bedroom and brushed yourself off as you finished making sure your hair was in place properly. You were wearing a pair of shorts that tightly hugged your ass, although it looked more like underwear than it did shorts. Your vest had thin straps attached to it, making it more like a tank top, and was tight enough that it was pushing your tits all the way up to the point that they were on the verge of potentially spilling out over the top if you moved around too much.

It was basically lingerie. Your ass was too visible if you bent over and your tits were constantly threatening to fall out.

Levi was already disgruntled about having to go to a crowded party at baseline, and was caught completely off-guard when he saw what you were wearing as you came out of the bedroom. He immediately felt his face heating up, with the back of his neck rapidly turning pink, and he shuffled around uncomfortably.

His eyes fell on your tits and ass and although he's seen you naked plenty of times before, seeing you in this costume, with your assets being just out of sight made his entire body feel warm. Quiet thoughts of fucking you then and there to get a quickie in before leaving ebbed and flowed in his mind.

Mixed in with those thoughts were some that he rarely verbalized. The idea that other people would be seeing you like this, with some having similar thoughts, maintained the frown on his face, allowing him to hide how flustered he actually was upon seeing you. The possessive thoughts were just a tad stronger than the horny ones.

"What?" you asked, noticing that he was just glaring at you.

"Really?" he asked with a significant amount of skepticism in his voice.

You tilted your head at him in confusion, unsure what he was referring to, until you saw his eyes scan your body before looking back into your eyes with his clearly displeased ones. You immediately felt your cheeks heating up.

"Wh-What?" you asked defensively. "It's Halloween!"

"And what does that have to do with you showing up half-naked to a party?" he grumbled as he questioned your statement.

You weirdly felt the need to cover yourself up, despite intentionally dressing up in an outfit that was supposed to be blatantly revealing.

"You hated the maid costume last year, so I couldn't wear that," you reasoned.

Levi was hesitant to admit it, but he knew that the reason why he 'hated' the maid costume was because it showed off your tits a bit too much, but this new costume—whatever it was supposed to be—was significantly worse in that regard.

Sure, part of it was some lingering possessiveness, but the part that bothered him the most was that it was just going to make him uncomfortably horny the whole night.

"You can come half-naked too," you teased.

Your comment ripped him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, the frown lines on his forehead intensifying. "No thanks."

He continued staring at you for a while before finally sighing. He was quite uncomfortable with the costume, but he wasn't going to tell you to change. Not only was it a dick move on his end, but the request would likely cause you to want to do the exact opposite.

"Whatever," he grumbled, grabbing onto his car keys. "Let's just go."

Based on his reaction, you already knew that Levi was going to be grumpy all night. While he was generally aloof at baseline, him being blatantly grumpy the entire time was just going to throw you off.

Plus, you did feel kind of bad.

"Actually, you know what?" you suddenly asked, turning back towards the bedroom. "I changed my mind. Wearing this all night would've been uncomfortable anyway."

You weren't even putting any effort into making your reasoning sound believable. Levi knew that you were lying. You weren't changing because it was going to be uncomfortable for you to wear. You were changing because he had gotten all grumpy about it, even if that wasn't his intention.

Still, you felt the need to wear something. You dug through your closet, trying to find another costume that you had lined up that you could just change into without any extra hassle. There were two that your eyes immediately fell on.

Hmm...maid or fairy?

#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @meltingforthatackerman @chocoyanchan join my taglist! (and lmk if you want to be taken off :3)

[axlerica]

SICK DAY~

-The one where Pedri is sick and being such a baby and his gf takes care of him-

One chilly winter morning, Pedri woke up feeling unwell. He had caught a nasty cold and was feeling quite under the weather. Y/N, his loving partner, noticed his discomfort and decided to take care of him.

Y/N: "Pedri, are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale."

Pedri tried to smile but couldn't hide his fatigue. "I think I caught a cold. I'm just feeling a bit weak."

Y/N: "Oh no, I'm sorry to hear that. Don't worry; I'll take care of you."

Throughout the day, Y/N made sure Pedri was warm and comfortable. She brought him blankets, brewed some hot tea, and even put on his favorite football match to lift his spirits. But Pedri's appetite was nonexistent, and he didn't feel like eating anything.

Y/N: "You need to eat something to regain your strength. How about some warm porridge? It'll be easy on your throat."

Pedri: "I don't feel like eating babe. My throat hurts."

Y/N: "Come on, Pedri, I’ll make it for you, so that you will feel better."

Pedri pouted like a child, but Y/N wasn't one to give up easily.

Y/N: "Please, for me? You know I hate seeing you like this."

Pedri's expression softened at Y/N's words. "Okay, fine. But only because you make it."

Y/N: "Okay now you should stay in bed and rest. I'll take care of everything for you."

Pedri weakly protested, "But I don't want you to do everything alone. I can help."

Y/N smiled sweetly, placing a gentle hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

Y/N: "No no no, your temperature is too high baby, Don't worry about it. Your priority right now is to get better. I'll take care of you, my love."

As Y/N went into the kitchen to prepare a warm bowl of porridge for Pedri, he tried to follow her, wanting to help. However, his legs felt wobbly, and he stumbled a little, earning a worried glance from Y/N.

Y/N: "Pedri, you really need to stay in bed. I don't want you to get more exhausted."

Pedri sighed, reluctantly returning to the bed.

Pedri: "Alright, I'll stay in bed, but you have to promise to let me help you when I feel better."

Y/N chuckled, "Of course my love. Now, rest while I make you some comforting porridge."

In the kitchen, Y/N carefully cooked the porridge, adding some extra love and care. She knew how much Pedri loved her cooking, and she hoped it would lift his spirits.

When the porridge was ready, Y/N brought it to Pedri, who was now lying down with a slight frown on his face.

Y/N: "Here you go, baby. Eat this, it'll make you feel better."

Pedri sighed dramatically, "I'm not really hungry right now.."

Y/N's eyes sparkled mischievously, and she decided to use a tactic she knew would work.

Y/N: "Oh, come on, schmoopie boo, just one spoon for me?"

Pedri's eyes widened at the playful nickname Y/N used only on special occasions.

Pedri: "Schmoopie boo? Really?"

Y/N laughed, "Yes, seriously. It's a special name for my special baby, and I think it suits you perfectly."

Pedri couldn't help but smile at Y/N's charm and affectionate teasing. He then finally took a small spoonful, but his frown didn't go away.

Pedri: "It's bland… I can’t taste anything, can you add some more salt or something? "

Y/N chuckled, seeing through his attempt to get out of eating the porridge.

Y/N: "Nice try, but no. You need to eat it as it is baby."

Pedri grumbled but reluctantly continued to eat. However, the porridge seemed to taste better with each bite, not because of any added salt, but because it was made by the one he loved.

Y/N: "That's it my schmoopie boo. Keep going, it'll make you feel better."

Pedri rolled his eyes playfully, but he couldn't help but smile at Y/N's determination to take care of him.

Pedri: "Fine, but only because you called me schmoopie boo."

Y/N laughed heartily, using the nickname she knew Pedri secretly loved.

Y/N: "You know you're my adorable schmoopie boo, and I'll always take care of you."

Y/N: "You know what would make you feel even better, schmoopie?"

Pedri chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going.

Pedri: "A kiss on the lips, right?"

Y/N grinned mischievously, "Oh, you wish! But you're still recovering, remember? I don't want to risk catching your cold."

Pedri pouted, but he understood Y/N's concern. He didn't want to get her sick either.

Pedri: "Fair enough. How about a kiss on the forehead then?"

Y/N's eyes softened with affection.

Y/N: "Of course, schmoopie."

Pedri leaned in, and Y/N placed a tender kiss on his forehead, sending a wave of warmth and care through him.

Pedri: " Aww, thank you, my sweet schmoopie."

Y/N: "You're welcome baby. Now, finish your porridge, and I'll go get you some more tea and medicine."

Pedri nodded.

Y/N: "Alright now, you need to take this medicine. It will help you recover faster, okay?”

Pedri: "But it tastes terrible, and I hate taking medicine."

Y/N: "I understand, but it's for your own good. Please, just one spoonful, and I promise I'll make it up to you."

Pedri crossed his arms, looking like a stubborn child.

Pedri: "I don't know... Can't you give me a kiss on the lips instead?"

Y/N laughed, trying to hide the amusement in her voice.

Y/N: "Nice try, but you know that's not a fair trade. Medicine is essential for your health."

Pedri continued to pout, but Y/N knew just how to handle him.

Y/N: "Alright, here's the deal. You take the medicine, and I'll give you three forehead kisses."

Pedri raised an eyebrow, considering the offer.

Pedri: "Three? That's it?"

Y/N: "Three, and they'll be extra sweet, I promise."

Pedri hesitated for a moment before finally relenting.

Pedri: "Okay, fine, but only because I can't resist your forehead kisses."

Y/N smiled, handing Pedri the medicine.

Y/N: "Good choice, schmoopie. Now, open wide and take it like a champ."

Pedri reluctantly swallowed the medicine, making a face as he did so.

Pedri: "Ugh, that was awful."

Y/N grinned, leaning in to deliver on her promise.

Y/N: "You did great! Now, here come your forehead kisses."

Y/N placed three tender kisses on Pedri's forehead, and he couldn't help but smile, feeling a little better already.

Pedri: "You're a sneaky one. But thanks for taking care of me."

Y/N hugged him tightly, knowing that even with a bit of teasing, taking care of Pedri was a labor of love.

Y/N: "Always, schmoopie. Now rest, and let the medicine work its magic."

After taking the medicine, Pedri settled back into bed, and Y/N placed a damp cloth on his forehead to reduce his fever.

Y/N: "There, the damp cloth should help bring down your fever and make you feel more comfortable."

Pedri closed his eyes, feeling the soothing sensation of the damp cloth on his forehead.

Pedri: "Thank you amor, you always know how to take care of me."

Y/N smiled, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Y/N: "My pleasure love. Now rest, okay? Get some sleep."

As Pedri closed his eyes, he felt grateful for Y/N's love and care. With Y/N by his side, he knew he would recover in no time.

In the quiet moments that followed, Y/N continued to sit by his side, occasionally brushing her fingers through his hair and whispering sweet words of comfort as he drifted off to sleep..

As the day went on, Y/N continued to take care of Pedri, making sure he had everything he needed to recover fully. She would occasionally sneak in playful forehead kisses, knowing it brought a smile to Pedri's face.

Two days later, Pedri's cold had subsided significantly, thanks to Y/N's love and care. As they snuggled up together on the couch, Pedri couldn't help but express his gratitude.

Pedri: "You know, I couldn't have asked for a better partner. You make everything better, my sweet schmoopie. Te quiero mucho mi amor. “

Y/N blushed, feeling adored and cherished.

Y/N: "And I couldn't have asked for a better schmoopie boo. You bring so much joy into my life and I love you more baby."

Pedri couldn't help but feel grateful for Y/N's presence in his life. Being sick might not have been ideal, but having Y/N by his side made it a little more bearable.

[adobe-outdesign]

omg can you review the mighty poogle 🥺

The Poogle is one of those really abstract Neopets wherein it's just a Creature(TM). What kind of creature? Who knows. I guess they're meant to be vaguely dog-like (seeing as Poogle racing is a thing, and it does sound vaguely like "poodle"), but they really don't lean towards any one specific animal, which is always something I enjoy.

What makes Poogles appealing is undeniably how chubby they are; it makes them look extra cuddly and is part of what gives them their distinctive noses (or lack thereof) and double chins. It also comes with a bit of lore about them living primarily in cold-weather regions, kind of like how seals have blubber to keep them warm.

Beyond that, I also like their stripes; they break up the design just enough without feeling too distracting, similar to their underbellies. The shape of the stripes is also mimicked by their distinctive ears.

I will fully admit though: Poogles got the raw end of the deal when it comes to customization. Not the absolute worst conversion job, mind you, as for the most part they look pretty dang similar—same pose, same proportions, same markings, etc.

However, what got completely messed up is their faces. Originally, Poogles had a soft, fleshy snoot that had two sets of lines to indicate that it was mostly fat and that it went back in space a bit. Removing this upper line makes their snouts look hard, and also has the side effect of making their snout and even their entire head look too wide.

Likewise, the chin got messed up. The Poogle originally had a pretty distinct double chin/fat neck that, once again, showed how chubby they were. More importantly, their chin lines weren't closed off, so their heads bled directly into their bodies. On converted Poogles, they now just look like they have one weird normal chin instead of a chin and neck. The end result is actually kind of uncanny if you stare at them for too long. It's a shame, because like I said, everything else about the conversion works, and there was no reason to change the elements they did. They're still cute, mind you, just slightly less so.

Favorite colours:

MSP: Species-specific colors always tend to be iconic and a delight, and MSP Poogles certainly are no exception. They're basically the same thing as a regular plushie Poogle, except Evil(TM), with red eyes and a nasty set of sharp teeth (side note: canonically, all Poogles actually have sharp teeth; you just rarely see them). The unconverted version also is bipedal, unlike the regular unconverted plushie, which was quadrupedal.

Both converted and unconverted MSPs have a super fun chaotic gremlin energy to them, and both designs are good depending on which stance you prefer (I kind of like the converted quadrupedal, though granted, the loss of some stitching and extra softness is a bit of a shame.)

Toy: This color literally just released last month, but a toy Poogle based off of the good old iDog is just delightful. Even if you don't know anything about iDogs, the design is still good, with the eyes serving to complete a multi-colored hexagon that draws attention to the head, and the rest of the body considering of just a smooth off-white and black.

Zombie: The mindless eyes on this one are just absolutely delightful and give it a ton of personality. I also like the details, such as a few stitches here and there, a scraggly mouth, scratch lines against the usual stripes, and liver spots. As a bonus, it looks good both with PB clothing and without.

BONUS: I don't normally mention "recolor" Neopets as much on these reviews just because they tend to be mostly by-the-numbers, but the pastle Poogle is honestly gorgeous, with subtle gradients and a low-contrast blue and pink color scheme, helped by colored lineart. It's nothing fancy, but it's definitely one of the all-time best pastels out there.

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Welcome to my Nightmare Ch. 1

Here is the first chapter of the rewrite!

Masterlist

Chapter One: Santa Carla

Dry heat. The only two words that could describe the hellscape that Santa Carla, California was. I was just now realizing that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into, getting states away from home. The horrors of the grimy truckstop showers should have been an omen not to come here, but I was determined to get away. To start new. To be. . . different. 

I had hitchhiked what felt like hundreds of miles, but I knew that wasn’t possible. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was not getting some serial killer-rapist to pick me up. So far, I had gotten nice people, families, and old run-down people that were once me. The Sun’s lasers blasted at me like I was Princess Leia.  I was definitely going to get a sunburn after this. I held my thumb up for the millionth time to plead with someone to not let me die of a heatstroke out here. No luck.

The dry dirt crunched under my boots as I walked down the side of the highway into California. A “Welcome to Santa Carla California!” the sign taunted me. As I passed, something told me to glance back. Some punk had spray painted the phrase “MURDER CAPITAL OF THE WORLD” in a fitting, blood red. I suppose maybe that should have been my omen to quit while I was ahead. Of course, I didn’t listen. I had hithicked and been through some of the nasties and sketchiest places to get her. Murder Capital of the World wasn’t going to shock me. More people means more crime anyway. 

This time, my thumb yielded an old red Toyota to take pity on me. Once inspecting my saviors, I understood why an older woman had stopped. She had two children in her car. Maybe she saw herself, or her kids, in me. Maybe the husky that was desperate to sniff me begged her to pull over. 

“Hi, are you alright? Do you need a ride?” A sweet and delicate voice emanated from her gentle expression. Murder Capital of the World, am I right? Her two sons, the older brunette, and younger blonde, eyed me suspiciously. ALthough, they didn’t seem too concerned with their mother picking up a total stranger. Maybe she did this often.

“Yes ma’am, I just need a ride into town.” I explained. If I got a cheap hotel, maybe I could settle down a bit. I glanced into the old vehicle, it seemed a little over crowded. The two teenages didn’t seem to want to share their precious car space, especially with a husky on the blonde’s lap. Who drags a Husky into this kind of weather?

“Michael, move over just a little. Would you?” The woman’s turquoise necklace with wings caught my eye. It looked almost like a Journey album cover. Michale, the older brunette guy, side eyed me. Not wanting to displease his mother, moved over just a little. 

I grabbed the sun bleached handle and opened the car to scoot towards Michael. I tried not to take up too much space, I was a sweaty hitchhiker. It seemed like any space I took up was too much. 

“Thanks, I’m (Y/N).” I gestured my open palm towards Michael to shake. 

“I’m Michael,” he thankfully shook my hand and didn’t seem too upset about me being in the car. “That’s Sam, Nanook, and my mom–”

“I’m Lucy by the way.” She laughed. 

“It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for giving me a ride, I really do appreciate it.” I thanked Lucy. Sam muttered something about not asking for another one. His mother’s displeased look stopped him from saying anything else.

“So, you’re staging with some family?” Lucy glanced at me through the rearview mirror. 

“Oh, uh. I just . . . um. . .” I can’t believe that I was completely choking up. Shit. “Yeah, but only for a little bit.” I hoped that was enough to convince her. It wasn’t. 

“Oh, they couldn’t drop you off?” She questioned. 

“Well, they don’t have a car, so I just walk everywhere.”  

“If you need somewhere to stay for a bit, we have extra room.” Lucy reached for my hand behind the seats. 

“Mom–” Sam objected. I couldn’t blame him. 

“Sam! Be nice. I raised you better than that!” She scolded. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay with us if you need. Really, we do have plenty of room.” Lucy seemed more concerned for me that I was about myself.

Was it really a bad idea? Maybe. Was I going to take it anyway. Yeah! A rent free place to stay, why wouldn’t I take that? Plus, I could cook, clean, or pay rent after I got a job, so it wasn’t like I was taking advantage of them. I only had sixty bucks left, so not enough to stay at a motel for very long.

“Are you sure? I really don't want to take up unwanted space.” put on a sweet and naive voice. I couldn’t make it too obvious that I wanted to stay. Sam and Michael would be a little harder to convince, but I could do it. 

/|\^._.^/|\

Along the ride, I learned the family’s name was the Emerson’s, freshly moving to Santa Carla after a not-so-great divorce. I thought it was interesting to move so far away, even if Lucy’s father was here. Did she not have siblings? Friends that could help her out? I wasn’t going to ask. Michael wasn’t too thrilled finishing his senior year in a completely different state, but he said he was going to try to make the best of it. Sam, on the other hand, was almost insulted that he had to relocate. A total mall-rat. California seemed right up his alley, every person who wanted to be someone, wanted to be in California. Not Sam though. 

The Emerson’s stopped at the boardwalk, which I had no idea was anything more than an expensive tourist trap. Lucy said she came here all the time when she was younger. I always thought it was just for rides and carnie good, but no, there were legitimate businesses. It looked like a couple of food joints, random stores, and a . . . pharmacy? Weird. Maybe it was cheap to rent here. Maybe tourists just got sick a lot. 

People were pouring out of every nook and cranny of these places, it was like an anthill. I hadn’t ever seen this many people since Black Friday, except with less fighting and stealing. The Emerson’s had split up and it looked almost impossible to figure out how they were going to  meet up. It was overwhelming, especially with how bright and hot it was. Maybe I needed that pharmacy. 

Sam and Nanook split, running around like wild children. Lucy and Michael went looking for jobs. I wasn’t really sure where to be, I also wanted a job, but I didn’t want to compete with Lucy or her son. Maybe if I look the next time we’re here, I’ll find one. 

Jesus Christ, it was bright. Somebody’s got to sell some shade, otherwise I was going to get a migraine. I scanned the sweaty maze of people, locating a small shop. The Sa’s Surf Shop sign looked over me. Jesus, there were so many people. I forced myself into the air conditioned shop. The smell of sunscreen, surf wax, and too many people that smelled like salty water and B.O. was so grody. I spotted a pair of round, cat eye sunglasses, with a teal rim. They sat discarded in a big with other various pairs. 

I picked up two similar pairs and wandered around the store pretending to be a customer. I put the pair I wanted in my waist band underneath my baggy shirt. I made my way over the bin and placed the other pair back. It was so easy to take from shops like this, there were always way too many people to keep track of thieves. 

I walked a couple shops down before placing my shield of glory upon my face. A few more shops down, I noticed a bookstore. I was a little confused at how many shops and what types called the boardwalk “home.” It was much more than I expected. 

The sign was so sunbleached it was almost impossible to read Used Books on the front. Straight to the point, I guess. An old ancient being guarded the sacred used book store. He seemed almost upset that someone wanted to actually buy something. The store was a tightly packed maze of books from new to who knows how old. Nothing was organized, excepta few book on display near the back, but none of them related to each other. Maybe the old geezer would hire the help he probably needed. 

Once inspecting the display, I noticed that How to Raise Your IQ by Eating Gifted Children by Lewis Frunkes was next to Dracula by Brahm Stoker. . . . interesting. I pulled Dracula off the shelf, then moved around the shelves to find a similar cover. I eventually found another vampire novel that looked close enough to Dracula. I hid Dracula in between my back and the waistband of my pants, hopefully he hadn’t seen me. I proceeded to place the other book on the display hoping it would trick the old man. I made my way to the front of the store to find the old man staring at me intensely. Had he caught me? Hopefully not. He looked between me and the display, quinting. Could this dinosaur even see? 

“Was that on the display?” a grainy voice interrogated me. 

“Yes, sir.” I said. 

He stared at me harshly before saying something. “Alright then.” He uncrossed his arms and placed him on his hips, revealing his name tag. Milforn. 

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you were looking for some help–” 

“No.” Milford flatly stated. 

“Uh, ok. Have a nice day then.” I backed away slowly. 

“I don’t need no help.” Milford’s jowls flapped angrily. 

“Have a nice day sir.” I said as I quickly exited the store. What a weirdo. 

I wandered around a bit before spotting Lucy, Sam, and Nanook. It seemed like lucy was asking Sam to give some money to two kids eating out of a dumpster. I remembered what that felt like. A couple of people had given me money before, but it always was embarrassing taking it. It felt like they just pitied me and wanted to make themselves feel better. Lucy didn’t mean it that way though, she was a good person. I truly do believe that she is a good person. 

“Hey,” she grasped my shoulder gently. “We’re going to head up to my father’s now. Don’t forget you’re invited now.” She chuckled at me. 

“Ok, thank you.” I said. I kinda felt bad for accepting. I didn’t want to take advantage of Lucy the same way I did those shop people. Lucy was nice, those shop people sucked and had overpriced junk. 

Eventually, Me, Michael, Sam, Lucy, and Nanook clamored our way into the old, but well loved, Toyota. Sam seemed more upset about me going than Michael did. The car ride out of town was a little tense to say the least. It was thick enough to choke me. Lucy didn’t seem bothered, or didn’t let it show. She turned on the radio, made jokes, and eventually it seemed as if we were having a good time. Sam even laughed at something I said. 

“Ya know, I haven’t lived with another girl since I lived with my mother!” Lucy laughed. “If you need anything, really anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

“Thank you. If you need help moving anything, let me know. I don’t mind.” I chirped. 

“You could move my stuff into my room.” Sam laughed. 

“Light work I guess.” I quipped back. Michael chuckled in response. “So, how old are you guys?” 

“18.” Michael said. 

“Old enough.” Sam said. 

“Sam,” Lucy nudged her son in the ribs. “He’s 13.” 

“I’m guessing you're maybe 30?” I joked with Lucy. While Same and Michael didn’t seem to think my joke was funny, Lucy felt more than flattered. After all, it was her approval I was after, not two punk-ass teens. 

“So are you in highschool?” Michael asked. 

“No, I just graduated.” 

“So why are you all the way out here?” 

“A fresh start. I just wanted things to be different than how they were.” I didn’t want to tell my whole life story to a guy I just met a couple hours ago. 

“Fair enough. Us too.” Michael was quiet and didn’t talk much. “I’m finishing my senior year here.” 

“Who said you’re graduating?” Sam joked. Michael wetted the tip of his finger and shoved it into Sam’s left ear canal. 

“Mom!Michael just gave me a wet-willy!”

“Michael, please don’t start on the wrong foot. We’re almost here. I don’t want your grandfather to think we fight.” Lucy explained. 

“I thought it was funny.” I whispered to Michael. He chucked a bit. Perhaps I could get them to warm up to me.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Pretty please! 😍

Hey! I am going to assume you mean BuddieShannon throuple? I hope so! Here's 168 or 1k - whatever I hit first!

---

“That’s good, right?” Shannon replies. “That’s something, anyway.”

Maddie nods. “Yeah… Yeah, it is. Just… No amount of therapy undoes it, you know?”

And, well, Shannon supposes that’s true, too. 

“Well, enough about therapy,” Shannon says. “What about you? How are things? How’s Buck? I haven’t spoken to him since he started his new job.”

In an effort to get back to work after the tsunami, and work his way up to active duty, Buck has returned to the LAFD as a fire marshal. Probably a good call. Shannon gets the sense his brain cannot be idle. She understands that well enough; sometimes, as a stay at home mother or caregiver for her own mother, she longed for something else to put her energy towards. She can’t say she quite loves the job now, but it’s something. 

“Uh…” Maddie’s tone doesn’t inspire confidence. “I guess I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Shannon asks. 

“He says he’s fine,” Maddie says. “He says he’s great. But… I don’t know if it’s true. Chim says there was this city-wide fire drill the other day, and he came by the station after, and he was strange.”

“Strange how?” Shannon asks.

Maddie purses her lips, like she’s searching for the right word. 

“Chim said neurotic and too chipper,” she eventually says.

Shannon thinks. Thinks of those traits and thinks of Buck. Maybe she’s wrong, but… Well, from personal experience, she knows that that can seem like someone just trying to seem okay.

“He’s had a hard year,” she says quietly. 

Maddie nods. “He really has.”

iii.

A few days later, the sum of Buck’s hard year becomes apparent to Shannon. Not from his mouth, but from Eddie’s.

Eddie is picking Chris up from her place, after a shift of work. It’s clear from the second he walks into the apartment that he’s in a shitty mood. An extra shitty mood. The thing about Eddie is, he holds what he’s feeling close to the chest. He always has. For a while, when they started dating, Shannon just thought this meant he was even-tempered. She’d seen her mom date a string of loud, verbally abusive men. She liked that Eddie never seemed like that. And he’s not. Deep down, she knows there’s a gentleness to him that runs deep.

But Eddie is not without his anger. Or his problems with his anger.

It’s almost like Eddie likes to swallow every single thing that upset him without chewing. Without thinking or reflecting. When it gets too much, when he can’t digest it all, it brews like a storm. A storm that overpowers all that inherent gentleness. And Shannon can tell, today, that he’s brought some nasty weather with him. She’s got a decently advanced radar, at this point.

“Hey,” she greets him, already wary of the set of his jaw and shoulders. “How was work?”

“Fine,” he says tightly. “Everyone good here?”

She nods. “Yeah, all fine. Chris is a little tired. With the nightmares and everything, I think the school assembly today wiped him.”

“Okay. I’ll deal with it,” he says. Then, he calls out into the apartment. “CHRIS! Time to go, buddy!” 

“Did something happen?” Shannon asks gently. 

He looks back at her. “Why?”

“You seem-”

“I seem what, Shannon?” 

She raises her hands in surrender. “Eddie, Christ. I’m just checking in.”

He blinks, realizing how snappish he came across. Then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. Just… There’s just shit going on at work.”

“Okay,” she says. “Um, what’s going on?”

He looks hesitant. Like he doesn’t know how much to say. This only makes her curiosity spike. 

“You can tell me,” she says. “Not like I work there.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “But you’re his friend, too.”

Her eyebrows raise. It’s about Buck?

“Eddie, what’s going on?” She asks. 

Another hefty sigh. 

“Buck is suing the LAFD for his job back.”

Shannon knows her eyes probably bug right out of her head. 

“What?” She demands.

Eddie shrugs, and before she can ask anything else, Chris walks into the room. 

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, buddy,” Eddie smiles at him. “You have a good day?”

“Yeah,” Chris answers a little sleepily. 

Chris gets ready to leave. Shannon kisses him and tells him she loves him. They drop the work topic entirely. Neither of them wants to talk too much about Buck in front of Chris. It doesn’t seem fair. Like bad-mouthing a family member in front of a child, you just shouldn’t do it. Even if Shannon isn’t sure if Eddie's feeling would constitute bad-mouthing. She doesn’t have the requisite information. 

But as Eddie is walking out the door, Shannon can’t quite help herself.

“Why?” She asks him somewhat abruptly. “Why is he doing that?”

Eddie just shrugs. A near scowl forming on his face. 

“I don’t know, Shan. I am literally not allowed to ask him.”

◀️

Eddie might not be allowed to ask, but Shannon is. 

She calls him the moment Eddie leaves. It goes to voicemail. Oh, please. She knows he’s not working and hasn’t had much else going on. Tough shit. She calls again. 

He answers after three rings. 

“Uh, hey, Shannon,” he says. “What’s up?” 

“What’s up with me?” She asks.

“Ah. So you heard then.”

“Yeah, Buck. I heard,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“Listen, Shannon, I… I don’t know what he told you or-or what you think about it, but-”

“He didn’t tell me anything because he doesn’t know anything,” Shannon says. “I don’t know what to think. Are you okay?”

There’s a long pause. 

“No,” he admits finally. “I don’t really feel okay.” 

Shannon’s heart sinks. 

“Talk to me, Buck.”

“Uh, well…. You know how I haven’t been allowed back on active duty because someone at the brass was saying the blood thinners are a liability?” He starts.

“Right,” Shannon nods. 

“It wasn’t someone at the brass. It was Bobby.”  “Bobby?” Shannon repeats. “I thought you and Bobby are pretty close?”

[tetraharmonic]

Rating the TriStamp Designs based on Suitability for Desert Travel

So, to give this post some context, in my character design class from two semesters ago, it was a super big thing for our professor that characters were dressed to the environment, ie hot weather causing folks to wear short-sleeved clothes, or combat focused characters dressing based on their style of combat and mobility requirements. I was doing some sketches yesterday and realized, man, some of them are actually fucked when it comes to the environment itself. And...well, here's my hotcakes.

Zazzie the Beast: 9/10

Clothing is the loosest out of the group, with the lightest over all colors. The outfit has not just one but two possible ways to cover the face, such as the mask and that scarf thingie. The main reason I'm marking the fit is for the pants, which would give them one weird sunburn. They'd also need more warmth once the suns go down.

Meryl: 8/10

Loose fitting and light clothing is a huge plus. She also has layers, allowing her to adjust better as nightfall hits. However, she has almost no face and eye protection, which would leave her with a nasty case of windburn.

Knives: 7/10

Tight fitting clothes trap the sweat against your skin, increasing the odds of overheating. His feet are also bare, so you know good and well that they're going to get roasted and burnt by the hot sand, causing blisters at best. However, having the cloak could, in theory, keep him cool during the day, and its looseness should allow for more airflow. Would've been a 6, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt when it comes to his skintight suit. Who knows, it could be some real damn breathable fabric.

Roberto: 7/10

Light colors, layer potential. He's doing really well in terms of clothing. However, a suit coat would absolutely be too heavy for day wear. Also, he doesn't have any sort of face, eye or ear protection, so fighting the sand would be difficult.

Legato: 7/ 10

Same thought process here as Roberto. His clothing is light on the outer layers, which could help with heat management. However, his under layers are black, which would make him feel a whole lot hotter in the case that he had to remove his jacket, which he probably will need to, because it looks thick as hell. No facial protection.

Wolfwood: 6/10

Dark clothes, not good. But they're at least pretty loose and unbuttoned quite a bit. He has eye protection in the form of sunglasses, which would help with both sand and UV protection. Loafers might be an issue, though. If he can't keep the sand out of them, he could end up with some vile blisters.

Vash: 4/10

Has eye protection. It doesn't look like it would block much sunlight, but it would help for the sand, so that's a massive boost. However, tell me that jacket isn't going to be hot as hell out there. I dare you. He's also wearing very tight-fitting black clothing, which is not going to work out too well for him. He also runs the issue of his prosthetic. There isn't any way for him to keep sand out of the joints, which will, after some time, render his prosthetic unusable or extremely uncomfortable. His undercut gives him an extra point, though, because it'd help with the weight of hair and help keep his head cool.

Livio: 3/10

Dark clothes, not very lose. No eye protection. He'd be absolutely fucked. Keeping his hair out of his eyes will provide a slight advantage when it comes to seeing things, but it's completely irrelevant when compared to the horrible sun exhaustion this poor man is going to face. And he's got a turtle neck so he's just going to have more sweat trapped close to his body with nowhere for all of that to go. Dehydration and heat management would be a horrible issue for him, besides the fact that the metal thing on his face would heat up from the sunlight and begin to scorch his skin or even blind him. His outfit when he was young would've been fantastic, if his shorts were longer, but, yknow, three layers of black suits.... Poor dude. Someone get this man a kool-aid pouch.

Thats all for now folks. Enjoy!

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 3: An Unexpected Challenge

Chapter 3 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost

Contains: defiant whumpee, whumper POV, cold whumper, restraints, bruises, interrogation, verbal sparring, threats of torture

---

Isadora

If anything marred Isadora’s happiness as she strode down the narrow stairwell to the interrogation room, it was how easy this was likely to be. It hardly seemed fair. Ten years of fighting these nasty little rodents, and the crowning achievement of that career—the final interrogation that would bring them crumbling down—was almost certain to be an anticlimax. If it had taken this long to get hold of the leader of their little band of terrorists, it was doubtless because he was a coward who hid himself away from the real fighting as much as possible, leaving his people to do his dirty work for him. A man like that was liable to break at a stern look from her.

She didn’t know for certain what kind of man she would be facing, of course. Information on the leader of the rebellion was maddeningly scarce—that had been the case for ten years, ever since they had lost their one and only genuine image of his face to a technical glitch after that first devastating attack. But the idea of a coward hiding behind the desk in a little underground room fit what little she had gleaned of his reputation from the prisoners who had sung his praises in these interrogation rooms over the years, in between their screams. The way they told it, their leader was wise, compassionate, even gentle, with an idealistic spirit still unbroken after a decade of war. The man sounded like a regular saint.

And saints were soft. Saints didn’t put up enough of a fight to give a satisfying victory. Especially not satisfying for someone like Isadora, who had always enjoyed a challenge.

But she wasn’t here to enjoy herself. If that were what she was after, she would never have pushed so hard for that second transfer to Mars. Besides, a victory was a victory. It would be no less sweet if it came easily. If it was, that was her problem for putting her own personal satisfaction ahead of the good of Earth and Mars alike.

That was a personal flaw, and one she thought she had eradicated by now. She would have to work harder on that.

She pressed her thumb onto the reader beside the door to the interrogation room. The door slid open with a heavy groan. The room was a sterile white. Beneath the glare of harsh, bright light stood a table and two chairs, all a dull metal gray. A cold, sterile odor hung in the air, along with the ever-present dry tang of Martian dust. As the door slid closed, the deep silence of a tomb separated her from the rest of the world. An eerie calm hung in the air, as if every particle of matter were frozen in place, not a molecule daring to move. The silent breeze from the air filtration system brushed the back of Isadora’s neck, making all the little hairs stand on end.

The prisoner sat in the chair facing the door. His wrists and ankles were cuffed to the chair. His head was bowed, his untidy dark hair hanging into his eyes. She wasn’t sure why the guards had bothered cuffing his ankles—normally, they only took that extra precaution for prisoners who had demonstrated themselves to be dangerous.

Then he looked up at her.

He was younger than she expected. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties—her age—and he might even have been a few years younger. It was jarring to see someone else in a position of authority who wasn’t at least a decade older than her. She was used to being able to throw people off balance with her combination of relative youth and power.

But while he might have been young, his face was weathered. His cheeks were sunken hollows, his face mottled with old scars—and new ones. Blood trickled from a cut just under his eye. It looked like the guards hadn’t had an easy time of it with him. Isadora began to understand why they had cuffed his ankles.

A spark of interest flared in her gut. Maybe this wouldn’t be so anticlimactic after all.

His dark eyes burned into hers strongly enough to leave an afterimage of pure hatred on her soul. No doubt many people found those eyes intimidating. Even Isadora had to fight to keep from taking a step back. Twin dark pits, they boiled with the infernal anger of the Martian sky.

They were not the eyes of a saint.

He grinned at her. His teeth were tinged red with blood. She wondered if it belonged to him or someone else. “Careful there,” he said, his lips twisted in a sneer of contempt. “Don’t get too close. I’m all bloody from what your guards did to me last night. You don’t want to get that pristine uniform reviewers of yours all messy.”

There was no trace of wisdom or compassion in his guttural snarl. Certainly no hint of gentleness.

She carefully lowered herself to the chair across from him. “Your intake paperwork lists your name as Wraith, no last name given,” she said, with a raise of one eyebrow. “My people weren’t able to obtain your given name.”

“I’m not sure I remember it myself. Wraith is the only name I’ve had for ten years.”

Isadora thought about pressing the issue. A prisoner’s full name was often a good first question in an interrogation—a straightforward fact that wasn’t worth offering more than a token show of defiance to protect, and one that put prisoners in the habit of answering her questions. She took another look at Wraith and decided against it. She didn’t need to know what his mother had called him, and he looked like the type who would defy her just for the pleasure of it. If he wanted to call himself Wraith, then Wraith he would be.

“My name is Isadora Pope,” she continued. “I’m sure you know me by reputation.”

“I suppose you expect me to feel honored,” said Wraith. “Face to face with the head of Special Security herself—the branch of Earth security created specially to keep Mars down. You’re not part of the military—of course not, because Earth’s military involvement on Mars is officially over—but by sheer coincidence, you and everyone under your command happen to be former soldiers. Yes, I know who you are. I’ve had more than one friend who suffered at your hands and lived to tell the tale.”

“I try to make sure that doesn’t happen,” said Isadora, flattening her mouth into a thin, dagger-sharp line that could never have been mistaken for a smile. “But none of us is perfect.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Even you. It’s been a long ten years, but we finally have you in hand.”

He leaned back, like he was lounging in a chair on a warm Earth beach. He tilted his chin up to sun himself in the cold light above. “Yes, here I am. Now what are you going to do with me?” His eyes glinted at her, a clear challenge.

There was a saying back on Earth about the dog who chases the car but doesn’t know what to do with it once he catches it. Not that Isadora had seen a dog in ten years, or a car either. But if Wraith expected her to be as dumbfounded by her catch as the proverbial dog, he would find himself disappointed. She’d had a decade to figure out what to do with him. A decade to get over the revenge fantasies that might have clouded her judgment if she hadn’t spent so long preparing for this moment.

“First, I’ll require a public statement from you,” she said coolly. “Something denouncing your rebellion in no uncertain terms, apologizing for your role in its creation, and ordering its immediate disbandment. After that, we can move on to getting your help in bringing in any members of your rebellion who are likely to present a continuing threat, moving in order from most to least dangerous. You’ll have our files to work from as a starting point.” That last, of course, meant, We already know too much for you to lie to us, so don’t bother trying.

Wraith chuckled under his breath. “You have to know that’s not going to happen.”

“Yes, I expected you would say that,” she said. She regarded him from across the table, taking her time, letting the silence grow between them. “You see, I like to think of this process as a game.”

“Because this is how you get your kicks?”

“Because I don’t play games I’m not already sure I can win. You will give us our statement. And then you will give us the rest of your people.”

“I’ve heard how you operate,” Wraith said. “It’s not a game if you don’t play by the rules.”

“But there are rules,” she said. “Rules, strategies, winning moves, fatal mistakes. I know enough by now to avoid the latter. I’ve never met a prisoner who can say the same.”

“Then explain your game to me. It’s hardly fair if only one of us knows how it’s played.”

She thought about pointing out the obvious—that it wasn’t meant to be fair—but why not give him what he wanted? Why not feed that cocky attitude of his by letting him believe he had talked her into giving him an advantage? “The strategy is different for every prisoner,” she began. “That’s the beauty of it.” And how she had missed that stark beauty, the adrenaline rush of sitting across from a prisoner in a bare interrogation room, just her and her opponent and the merciless passage of time, which was always on her side. Why had she ever let them promote her?

Because no one else could do the job properly, that was why. No one else had her single-minded focus. The others were lazy. They took shortcuts. They made compromises. They had failed ten years ago, failed irrevocably and unforgivably, and they would have failed again many times over if she hadn’t demanded that transfer.

She needed to get back behind her desk. She trusted Grayson, but he wasn’t her. He hadn’t given up everything the way she had. He had a wife. A young child. He kept up with some Earth sports team or other, wearing their colors on every game day. He lacked the necessary focus.

Which meant she had to finish this quickly, so she could take over from him before he made a mess of things.

“Take you, for example,” she said, bringing her focus back to Wraith. Splitting one’s focus in the middle of an interrogation was a surefire way to end up missing a crucial detail. “You’re known for your wisdom. Your unflagging courage. Your inspirational aura that imbues your followers with courage just from standing in your presence.” She curled her lips into a subtle sneer. “You fight from behind your desk. You keep your hands clean. You’re too good to do your own killing—it might mar your saintly reputation.”

A flash of pure fury crossed Wraith’s face, almost too quick to catch. Then he leaned back again and gave her a lazy grin. If she hadn’t been so good at this, she might have thought she had imagined that brief instant of animal rage.

“Saintly,” Wraith repeated with a small chuckle. “Is that really how I look to you?” He nodded down at his loose gray prisoner uniform, speckled reddish-brown with dried blood.

No. No, he didn’t look like he fit her description in the slightest. He looked like a man who would be more than happy to do his own fighting, and everyone else’s for good measure.

Earlier, the thought of being wrong about him had cheered her. Now she felt off-kilter, like the floor had shifted under her feet. She had built her strategy on what she knew of him. Where did that leave her if what she knew was wrong?

But maybe that was what he wanted from her. Maybe he wanted her uncertain, hesitant, second-guessing herself. And she knew better than to give a prisoner what he wanted.

She would stick to the plan. She would not let a prisoner make her doubt her expertise. She hadn’t come this far by letting every captured rebel with a spark of defiance wrest control of the game away from her.

She ignored his question. “For someone like you, then,” she continued, meeting the arrogant glint in his own eyes with a cold, flat stare, “the best strategy is to start by showing you how the rules you’ve always lived by have changed. The rules matter to you, don’t they? You’re a man of principle. At least when it comes to keeping your own hands clean.”

She couldn’t herself from casting a glance down at his hands, which the cuff kept locked to the arms of his chair. He had blood under his fingernails.

She looked back up at his face, and ignored the tiny smile that told her he knew not only what she had seen, but the flicker of doubt it had inspired in her. “You’re a methodical man,” she continued. “Your plans and strategies have kept your little group active for ten years, when our initial estimates didn’t give you longer than six months. There are people among us who respect you for that. And you’re a cautious man. You must be, to have evaded us for so long. Your rules have kept you safe.”

She let a smile spread across her face. It wasn’t a smile of happiness, like the one that had made everyone stare at her in disbelief over breakfast this morning. This smile was entirely under her control. It was sharp and vicious. It was a weapon.

“There will be no hiding anymore,” she said. “There are no others to fight for you. And there is no escape.”

“Your strategy sure sounds impressive.” Wraith lifted his chin. “But as I’m fond of telling a friend of mine, strategy is useless without tactics.”

“I have no shortage of those.” Isadora’s eyes glinted at him. “Pain is a versatile tool. I find it works well in this situation, as in so many others.”

Wraith laughed to himself. “Oh, I’m familiar with pain. You don’t survive ten years in this business without getting a few scars. Believe me, you don’t have anything new to throw at me.”

Isadora nodded in unfeigned satisfaction. The whisper of doubt blew away on the faint breeze from the air vent. “Yes,” she said, “that’s exactly what I would have expected you to say.”

He might have set her off balance at first, but she was on solid ground now. If interrogation was a game, she was Mars’s unquestioned champion. And so far, he was making all his moves exactly as predicted.

As long as she ignored the blood under his fingernails.

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra

[soupandtissues]

Fragile

Vague spoilers for season 2 under the cut, for the emotional punch, you've been warned.

Everything felt new again once it was all over and Crowley supposed it was in a way.  The cottage was their first true ‘ours’.  Something they had chosen together, were filling together as the small enclosed porch Crowley was currently misting plants in, potted among the small bookshelves, clearly proved. 

He looked up as thunder rolled over again and the rain that had sent him scurrying inside instead of continuing to hide in his garden came down harder.  He watched the droplets run down in tiny rivers until the water was coming down in steady sheets.  It was beautiful, what they had was beautiful, but like the glass windows that could crack under pressure he was afraid of pressing too hard.

It was the first thing he’d thought of when he’d woken up that morning to a scratchy throat and slowly clogging sinuses.

The first time had been all right.  The cold had stayed mostly in his chest.  So with an extra hot cocoa or two miracled so the liquor was just water, tricked he’d learned from an old friend.  Making a large batch of soup with the excuse of wanting to use up some of the vegetables, and a few errant sniffles blamed on the chilling autumn air all was well.

This time though it was late spring and quite warm for England so there was no weather to blame.  This time it was all in his head giving him a headache that would not be quelled no matter how much he rubbed between his eyes trying to relieve the growing pressure.

And it also left his nose so…

“Snf!”

So itch-

“Heh…”

So itchy!

Hastily putting down the mister Crowley buried his nose into his elbow trying to muffle as best he could.

“Ehh’MPSHh! MMSPSHu! huh’MPISSHHh!”

He lowered his arm to see handkerchief in his peripheral vision that he reluctantly accepted.

“Thanks, Angel, must have put too many flowering ones in here I…huhh’AHSSUHuhh!”

A warm hand moved him gently to the love seat they’d put in behind them.

“S’cuse me,” he said, keeping the handkerchief pressed to his nose.

“When did this start?”

Crowley groaned and blew his nose hard knowing the jig was up.

“Snf!  Since this morning, so not long, just means it’s probably gonna be nasty that’s all.”  

“You could have told me, Crowley.”

“I know,” he sighed, muffling a few coughs into the handkerchief as he did, before putting his glasses on the table beside them. “I guess I just didn’t know, know, you know?”

Aziraphale winced. That stung, to be reminded once again that Crowley didn’t trust him enough to be vulnerable around him anymore.  But Crowley had waited for him, he would wait for Crowley for however long it took.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind Crowley’s ear and pulled him closer. “What can I do for you?”

Crowley took a moment to respond as he curled himself against his angel’s neck.

“Could we just…be like this for a while?  Maybe order dinner in?”

“I think that sounds just lovely.”  

[pokemoncaretips]

any tips on galarian meowth/perrserker?

Hooo boy.

General notes: So this is very VERY different from your classic Kantonian meowth. If you go in expecting something similar, you're in for a nasty shock. And for the love of Arceus do NOT keep both types together.

General care: Steel type pokemon are usually pretty sturdy pokemon, capable of weathering most conditions well, and the Galarian meowth is no exception. A tough, capable pokemon, it often prefers being outside even in rough weather. The galarian meowth, and the perrserker in particular, are good pokemon to have if you spend a lot of time on the ocean. Fishermen, sailors, and people who live in houseboats often have perrserkers. According to its (albeit slightly murky) history, the meowth was brought to Galar by seafaring raiders, and developed its steel type as a response to the tough conditions. This seems to have left it with a fondness for the ocean. If it seems more destructive than usual, a trip on a ferry can help alleviate any boredom. They like to see new sights. Speaking off, you'll need very strong toys for it to play with. A feather on a string isn't going to cut it here. They enjoy a similar diet to most meowth, though they do require a diet higher in natural irons. Less fish and a little more red meat, with supplements if you think it needs it. The natural oils in its fur help prevent the iron in its body from rusting, though if you see dark orange patches on its coat, take it to a pokemon centre, as rust is a strong indication it's unwell or run down. Care rating: Green

Training: And here we go. The Galarian meowth and perrserker are best described by most trainers as "feral". Though they have their sweet moments, they are absolutely not pokemon for beginners. Stubborn, destructive and powerful, they'll steamroller new trainers. Battling is a must. These pokemon live for the thrill of the battle, and will need a lot of extra training to prevent them going too far and injuring their opponent beyond the rules of the pokemon league. They cannot live in a house with any other variant of persian or meowth. The personality differences are irreconcilable. On the other hand, if you're the kind of glutton for punishment who'll take on one of these pokemon, a good partner for them is a mankey, of all things. They both love battling and have short tempers, and are both extremely tough pokemon capable of withstanding each other, though the mankey is likely to have the upper hand out of sheer speed and type match-ups. If you're careful with the introduction and monitor their scraps, the two will eventually settle down. Training rating: Red

Safety: The galarian meowth does have a tendency to scratch, but so do many pokemon. The biggest danger is when it evolves, and those claws become literal knives. A badly trained perrserker is a danger, particularly to small children. If you've built a strong relationship with it, there are claw caps on the market, but it's a gamble how long even a patient perrserker will keep them on for. (Important note: it is an offence punishable by 3-5 years in jail to declaw a perrserker under the Pokemon Welfare Act.) Safety rating: Red.

Overall ranking. A tough and cantankerous pokemon, it's definitely not for everybody. But if you like a challenge, it could be what you're looking for.

[aisuigetsu]

a lil photo summary of my year (2023)

started my year at Harrah's Atlantic City. this was the second year i went to AC for my birthday! won some and lost some and won some back, net gain $300 ish? since i always go during new year's nothing's ever open... not a ton of food options and no strip clubs :(

in feb i went to seattle for the 4th time LMAO. this was the first time i flew since covid. it was raining every day but the clam chowder slapped

march i watched The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart at the McKittrick Hotel. during the last song everyone was having a great time and i was TEARING UP lol it was so beautiful.

went home and immediately wrote a letter to alan brown to watch it (since it was only showing for 8 weeks), not sure if he went tho

april went hiking at Catskill Giant Ledge. there were very few signs so we ended up walking at least 3 miles extra. it was so snowy and icy and i did not have hiking boots. not too bad going up but basically came down the whole way by sliding slowly on my butt

may i went to an airbnb in Long Island that i really liked. this time we got to go boating.

last time i went was when the pandemic first started calming down, and i felt a sudden urge to escape the city. i booked the train ticket and airbnb and left after work that night. after staying there for a day and a half, a group of girls also came to the house (owner rented out multiple homes) and i heard one of them talk abt my restaurant.... needless to say i bolted out of there even tho my stay wasn't finished

funny detail from this trip was i mentioned the sunrise is really beautiful here and we must see it. however for days in a row neither of us could get up, and finally on the last day i was like "i have to wake up" and i did at like 5:30. but i was soooooo tired so i took a picture of the sunrise and went back to sleep. we both woke up around noon and i was like "hah i knew you wouldn't be able to wake up so i took this picture for you" and HE HAD DONE EXACTLY THE SAME THING LMAOOO

june working through the air pollution woohoo

parents took me to Seven Lake Drive, it was really pretty and full of mosquitos

one day in july i randomly wanted to walk to brooklyn bridge from my apt in queens. when i have nothing to do i just wanna walk for really long distances

got covid for the first time and during my sick day i saw this girl on the rooftop of the building across. lowkey kinda worried abt her so i kept watching her and then she took a selfie LOL. stopped watching after that

august went to Mt. Taurus to watch the Perseid Meteor Shower. it was really clear during the day and started pouring as soon as it turned dark.

at like 2am me and my bf were just in the middle of nowhere (to avoid light pollution) in the car frantically searching up the satellite map to see when the clouds would pass and also the weather forecast for any rural areas within 100 miles. unfortunately it was raining EVERYWHERE for multiple days. better luck in 2024

then we went peach picking in NJ, not a ton of hard peaches left by this time

october we went to vermont for anniversary trip and he picked an "easy hike" to "see the foliage"

mountaintop view was like:

it was steep and cold and started raining on the way down. by the time we got back to the parking lot it was completely fucking dark. the entire way down i was looking for spots to camp in case we were stuck on the mountain...

high school classmate organized a Survivor themed camping trip. the bathrooms at this campsite were NASTY and i was on my period too 0/10. but it was a fun time and i got eliminated fifth

november in las vegas. loved it, lost 1.7k

came back to nyc and watched Un Ballo in Maschera. honestly kind of depressing cuz i couldn't just clap and cheer every 10 seconds like in the circus TT