#was maybe going to continue this but i am... bad at writing smut adjacent things lol

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi❣️❣️ so this morning i saw this post by @emsemotional and i haven’t stopped thinking about it!!! so here is a soft & short pre-s11 ficlet about gallavich getting high together <3

--

Sometimes Ian would come home so tired after a long day of work— aching limbs, a buzzing brain too syrup-heavy after lifting boxes and pushing carts and stumbling through idle conversation with middle-aged coworkers—to really think about anything other than pushing one foot in front of the other through the creaky front door, anything other than pulling himself up the stairs with a firm grip on the railing and collapsing face-first onto the bed.

Usually Mickey was already there, sprawled on the bed like a kid at a sleepover, watching some dumb video on his phone, ending a hard day of whatever the fuck Mickey was up to these days since the lockdown started, since Mickey had cloistered himself away within these four walls after the wedding. It was a reaction to the pandemic, sure— but it was maybe also a reaction to the breezed-by attempted shootout of their floral-scented honeymoon suite, a reaction to the world feeling a little more looming and frightening now that Ian and Mickey were married, yes, but so much of the home that Mickey had known before he’d been locked up was gone, replaced by shiny new apartment complexes and organic grocery stores.

Ian wasn’t going to question it— this lockdown shit was hitting him hard too, was grinding down on his hard-fought sense of stability and rhythm and pressing in on his grand notions of work ethic and savings and finding a place, somewhere, for the two of them someday. It seemed like since the wedding, shit in general had only gotten worse and worse— he and Mick were fine, they were existing, but something about a global pandemic stopping the roller coaster on its tracks as it headed up the mountain, leaving them suspended, had torn something irreparable in them both— they weren’t going to go back to that shiny-faced, post-wedding bliss that Ian had wanted to savor forever.

He’d give anything to go back to that time between then and now, between whenever they returned from their honeymoon and whenever he’d developed a now-permanent slouch in his shoulders from long days at a dead end job, and a scruffy five o’clock shadow that he didn’t really have the energy to deal with both when he came home from work and when he crawled out of bed at 5 in the morning before sunrise, shifting out from under Mickey’s hand that always rested with a solid weight on Ian’s chest as he slept. Today, Ian fully expected to turn the corner into their room to that same habitual evening scene—Mickey laying there on his stomach, brows furrowed in the same permanent lingering discontent that they both seemed to be harboring these days, watching a video of some outdated trend blasting at full volume.

Instead, Mickey was seated in the bed, a pillow smushed between his back and the wall, hair ruffled and eyes bleary like he’d just woken up. He was wearing a dark tank top, the neck damp with the summer humidity trapped in the room that could barely escape through the narrow window— and he had a packet of rolling papers in his hand, a grinder beside him on the bed, his eyes drifting up and then back down to his task as Ian entered the room.

“You just get up?” Ian tried to keep his voice measured, tried to bite down any edge of resentment.

Mickey’s eyes flickered up again from where he was silently rolling the blunt in a tight cylinder, then freed a hand to flip Ian off.

“Was fucking napping. Still on my honeymoon, man.”

Ian rolled his eyes, letting out a little puff of air through his nose, but he kept his mouth shut— this was it, the whole crux of their problem these days, that they were both taking this shitshow of a situation very differently. Mickey was allowed to sleep the day away in his grungy threadbare bathrobe if he wanted to— in the same way that Ian was allowed to get up at the crack of dawn and leave him alone at the house all day, was allowed to be up his ass about money and expenses and “financial planning.” The world was burning around them, was tilting off-kilter— and they both had different ways of finding a rope to grab on to, of keeping their feet on solid ground.

Mickey was lifting the paper to his tongue now, then sealing it shut with practiced fingers. Mickey had always been good at rolling blunts—he was always patient and methodical in a way that Ian rarely was with shit like this, shit that felt meaningless and the aesthetics unnecessary. Mickey was still looking downward at the rolled cylinder in his fingertips; maybe because he was focused on his task, or maybe because they were out of practice being around each other since Ian had started his job. He barely made eye contact with Ian as he stretched to grab a lighter off the nightstand and doused the end of the blunt in flames with one fluid movement.

Ian shook off his sneakers, walking over to perch on the edge of the bed and watching as Mickey inhaled deeply and let his head sink back against the wall. Part of Ian, flaring up as a small twinge in his stomach, felt oddly jealous— how could Mickey be so fucking chilled out right now, while so much was uncertain and Ian was working his ass off to keep a roof over all of their heads?

And still. That wasn’t fair. Deep down, Ian knew that.

Mickey finally shifted his gaze upwards after taking another hit, tapping the blunt against the rim of a mug that they kept on the nightstand as an ashtray— and then reaching the smoldering cylinder out to Ian, who was still sitting on the side of the bed like a stranger who’d stumbled into the room. Mickey’s arm reached out— a contrast of rough hands and tattooed knuckles that delicately pinched at the filter, tilted at a practiced angle over the linen blanket.

It struck Ian that this was a peace offering—they’d been so close yet so distant for weeks, sleeping pressed together at night but mostly traveling in their own orbit. This outstretched hand was Mickey wanting to share an experience, a moment in which Ian could breathe—a moment that Ian could let him in rather than putting up walls of demands and stress, looking through Mickey rather than at him as he headed out the door.

And knowing this, Ian reached outwards, fingers fumbling on the paper.

It had been a while since Ian had smoked—the first few weeks of quarantine they’d pretty much been constantly high, alternating between sleeping and smoking and fucking and smoking again. But after a while, the doubts and the demands started lurking in, and the space of their bedroom felt too constricted, too close. Ian had lifted himself out of that space, finding a job and ending their days cocooned in the bedroom together— and Ian hadn’t really let himself deflate since then.

Mickey was content to stay in this comforting space behind closed doors, and Ian let him— Mickey hadn’t had a place like this, a place to lay and get high and watch videos on his phone, for years at this point.

Ian took his first drag, and felt the bitter smoke linger at the back of his throat before blowing it outwards. He let out a dry, sputtery cough, one that started in his throat and seemed to end in his ribcage, making him hack again and again— and Mickey let out a disbelieving laugh, lighter than Ian expected, and reached over for the bottle of tepid Gatorade that was sitting on the nightstand.

“Fuckin’ lightweight, man.”

Now it was Ian’s turn to flip him off, swigging back the Gatorade with tears burning in the corners of his eyes.

Mickey just chuckled again, and plucked the blunt out of Ian’s fingers.

And— fuck. How long had it been since Ian had let himself feel like this, loose-limbed and heavy-headed? He wasn’t even sure if the weed had hit yet, or if it was some Pavlovian response to the act of smoking, of inhaling deep and feeling his belly expand amid the humidity hanging heavy in the room— but instantly Ian felt the trickling in of a pleasant buzzing in his brain, of the warm and floaty release of his clenched shoulderblades, the fuzzy warmth of starry-eyed admiration as he turned his head and watched his husband take another hit, blowing curls of smoke out of his pink mouth in an exhale.

Ian must have been staring for a second too long, eyes lingering on the contours of Mickey’s jawline as the cloud of smoke dissipated in front of him, because Mickey turned and furrowed his brows.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

Ian just smirked to himself, causing Mickey’s forehead to crease even deeper—but he held out the blunt again, and Ian took it, reaching over to give Mickey’s knee a light squeeze in thanks. It was better this time, breathing the heavy air into his lungs, letting it out with a sigh. He was definitely feeling the actual weed now, the feeling soft as cotton that made everything a little easier, a little lighter.

Mickey was definitely there too, slouching back against the pillows and lazily flicking through his Spotify library to find something to let drift through the room through the tinny speaker of his phone— usually he’d play some sort of weird ass techno music that neither one of them actually listened to, or some sort of mellow pre-made Spotify playlist that Mickey would only stoop to listening to when he was high out of his mind.

It felt like there was a heavy blanket wrapped around Ian’s body—warm and liquid, keeping him weighted on the bed. And without really thinking, he let himself slump down farther on his side, slouching down onto Mickey’s shoulder. At first, Mickey stiffened at the unexpected touch— then Ian felt his shoulderblades relax, his body soften as they laid leg to leg, arm to arm.

Tentatively, Ian fumbled until his fingertips tangled with Mickey’s, until they were slotted just right— the movement felt like it took multiple minutes, like they were suspended and swimming through time.

Mickey peered to look at their clasped hands. “Gay,” he huffed out under his breath before bringing the blunt to his lips again.

Ian snickered, like that was the funniest shit he’d heard in weeks—because honestly, it was. They’d been drifting apart, on separate edges of a jagged faultline— except now Mickey was here, his same grumbling self, and their bodies were pressed together, and they were warm, warm, warm.

Ian buried his face in Mickey’s neck, continuing to laugh until he felt a dull ache in his abdomen. After what could have been an hour for all he knew, Ian finally peered his head up again— Mickey was tracing a pattern up and down his arm, eyes half-open and listening to the music, until he turned to Ian with a bemused expression. “You good?”

“Do you want a snack?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You sound like you’re fuckin’ babysitting Franny right now.”

“Well, I want a snack. So I’m gonna go downstairs and get one.”

“M’not fucking getting up, man.”

Ian poked Mickey in his side. “C’mon.”

Begrudgingly, Mickey let Ian pull him up by his elbow, rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy toddler and stubbing out the blunt that was still in his hands, letting it fall into the mug.

They crept down the stairs to the moonlit kitchen— Ian had a fleeting thought that they probably thought they were being stealthier than they were, given how he kept feeling like he was about to stumble over his own feet—and Ian flung open the kitchen cupboard, rifling around for a half-eaten bag of Doritos on the top shelf.

“Stop slamming shit, Franny’s sleeping.”

Ian perched on the edge of counter, Mickey hoisting himself to sit next to him,  and Ian placed the chip bag between them, letting them eat in a comfortable silence. Ian forgot how fucking hungry he always got whenever he was high— he and Lip used to creep down the front staircase after sharing a joint and blowing the smoke out the cracked bedroom window, eating fistfuls of whatever bargain junk food was in the cabinet. Ian felt a sudden softness that this silly childlike ritual, in this home— this belonged to Mickey now, too.

Ian noticed a bit of cheese dust on Mickey’s chin, and he licked at his thumb and smeared it away without thinking. Mickey immediately swatted at his chest, ducking away and bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet.

“Stop treating me like a fuckin’ five year old!”

Ian felt his shoulders shake with laughter— one wave, then another, and all of a sudden he was laughing again for no fucking reason at all, laughing because it felt good and warm and spread through his belly. Mickey rolled his eyes; but a grin was cracking through, sloping the corner of his mouth upwards.

“I’m never getting high with you ever again,” Mickey breathed it in a chuckled exhale. “You’re getting too fuckin’ old to handle this shit, your eyes are all red and everything.”

Ian shoved him back in the chest. “I’m not a fucking lightweight.”

“Mhm.”

Ian hopped off the counter, dropping the crumpled Doritos bag back on the shelf and slamming the cabinet shut again with an alarmingly loud whack that resounded through the kitchen and made Ian jump— and this time Mickey was laughing, and Ian was slumping forward against Mickey’s shoulder again, leaving a damp spot on the shoulder of his t-shirt where tears sprang up and spotted.

And then the moonlight softened; Mickey began to run a hand up and down Ian’s back, from sternum to spine to shoulder blades and back again— and Ian was suddenly reaching his hands for Mickey’s hips, reaching through the haze of dark cotton and softness around them. Now it was just blood rushing against blood, sweaty skin pressed together against the cool linoleum of the counter. Ian’s head dipping down, dropping kisses and pulling gentle bites of teeth on skin— Mickey pulling in breaths of air and doing the same, leaving scalding marks with lips that Ian could feel echoing and rattling in his entire body.

They made their way upstairs, wading in the darkness, wading against each other, bodies floating— landing on soft bedsheets, tugging and giving way.

[spicy-dunkaroo]

Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)

♫Now Playing: “Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)” by Spicy Dunkaroo…♪

❀Word Count: 2.5k

❀Rating: PG 13, 18+, Minors Do Not Interact (please)

❀Genre: Mythology AU!, Kelpie! Tamaki Amajiki, a pinch of Angst, very Fluffy, Maybe Smut (Still not sure yet)

❀Summary: Due to your job, you’re forced to visit a beautiful city in Scotland in order to get some reconnaissance on the locals. While on this trip, you grab a drink with a coworker and return home where you begin to notice strange things happen.

❀Warning(s): Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol use (Characters are aged up), and Mentions of Depression

❀Author's Note: Hello everyone!! This will be my first collaboration with the BNHarem server (Of hopefully many more). I hope that if you enjoy this story that you also go ahead and check out the other talented artists/writers that participated in this server collab here. I am beyond grateful to be working with so many amazing writers and artists that have helped me and inspired me to start writing!! I would also like to ask that if there are any warnings I might have missed, please do let me know. The last thing I want to do is have anyone read my story and get triggered because I didn’t properly put the warnings here.

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

☟❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀☟

Birds singing, leaves crunching, and the wind singing in your ears was all you could hear as the tour guide went on with their one-sided conversation of tour around Inverness, Scotland. If it weren’t for your worrisome supervisor, you’d be in the cute little cottage that you rented for the next few weeks, probably playing on your switch or watching Tigtog videos for hours on end. But noooo, they mandated that everyone had to go on this hour-long tour of the city to “get a nice perspective of the city” or whatever the hell they were rambling on about.

Each person was assigned a partner for the tours so they didn’t have to worry about anyone getting abducted or ‘lost’. Knowing better, you visibly rolled your eyes as your partner looked around like a kid in a candy store. Apparently the woman was from the marketing department as well, her name seeming to leave your memory as you squinted in her direction.

“You forgot my name again, didn’t you?”

“Pfft- no- no way!”

“Yea? Then what is it?”

“Uh, erm...It- it starts with a H, I know that!!”

“It’s Hoshi, or if you’d like to continue with formalities, Ms. Tenmei.”

Hanging your head in shame you look away. Getting lost in your thoughts once more, Hoshi taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, no worries! I’m pretty bad with names myself. How’s camera duty going?”

Saying this, the woman grabs the camera from your grasp, turning it back on to see the pictures you had taken thus far. Whistling, Hoshi looks back at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm that was painted across your face.

“I know this tour is the last thing either of us want to do, but the quicker you get all those pictures for the portfolio, the quicker we can get out of here and grab a drink. It’ll be my treat if you can get all of them before the end of the tour.”

Nodding your head, you grab the camera back from her, beginning to focus it on a nice view of the lake from the bridge the two of you were standing on. Before you can snap the shot, the tour-guide’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he begins to speak about a more interesting topic.

“It’s said that this lake has a kelpie spirit living within its waters. Although, that can be said about any lake that’s big enough to swim in.”

As most tourists begin to talk amongst themselves, you grip onto the expensive camera once more, hoping to find that perfect shot you had before the man’s shrilling voice had interrupted your train of thought.

“Mommy, what’s a kelpie?”

As the little boy spoke, you took the chance to snap the shot as a bird flew on the lake's surface, leaving a black blur on the perfect shot!

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

The tour guide you grew to despise butted into the pair’s conversation to answer the boys question.

“That’s a good question kiddo! It’s said that the origins of the Kelpie were originally told as warnings to women and children alike to be alert at all times when not around their loved ones. Despite this, you can ask any local in the area and most could tell you their story of encountering the supposed myth. I suppose we’ll never know till we see one for ourselves. Though, if you’re unlucky enough to encounter such a myth, there’s the chance that you won’t live to tell the tale...”

The boy trembled as he gripped his mother’s dress tighter in his clutch. Your partner begins to scoot closer to you as she whispers into your ear.

“Psst! Hey, what do you think about those ‘kelpie’ hm?”

“It sounds like some sort of folk-lore they tell all the tourists here.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re no fun! I’d like to think they might not be as brutal as this guy says.”

Scoffing, you shake your partner’s hand from your shoulder as you look into the camera’s lens once more to take another picture.

‘I’m sure it’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as a shape-shifting kel-‘

Thinking this, you suddenly feel your body begin to fall forward as the bridge railing suddenly let out from beneath you. Before you realize it, you open your eyes to see the water's surface only a mere foot or two from your own face, the camera hanging by your neck and grazing the lake, your body beginning to be pulled back to its upright position.

Turning around to thank whoever it was that just saved you from having to pay for the company camera, you look to see nobody behind you. Nobody seemed to even be around you as you see Hoshi following behind the group of tourists, leaving you in the dust. You begin to chase after the group as you shake off the entire encounter.

Shuffling your bag off of your shoulder you threw it into the nearby chair, slumping into the couch that was adjacent to the chair. You began to hum to yourself as you felt the effects of the beer contest you had with Hoshi who you now knew was your supervisor. Thinking to yourself you remember losing that contest the two of you set up.

‘It was nice of her to pay for us and to bring me back home even though I lost. I should thank her tomorrow and try to pay her back if I can.’

Suddenly feeling the effects of the liquid courage, you stood up a bit too quickly, reaching your hand out to the couch you were just laying on. Not sure what to do, you reached for your phone to scroll through Tigtog, that was until you began to hear something strange. From what you could tell, it sounded like a voice, though you weren’t sure if it was male or female. Curiosity began to take the lead as you stood upright once more. Looking around, you began to walk around the cottage, seeing if there was anything on that could be making that noise. Eventually you found yourself outside in what looked to be the backyard of your little cottage, swaying side to side as you tried to listen for the voice once more.

“Y/N? Are- are you there?”

Under normal circumstances, after hearing an unknown males voice you’d already be locking the backdoor behind you after racing to that door. Tonight, however, was not the case as you yelled back the best you could of a response.

“yYeaa! Wwwhooo- whoo arre yOU?”

After saying this, you suddenly began to burp, probably due to the alcohol. Despite everything you had experienced thus far, for some reason your fit of burps could not be funner to you at that very moment as the voice spoke once more.

“T-That’s not important r-right now. I just wanted to make sure you made it back home safe.”

The liquid courage that coursed through your veins decided that you wanted to find out more about this stranger and began to walk into the forest. You began to sway as you attempted to find them, calling out to them in hopes of convincing them to stay and hang out.

“OoooOh c’mON now!! Don’t be liiiike that! Wh-wherrrreeee are ya? Le-le-let’s hanggg ouT for a bit! I-I *hic* think there’s cards in the liv-livingg roooom~! We- we can play a gggame of poKER and- and see what’s in the fridge. Man, now I’m hungryyy!”

Despite your lack of sobriety at the moment, you began to hear a few leaves crunch nearby. It appeared that for some reason or another, what you lacked in logic you seemed to gain in your basic senses. This theory proved true as you sniffed the air, you noticed that there was a lake nearby.

‘Since when the hell did I know what a river smelled like?’

Before you can continue on with your train of thought, the stranger responds once more. They seemed a bit panicked as you heard a twig snap, followed by more leaves crunching beneath their feet you suspected.

“D-D-Don’t come any closer! Y-You should go back h-home, you’re not t-thinking rationally.”

Not wanting to take no for an answer, you continue to walk to the source of the sound, hearing what sounded like a cascading river growing louder. Looking through the trees, you noticed a few yards away the river you had just heard. You speak up once more as you begin to walk toward the river.

“I-I don’t want to be alone r-right now… It-it’s stupid I know, I just...I’d just like to talk, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

Your vision began to blur as you rushed to the river's edge. It didn’t matter now if the stranger responded or not, your world began to crash down around you as you looked at the reflection on the water's edge. Sitting on your knees, small whimpers escaped your lips out as you covered your face with your hands. Despite the literal lack of sight, your emotions consumed you as it felt that everything around you was losing the light that once shone in your hopeful eyes.

At this point, you couldn’t hear any signs of life as you gripped harder at your face, only the sound of your quiet cries for help being all that echoed through that hollow forest. Assuming the worst, you began to move your hands from your face, dropping them by your side once more as you looked at your reflection once again.

“Y-You said you wanted to talk? T-That’d be fine, just- just promise you won’t cry anymore?”

There's a beat of silence, it seemed that not even the wind could speak as your body froze. Sure, you could convince yourself that you were just hearing things, that you were just acting aloof because you were feeling lonely. If you could get yourself on the couch, you could wake up and even tell yourself that the whole experience was just a really surreal dream you had. What you couldn’t convince yourself was the half naked man that appeared to be standing a few feet behind you, his voice matching his lips as you watched them move.

‘Maybe- maybe I’m just seeing things? That-that has to be right, right?! But alcohol doesn’t cause hallucinations and I’m positive that none of my drinks were spiked. So- so...Who the hell is this!?!’

“Are- are you okay Y/N?”

Your body grew stiff as you heard your name roll off of his tongue. If you weren’t getting clearheaded before, you definitely were cold sober now. Those shy indigo eyes that seemed to stare back at your own off of the river's surface as they brought you back to your senses.

‘There is a strange, half-naked man, who somehow knows you by your name, staring at you- talking to you! He doesn’t seem very intimidating, but then again he is a stranger!! In the best case scenario, he could just be a nice guy who found someone in need. Worst case, he’s a psycho that found their next victim! I can’t keep my back turned like this, I have to do something and get the hell out of this!’

Taking a shallow breath in, you swiftly turn your entire body around, facing the stranger that now made your body shiver in fear as you looked up at him. Despite the appearance of the situation, the man seemed to be intimidated by you as he looked away.

‘He doesn’t really seem like he wants to hurt me. If anything, he’s scared of me? Maybe I can intimidate him to leave me alone? Though, I don’t think I could pull it off seeing as I’m still a bit drunk…’

“Y-Y/N?”

Looking back at the man, you notice he begins to reach his hand out toward you, slowly beginning to walk toward your crouched form. Worried for the worst, you scoot away as you respond.

“H-HEY!! D-Don’t come any c-closer! If-If you don’t I-I’ll- ACK!”

Speaking this, you only now notice that there didn’t seem to be any more ground beneath you as you felt your body begin to fall into the river.

“Y/N!”

Before you can process everything that’s happening, you close your eyes in anticipation for the cold water that was bound to drown you. The stranger grabs your wrist, holding your body up above the river, your body mere inches from being submerged in the cold water. Noticing the lack of impact, you flutter your eyes open as you look back at the man before you. Shocked, the man looks down at where he grabbed your wrists. Only now do you notice a purple hue that surrounded both your arms.

“What- what is this?!”

At a loss for words, the man can only look back between your face and where he held your wrist. Confused and scared, you rip your arm from his grip as you stand yourself back up. As you stare at the man, you look around, befuddled by whatever the hell had just happened.

While a part of you would love to ask what just happened, the more logical side of you knew that none of this was worth hanging around to find out. Dusting yourself off, the man speaks up once more as he looks away in what seemed to be guilt.

“Y-Y/N, I-I’m so so-sorry!! I-I didn’t mean to t-touch you- What have I done?!”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you began to shuffle around the man, holding your hands up in surrender as you attempted to empathize with the man. Although, you weren’t sure why he was so worried since he didn’t seem to do anything besides whatever that purple glow was moments before.

“Hey, hey! We don’t have to speak about any of this. I’ll go back and after that we won’t have to ever see each other ever again, okay?”

“Y/N, i-it’s not that simpl- h-Hey, WAIT!!”

Before he had a chance to explain, you sprinted back to your cute rental cottage that you were now wishing you never left. Looking back, you notice the man just stood there as you were almost home.

Suddenly, your body stopped moving. What was even stranger, your body seemed to freeze mid-sprint. Looking around, you noticed that somehow your head was able to move but your arms were stiff as you attempted to force your body to run once more. Just as you were about to give up, your legs moved once more, wobbling as they felt gravity work once more. Not taking any chances, you began to dash once more. Not a second later, your body rolled forward from some sort of large and heavy impact. After your body finished rolling forward, you noticed that you were sitting in the backyard of the cottage, the man sitting on his head as his body laid against the door.

“W-Who or-or What are you?”

The man sighs as he flutters his eyes open, rubbing his head as he looks up at you.

“M-My name’s T-Tamaki Amajiki, and- and I’m a kelpie…”

~End of Part 1~

[nadezhda-wexler]

A Moment In Time, Again and Again

Hello @xoxobuckybarnes, It is I, your Summer Fic Exchange writer for @b99fandomevents.  Thank you for all your amazing prompts, but I ended up choosing “The Squad after ten years”. I really hope you enjoy it.

Also a few points:

 1) The whole story is non-linear. It’s like a series of snapshots. It’s related, but chronologically the don’t really make sense

2) It is smut adjacent? Implied smut? Idk, It’s just a few lines because honestly, it’s my first time writing anything like that

3) There might be some spelling errors and grammatical error, sorry if they put a damper on your experience

4) Thank you @b99fandomevents for giving this chance

5) MOST IMPORTANTLY: I hope you enjoy it.

There were many reasons Amy thought that might bring the squad together- well, mainly one- Scully dying (the man was already decaying when she was in the precinct), but this was not it. In fact, this was the opposite of it.

  She reads the sign again, still wondering if she dreamt it up. But nope. Norm Scully and Cindy Shatz were indeed getting married. 

  Amy walks into her old turf: Shaw’s Bar. She feels like she stepped into another universe, everything is different, but somehow, the same. It’s the place she came to right after her wedding. The stools are different and the bar more worn, but the place still feels warm like her wedding night. The back door leads right to the alley where she once tried to conceive (that was a low point) and judging by the fact the Hitchcock is standing right outside the bathroom with Scully nowhere in sight, she guesses even the bathroom smells (stinks) the same. 

  Her eyes sweep over the room, she can see Rosa and Gina huddles together and she already feels bad for their victim, Holt and Kevin are talking to Terry- it never stops amusing her seeing the very passionate Captain Jeffords squared against impassive Retd Captain Holt and Kevin. Charles is haranguing the caterers, when she hears a voice from behind: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

They had just gotten into the airport- Jake is bringing all their luggage while she is trying to get her children to calm down. While Maya knows everyone in the squad, Mac has lived with them more. So Mac has decided to fill in the blanks. His stories are wild and absolutely untrue and Maya is hanging onto each word. She was looking to see where her husband was when Maya suddenly tugged her hand and asked in wonder “Did Daddy really catch a thief by sending Mac in undercover?” “No. Your daddy never sent Mac undercover because he isn’t a cop and he is a baby”. “Well, I am not a baby and dad did do that, he just didn’t tell you”

 “What didn’t I tell your mom?”Jake joins them, luggage in tow. “That you sent me undercover to catch that thief” “Mac”, Jake says with fake indignation. “You weren’t supposed to tell that. It was our secret”  Mac’s eyes has that same mischievous glint she has seen a million times on her husband’s face as he says he told her to maya and launches into his story. They’re loading their luggage into the cart when Jake’s phone buzzes. “That’s Charles and he has already called me 5 times and messaged me a lot. I stopped counting after 10”, Jake says. “Kids, your Uncle Charles is waiting. You know how he gets when you are late!”, he adds.

  Mac, without any prompt, holds his sister's hands, so as to not lose her, still continuing with the  stories of his feats, she’s sure, without missing a beat. Her heart swells as she watches her kids, Mac being a protective older brother and Maya holding onto his hands and words. Her husband’s hand slips into hers as he asks “You ready to go?” She couldn’t be happier.

"Captain Santiago"

"Captain Holt! Hi!" Apparently even his retirement hasn't made Santiago less flustered. He won't deny there is a part of him that enjoys the reverence. "How was your first year running a precinct, Captain?" He enjoys calling her Captain almost as much as she enjoys hearing it. 

"Great! Super cool. Fantastic. Dope. No diggity no doubt" He briefly wonders if she had a stroke. 

"Okay, you saw right through me. It's not been easy. Manhattan is completely different from Brooklyn. The squad is also new, they all just transferred about a month or two before me. So they don't even know each other so everyone is walking on tiptoes. And they follow everything I say, but don't really see me as a leader."

"Well, the first precinct I ran, I had a detective who only cared about closing cases, everyone in the squad thought I was a robot, my two best detectives had a bet with each other, my Sargent was chained to the desk and the office administrator was Gina and I had Hitchcock and Scully"

"You are right. I shouldn't complain. I don't have a Hitchcock and Scully"

"No. But that was not what I was trying to say. Once I got closer to all of them, I realised that the detective who did not care, cares not just care about closing cases, the bet made both detectives better, my Sargent saved my life, Gina is still Gina and that being a robot doesn't make me a worse Captain. What you need to do Santiago, is trust your squad. You have a unique opportunity to build this team. But you cannot do that without unflinching trust. So trust them. Help them and let them help you. And if you ever feel the need, please do not hesitate to contact me. I might have retired from the force, but not from being your mentor"

"Wow! Thank you so much Captain. That means the world to me." Some people might call Amy Santiago a teacher's pet in an attempt to mock her, but the truth is she is a teacher's pet because she is a brilliant student. She revels in learning and enjoys implementing her knowledge even more. She is a teacher's pet not just because she is adept at brown nosing- which she admittedly does sometimes, but because she will be the student that teachers can one day be proud of. He might tell her this if it did not make her explode and also because Amy Santiago understands him, so he just smiles.

  They had barely reached the terminal before Charles pounced on Jake. Amy and the kids barely had the time to move away from being hit. Genevieve and Amy unload the luggage while the kids catch up. It takes the men one whole minute before they let go. 

  "Genevieve, thank you so much for taking the kids", Amy says.

  "Of course Nikolaj loves hanging out with Mac and Maya. It's my pleasure to watch them."

  "Still, thank you! And Jake-"

  "NO!", Charles almost pushes her down trying to get between Jake and her. "You get him every other day Amy, you cannot poach him away today."

  "Charles, I am not trying to poach him away. I just wanted to tell him to enjoy the night and have fun. Also you visited not three weeks ago and you guys FaceTime constantly."

  "FaceTiming is not the same Amy! It has been 28 days, 14 hours aaand three minutes since I have been covered in Jake's musk"

  “Ugh! Alright", Jake says. "Charles, why don't you take these two bags and load them into the cab while Amy and I bring the rest?"

  "Okay.", Charles says almost defeatedly. "Don't be late."

  Jake turns to her. "So what are your plans again?"

  "I will go to the hotel, have a long bath after which Rosa and Gina will come pick me up for the bachelorette party after which both will crash with me because according to Gina quote if I am going to stand next to you as a bridesmaid, you need to at least be six and you need help with that unquote"

  "I still can't believe Cindy asked you and Gina to be one of the bridesmaids"

  "Well, we did help them get together."

  "Yeah. And as this goes on, I will be with Charles hoping whatever he made is edible and missing you terribly"

  "Stop being a sap Peralta. And have fun tonight"

  "It’s Peralta- Santiago, FYI. And I will 100% have fun, but I'm still gonna miss you. I gotta go before Charles comes back. I love you"

  "I love you too."

   It was a tiring night and Amy just wants to take her makeup off and she really wants to be out of this dress for more than one reason. As much as she loves her kids- and that is a lot- she is glad that they wanted to stay at Holt's place. The kids love their Fauxpas (they are her kids, of course they know what faux pas means and more importantly, when Mac very proudly said it, both Kevin and Holt agreed that "it is a humorous wordplay"). Mac can never get enough of Holt's stories and Maya loves the Classics. She can recite Odyssey from memory. And both of them get away with things that only they (and maybe her husband) can- some stains of orange juice, mud in the house, a few broken glasses- all.of these are forgiven because it's their fauxchildren's doing (it doesn't work as well, but Holt was proud and Maya laughed and so it stuck). And after two days of wedding prep, she really needs a day without being worried about someone breaking something or constantly screaming. And even more than that with the way her husband has been looking at her all night, she really, really needs to be the one screaming. 

   She is halfway through taking off her makeup when Jake, sans jacket, (but with tie and damn, her husband looks fine) walks in. He puts his hand on her waist. "Babe, do you know how hot you look?"

  "Oh is it the running mascara that does it for you?"

  He pulls her in closer and from his look she knows that the screaming she was hoping is definitely happening. He says in a low voice  into her ear, "No. It's you." It's like each word he says vibrates inside her. "You having been driving me crazy all day. You in that blue dress. You knowing exactly how amazing your butt looks in that dress. You taking control when everything was falling apart. It's you Ames who does it for me."

  She turns around and pulls him by the tie and kisses him hard and he's lifting her up onto the counter, kissing every bit of her as he lowers his head between her legs. She thanks the stars that this is her life partner.

  (And later she'll counting the same as Jake twists his wrist in the way that he knows will bring over the edge.)

  Every time Jake sees his wife, he falls in love with her a little more. Which he wouldn't have believed possible sixteen years ago. She hasn't spotted him, so he takes her in for a minute. Every time he steps into Shaw's Bar, he remembers walking in as a newly wed couple. Sure afterwards the evening did take a turn, but until then it was perfect. Except before that when there was a bomb threat and an actual bomb and Teddy proposing like a thousand times. Wow, his wedding day was a mess. But still it was one of the happiest days of his life because even through all that, he was hitched to the most beautiful woman in the world. Who is now watching everyone waiting for him. 

  So he walks up to her, drinks in hand and says, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

  "Ooh , Casablanca", she takes a glass. "Yes. Charles and I watched it yesterday. We didn't even know what was going on half the time because Charles was crying and making noises half the time."

  "Oh, just Charles?" "Okay fine I was crying a little too. Okay a lot. Fine I was the one who was crying the most. Happy?"

  "Oh babe. It's cute that you think you should say that to me as if you didn't watch it for the first time with me"

 "Oh yeah. Well, I tried. Oh before you ask, the kids are all at the Jeffords' house and Cagney and Lacey are keeping an eye on them. And the best part: without a babysitter's fee."

  "Wow, I really missed friends' kids doing things for us for free. Remember when we babysat Cagney and Lacey for like three days straight, without even thinking of money?"

  "And if we were to go by the amount our babysitters charge, we'd have enough money to buy Orangina for a whole month." 

  They move to the counter, perched on the barstools. "You know Captain Holt just called me Captain"

  "He's been calling you a Captain for a year babe, you know, cause you've been a Captain for a year!" 

  "I know! Can you believe?!" 

  "Of course, because you are awesome and amazing"

  "Oh, and he also said that he's still my mentor and that I can call him for advice any time."

   "Wow, obviously today was a big day for you"  

  "I know" Her whole face is lit up. Her cheeks are flushed, from the drinks and the running around making things happen, from the many catching up and from the fact that her mentor called her Captain. Once again he's a little bit more in love. His eyes catch Cindy and Scully awkwardly shuffling around trying to dance. Hitchcock is trying to hide the fact that he's disappointed, but doing a pretty bad job of it. He sees Charles and Genevieve almost having sex which apparently is how they dance. The music changes to something familiar and his wife looks amazing and he wants to dance with her very much. "Amy Santiago- Peralta, may I have this dance? And don't worry, it's reinforced shoes so I won't even know if you step on me." "Ha ha Peralta- Santiago. You are my teacher, so if I'm stepping on your toes, it's your own fault"

  "Wow, blaming the victim." 

  They are on the dance floor, her hand in his, hand on his shoulder, his on her waist. He can see every little detail on her face, the mascara running a bit, lipstick that's smudged. Her perfectly set hair, falling around the edges. She's beautiful. 

    "I wonder why all the greatest love stories are so tragic"

  "Because that's what makes them great. The fact that their love is so powerful that it's unattainable."

  "Well I think that it's stupid."

  "What?"

  "That the greatest love of our life is the one we don't have. It's categorically untrue. My favourite love story has a happy ending anyway"

  "You mean Morticia and Gomez?"

  "That's my second favourite"

  "Well, what's your first?"

  "Ours, of course" She smiles and that's all he ever wants to see.

  Her hand is in his, the other moves to his chest. His are around her waist circling, as he pulls her closer and she rests her cheek on shoulder. He buries his nose in her hair and she nuzzles into his neck. If he'd imagined a perfect life sixteen years ago, not even in his wildest dreams he'd have thought he could feel like this. 

[dandyxrandy]

I love your writing! If requests are still open I would die for a touch starved Din x reader where reader has a hand kink 😩. When Din removes his gloves the reader traces his veins with her tongue 👅 . Can lead to smut if you want! Thank you! 🥰

Golden, I am SO sorry this took so long! I worked this past weekend so I wrote a lot in between hours. Hopefully its worth the wait! (I honestly didn’t think it was going to end up this long...) Pairing: Din x Reader Rating: Excplicit Length: 3.8k Warnings: First-Time Din, Touch Starved Din, Slight Hand Kink, Cuddling, No ACTUAL sex, Fingering (MtoF) Summary: It took a splinter to finally see Din’s hands. It Took A Splinter     It was small things at first, you noticed, and only when it was you two in the Razor Crest. It was first the removal of his cape, hung off the back of his pilot chair during long stretches of time in hyperdrive. His boots came next, staying off after a shower and only going back on when he needed to leave the Crest. Soon his armor stayed in his quarters all together and he walked around the hull in his black under clothes. His helmet and gloves always stayed on, though, still hiding all of his integrity and making him out to be nothing more than a shape of a human. It both infuriated and intrigued you, but overall you were happy that he felt comfortable enough to shed the armor and walk freely around his ship.    You were hired on as a temporary caretaker of sorts to watch Grogu while Din made his rounds through bounty pucks and the placement paid well enough that you continued your occupation well past the terms that were set. It didn’t help that the man was of good company either, even if he was more times grumpy than not and The Child had wormed his way into your heart as well. You dared say it was almost family like - the three of you.     It was why you took extra care of both the little womp rat and Din, making sure their clothes were well washed, food was made, and the ship was stocked with the necessities. It was your job and you did it well, something you took extreme pride in. It was a big step up from the ‘bar-maid that you once were’ and had much more security as well. It was why falling in a deep fondness for Din was such a bad idea. Getting attached to a job was never a good thought, yet here you were, spending more and more time lingering next to Din while he did mundane tasks like clean his gun or rewire his ship. Just being next to him made you at ease.     Then there was the fact that you loved watching his hands work along any piece of machinery or metal. What did he look like under it all, you wondered. Was he green like the kid? Maybe pale like an albino? Many nights you spent with your hand beneath the waistband of your pants, imagining what his fingers would feel like against your skin, against your lips and teeth and between your legs.

    “Dank farrik!” Din had cursed, causing you to peek your head around into the cockpit from the adjacent hall where you were busy counting out food rations. Din had been sitting in his chair for the past half hour, hunched over something.  You couldn’t quite tell from your angle what that something was, so you set aside the crate you were rummaging through and came in, wiping your hands down your soft pants.     “You okay?” you ask as you round his chair and immediately you freeze. It looked like Din was trying to remove something from his hand - a hand that was very much bare and not in a glove. In fact, neither of his hands were hidden behind the thick leather and the sight before you was scarred and worn skin. It was a tawny beige color that stretched over thick fingers and with every flex of his hand you could see the shift of tendons and veins beneath. It was such a beautiful sight.     Din looked up to you, the ‘T’ of his visor turning as he gestured briefly in his frustration.          “I have a sliver that I cannot get removed.” He turned his wrist to you to show the irritated red skin that was slightly inflamed in the meat of his hand, just below the thumb. It was in an awkward spot on his dominant hand and you could tell why he was having such a hard time. “It has been there for three days.”     “Do you want me to give it a go?” you sheepishly offer him, extending your hand out for the tweezers he was using to try and pry the sliver out with.  It would be the first time you touched him on purpose and you’re almost positive he knows this too, but after a moment of deliberation he lets out a sigh and hands over the tweezers.     “If you can’t get it out, I’m chopping it off.”     You snort at how dramatic he is and move to try to find an angle that works enough for you to work on him. Not finding one you end up dragging one of the ration crates over for you to sit on in front of him, his chair swiveling to the side to give more room. You offer out your open palm to him and he gives his hand over, gently letting it rest in yours. You swear you can hear your heartbeat against your chest with how nervous you are. His skin is dry and rough beneath your touch, but it was also warm and  human.     “How did you manage this?” you ask in attempt to distract yourself as you begin to work at the edges of skin surrounding the sliver. It was deep and no amount of bending his thumb or squeezing the surrounding flesh was making it budge.     “I got stuck when I brought in the crates. Stray piece of wood that I didn’t see. Went through the glove.” He was curt in his answer and you briefly looked up to see him watching you intently. You move the wrong way and the end of the tweezers plucks a raw bit of skin and Din swears, his other hand coming to curl around your knee in a heavy grip.     “Sorry!” you apologize, flinching away but the hand on your knee slips up to your lower thigh, holding you from moving to far away.     “Don’t. Just...get it out.” Din doesn’t remove his hand, though he does relax his grip a little.     You work on him for another few minutes, trying not to have a complete mental break at the fact that Din was touching you, and failing miserably. You felt sweaty and you kept having to refocus on your task because your mind continued to stray to the way Din was letting his thumb trace along the seam of your pants, probably to comfort himself as you dug away the sensitive skin.     “Alright this just isn’t working, but I have an idea.” you said as you set the tweezers aside. “You’re going to have to trust me on this. I had a friend growing up that swore by this method, okay?”     Din nodded and watched as you brought his hand up to your mouth, lips wrapping around the base of his thumb to create a seal. You sucked in as you dug your bottom teeth into the flesh of his hand and scraped up with them. Pulling away to look, you saw that the sliver moved up a little and couldn’t help but beam up at him.     “I almost got it!” Din’s hand stilled on your thigh as you brought his hand back to your mouth and repeated what you did before and you felt the tiny piece of wood almost instantly push out and stick to your tongue. You grinned as you let go of him and licked the wood onto your hand, showing him the little piece.     “Got it!”     In your triumph you almost missed the cant of the helmet towards you and the way Din shifted, his legs spreading a little wider as he leaned in to cup your cheek. He took hold of your jaw, his thumb brushing along the soft skin there as his other hand slid from your thigh, up to your hip.     “Thank you.” The voice coder made his breaths sound heavy.. You stilled under his touch, eyes dropping as your cheeks heated and you saw his cock hard between his legs. Oh. Your eyes snap back up to the visor as Din moves his thumb across your lower lip and you part them, your tongue easing out to press against the pad of his finger. Din’s grip tightens on your hip as he pushes his thumb further in and you meet it with a gentle press of your tongue.     He hisses as you move, dragging your mouth from his thumb to the crook where his pointer finger met the curve of his hand and you kiss there, then his palm.  You take his hand gently by the wrist and turn it over to kiss the tendons and the dark veins beneath his skin, your tongue tracing along each strand. Din practically whines beneath the touches and you want to do more to praise the skin that he showed you - that he let you taste.     “It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone…” he admits in a low whisper.     “How long?”     You don’t stop the gentle worship of his hand, your lips ghosting over every crease and fold of him, mapping out every little scar and break of skin. These hands have seen so much, taken many lives, and here they were gentle and soft and open for you.     “Since...I was a child.”     Your heart drops because that was not what you had expected. He hadn’t touched anyone for his entire adult life? You didn’t think something like that was even possible but you also didn’t know much about the Mandalorian Creed, either. Were they celibate until marriage, if they even married? You knew Din had touched others in a more violent sense, what with the nature of his profession but you knew what he meant in his admission.  It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone, skin to skin.     You take his hand and guide it down your neck, letting his fingers flex briefly around your throat before you take it lower across your collarbone and down your chest to graze over the mound of your breast. You leave it there and let him linger and explore in his own time.     “It’s okay, Din - “ you squeeze his hand below yours, making him feel your soft flesh in reassurance. “You can touch me.”It was almost as if you undid a leash on him with your permission. He was quick with you and in the next moment he had you hauled into his lap, legs straddling his hips as he all but tore your shirt off, tossing it to the side of the chair. You let out an indignant squawk at his rough handling and you felt embarrassment under the sudden exposure. You moved to cover yourself but Din;s fingers wrapped around your wrists to keep your hands lowered at your sides.     “Please, let me…” he trailed off as he lifted his hands slowly and you noticed they had a slight tremble to them. Long fingers touched just beneath your jaw and trailed down your neck again, the tips warm and teasing. You could feel the hard line of his erection against your thigh and you knew that his touches weren’t all in innocent exploration.     His fingers traced over your collarbones again, twin images in their movements, and they dropped lower across the plane of your chest above your breasts. He smoothed his palms down and over, flush against you before they moved low, each hand taking a breast and weighing them in his cupped palms. The tips of his nails scrape over your nipples and you both watch as the skin puckers beneath the touch. He does it again and tweaks the nub at the end and it makes you gasp, your hands slipping lower to grip Din’s legs.     You wanted to touch him like he was touching you but you didn’t want to risk breaking the moment. So many times have you imagined this, imagined him touching you and it took a damned sliver in his hand to get you here.     “You’re so soft.” Din turns a hand over and lets his knuckles skim along the dip of your waist and the curve of your hip before stroking lightly across your belly, then back again. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His fingers linger a bit longer when they dip along the hem of your pants and they slip beneath for a moment before surfacing again. A war waged in his mind and you hoped that the outcome would end up with your pants on the floor.     Din heaved a heavy sigh as his hands slid along your sides and up your back to the base of your skull where he threaded his fingers into your hair. You rocked closer, pressing into his chest as you leaned against him, chin resting on his shoulder. He was content to play with your hair there, his fingers rubbing along your head. You felt like there wasn’t a part of you that he hadn’t touched, above the band of your pants, and yet there was so little of him that you had yourself.     “Din, I want to touch you.” you paused, moving in his lap a little, hips shifting against his thigh in a slow grind, a small mischievous ploy to help get what you wanted. “Please?”     He hummed low in his chest but he didn’t make a move beyond a slight flex of his hands that were now on your shoulders, palms curving across the bend of bone and muscle. You arched into him again, your hips pressing more firmly against his own and your cunt dragged across his length again. Maker, you were wet just from him touching you like this.     “Din -” you began again but stopped when you heard the sound of a wrapper crinkle. You perked up and looked over Din’s shoulder and saw the very tip of one green ear in the next room over.     “Fuck, Din,” You scramble a little at seeing Grogu not ten feet away, and while he was preoccupied with scarfing down ration bars, you didn’t want to chance him seeing you topless on top of his Dad. “The kid.”     You get your shirt back on after getting to your feet and you watch Din adjust himself in his pants as he swivels the chair back around to face the control panel. Grogu looked over from the ration crate he had been plundering and cooed with happiness at finally being given attention. You ran a hand through your hair, composing yourself.     “I’ll get him back to bed,” you say shakily. “He was probably just looking for a snack.” Which he obviously found. You go to pick the kid up but Din stops you by catching your hand.     “Thank you for...that.” The last word was almost a mumble,  as if he was unsure how to explain what just happened between the two of you. You gave his hand a small squeeze.     “I would like to do it again, sometime. Maybe after I get the kid to bed?” It was a bold offer and you toed your luck with giving it up but after Din practically melding his hands into your skin, you thought you didn’t have much more to lose. Din squeezed your hand in return, though.     “I would like that.” ___     It took about an hour to get Grogu back to sleep after he had finished his snack of three ration bars and a concentrated juice pack. The endless stomach of the kid never ceased to amaze you, even after you’ve seen him eat about a dozen frogs on the last planet that you all had been on. When Din came to find you later, you had the kid in your arms, and were edging close to the land of sleep as well. You gave a somnolent smile and pressed a finger to your lips to ‘hush’ Din, even though he had appeared in the doorway without a sound. You set the kid inside his pod and clicked the button to slide the doors shut and waited a moment to see if there would be any fuss from the other side. When none came you sat on the edge of Din’s bed, heaving out a sigh of relief.     “He may be the cutest little cock-block that I have ever encountered in my life,” you jested. Din didn’t move from his stance against the doorway and it made you a little unsure of yourself. Your hands smoothed down your pants to rest on your knees as you contemplated what to do. What did Din think of everything before? Did he regret it now that time and space had been given to the both of you?     While you were with the kid you had reflected back on your actions as well and while you didn’t regret what had happened, you did regret that you didn’t take your time to assure Din that things would be fine between the both of you and that if he wanted to forget that it ever happened, you would act like such. You didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you.     “It is late. I suppose I should let you get some sleep, too. I’ll pilot for a bit.” When you stood, Din finally spoke.     “Did you mean what you said before? About wanting to ‘do it again sometime’?”     You answered without really thinking, letting your heart lead first before your mind could catch and silence it.     “I did.”     Din’s head tipped and you imagined his eyes closing in thought and you wondered what he was thinking. You hoped it was about touching you again. Maker, you wanted him to touch you again.    “I would like that. Kriff - let me, please.” It sounded like a plea as he closed the distance between both of you, his hands sliding up to cup your face. His gloves were still off and his fingers were warm as they slid against your skin. The cool metal of his helmet dipped against your forehead to rest there as he held you close. It almost felt like a kiss and for all you knew, it was the closest thing you would get to having one with him. When you didn’t pull away Din shifted to press closer.     “Take off your clothes,” he softly whispered. “And lay on the bed.”    The command left you shaky with need and you fell into a gentle movement as you removed your clothing, Din stepping back enough to watch you expose yourself to him. You glanced briefly to the egg pod that Grogu was in and the lights blinked gently to indicate that the little one was still asleep inside. You would have to stay quiet.     Your shirt came first, up and over your head. The cool air of the ship made your skin raise with gooseflesh and Din reached out to touch your arm, thumb rubbing over the prickled flesh. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you leaned down to take off your pants and underwear in one go, Din’s hand slipping into your hair as you did. He wasn’t making this any easier.     “On the bed.” It sounded like it was more for himself than you but you moved away from his touch and laid where you were told to, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched Din move to kneel before you. Awareness sprung to the forefront of your mind and you realized just how very naked you were and it made you blush.     Din was slow, too, as he reached to touch the bone of your ankle and up, his palm curving over your shin to form against your leg. It was so tender, how he touched you, and you reveled in it. His touch slid higher towards the warmth between your legs and you shut your eyes, head tipping back as his knee knocked your legs apart to reveal yourself to him. “Mesh’la,” he muttered, his fingers stopped at your hip as he looked you over. You felt so hot under his gaze even though you couldn’t see anything past the black visor. Arching into his touch you allowed your legs to bend and your hips shift up so he could see all. His hand traveled from your hip to the space just below your belly and his heel dragged across your pubic mound, then further.     He covered you fully at first, his palm curling before his fingers dragged along your outer lips then inner. You canted your hips up into the touch and the very tips of his fingers pressed inside. You moaned out his name before remembering you needed to be quiet and you pressed a hand against your mouth as he explored further up to the first knuckle of one finger.     You were already so slick and open for him and it made it easy for him to slide all the way in and then pull back out to add a second finger. He slowly fucked you with his hand and when he curled his fingers up you had to catch yourself from pitching forward. It was so good - almost enough. You reached down to join his hand and you spread yourself with your fingers, your thumb pressing against your clit.     “Here,” you breathed. “Touch here, too. Steady and slow. Don’t go fast, not yet.”     Din’s thumb flicked up and over and you bucked up again into the touch. His free hand came down on your stomach, pressing your hips back into the mattress as he rubbed small circles on your clit while his fingers remained in you, stretching you full.     “Kriff -that’s so good.” It was a praise that spurred him forward, keeping his thumb pressed down but speeding up to a quicker stroke. Your body arched up despite his hold and you twisted beneath him as you felt the head of your arousal rumble deep. A thin sheen of sweat broke across your skin as Din kept at you, steady and so beautifully dedicated. He listened to your whines and pants of pleasure and adapted to it.     “I’m gonna - fuck…” Your hands twist in the sheets of the bed, your entire being becoming taught as your orgasm builds beneath Din’s hands.     “Cum for me, ad’ika.”     You do, your legs shaking as Din strokes the fire within, along your clit, and through your body’s movements beneath him. He rides your release with you and you know he’s watching it all, his gaze behind the helmet heavy on your flushed skin.     Through your haze you can feel how gentle he is with you, his hand no longer bringing you over the edge but now coaxing you to ride the slope down. He holds you, your leg and your hip, his thumbs peeling over and over against the skin in a gentle worshiping caress. Blinking lazily you turn to him, glance down between his own legs and see the dark patch gathering there and you couldn’t help but smile. He hushes you and moves to cover your body with his own, his weight held up by the frame of his arms.     “Thank you,” Din’s voice is soft through the vocoder.     “Let me -” You reach down between the both of you but Din catches your wrist.     “Not tonight. Let’s just stay like this,” He pauses as you frown a little. “Please,” He adds and you agree, settling beneath the cover of his body in the knowledge that he just wanted to take care of you and take greedy touches of your skin. The warm weight of him sends you in and out of sleep and you twist to settle more comfortably on your side. Din moves with you and lays behind, his body pressed up to every inch of your backside and legs twining with yours.

It was, perhaps, the best way you have fallen asleep in a very long time.

[gaybyevening]

edeleth writing exercise

once in a while to get over writer’s block i do this exercise where i shuffle my playlist and write something about my chosen pairing, based on the song, and only through the duration of the song! it’s a lot of fun.

i wanted to do something for Valentine’s Day, but... huh. I don’t know. Maybe if I put my intentions out there I’ll be more motivated to follow through, who knows.

i think i’ll do another instalment of this in edeleth and doropetra and then i’ll write something more substantial in honour of valentines day. who knows. not me.

warning for nsfw content (nothing major though. no smut. maybe smut-adjacent)

1.    Aly & AJ – Take Me

Edelgard will not apologise for her crude language, and it needs saying: Byleth makes her horny. The attraction isn’t entirely physical, of course, but right here, right now, she just wants Byleth to push her against the door and devour her whole.

The problem is… she doesn’t actually know what they are. They’ve been texting back and forth for a few months; they’ve hung out (alone, she should add) multiple nights every week, and… huh. It’s kind of frustrating. Does Byleth not see how much Edelgard wants her?

 2.    5 Seconds of Summer – She’s Kinda Hot

Edelgard has a folder in her phone, full of candid photos of Byleth, sent to her by her friends. So far the most prolific contributor is Dorothea, followed closely by Ferdinand, of all people (and much to her horror. How could Ferdinand, of all people, notice her crush on Byleth? It’s okay, Edelgard thinks, because she can retaliate by sending him pictures of Hubert during their study groups.)

(Unfortunately, even Petra, Linhardt and Bernadetta have joined in on the fun.)

It’s two in the morning and there’s a text from an unknown number. It’s a picture of Byleth in her glasses, descaling a fish with stern concentration all over her face. There’s a blur of green near the edge of the picture.

Greetings, Edelgard. I thought you’d appreciate this.

Oh, no. Not Flayn.

 3. The Turtles — Makin’ My Mind Up

Her suitcase is filled to overflowing with her clothes and other knick-knacks that have brought her joy over the years. The day is finally here: she’s finally able to run away with her beloved, just the two of them.

Byleth had brought her to the countryside once six months previously to look at the small and humble cottage they were going to move into soon, and the thought of a simple live delighted her to no end.

Days of idle and nothing nothing nothing with Byleth and maybe her friends whenever they stop by.

 4. Elvis Presley — It’s Still Here

It’s hard to be broken up and stay broken up when the ex-girlfriend involved is your bodyguard. Edelgard feels a migraine fading into existence as she sits at some corporate event, Byleth by her side.

She looks away when she catches Byleth’s eyes, her own face becoming redder. It’s the same look she’s given when they’re about to absolutely desecrate Rhea’s office.

 5. Sleater Kinney — Gimme Love

There’s a desperation to how Byleth peppers small kisses down her girlfriend’s neck. Perhaps it’s the fact that Rhea may enter her office at any second. Perhaps it’s the fact that they haven’t done this in a few months.

Perhaps it’s the fact that she still doesn’t know what any of this means.

“Byleth, I think I l-” Edelgard is cut off by Byleth’s lips on hers. Well, she never finished that thought anyway.

 6. The Cure — Secrets

In the dead of night Byleth strokes the side of Edelgard’s cheek and the younger woman stirs, slowly opening her eyes.

“Yes, my dear?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m sorry for waking you up,” Byleth answers with a kiss on her cheek.

Edelgard wants to snuggle into Byleth’s chest, but perhaps the grogginess isn’t letting her. Perhaps it’s something else, she doesn’t currently have the mental capacity to analyse every single action. That can happen when the sun is up.

Byleth sighs. In a few moments she will dress and slip out and into her own bed.

 7. Brian Eno — Shell

 Little Maude laughs as she picks up another seashell and puts it into her bucket. She inspects it and deems her collection sufficient and waddles towards her parents, handing her bucket to Byleth.

“Make my castle pretty, please Mama, Mommy,” she says with her best puppy-dog eyes, and Edelgard starts arranging Maude’s seashells on the girl’s sandcastle.

 8. Lush — Desire Lines

Byleth murmurs in her sleep. Edelgard finds that out the third time Byleth sleeps over, much to her delightful surprise. The older woman is almost always composed and cool that at first Edelgard almost bursts out laughing when she realises it’s Byleth making small noises.

“You murmur in your sleep,” Edelgard says the next morning with a gentle, mirthful smile. “It’s very cute.”

There’s a blush forming across Byleth’s cheeks, red almost as furious as Edelgard’s covers.

(A few nights later she finds out Edelgard lightly snores in her sleep if she is very thoroughly exhausted.)

 9. Julie London — Easy Street

 There’s a signature frantic knock on the door. Edelgard knows instantly who it is. “Go away, Ferdinand,” she sniffles.

“Edelgard, I still don’t have your part of the assignment yet, and it’s due in two hours,” he says, a hint of panic in his voice.

“And if you’d let me talk, you’d know she’s sick today and has passed her part onto me,” Edelgard hears Hubert’s voice in the hallway.

“Ah! My apologies, Hubert. You know this class is important to me and I forgo any thinking at the thought of missing deadlines for it.”

“It’s quite alright, Ferdinand; although, you can make it up to me by buying me my favourite coffee.” Edelgard is absolutely disgusted. She’s alone this Valentine’s Day and the two are out there… doing that? Unacceptable—

She receives a text from Byleth. All is well again.

 10. Years & Years — If You’re Over Me

This what-are-we relationship is going to be the death of her, someday. Technically, they’re broken up. They’ve been broken up for almost half a year now. (And yet, in that period, they have slept together a total of fifteen times. Shamefully, Edelgard has kept count.)

There’s just… something absolutely irresistible about Byleth in her bodyguard uniform, looking all stoic, accompanying her everywhere.

She’ll continue thinking later. For now, all her focus is on Byleth and her lips on Edelgard’s clavicle.

 11. Purity Rings — Shuck

The only light in the room is from the moon, shining through the curtains. It hits gently on Edelgard’s face, and Byleth stops her ministrations for a while to admire her wife’s face. All she can think is beautiful beautiful beautiful and all she wants right now is to let Edelgard know that she is utterly and thoroughly loved: the good and bad parts.

Byleth smiles, all happiness and love, and continues undressing her wife and she is stuck in worship all night.

 12. Hayley Kiyoko — Ease My Mind

Edelgard has been weird all month. Dorothea can see that. She’s been smiling at her phone, and yet weirdly refuses to share what’s so funny. She’s been sneaking around the post-grad dorms early in the morning and in the dead of night.

“Edie, can I talk to you about that assignment from last week? I can’t seem to find the right answer for this question right here…” Dorothea rambles, while a shadow sneaks behind Edelgard.

“Dorothea, who is this B.E. person? They seem to be sending lewd texts to Edelgard.”

“Byleth?”

“You roped Petra into this?”

 13. The Radio Dept — This Time Around

They shouldn’t even be here.

Here is the ruins of a monastery ruined by a war thousands of years ago. Byleth doesn’t know how she ended up here. (It’s the voice in her head. The same one that screams that this face is a familiar one.)

“Come here, Kid! I got something to show you,” Jeralt’s gruff voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

“Miss von Hresvelg?” A man’s voice carries through the grounds and everything grinds to a halt.

 14. Derek & the Dominos — I Am Yours

Byleth is in Brigid to consult on something. That is, at first. One thing led to another and she’s stuck there for another month. This would be a total disaster had it not been the letters they’ve sent each other back and forth.

As it is, it has been two weeks since the last letter and Edelgard is on the edge of her seat waiting for the next one. She’s been restless, every day asking Hubert for any new correspondence.

“I truly do miss her,” Edelgard says, sipping her tea.

That comment broke Dorothea. “Goddess, Edie, just text her like a normal person, I’m begging you.”

 15. Sparklehorse — Heart of Darkness

Byleth has an unbeating heart and a darkness that follows her wherever she goes. She also has a goddess’s voice berating her when she misses the chance to kiss Edelgard.

As it stands, everything is alright, she reckons. Edelgard isn’t in the best place for romance: she’s busy with her final year project thesis and she’s in preparation to inherit her family’s company.

She’ll just be there, a shoulder to lean on, when Edelgard is tired from carrying the weight of the world.

[heyscience]

If I Were Inquisitor - Ask Meme.

@batsintheshadows @tea-me-and-smut @foxywolfmeerkat13 @howling-at-night OMG THIS IS SO FUN YOU GUYS HOLY SHIT!! Thanks so much for writing yours, and I’m so stoked to finally share mine!

If you are reading this and want to give it a shot, please reblog the original post and I’ll send you an ask! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH, I LOVE READING PEOPLE’S ANSWERS. THEY’RE ALL. SO GOOD!!!!

1. Race: I want to be a giant muscley mountain of a Qunari. I wanna be the very best, like no-one ever was, at smashing my enemies’ faces in and giving the best goddamn hugs there is. 

2. Class/Specialization: Two-handed Warrior/Champion. I like hitting things, and I love the idea of getting involved in all that pompous Orlesian chevalier bullshit and RUINING IT for ALL OF THEM.

3. Your homeland? It’s gotta be somewhere warm and by the sea (because I love the ocean and also I can’t deal with the cold cos I am WEAK), so I’m thinking Rivain. Ooh! And that would mean I’d have a bunch of sick tattoos and piercings! Rad.

4. Your family? (Ok so I’m basing this loosely off my irl family because they’re my best point of reference I guess????)

So, my family. I love them, but they’re a mess.

My Mum was the ideal Tamassran. A devout adherent to the Qun. She worked as a healer and was very well respected in her field.

That was until she met my Dad, who in short, looked at the Qun and was like ‘fuck this shit I’m out.’

Dad was a soldier and one day he was wounded in battle, ended up in the hospice where Mum worked, wooed her, and they ran away together to Rivain.

They had my brother and I and then realised that they’re actually polar opposites and it’s a wonder they were ever attracted to each other. They split up, re-partnered and had more kids. So I have a pile of siblings that I have varying degrees of blood relation with, but we all consider each other fully part of our extended, convoluted family (for serious - irl I have 9 siblings).

Mum taught me business sense and how to tend to battle wounds, Dad taught me how to fight. I’ve got a lot of family of various races all over Thedas, all related (not necessarily by blood) one way or another. People say lovely things about my Mum, and the craziest things about my Dad - the stories of his exploits are so outrageous it’s difficult to believe any of them are true (like irl my dad was involved in organised crime for a while but quit cos he got bored????).

I love my family but I’m really bad at keeping in contact with them, so I get the occasional letter from Mum being like ‘ARE YOU DEAD?!’

Leliana has taken to sending her reassuring updates preemptively.

5. Who were you before? I imagine I’d be part of something like a dnd adventuring party.

We started out as a ragtag group of misfits, travelling the land in search of gold and glory. It was mostly treasure hunting and mercenary gigs, and some of the work we did on the high seas was um, legal-adjacent (piracy). But occasionally we’d stop to lend a hand to those in need, pass ourselves off as bards to earn extra coin in small-town taverns, and we even involved ourselves in vigilante justice a couple of times.

We grew into our own little family, and eventually we found ourselves wanting to do the type of work that really mattered. That’s why we signed ourselves up to work security at the Conclave, with a plan to move into aiding refugees in Ferelden afterwards. It didn’t. Quite. Work out that way. Unfortunately.

6. Would you be religious? That’s a hard no.

7. Do you have a mabari? YES PUPPY! Who is also a fully fledged member of our adventuring troupe I might add.

8. Your opinion on other races? Elves = rad, dwarves = awesome, humans = eh, dragons?? = HELL YES

9. What would Varric’s nickname for you be? Stubby.

10. What would your tarot card look like? This one is hard! I’m thinking a lot of compass imagery (because the sea and travelling and finding your way etc.)...and I’d have to be facing at an angle that best accentuates my glorious biceps.

11. Where would you hang out in Skyhold? I like to be in the centre of the action, but I’m not sure where that would be?? Probably in the main Skyhold courtyard near the entrance, in amongst the merchants? It’d be a good spot to see the comings and goings, check in with recruits and workers for the Inquisition, and also play with any kids who might be around. 

It’s important to make sure the kids of the Inquisition are happy and healthy and, um, ok Josie I’ll admit it, they’re also way more fun to hang out with than that stuffy noble whoeverthefuck you just brought in from Orlais.

12. What would you do for fun? Knock back beers in the Herald’s Rest with my companions, come up with dirty drinking songs with Sera, get blackout drunk with Dorian (although I’ll eventually realise it’s a very unhealthy coping mechanism and encourage Dorian to join me in cutting down the booze), swap stories and quality bants with Varric, beg Vivienne for fashion advice, gush over romance novels with Cass, have tea and gossip sessions with Josie, poke fun at Cullen, spar with the Inquisition recruits (and scare the shit out of them), and, just anything to distract from the looming horror that is Corypheus.

13. What armour would you wear? Heavy, shiny, and bloodstone red.

14. What would your room look like? Organised chaos. I love playing host so my room would look mostly neat, but the writing desk would be an absolute mess. It would probably make poor Josie hyperventilate (which is why I’d always suggest we discuss things in her office, or at least give me plenty of notice before swinging by my chambers so I can tidy up). 

15. Who would be your friends at Skyhold? I’d wanna be friends with pretty much everyone, but I think I’d be closest with Dorian (BUT of course only after giving him a solid scolding for his views on slavery, and I’d only continue talking to him if he came to his senses).

We have a very similar sense of humour, and. Oh man. I have way more feelings about this than I thought I would. In short - I can imagine both laughing with him and collapsing on the floor together with a bottle of wine (each) and many tears.

16. Would you have any friends outside of the Inquisition? This makes me sad because my closest friends outside the Inquisition would be my adventuring party and they..would’ve...the Conclave...EVEN MY MABARI. MY POOR PUPPY. OH GOD WHY. TOO MANY FEELINGS.

17. Who wouldn’t you get along with? Cole. It’s not that I don’t like him, I’d just be super awkward around him, like ‘HELLO SPIRIT CHILD HOW ARE YOU TODAY. OH, IS THAT AN INSECURITY OF MINE YOU JUST POINTED OUT?! WELL COOL, GOOD TALK.’ 

18. Who would you romance? I know this isn’t possible in Inquisition but I would like to be in a polyamorous relationship with Isabela. SHE IS MY FICTIONAL SOULMATE OK.

(Also I’m more than a little bit in love with Cullen but I hate myself for it so)

19. Would you do pranks with Sera? AbsoLUTELY.

20. Would you sleep with the Iron Bull (casually if not romance)? 100% YES. It’d only be an occasional thing tho, cos while I’m a masochist and I like being tied up I’m not really a sub. I’d mostly go to him for bondage tips and um. Requests for. Demonstrations.

21. Would you keep Cole around? Yes. I’d still be weirded out by him, but I acknowledge that it’s completely not his fault. I’d take his word for it that he just wants to help people and let him have at it with that freaky mind-reading and vanishing shit he does.

22. Can you play the game (politics)? A little bit. I’d have to work the scandal angle. Being a Qunari I could never hope to assimilate into the realms of the nobility, but I could win their favour by being something of a novelty. Much like Casanova in this brilliant adaptation starring David Tennant - watch from 10:42.

You see, you don’t have to be liked by everybody, just the right people, and you can usually get them onside by just being very fucking entertaining.

23. What would be on your tombstone in the fade (What are you afraid of)? Ghosts. I’m not sure how well that translates to a Thedas setting but still, it’s my biggest fear so I’m sticking with it.

24. Who would you recruit to seal the breach? Mages.

25. Opinion on Mages versus Templars? Ok, so I have a proposal for how to fix this bullshit:  

1. The Chantry should relinquish any and all control over the affairs of mages. Separation of Church and State, simple as that.

2. The Templar Order should be disbanded, and the practice of indenturing soldiers by saddling them with a lyrium addiction should be banned.

3. All people in Thedas (and I mean ALL) should be taught about magic from a young age, both the gifts and dangers of its use. Everyone should learn about magical safety and how to resist demonic possession.

4. Mage children should attend the same schools as everyone else, but they can hone their skills in their late teens to early adulthood in mage colleges, with free tuition paid by the State (of wherever part of Thedas this is). They can research magic, learn a trade or train in combat, whatever they choose. Mages will be allowed to earn money, marry, have families, and have some actual freaking rights. None of this ‘hunt ‘em down and lock ‘em up’ bullshit.

5. Also the Rite of Tranquility WHAT THE FUCK. I can’t believe it’s a thing people actually agree to do. This rite should be downright fucking outlawed, and severe penalties levelled at the people who attempt it.

26. Who would be put in charge of Orlais and why? Briala. I wouldn’t suggest to Briala that she should get back together with Celene, because honestly their relationship was really fucked up and Celene abused the power imbalance between them. Briala deserves better (like for example me..maybe...but y’know, only if she wants to..)

So I would keep Celene on the throne but hand over all real power to Briala. Celene is a crafty one however, so we’d have to corner her with blackmail and keep a hidden killswitch on hand in case she tries to pull a fast one on us (just like the Voltron kids should be doing with Lotor, which sorry, I know that isn’t related but I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT IT).

27. Would you sacrifice the Chargers? NEVER.

Seriously Fuck the Qun. The Qun actively promotes eugenics with how they selectively “breed” their people. ALSO the Qunari are gaslighted into believing that they will literally go insane if they don’t follow the Qun?!!!?!?!!??!??! FUCK THAT SHIT.

So yeah, I was never keen on the idea of allying with the Qunari, so when Gatt’s like ‘if you sacrifice the dreadnought there will be no alliance’ I’m like ‘I am ok with this.’ Also, of course, I love the Chargers with all my heart and couldn’t bear to lose them.

28. Would you go after Blackwall? Yeah. He should put all his moral posturing to good fucking use and try being an actual hero. I’d make him join the Wardens, cos it’s effectively a death sentence (or an early grave at least ) and I don’t 100% dislike him, so I know he’d be cool with it because he has a giant fucking hard-on for the Wardens (Jesus fuck). 

29. Would you drink from the well? Nnnnnoooooooooo..and it’s because I would fucking die for Morrigan. I wish I could say I have a well considered reason, but I’m just pathetic like that. She could say jump and I’d say ‘I’d rather not, but, counter offer - would you instead like to sit on my face?’ 

30. Where would you go if the Inquisition was disbanded? Minrathous. It’s warmer there (I love Skyhold but fucking hate the cold), and I would involve myself in the inevitable slave uprising - helping out in whatever way I can. Also I’d just be having a fucking great time terrorising the Magisters, rocking up at the Magisterium like ‘LOOKIT ME I’M A RAGING QUNARI HERE TO INVADE, RARRGHH!! oh hey Dorian, what’s up babe how’ve you been????’

31. How do you react to the egg telling you he is an elven god? The five stages of grief:

Denial - lol no ur not, you’re our painty pyjamas nerd! 

Anger - Wait, so it’s YOUR FUCKING FAULT MY FRIENDS AND EVERYONE ELSE DIED AT THE CONCLAVE??!?! I AM GONNA GUT YOU AND STRING YOU UP BY YOUR INTESTINES SO I CAN USE YOUR WEEDY BODY AS A GORE PINATA YOU FUCKING MONSTER 

Bargaining - but you’re a god right? Does that mean you can bring them back? Can you undo all this somehow? You gotta have superpowers or some shit right??!?

Depression - After all we’ve been through...you never even saw us as people, did you? Did you ever think of me as a friend? Or anyone else? How could you be ok with murdering your friends? Solas, please, you don’t have to do this. I know that if we work together we can find a better way. You don’t have to destroy the world to save it.

Acceptance - ..................I fUCKING HATE YOU SOLAS.

[fyrapartnersearch]

video game-based originals + more!!

hello hello!

i’m niamh, i’m 26, and i am looking for new partners!

i’m just going to write a confusing blurb about myself and my preferences so you can get an idea of how i roleplay and whether we’ll be compatible!

my foremost goal is for both of us to get some kind of fulfilment and enjoyment out of this thing we’re embarking on. i’m a very laid back partner and pretty much all i want is dynamic characters in interesting settings with complex relationships.

i’m very into doubling (though i don’t require it!). if we’re doubling i’ll play whatever gender in whatever pairing my partner wants and hope that you are willing to do the same for me, my preference being to play f in m/f (so if you exclusively do m/m or f/f or nb or you don’t play male we probably won’t be compatible).

i use gdocs, email, and discord to rp and prefer to ooc over discord but email is fine as well! i don’t have any other messengers.

i’m super ditch friendly. i’m not gonna hunt you down or anything if you go AWOL and if you want to pick up later just let me know!

my limits are very basic. no kink/fetish-driven roleplays, nothing obscene involving minors, etc. i’m not someone who really enjoys writing gratuitous smut so if you’re hoping for a lot of that you’ll probably be somewhat disappointed.

i do require that my partners be 20 or older. i’m wallowing in the second half of my 20s so it’s just more comfortable for me if we’re in the same general age group!

if we use faceclaims, i only use real people. feel free to request an fc if you have one in mind!

now for the difficult part: articulating what i want to roleplay.

i don’t have a lot of ideas and the ones i have are pretty big and general so i’ll try to sketch them out in a semi-coherent way!

i recently played dear esther and i’m still reeling. this would obviously be impossible or at least very difficult to straight up roleplay but if you have any familiarity with the game or are just a fan of super isolated, moody, slightly spooky settings then this might be an idea for you. to give an idea, just picture an abandoned island in the hebrides (or anywhere) with derelict little structures, remnants of long-ago human occupation, challenging landscapes and nothing but gulls and scrubby flora in terms of native life, and a vague sense of dread. this really doesn’t have to have anything to do with the game at all unless you want it to but i was thinking of throwing maybe a married couple on the rocks or a pair of old flames or even some people who don’t even know each other at all together. maybe they’ve come to spread the ashes of a loved one who wanted to be put to rest there, maybe they’ve inherited something on the island, maybe they’ve uncovered a series of mysterious letters or dredged up some secret to do with the island—whatever we want. we can definitely throw in supernatural elements or at the very least perilous elements (maybe the island isn’t really abandoned; maybe there’s a deadly storm moving in, etc.). i’m kind of thinking that the focus will be more on the relationship than the external dangers, however. if we go with some kind of pre-existing relationship, maybe they end up talking about what went wrong or coming to terms with some shared trauma or whatever we decide. if they’re strangers, finding out what individually brought them here and maybe finding some common thread in their lives that ultimately led them to being together, all set against a really rugged, super isolated backdrop. we can definitely find ways to double for this, either by having two pairs on the island or even having one pair from the past and one pair in the present. i’m down for anything! and like i said, you definitely don’t need to be familiar with the game, it’s just what made me want something like this!

in the continuing theme of me playing video games and getting emotional about them, something like firewatch could be cool? obviously the solely conversing over radio part could be difficult, but basically if you aren’t familiar with the game or the premise, just envision an enormous national park in the rockies or elsewhere, almost complete isolation except for a few other scattered campers and hikers, potentially no access to cellphones or wifi (either bc we set it pre-cellphones and wifi or because they’re just unusable), and imminent danger. we could have two park rangers or two firewatchers or two hikers or any combination thereof who end up spending a stretch of time in this beautiful setting and end up in some kind of danger (fire/wildlife/other campers/etc.). basically this is the same as my first idea but set in a national park and i don’t want to take flack for it.

finally, and this is actually not based on a video game, but i'm just super super into the 70s and 80s right now and kind of craving some kind of campus drama? sort of the secret history meets... idk... how to get away with murder and... the 70s. it's not my best premise, tbh. i really really hate using teenagers as protags, so ideally these would be either grad students and young profs or older undergrads.

for a more general idea of what to roleplay, i’m a little stuck. i’m not good at making those lists of keywords to pick and choose from, partially because i’m bad at remembering things on the spot and end up forgetting most of what i like, and partially because i always end up with something so vague that i get very left field suggestions that are completely out of my range of interests but it’s not the person’s fault because it relates to one of the words i mentioned just not in a way that i would like to see it manifest. so if you’re not specifically interested in the ideas i listed but have some adjacent ideas or you think they sound kinda like an idea you have i’m definitely willing to give a listen! basically, like i said at the start, i like character-driven stories with cool settings that focus on and explore relationships. i like historical settings of all kinds up to the late 20th century and i’m a big fan of romance (and tragedy).

to give a very general idea of the sorts of things i’m not into, i don’t do anything futuristic, cyber/steam/any kind of punk, most post-apocalyptic settings, neighbourhood/college/apartment/coffee shop type roleplays, high fantasy, sub/dom or slave/master type relationships, roleplays with teens or children as main characters, big age gaps, pwp, and yeah.

if you’ve come all this way and still want to get in touch, my email is hnrywinter@gmail.com. if you wanna drop your discord tag in your email i can add you there as well! if in your email you could just tell me what i can call you and generally what you’d like to rp that would be awesome!

thanks! xx

[fyrapartnersearch]

[ * DEAR ESTHER ] ORIGINAL ONE V ONE

hello hello!

i'm niamh, i'm 26, and i am looking for new partners!

i'm just going to write a confusing blurb about myself and my preferences so you can get an idea of how i roleplay and whether we'll be compatible!

my foremost goal is for both of us to get some kind of fulfilment and enjoyment out of this thing we're embarking on. i'm a very laid back partner and pretty much all i want is dynamic characters in interesting settings with complex relationships.

i'm very into doubling (though i don't require it!). if we're doubling i'll play whatever gender in whatever pairing my partner wants and hope that you are willing to do the same for me, my preference being to play f in m/f (so if you exclusively do m/m or f/f or nb or you don't play male we probably won't be compatible).

i use gdocs, email, and discord to rp and prefer to ooc over discord but email is fine as well! i don't have any other messengers.

i'm super ditch friendly. i'm not gonna hunt you down or anything if you go AWOL and if you want to pick up later just let me know!

my limits are very basic. no kink/fetish-driven roleplays, nothing obscene involving minors, etc. i'm not someone who really enjoys writing gratuitous smut so if you're hoping for a lot of that you'll probably be somewhat disappointed.

i do require that my partners be 20 or older. i'm wallowing in the second half of my 20s so it's just more comfortable for me if we're in the same general age group!

if we use faceclaims, i only use real people. feel free to request an fc if you have one in mind!

now for the difficult part: articulating what i want to roleplay.

i don't have a lot of ideas and the ones i have are pretty big and general so i'll try to sketch them out in a semi-coherent way!

the first one is probably not going to be that surprising if you're familiar with the video game i threw into my thread title. i recently played dear esther and i'm still reeling. this would obviously be impossible or at least very difficult to straight up roleplay but if you have any familiarity with the game or are just a fan of super isolated, moody, slightly spooky settings then this might be an idea for you. to give an idea, just picture an abandoned island in the hebrides (or anywhere) with derelict little structures, remnants of long-ago human occupation, challenging landscapes and nothing but gulls and scrubby flora in terms of native life, and a vague sense of dread. this really doesn't have to have anything to do with the game at all unless you want it to but i was thinking of throwing maybe a married couple on the rocks or a pair of old flames or even some people who don't even know each other at all together. maybe they've come to spread the ashes of a loved one who wanted to be put to rest there, maybe they've inherited something on the island, maybe they've uncovered a series of mysterious letters or dredged up some secret to do with the island—whatever we want. we can definitely throw in supernatural elements or at the very least perilous elements (maybe the island isn't really abandoned; maybe there's a deadly storm moving in, etc.). i'm kind of thinking that the focus will be more on the relationship than the external dangers, however. if we go with some kind of pre-existing relationship, maybe they end up talking about what went wrong or coming to terms with some shared trauma or whatever we decide. if they're strangers, finding out what individually brought them here and maybe finding some common thread in their lives that ultimately led them to being together, all set against a really rugged, super isolated backdrop. we can definitely find ways to double for this, either by having two pairs on the island or even having one pair from the past and one pair in the present. i'm down for anything! and like i said, you definitely don't need to be familiar with the game, it's just what made me want something like this!

second, in the continuing theme of me playing video games and getting emotional about them, something like firewatch could be cool? obviously the solely conversing over radio part could be difficult, but basically if you aren't familiar with the game or the premise, just envision an enormous national park in the rockies or elsewhere, almost complete isolation except for a few other scattered campers and hikers, potentially no access to cellphones or wifi (either bc we set it pre-cellphones and wifi or because they're just unusable), and imminent danger. we could have two park rangers or two firewatchers or two hikers or any combination thereof who end up spending a stretch of time in this beautiful setting and end up in some kind of danger (fire/wildlife/other campers/etc.). basically this is the same as my first idea but set in a national park and i don't want to take flack for it.

third, and in the continuing theme of isolating people and putting them in danger, i'm kind of craving something set in a super remote town that's just... spooky? like an unspeakable kind of spookiness that takes no form and has no name but gives the whole town an overwhelming aura of creep? weird things happen and people just accept it and maybe we have some new residents who aren't so complacent with this nightvale-esque stuff or some longtime residents who are fed up or someone who grew up there and moved away and has to come back for some reason and wants to finally figure out why they had such a messed up childhood? this could literally take place anywhere in the world, past or present. this is possibly the most vague of my ideas so help me out.

for a more general idea of what to roleplay, i'm a little stuck. i'm not good at making those lists of keywords to pick and choose from, partially because i'm bad at remembering things on the spot and end up forgetting most of what i like, and partially because i always end up with something so vague that i get very left field suggestions that are completely out of my range of interests but it's not the person's fault because it relates to one of the words i mentioned just not in a way that i would like to see it manifest. so if you're not specifically interested in the ideas i listed but have some adjacent ideas or you think they sound kinda like an idea you have i'm definitely willing to give a listen! basically, like i said at the start, i like character-driven stories with cool settings that focus on and explore relationships. i like historical settings of all kinds up to the late 20th century and i'm a big fan of romance (and tragedy). 

to give a very general idea of the sorts of things i'm not into, i don't do anything futuristic, cyber/steam/any kind of punk, most post-apocalyptic settings, neighbourhood/college/apartment/coffee shop type roleplays, high fantasy, sub/dom or slave/master type relationships, roleplays with teens or children as main characters, big age gaps, pwp, and yeah.

if you've come all this way and still want to get in touch, my email is hnrywinter@gmail.com. if you wanna drop your discord tag in your email i can add you there as well! if in your email you could just tell me what i can call you and generally what you'd like to rp that would be awesome!

thanks! xx