#and i forget to mark them on the map too so i EXTRA forget. if possible

[tortilla-of-courage]

i'm SO sorry to every korok i've abandoned while playing totk

[reveluving]

anything and everything ; paddy feld x reader x max

summary: it’s them and their girl against the fucking world.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), Max & Paddy in general (if you've seen the movies, you know how they are. but! they're pretty tame here), minor character death (deserved; horrible ex + cheating but it's okay, you win in the end) including minor mentions of blood & breaking bones type of violence, Paddy & Max would do anything for you.

a/n: ta-da!! you don't know how excited I was to write this. had to rewrite a few things but I was too into the idea, I didn't mind kdlsajk and mind you, it's EXTRA nasty in this one, so, keep that in mind! please enjoy, take care & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! 🕷️'!

» smut includes: mildly DARK fic! mm4f, size kink, lovestruck & possessive (slightly mean) doms!paddy & max, shy-esque mc, ‘baby’ & ‘pretty girl’ as petnames, dirty talking, facesitting/oral s~ex (both f & m receiving, clothed(?) too), spit & tit play, marking, spanking, brief mentions of blood play (doesn’t happen), brief mentions of age gap (legal & consenting!!), teasing & mentions of punishment, did I mention possessive paddy & max yet?

'And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.' ;

Paddy’s fingers thrummed along the shape of the steering wheel, subtly displaying his excitement even at such an hour. The music coming from the radio was partially his saving grace from the fairly long drive but the anticipation of what was to come expelled any form of restlessness in his body.

The road he took practically didn’t exist on the map, but he had no problem navigating his destination the deeper he went into the woods, not when he had taken the route many times for the past couple of months for this very moment.

Slowly yet surely, he spotted a familiar car, the headlights remaining on were enough for Paddy to see a man overlooking something before him. He knew his landlord long enough to recognize the large, taller frame in the distance. He spotted the bundle of clothes by his feet, along with the rocks of different sizes next to it, and Paddy knew he had begun.

Good thing, too, for it was mere hours before your alarm would go off, and they wanted to be by your side as soon as you opened your pretty eyes.

Without wasting any time, Paddy turned the engine of his car off before exiting the vehicle, sauntering over to his good friend—your other partner—and standing next to him.

“Took you long enough.” Max scoffed, though largely jesting to get under Paddy’s skin.

“She slept later than usual.” Paddy explained, one corner of his lips quirking at the memory of mere hours ago, of him snuggling you against him, lulling you to sleep with kisses and pats before quietly leaving the unit once he was confident you were truly out like a light.

“She couldn’t sleep?” Max glanced at his friend, a hint of worry in his rich voice, to which Paddy shook his head.

“She’s just excited for tomorrow.”

Ah, Halloween.

Max hummed in understanding, then cut the conversation, or at least, the subject short. As much as he’d love to ask how you were doing, he and Paddy had business to take care of, and the ‘business’ in question stood right in the trench before them.

Chad, or really, they’d just prefer to call him ‘your ex’, stood naked in the ditch, shivering and battered from Max’s need to pour his frustration out on him an hour prior—remembering all the stories you’d tell them of how he had the gall to swoop in and take you from them, even if you weren’t theirs yet. 

It was one thing to steal you from them, but it was another to treat you like you were worth less than cheap dirt. Manipulating you into thinking his mistreatments were just you ‘being a big baby’ or accusing you of how ‘possessive’ you were when he would ‘just casually talk’ to other women when you found the bravery to break up with him a year ago.

But were they really surprised by a pompous man, no, boy, with dodgy secrets? Spending his old money on pointless luxuries and meeting up with low lives behind his old girlfriends’ backs, including yours. It was a good thing you were out of the relationship earlier than his previous exes, but fuck, if Paddy and Max didn’t want to gouge his eyes out for even mistreating you in the first place. 

They could never forget the tears in your eyes and on your cheek when you stopped by, reassuring them with a wobbly smile that you had ended the relationship, but not without seeing the man’s true colours by berating you for leaving him.

But that was in the past. The months that came after were nothing but bliss, for you and them. You didn’t think Paddy nor Max were open to the idea—the three of you—but you were proven wrong. You should’ve expected it, though, with how Paddy and Max were more or less alike, including but not limited to their ‘innocent’ flirting with you before it all went down.

But it wasn’t just the relationship that had them in high spirits.

It wasn’t hard to find his information online—the sucker was as terrible as an ‘influencer’ nowadays, and it was even easier to air his secrets out, destroying relationships including with his own family and even transferring most of his savings to shelters because why the hell not. 

At one point, Max couldn’t resist taking a video of the poor guy borderline begging the lady he cheated with when you were still together at their usual meeting spot at a bar.

He and Paddy had the time of their lives watching the embarrassing scene, even anonymously sharing it on his hacked account before days later, Paddy tampered with the same woman’s drink enough for her to overdose and successfully framed your ex ‘as revenge for public humiliation’. 

Yes, the past few months were priceless, to say the least.

But they never spent the whole time ruining the man’s life all the time, no, they had a beloved to take care of. The time to ruin lives could come whenever they pleased, but not precious moments with you.

Besides, wasn’t it more entertaining to drag out one’s victim’s despair just a little longer? The reactions to their downfall mattered, after all.

And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.

“Doesn't look like he's got a lot of fight in ‘em.” Paddy snorted.

“Good.” Max replied, short but well-pleased.

“Hey, man…” Chad croaked, and Max and Paddy immediately grimaced, “I didn't think she meant that much to you…. Honest…”

The two rolled their eyes in annoyance.

“At least think of a better lie, kid,” Max sighed, “‘s'not like we'd let you go if you did.”

Paddy huffed, amused at the truth in his words. If anything, they'd be doing the world a favour, removing a little parasite—yours, theirs, his ‘friends’ and exes, and hell, even his family—all while getting to call you theirs.

But, it was satisfying to see the pathetic sod being, well, pathetic. A way better look on him than the infuriatingly cocky façade he'd put up around others for whatever the hell he was leering for then.

“I’m not..! I–C'mon, I didn't even lay a hand on her–” Chad reasoned weakly, only to further set them off.

“You better pray you fucking didn't.” Paddy snarled. He and Max knew he didn't, but it didn't ease their anger any less because, at the end of the day, he still manipulated you in some way, using a few tricks to make you seem like you were the ‘overthinking’ one even if it didn't entirely work. 

At the end of the day, he did you harm.

“Alright, y'got anything else to say, kid?” Max leaned his weight on one leg, adjusting the black gloves he had been wearing since he dragged the guy in the middle of nowhere. Paddy, too, put on his gloves as he turned around, all while eyeing the rocks.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Chad spoke in urgency, his teeth chattering from the chilly air, “I can pay up! I won’t tell anybody shit about this–”

“No, you won’t,” Max agreed as he interjected, honestly not wanting to listen to him anymore, “Not especially her name out of your mouth.”

Against his better judgement, Chad had the gall to shout at the mere mention of you.

“Her?” He yelled, his annoyance picking back when Max brought your name up multiple times during this whole thing, “Why the fuck does she matter to you that much anywa–” 

Crunch.

Chad's head whipped to the side as the sizable rock Paddy threw landed at his temple, the sound horrific but satisfying to the two.

“Easy,” Max drawled, swiftly picking up a rock and inspecting it, “No fun in killing him already.” 

“You wanna listen to him talk ‘bout her like that?” Paddy grunted, chest rising and falling at the audacity of a man who was on the brink of death.

“Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm pissed,” Max replied coolly, hiding his temper behind nonchalance. He felt the weight of the rock he held before eyeing Chad with a dangerous look, “But the head? Pat, come on, we made it this far. Play around with him a little.” 

Paddy didn't have the time to reply as Max held the rock above him before throwing it, aiming right at Chad's leg with almost the same, if not, a nastier sound of impact than when Paddy threw it. 

Chad yowled, falling to the ground before groaning in sheer pain. He could only sob on the ground, specks of dirt already in his eyes and mouth.

“See?” Max smiled cruelly, “Make him feel it, just like she had to.”

Just speaking of it riled him up just as it did to Paddy. They wanted to finally, finally get it rid of him, sure, but there was no harm in having fun with it just a little longer. They'd clean up the mess anyway, might as well say their final goodbyes to the son of a bitch for good.

“Yeah… Yeah, alright.” Paddy mirrored his friend's cold-blooded contentment, picking up another rock, this time, hoping to break any parts of his bones without instantly killing him just yet.

And just like that, Chad wished for his ultimate death as they prolonged his torture.

You, back in Paddy’s unit, were none the wiser, slowly waking up from your deep sleep. You turned, anticipating Paddy upon opening your bleary eyes, only to blink at the sight of Max, watching you with a warm smile as he lay on his side.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted, bringing his hand to your face and caressing your cheek.

“G'morning…” You murmured with a shy smile, hiding one side of your face in the pillow.

“Oh, no, don't do that now,” Max chuckled, “Don't hide that pretty face from me.”

Even half asleep, he could make you giggle first thing in the morning.

“How'd you sleep?” He asked, his voice almost enough to lull you back to sleep.

“Good,” You responded, unaware of their little escapade hours ago. You yawned, “You?”

“Like a baby,” He grinned, causing your heart to flutter. In reality, he hadn't had a wink of sleep since he and Paddy drove back home, but the adrenaline of putting the bastard down gave him more than enough energy to see you, “Come here.”

Max gently led you to his lap, encouraging you to straddle his hips while resting your head on his chest, “Atta girl.”

You couldn't resist relaxing in his arms, not when he was so warm and comfortable, and he didn't want you to do so either, kissing the crown of your head while his hands slid up and down your sides.

But you knew Max long enough to know his touches didn't always stay innocent as his hands roamed lower and lower and lower before reaching the hem of your nightdress.

You eyed him suspiciously, “Max…”

He just hummed, leaning in to kiss your temple and cheek, “That's me.” 

You huffed at his wits, only for your eyes to flutter shut as his hands roamed under the fabric, “Max, c'mon, I just woke up…”

You were a little worried about your morning breath and how you looked from just waking up, but he was having none of it.

“Can't hear you.” He drawled lowly against your skin, pulling you closer so he could latch his lips onto your neck. You jolted at the feeling of Max's palms gripping and kneading your ass, your body only growing tauter when a third hand slid up the curve of your back.

“Starting without me, pretty girl?” Paddy cooed, leaning in to kiss your cheek, the other side that Max hadn't touched yet.

“Paddy…” You whimpered, and as soon as you turned your head to look at him, briefly noticing he was shirtless, he slotted his lips against yours, the fingers of his other hand brushing along your neck before descending to your clothed breasts.

The haziness in your mind grew more than when you woke up, feeling pairs of lips and hands mark your body with vigour.

Max sat up, forcing you and Paddy to break the kiss as he slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

Paddy took a seat on the edge of the mattress, kissing your shoulder from behind, feeling his spine-chilling groans reverberating against your back. 

And with two sick minds thinking alike, images of you covered in your ex’s blood in between them fueled their uncontrollable desires. Too bad every last drop of it had to be drained for obvious reasons. But it wouldn't hurt to imagine what could've been every once in a while. 

So long the deed was done. 

Good riddance, bitch.

Paddy pulled at your tits between his fingers, the same time Max nipped at the space between your neck and shoulder, leaving the barest hint of mark that begged to be darker. 

More long-lasting, prominent for the world to see.

“How ‘bout it, baby? Think you can for a quick round before we let you go?” Max asked. They could've convinced you to stay in bed longer if not for the candies you had promised to buy before the last minute in the afternoon for trick-or-treaters tonight.

“We'll take good care of you.” Paddy added, as they always did.

You pleaded with the two with a look that was to die for and it wouldn't take long for them to act upon your request, leaving you in your pretty undies, almost tearing off your sleepwear when they removed the pesky article.

Max was eager to lay on his back, encouraging you to move back a little and position your ass just above his face, making you face Paddy, whose pants were off, teasing you by fondling his prominent tent with a smug smile.

You weren't sure whether to focus on him or Max’s cock standing tall each time you looked down, awaiting your soft lips and its careful licks.

You jumped at Max’s playful slaps and massages of your ass, prompting Paddy to coo as he neared until his shins touched the bed.

“Playin’ a lil’ rough, isn’t he, baby?” He cradled your jaw, almost condescendingly mimicking your parted lips as Max licked you through the flimsy panties. He gently led your head by the chin to his bulge and sighed in contentment, “Yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“My good girl.” Max grunted, biting his lips upon moving your panties to the side before licking a big stripe along your pussylips like a man starved, even more so when he couldn’t help but spank you three more consecutive times, downright suffocating himself when trapped your thighs around his head.

“Max…” You cried into Paddy’s tented pants, nuzzling him like it would calm Max down, but they couldn’t blame you, knowing your mind was already mush. 

You could already imagine the familiar beard burns decorating your inner thighs.

Paddy pouted, “Baby, ‘m’feeling a lil’ lonely,” Brushing your bottom lip with his thumb, he stared at your through lidded eyes, “You know what t’do, yeah?”

You did, you always did.

Keeping your eyes on him, you mouthed along the girth of him, leaving little trails of drool because ‘there is nothing sexier than our sweet girl making a mess out of them’. Their words, not yours.

Giving a low growl, he slid his sweatpants down for you, “That’s it.”

He didn’t bother putting on boxers, already anticipating such ‘morning routine’ if he and Max were going to make it until the evening before they could get their hands on you again.

Of course, that didn’t mean they’d play nice behind closed doors when the trick-or-treaters weren’t around.

His pants dropped to the floor with a soft thud, his hard cock ached for you if the subtle twitches were anything to go by.

But Max, still eating you out and practically leaving marks on your behind, shoved his tongue into you just a tad deeper, reminding you that he, too, needed you.

You could only let a little glob of drool drip onto Max’s cock, then slowly wrapped your fingers around it before sliding your hand down to the base. Paddy clenched his jaw, greedy for the same treatment when Max bucked into your hand. He loosened just a tad bit when you finally leaned in, taking a small, cautious lick at the tip of him.

Somehow, somehow, Max knew your teasing behaviour and brought his palm down on your already sensitive rear. You weren’t sure how he wasn’t begging for air at this point the more your thighs tightened around him—if only you knew how much he wouldn’t mind dying that way.

Paddy tutted in disapproval, gently tapping his cock on your cheek, “Not very nice of you.”

“Think she deserves a little punishment?” Max spoke against your cunt, spreading your cheeks and downright spitting at your hole.

“I’m sure she can handle a few,” Paddy responded, eyes rolling back when you moaned around him the more he pushed himself into your mouth. He continued through gritted teeth, “And then, we’ll give her everything. Just like she deserves.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: this was initially a standalone fic for Max but then I was like mmm OMG what about with Max and Negan but then... I also wanted to write for Paddy, so... yeah ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[ultrone]

I’m up late so here are some HC’s I have of the girlies

Nat:

- You get her one of those “back off, I love my gf” shirts as a joke, expecting her to never put it on and she wears it RELIGIOUSLY. She is so proud to wear that shit

- (If you’re lucky enough to have a positive male figure, a grandfather or father in your life) one time overhears Nat talking about her home life and now that male figure is determined to make her feel safe and happy. He’ll insist that you both join him for fishing and while you’re apprehensive, Nat is 100% down.

-She never has water or lunch because she forgets/chooses to not take care of herself so you drop it off to her at practice everyday

- She sleeps with a stuffed animal but will not let ANYONE know

Shauna:

- Early riser, even when sleeping w you but she will just happily lay next to you, holding your hand, admiring you while you sleep just taking you in for a few extra moments.

- she has a scrapbook of everything you guys have done (movie tickets, Polaroids, etc), and she also keeps all the flowers you’ve ever gotten her in there after they’ve dried and withered

- She loves stargazing, she knows astronomy and can and will point out the constellations to you

- Reading to or with each other is common and probably a love language, especially reading the other to sleep

Lottie:

- Surprisingly very good at all the fine arts; she can draw well, she definitely can play the piano bc her rich parents paid for her to have lessons, etc

- Blanket stealer; she insists on having the AC CRANKED at night, then steals the blankets while you both are sleeping and you wake up with hypothermia while she’s snuggled up in all your blankets

- She wasn’t allowed to have a pet so you buy her a single goldfish once and she loves it so much, she let you name it (you named it something stupid but she still calls it what you want) it dies in like 2 days because as intelligent as she is she is incapable of taking care of another living thing and she is inconsolable for days. You got her a succulent to make her feel better

Jackie:

- Clingy (derogatory) sure it’s cute of her at first until she’s waking up at 5 am for her morning practices and wakes you up too so you both can “brush your teeth together”

- She will always ask for your old marked up books to read and she makes small notes in the margins in a different color before giving them back (She has reading glasses too, and she looks gorgeous in them)

- She asks you to help her stretch, or roll out her muscles before practice but she doesn’t need help she just wants to get you flustered and have your hands all over her

I LOVE THEM 🤭

nat would wear that shirt 24/7 istg 😭 especially as her pjs, and omg i love the idea of your male parental figure inviting nat to everything as well 🥹 even if it’s just something simple like going out for brunch, it’d make her feel way better and more welcomed. and her forgetting to bring lunch everyday is SO REAL 😭 then she’ll prolly buy a bag of chips and a soda as her first meal of the day and then complain about having a stomach ache 🙄 GIRL… also for sure, i bet her plushy is a little white bunny with long ears that was given to her as a toddler.

shauna has always given me the vibe that she wakes up at 9am idk but yeah she’d def just lay there looking at you 😭😭 and the scrapbook thing is SO TRUE, i bet she also adds entries of everything you do together 🫣 since she loves stargazing you got her one of those custom star maps of your anniversary day and she LOVED IT 🥹 and she for sure loves reading to you and hearing you read her favourite books to her

i def see lottie being good at drawing and playing the piano 😌 i also bet she’s especially good at painting landscapes and stuff like that. whenever u complain about her taking the blankets, she’ll just tell you to snuggle up to her to get warmer instead of actually sharing her blanket with you 🙄🙄 but if you’re the one stealing the blankets she’ll pout and whine for hours until you share them with her… the AUDACITY 😒 my girl came back from school on a random day and realized the goldfish wasn’t there anymore, she got concerned and asked the domestic helper what had happened, and she told her that the fish died like two weeks ago ☠️☠️ when i tell u lottie was SHOCKED… she was so embarrassed that she told you that it got a weird disease and died from natural causes LMFAOO

jackie waking you up so you can brush your teeth together is so real 😭😭 my girl doesn’t get the concept of having “alone time.” i just know it takes jackie an hour to read 3 pages, i bet she spends half of that time drawing silly little doodles all over the margins ☠️ and for sure, she also asks u to rub sunscreen on her body even though she could do it herself, she just wants to feel your touch 🫣

[scaryscarecrows]

Komodo Protocol

“You seen what they got going on in Demolitions?” Frank asks around his bacon. “Somethin’ real nasty, looks like.”

“No, I’ve been stuck on ‘light duty’ all week.” Antoine rolls his eyes. “You get one bug and everyone’s on your ass.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have tried breaking out of Medical all those times.”

“Shouldn’t have passed out mid-meeting, either.” Jimmy cackles. “Dude, if you died, we’d be fucked. Riley’s an enabler.”

“Clyde would take over,” the Knight says dryly. Jimmy squeaks. “Meeting at nine hundred.”

Meeting, not assembly. Something’s come up, then, because they had their weekly briefing two days ago. There hadn’t been anything of note at the time; next shipment of drones to Gotham, more than anything. Antoine’s pretty sure it was largely an excuse to hide from Deathstroke, who had left that afternoon anyway.

“Yessir.”

Once he’s gone, Jimmy leans in.

“So? What do you think’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s on schedule, and I haven’t seen anything weird come up.”

“Think something’s up in Gotham?”

“Maybe.” He finishes his coffee and tries–and fails miserably–at repressing a cough. “I’m fine, coughs linger, that’s not illegal!”

Mark frowns.

“That sounded ugly.”

“That’s what coughs do.” He’s not whining. He’s not. “Leave me alone, I’m better now.”

“I want you in my office after this meeting. Just for a quick check-up.”

“Oh, come on–”

“Forget, and I’ll come find you.”

Ugh. Fine. He’ll go. But he’s not going to like it.

* * *

“What is that?”

“Insurance.”

Okay. Insurance is always good. This, however, appears to be a bigass mine. Three feet in diameter, easy, and well-armored. Could probably withstand a Cobra drone rolling over it.

“Uh-huh,” Frank drawls. “For what.”

“It’s primarily to keep the military from getting involved.”

Antoine’s got news for him: the military, generally, considers Gotham as ‘fend for your fucking selves’ and probably would just pretend they didn’t see anything anyway. But sure. A little extra reassurance is nice.

“Also to keep anyone–or anything–else from stepping in.” Okay, that one’s fair. “It won’t hurt you if you walk on it; the sensors need more weight to activate the electricity.” Oh, it’s electric, too? Wonderful. “We’ll be deploying them pretty early in the night, once the drones have all been deployed.”

“They won’t fuck with the programming, will they?” Jimmy risks poking the thing. “It’s not like an EMP or whatever?”

“It shouldn’t, but I want you, when you map out the patrol route, to try not to run over them. I’ll give you a map of where I want them sometime next week.”

“How many are there?”

“Fourteen.”

Trent whistles.

“Jesus.”

“Gotham’s a big place.” The Knight shrugs. “We’re not shipping these over ahead of us; they go when we do. Clyde, I’m going to be making a special dummy; same sensors, I want to run some tests with the Cloudburst tank. If it comes to that, I’d really rather not blow this entire operation…literally.”

“Very funny, sir,” Frank says dryly. “I’ll make sure she’s ready to roll when you are.”

“Good. You five are dismissed. Drouot, you’re not.”

That doesn’t sound promising.

The others file out, though, leaving Antoine with the boss and a giant, scary-looking mine.

“These are also a contingency.”

And there it is. The boss has contingencies for his contingencies, which is, Antoine guesses, why they’re all still on this crazy crusade.

“Okay?” The Knight holds out a piece of paper with numbers on it. Antoine raises an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“The activation code to set these all off at once. In the event that I somehow end up incapacitated, unless I explicitly told you otherwise, I want you to initiate the Komodo Protocol: order a retreat and blow Gotham off the map.”

“Sounds like overkill.”

“When dealing with Batman, there is no such thing as overkill.”

“If you say so, sir.” Such an innocuous little paper. Ten digits. Ten digits and boom, one of the largest cities in the world turned into a charred crater. “Does Scarecrow know about this?”

“No, and we’re not mentioning it. If that code needs to be used, he doesn’t need to be informed.”

Well, in all honesty, Scarecrow is the one most likely to trigger this event. Antoine has never trusted the guy. He’s convinced that, Batman be damned, if he saw a chance to poison them all, he’d take it.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that, sir.”

“Hopefully not.” The Knight looks at the mine. “But I’d rather be prepared.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, boss?”

The boss just laughs.

“Probably not. Look, it’s like the bomb vests. I highly, highly doubt we’ll need it.”

Yeah…the bomb vests have not been mentioned to the troops at large. Voluntary or not, most people are not going to like the idea of a suicide vest being anywhere near them. If it comes down to that, then they’ll worry about it.

“If you say so, sir.” He looks from the paper to the mine again. “Did you need anything else?”

“No. You can go; I think Jones wanted to see you.”

Dammit.

* * *

“I’m sure that by now most of you have become aware of the events at Arkham Asylum.”

Antoine’s voice is hoarse, going in and out a little. He hasn’t slept, not really. Sure, Mark got a power nap out of him, but that’s about it and it wasn’t enough. He looks like shit, too, all washed out and with eye bags big enough to take on a cruise. That’ll happen, when you spend too much time in a chair.

“Batman do that, sir?”

“Yes and no. Before I continue, I want it clear: Batman is now considered a level five threat.”

“We can take him. Right, boys?” A cheer goes up. “Just tell us where he is, we’ll bring his head back in two hours.” 

Ha. Trent disagrees. Bastard’s got clown morals with Bat-bullshit, if he’s still alive–and he probably is–‘taking him’ is going to be a real bitch. It’s doable, probably, it’s just going to be difficult, especially with their best resource on both Batman and Joker being at death’s door.

Antoine’s smile is wintery and the cheer dies down, gives way to an uneasy silence. Trent can’t blame them for that. He’s usually the nice one. Nice is relative, but still.

“What you’ll be up against isn’t Batman anymore,” he says. “Now, I’m sure you all attended the briefing regarding the Joker’s death of TITAN poisoning.” Pfft. Trent knows damn well they didn’t, but that’ll keep them from jabbering. “Before that incident, the Joker supplied hospitals with tainted blood, and apparently gave Batman a transfusion as well. The cure didn’t take.” 

He turns to his laptop and taps a few keys. On screen, the footage Jimmy managed to get from the boss’s helmet earlier on Halloween looms large. Trent shudders. He’s seen some shit in his day, but that–a laughing, maniacal Batman attacking with full intent to kill–is in the running for his personal Top Five WTF. Thankfully, Antoine only lets it play for a few seconds, but those few seconds are enough to quiet the skeptical mutterings.

“That’s what you’re up against now. He will kill you, without a second thought. He has already killed Scarecrow–”

“Shit, we work for Richardson now?”

“No. The Arkham Knight dispatched her before the asylum blew up.”

At least that one stuck. Last thing they need is that vindictive little monster blaming them for what happened to Scarecrow.

“For the moment, we are going to continue as we were. I want drones sweeping the city, checkpoints manned, and watchtowers fully operational. If anybody sees anything, you call in immediately and you wait for backup. Don’t be a hero, your insurance does not cover facial removal.” There’s a smattering of nervous chuckles that Antoine does not join in. “Patrols: minimum of four, do not let each other out of your sight. Someone has to piss, you all go. Someone falls in one of those damn potholes and breaks an ankle, you all come back to base as a group. Understood?”

“Yessir.”

“Good. Any questions?” If they have any, they don’t ask them. Antoine closes his laptop, disconnects it, and turns on his heel. “Dismissed.”

Trent steps in fully as they file out. A few of them flinch, but most of them just keep moving.

“You look like shit,” he says bluntly. “Mark’s right, you need sleep.”

“I’m fine. Anything?”

“Couple of false alarms.”

“So no.”

“No.”

“Damn.” Antoine runs a hand through his hair. “Any change with the boss?”

“Still out. Look…what are we going to do, if he…doesn’t…wake up? Batman’s Gotham’s problem, right?”

Antoine just laughs, a little bitter, and starts towards the door.

“He only got maybe a quarter of the mines. We pull our men out and blow this city to Kingdom Come, see him walk that off.”

“What?”

“Komodo Protocol.” 

Trent’s heard of it. Well, seen it, in packets, but there’s never been any information about it. It’s just come up as, like, the last resort, no specifications.

“That’s what that is?” he demands. “Detonate the mines?”

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“Jesus Christ, man–”

“My orders are to put the bastard down, whatever it takes.” Antoine turns towards the back hallway. “Check in with the Arkham troops again, make sure they don’t need any further supplies. Did you send them a Cobra?”

“Yeah, earlier.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

“Antoine.”

“What.”

“You’re sure about this?”

Antoine stops and turns around, swaying a little at the sudden change of direction.

“Yeah. If he dies, or doesn’t start waking up in another day or two, I’m calling it. We’ll finish the job one way or the other.” Jesus. “This stays between us for now. It may not come to that and there’s no reason to unsettle everyone.”

Trent nods.

“All right. You sure you’re not gonna grab a nap?”

“I’m fine.”

Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Look, Frank or Mark will probably bring the hammer down soon and when they do, Trent will be right there to enforce Bedtime.

“I’m gonna take a squadron out there,” he says. “Me and Riley: we’re taking some of his guys to investigate the little Batcave thing that turned up this morning.”

“Good. Stay in touch; that lecture goes for everyone.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find the bastard.”

“Hope so.” Antoine turns back around and starts walking again. “Good luck.”

THE END

[blindbeta]

Hello! In the fantasy story I'm writing, one of the main characters is blind. He uses a cane to navigate - and he's also a magitech engineer, with a lot of leeway for personal projects. So without worrying about magic limitations and such, what do you feel would be fun ways to magically improve a cane's function that won't disrupt something else that's necessary for it? Anything you definitely don't want to see?

Enhancing Canes With Magic

One idea I have is to research the WeWalk cane. TheBlindLife has some videos on it here and here. The website can be found here. Maybe it could serve as inspiration.

In the videos, Sam from TheBlindLife demonstrates a Smart white cane that pairs with a smart phone. It has a bulky white handle with a speaker and light on it, but is otherwise similar to other folding canes. In the second video, Sam reveals WeWalk has partnered with Ambutech to improve the cane’s design and rolling marshmallow tip. Sam demonstrates using the cane, which vibrates when detecting obstacles. He demonstrates the accessible app that pairs with the cane to allow for navigation to listed nearby restaurants and public transportation using an accessible map, clock directions, and progress tracking. The cane has a speaker on it, which is sometimes hard to hear. It can be paired with headphones.

A good magically engineered cane should still locate obstacles, shorelines, and provide tactile feedback about the ground and objects with which the cane comes into contact. It should also act as an identifier for blind people, so that others know they can’t see and aren’t going to get out of the way. It should fold or not fold according to preference. It should offer vibration feedback, audio feedback, and be light enough to carry. TheBlindLife lists a con of the WeWalk, which is that it is heavy. I also think the handle is too bulky, the voice is too hard to hear, and the vibration alert for obstacles could get tiring and confusing. Keeping these in mind may help avoid similar issues in your fictional cane. A good cane should allow one to interact with obstacles, rather than avoid them.

As long as it does what it is supposed to do in our world, the cane can be magically improved in many different ways. Some ideas I have include:

1. Something that allows stickers to stay without falling off. I have posted about stickers on the blog before and how they are fine to add to a cane. However, the rounded surface of the cane makes it difficult to keep them on.

2. Canes that are instantly customizable in color and visual design would be fun.

3. Canes that have the option of lighting up in the dark (which the WeWalk cane has), both for extra visibility at night and possibly for flashlight purposes for those with residual vision. It should be customizable and easily controlled for those with light sensitivity and so those without light perception don’t accidentally leave it on all the time.

4. Cane tips that adapt to the environment and needs of the blind person. For example, according to the landscape, a blind person may carry different cane tips with them, such a Dakota disk, to navigate more easily. A cane tip that transforms with magic would make it easier on blind characters who don’t have, can’t afford, or forget extra cane tips when they go out.

5. Customizable vibration control would be useful for those who have joint pain or sensitivity to tactile sensations. While some vibration may be necessary, a magic cane that allows for customization in this area could be useful. It is certainly not something we have much chance to change in the real world.

6. A landmark tracker and finder could be useful for specific landmarks people want to remember. These are usually done through observation and route memorization, but it is also possible to make notes of landmarks someone wants to remember. I’m not sure how a land mark tracker would work and I’m thinking one would need a way to store individual routes, but it could be a fun idea for when one is just starting to learn a route or just learning cane skills. Or possibly someone with memory difficulties.

7. Detection for objects at head height or objects that are otherwise above ground. Unfortunately, canes can only detect objects near ground level. I’m not sure if the WeWalk can detect objects above the ground, but it would be nice for a magic to do so, perhaps using a different alert system. This might allow blind characters to avoid objects like tree branches, equipment out in the open, etc. This can also be somewhat accomplished with a Sunu Band, it would be nice to have a cane that serves this function as well.

As for what I don’t want in a magically enhanced cane, I feel that as long as it does what a cane is supposed to do, it’s good. I think most of the problems center around no cane at all or canes doubling as weapons. Or objects, such as umbrellas or swords, used as canes instead of actual canes. One thing I would advice against is creating canes that give sight or allow for any visual feedback the blind person wouldn’t otherwise have already. The person using the cane should still use adaptive techniques rather than having magic erase their blindness.

If anyone has any other suggestions of what they do and don’t want, feel free to share them.

This has been cross-posted on WordPress.

[mrs-monaghan]

Hello, you know i was actually just doing some thinking and i wonder why Tkkrs call Jkkrs delusional or Jokers. They are are so quick to call Jkkrs delusional when we are actually the only ones who have legitimate reason to suspect Jikook are more than friends.

. GCF’s: This was literally the thing that put Jikook ship on the map! B4 this not many pple saw Jikook as a thing! Many pple in the fandom actually thought Jk didn’t like Jimin. . Tokyo Trip: Jk didn’t only take Jimin to Japan for his birthday but also made a very beautiful video which Jimin wasn’t even aware of! He could have literally used any song but he chose to use “There 4 u” by Troye Sivan! And Jk paid for everything too for the trip! Also they were in a hotel room that had a glass separating the bathroom😏

.Jk only giving Jimin a gift .

.Members telling us Jk always goes to sleep in Jimin’s bed.

Watching the first snow together, matching clothes on Valentines day, Jk’s birthday messages/tweets to Jimin, Tae telling us on more than one occasion that Jk was with Jimin at ungodly hours of the night and Jk was stopping Jimin from coming to him(Tae). The only two members who happen to alway know each others hotel rooms even when the other members (including Tae) don’t know! Let’s not forget the fact that we all saw Jimin literally almost obsess over Jk, asking himself why he liked Jk so much!

.Rainy day story! Even the members teased about how romantic the story sounded (and again it seemed like the members were not even aware of this fight)

.MAMA 2018: That whole night was something else for Jikook! Even non shippers could see there was definitely something happening there! NOBODY looks at their bros/friend the way Jk looked at Jimin that night!

.Rosebowl: Till date, there is still huge debate on whether there was an earsuck moment or not, but either way, there was absolutely NOTHING platonic about that moment! Not the I Love u’s which they were clearly saying to each other, or the way Jk encompassed Jimin and gave him that little kiss on the side of his head! Whether u think there was an ear suck or not, that moment wasn’t platonic! Let’s not forget how Jimin only started crying when Jk started screaming "I Love You” without the “you guys”.

.Hickeygate: Now this is also another huge moment! Jk and Jm claimed it was a bite, but unless u are telling me Jm has some weird ass teeth, I don’t see how any of that looked like a bite mark! And if indeed it wasn’t a bite (as i suspect it wasn’t) do you know how long Jm’s lips would have had to be on Jk’s neck to leave that mark? So Jk just let Jm have his lips on his neck for that long and they are just bros?😒

Jk climbing a mountain and getting snow for Jm cuz he knows Jm loves snow! Now i know JK is super sweet to all his hyungs! I’ve seen him cook for Tae, cook for Hobi and he had done many sweet things for all his hyungs, but waking up, going to a mountain to get snow for someone cuz u know they love snow, now that is extra!

Making a huge pancake for JM cuz he had to do penalties! Let’s not also forget how they were always glued to each other in and outside of work and the staff even mentioned they had never seen them apart backstage! Let’s not forget the members asking them on more than one occasion if they are a couple, cuz they just kept doing couply things. Let’s not also forget how the members (especially Joon) act around them! RM is always on his feet when it comes to those two.

Them alway being with each other on important days! Eg, Valentines day, watching the first snow, Jimin flew from paris just to be with Jk for a few hours on his bday, JM was with Jk at 4am on his bday in 2020, JM doing his bday Live in Jk’s studio in 2021 and Jk getting him a cake with "you are my park filter" written on it, Jm going to see Jk on his bday in 2022, Jikook spotted together on white day 2022, Jikook being together on Chuseok, JM getting back to korea on valentines day 2018 and being spotted out with Jk and sungwon on feb 15 etc.

Jk going to Jimin’s room 3 times a day and at odd times like 1:50am, and let’s not forget that position we saw them in at Jhope’s JITB party last year, Jikook leaving PTD vegas last year together in the same car, after Jk slow danced with Tae and Sat on his laps at the concert (talk about fanservice)

Jk’s mom making seaweed soup for Jimin’s bday which Jk proudly told us about, Jimin saying what makes him happy is waking up and seeing Jk in the morning! Jikook sharing a car for the longest time! Let’s also not forget the fact that two of were are always there cheering and watchinv eo during their solo rehearsals! Also, the whole YOU ARE ME I AM YOU. Also, the fact that they are known as the Sun and moon duo and Jm has a moon tattoo and Jk has a sun tattoo🤔

Jk going Live for almost two hours to promote Jimin, something he has never done b4, let’s not forget how his eyes lit up everytime Jimin commented on his Lives! I could go on but I can’t remember everything!

So after all of these, why are Jikookers called delusional or Jokers when we have REAL reason to believe Jikook are more than friends? None of the things i’ ve listed above are theories! Everything is a fact! Things that have happened b4 our very eyes so we are we the delusional ones?

What do Taekookers have? Theories, eye contact, made up hangouts and hickeys, hangouts with friends, Jk calling V handsome, Jk and Tae breathing the same air, Jk and Tae standing close to eo, Jk and Tae knowing something about eo, lies lies lies and more lies! What REAL reason can they bring to show that they are not the delusional ones? Skinship, the same skinship that they do with everyone? I don’t get it! How are we the delusional ones when it’s been proven that Jk spends most of his nights with Jimin? If Taekook are a thing, when exactly do they have couple cuddle time when Jikook are almost always together at nights? Even now that we see alot of Jk and Tae hangouts, it is proven that they always go back to their own houses after hangouts! Even on white day when Taekook were both in Korea but Jimin was not, Jk went live for hours! So when exactly does he spend alone time with Tae? Cuz even when we see them, they are never alone! So why are Jkkrs the delusional ones? I don’t get it!

Now everyone is desperately trying to prove Jikook are not together or never were, or have broken up or ar distanced just because of lack of content and the fact that Tae and Jk have hungout a few times! How do their hangouts cancel Jikook? They hangout a few times with friends and go back to their respective homes, so how does that cancel Jikook? Jikook hangouts cancel Taekook because, why will Jk be together with JM at 4am on his bday instead if being with Tae? Why would Jk be spotted out on white day with Jm instead of Tae? Why are Jk and Jimin always together at night (all nighter friends) why does Jk go to Jimin’s room at 1:50 am to hangout when he should be cuddling his boyfriend Tae? Why is Jimin always trying to Kiss Tae’s boyfriend, we have never seen Tae try to do something like that with Jk, but we have seen Jimin try to kiss Jk several times! Why would he do that knowing that Jk and Tae are together? We have never seen Taekook do anything with eo they haven’t done with some other member at some point, but we have seen Jikook do alot to eo they haven’t done with anyone else! Jimin has never tried to kiss anyone else, Jk has never put his hand into anyone else’s shirt to touch their skin, Jk has never sucked anyone else’s ear, (atleast not the way he did it to Jimin) Jk has never been caught going into his hotel room with another member when they didn’t know there were cameras! Jk has never been caught standing in a dark corner with another member with hands touching and heads close together! Jk has looked at all members with heart eyes but he has never looked at any other member for the suspiciously long amounts of time he looks at Jimin sometimes, Jk has also never pretended to whisper to any other member just to touch faces ( and this didn’t happen just once)! So again i ask, why are Jikookers the delusional ones? When our moments do not need analysis cuz they are right there in your face or the members tell us themselves so why are we the Jokers?

The fact that the fandom is filled with so many Tkkrs will always baffle me! I mean if you are a tkkr because Tae and Jk are your biases and not because you ship them, i get that, but for all those die hard Tkkrs who continuously hate on Jimin, twist members words, call members liars, attack the company and call Jikook fanservice just to prove ur ship is real, I honestly don’t have words for you! Read this and tell me realistically who the delusional ones are!

Anon when u put it like that....

That's ALOT! And it's not even everything.

Its strange to me because atp it does seem like people ship tkk for the sake of it. U know what I mean? Like whats the point of fighting for something so hard without looking at all angles? All possibilities? Jimin is my fav i looked into all his ships. So if V is your fav look into all his ships too. Don't just decide- oh V is my bias so I wanna ship him and no one else. Fuck evidence, fuck logic, I'm doing this and I dont care. You go to YouTube and see what happens when u correct them. They say "who cares"

(And if u must ship V it would make more sense to do it with Jin. Not JK. Otherwise you will never stop complaining about it being one sided AND you will have content!)

So yes, they're the dillusional ones because they don't care. They just wanna ship for the sake of it.

What i wish is, if only they could stay in their lane and stop coming to our spaces. Just be dillusional over there. It would be so nice and lovely and peaceful and there would be no wars. Because jkkrs only fight with them because of the hate they give to Jimin and sometimes even JK. Coz they're insecure.

Anyway, I agree anon. Its a great question why we are the dillusional ones when we have mountains of evidence. Even this video by a none shipper gets it. Why is it that we have the most content?

Because Jikook are together all the damn time! If I were JK's partner I'd have serious issues with how much time he spends with Jimin. Fr fr

[findinghomes]

🥳I’ve been writing dnf for 6 months!!!!🥳

To celebrate, here’s a deleted scene from my soulmate au all of you, a verb in perfect view

-

George felt like he was doomed to repeat all of the lowest moments of his life.

It happened in London. Every day was the same—one thing after another. And he was treading water, barely keeping his head afloat. Every day was the same—waking up in a cold bed, falling asleep to a voice that felt more like a memory than something real.

Sometimes I hope that you’re my soulmate.

And now—

He was in Florida. Not London or California. Florida. And every memory was merging into one as his back hit the closed door of Dream’s bedroom, lips trailing lines and marks across his neck like they could transfer across skin.

And George felt like he was doomed to repeat all of the lowest moments of his life.

For one, it was raining, like London. It was louder here, hitting gutters and open fields, but in the darkness, George could almost trick himself.

For another, he was once more in Dream’s room, waiting on the promise of a shower, watching with shortening breath as Dream’s outline disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of water against tile rising to meet him.

And finally, and most damning, he now knew how it felt to steal Dream’s breath from his chest, to be the one who had to breathe for them both, burying himself into his home of rib and lung and cartilage. He knew. God, he knew how to love so destructively and whole-ly that it was world-ending.

And to know meant the possibility of forgetting.

Like how Dream forgot to pull the extra shampoo bottle they bought at Target from the hallway closet.

…

“You’re the worst,” George said as he stripped off his clothes, watching as the forgotten clumps of flour trickled from his shirt to the ground.

“I’m the worst?” Dream asked. “I didn’t start this.”

George turned, ready to argue but failing when he saw Dream already staring at him, only in his boxers. Realistically, George knew his hands had explored nearly every inch of Dream, but standing here, under the white lights of Dream’s bathroom, being faced with Dream was a completely different experience.

“What?” Dream asked, crossing his arms across his body.

George knew every step he took was just another white cloud of dust, but he didn’t care as he crossed the bathroom, pulling Dream into a harsh hug. It took them both by surprise, and for a second, Dream stayed frozen in his arms before he returned it, burying his face into the crook of George’s neck.

“You’re an idiot,” George whispered into Dream’s collar.

“Am I?” Dream pushed. “Maybe I don’t want to be an idiot.”

George softened, trailing fingers across Dream’s back. “You’re the best.”

“Show me,” Dream said.

George didn’t need any other prompting. He kissed Dream’s collarbone first before moving up his neck. His hands rose to twist through Dream’s hair, creating a dusty cloud with every movement.

George pulled them toward the shower, laughing as Dream stumbled in, and then his hands were back on Dream’s ribs and hips, mapping them out by touch alone.

Dream’s breaths were uneven, his eyes closed, and he had never looked more beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” George asked. The words left his mouth before he could take them away, but he was staring at the way Dream looked at him like he, too, was a storm.

[xthescarletbitch]

nsfw alphabet || clara garcía

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: f!reader, smut, strap-on use, vibrator use, reader!giving, reader!receiving, exhibitionism

word count: 2400+ (oops, lol)

author’s note: i am tired of rereading this, so i am posting it as-is. apologies for any inconsistencies. 🥺💗

✦ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

la jefa is so preoccupied with libertad y la revolución that spending much time with you after sex is rare, but she does try. when she is able to spend time with you, it’s filled with lots of cuddles and affirmations. she loves to tell you how much she loves and appreciates you, both through words and actions. she will also remind you of your future: living together, worry-free; getting married; starting a family; and loving each-other until old age…

✦ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

if you asked her what her favourite body part of hers was, she would tell you her hands. you would be inclined to agree as her hands have accomplished so much! occasionally, you like to plant kisses all over her hands and fingers to remind her of the fact. and if you had it your way, you would be holding hands 24/7.

clara adores your lips and will absolutely kiss them every chance she gets. she loves how soft and plump they are. she also enjoys how magical they are, in a sense that they can wash away all of her worries and concerns. sometimes you like to tease her and pretend that you’re going to peck her on the lips, but then you turn and kiss her cheek at the last minute. she usually reacts by grabbing your face and pressing her lips against yours, thus satisfying her cravings.

✦ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

she has no huge preference because she isn't picky. she does enjoy giving head and cleaning up the mess with her mouth if she has the time. and when she does, clara is extra and will make a show out of it (licking every single fucking finger like she just finished a delectable meal - because she did). another thing that she absolutely craves is when she's pleasing you and she hears that schlop sound. it's like a switch - instant feral mode. she will do anything she can to make the sound happen again. in fact, she wants the room to fill with the noise of your cute sounds, both from your mouth and cunt.

✦ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

clara loves maps (shocker [lovingly]). it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that she has one dedicated to marking the places where you did it. she likes to hold onto that memory of your intimacy, especially when you're away on business for libertad.

one time, she was questioned about the map and got incredibly flustered. she was lucky enough to think about passing it off as a map with sight-seeing locations... because you are a sight to see (lolol i am sorry).

✦ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think that she is fairly experienced. she’s a woman who knows exactly what she wants and will not beat around the bush. she's had flings in college where she experimented some, but it faltered after libertad (that is, until you came along).

sometimes she will get a little too excited and forget to appreciate the foreplay, but you lovingly remind her.

✦ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

anything efficient. outward appearance means nothing to her during sex. she'll take you in missionary, doggy, etc. as long as she can bring you to orgasm, she doesn't care.

though, she finds herself fucking you in a particular position most of the time. you'll be leaned over a surface and she comes up behind you, lifts one of your legs up and then slams into you. she finds that she can hit it the best in this position.

✦ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

clara is one that i think remains a lot more romantic in the moment rather than goofy. she is clearly very passionate about everything she does, so much so that it manifests itself into seriousness. to her, sex is something to be appreciated and respected.

on the occasion that she gets a bit goofy, you both end up laughing over something silly, like the strap slipping out of you.

it's nice to see her smile and laugh, you always think.

✦ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

clara is surprisingly well-groomed for the current situation. she keeps herself relatively trimmed down there, all due to a personal preference. however, she has no particular preferences for a partner.

✦ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

clara may be stressed the fuck out, but she is amazing at leaving those worries at the door (at least temporarily). when it comes to being intimate with you, she allows herself a moment to breathe and relax. clara will not deny you the love that she holds for you. we have seen how passionate she gets about libertad, it’s her life. but then again, so are you.

so to answer the question, she is absolutely romantic during the moment. there is the occasional instance where her stress can get to her and she gets a little rough during sex, but she always makes it up to you during aftercare.

✦ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

clara will sometimes find it difficult to cope when you’re not around. her desires only grow the longer you are apart, and occasionally it’ll get unbearable. if she knows that she can expect you soon, she will wait. when she is unaware or knows it’ll be awhile, she gives into her urges and goes off to masturbate. of course, she imagines you the entire time.

✦ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

when clara is actually able to dedicate time to sex, she makes it count. this includes overstimulation and multiple orgasms. she looks at it as a "let's make it last" - at least until your next session.

sometimes, she can get a little rough, but it's usually due to how passionate she can be. that will usually happen when your moans hit her ears a little too good and she just wants to hear it again, over and over.

✦ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

most of the time, she enjoys being intimate on the comfiest camp bed (nothing but the best for you). however, she realises that it’s considered a luxury and is not opposed to having sex in unconventional places. there have been times where you both cuddle up to each other in the sand and watch the sun set, but the sexual tension becomes too much to bear and you end up fucking on the beach. there may have also been a few occurrences of fucking on the mission table when nobody else was around. in your defence, she looks incredibly attractive when planning recon.

✦ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

being reminded that you’re hers. she works herself too much and will occasionally forget to exist in the moment. many, many times have ended up like this: she has been glued to her map all day and you notice how tense she looks. you start by slowly approaching her from behind and run your fingers along her spine. she’ll let out a little breath, indicating that she is starting to relax into your touch and allows you to proceed. you continue by caressing her skin and planting kisses along her neck, to her shoulders, and down her arms. you don’t stop there - you continue by planting kisses on her hands and fingers, ensuring that you make eye contact with her. you see her worries dissipate as you show her your undivided attention. knowing that you’re there for her and are willing to help her unwind is enough to get her going.

sometimes, all she craves is your touch.

✦ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

while the thrill of being seen is attractive to some, clara would rather keep your intimacy private. of course, she isn't opposed to public sex so long as nobody else is around. additionally, like dani, she will never say anything to hurt or degrade you. she is very careful with her choice of words, especially in such an intimate moment where both of you are vulnerable.

✦ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

she has no preference. it almost always starts with her receiving, though (her reward for stepping away from that damn map). the thing about clara, however, is that she always returns the favor tenfold. she is quite skilled with it, considering she will not leave the spot in-between your legs until she’s satisfied with your satisfaction.

✦ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

everything in her life feels like it is going at hyper-speed, which has (unsurprisingly) contributed to her impatience. when it comes to being intimate with you, she is always excited to jump right in, which will usually happen quickly. once the ball has started rolling, she reminds herself to slow down and enjoy your moments together. she doesn’t know when the next time will be, if there is one. so for that reason, she keeps her pace slow and sensual as a way to truly cherish sex with her partner.

though... as i mentioned before, rough sex is not out of the picture for her. when it gets into that territory, her romantic factor is in correlation with her physical feats. just imagine the way she'd caress your face as she slowly, but roughly, pounds into you.

✦ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

as mentioned before, clara is insanely passionate, especially about you. as such, she feels that quickies do not do her affection and lust any justice. that’s not to say that she won’t do them, because she will, but that she’d rather dedicate as much time as she is able to being intimate with you. she will do quickies as a way to bridge the gap in between truly fervent sessions.

✦ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

being risky is nothing new for clara. she takes risks every single day that she opposes the regime. however, she prefers to keep things safe between you both. she will experiment and take risks within reason, contingent on the fact that she can confidently let her guard down. if she is unable to, it’s a no-go. she refuses to put you in any further danger (if she can help it).

✦ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

clara can last pretty long and can go for as many rounds as you have in you. as implied before, she prefers to stretch the rounds out for as long as she can in order to truly appreciate it (and to keep going after one orgasm). unfortunately, she gets a bit anxious about libertad to go for countless rounds. she will usually allow herself to go on for at least two, possibly more if she isn’t immediately needed…

…at least that is what she tells herself, but she relinquishes some self-control as soon as she sees you sprawled out for her. libertad can wait. you cannot.

✦ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

she definitely owns toys. at the very least, clara owns a dildo that she will use on you and herself. it’s a beautiful ocean blue.

additionally, she also owns a little vibrator that she likes to use when she wants to overstimulate you. it is a magnificent sight, truly. she loves how flustered you get when she pulls it out.

just imagine what i said for positioning: the way she has your back arched and pressed against her… she has one hand with the vibrator buzzing on your clit and the other hand gripping your waist as she pulls you back against her… the overwhelming feeling to just release already is building up, and so is her stamina.

✦ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

clara is not one to verbally tease, no matter what it is. she takes everything very seriously, especially in the bedroom.

she will physically tease you. oh, did you want her to hurry up? now she's slowing down... and you can cum, but she won’t stop. unfair, sure. but she will ultimately give you what you want (always).

✦ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

clara tries her best to be quiet, but that doesn’t always work out. when she’s receiving pleasure, she will let out occasional breathy moans and sprinkle curse words in-between. when she’s giving pleasure, she’ll moan for the sake of adding stimulation against you. if she’s using the strap on you, she will softly grunt as she pulls it out and slams it back in.

✦ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i feel like a common theme throughout this alphabet is the headcanon i have that clara is so preoccupied with libertad and the only thing to pull her out of it is you. i also feel that the reason for her intense passion is that she grew up being privileged compared to other yarans. she knows what it’s like to have everything, but has witnessed what it is like to be without. she knows how to appreciate what she has, while also fighting for what’s right. everything she does is for the good of others (sweet baby </3).

✦ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

✦ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

clara’s sex drive is so-so. sometimes she is so busy that she doesn’t pay it much attention. but when she’s around you, it’s high.

she is also not one to necessarily take her stress and frustrations out on you, but will turn her negative feelings into fervor. she seems like she could get along just fine, until she can’t. again, it’s all about where her mind is at and where you are.

✦ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

clara will absolutely fight sleep after sex. she just wants to spend all of her time with you before she has to go back to her duties. as mentioned before, it’s rare that she can get a lot of time to dedicate to this, so she wants to make the most of it. a lot of times, you cuddle up and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

she sleeps the best when she is with you.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

<adventure log- 000000000018- error: invalid function handle- please update and recompile- contact your system administrator if this problem persists.>

Link.

"I almost didn't hear you. Why're you suddenly so quiet?"

Head for the point marked on the map in your Sheikah Slate.

"Oookay. Didn't answer my question, though..."

Map. Slate. Really?!

... Uh. That's a crying eyeball, not a map and wow, I didn't notice its funny triangle eyelashes before! That eye's really wide, too, like it's surprised. Maybe this is the symbol of terrible surprises. Wonder what the circles and lines are for?

Map, Link.

Oops. "Sure!"

...

"When'll it show up?"

You must make it show up.

"It just showed me my stick and my shortpants all by itself! I didn't have to do anything but look. It did that for my belly shirt, too." Oooh! Link, this IS a belly shirt, look look look look look look, actually it doesn't look half-bad. I have abs!!! Wow! Did I work out? I must have worked out or something. ...My muscles are all... quivery...

"Is that normal, Voice-Lady?"

I suspect you are simply hungry, Link... though.. I'm sure you will have experienced some muscle atrophy despite the stasis field.

"Stay sis?"

It's... what held you still, Link.

"Uh-huh. That sounded an awful lot like 'we were... friends.' You know, with that pause in there that means you're thinking about something a little bit too hard because you don't want to tell me what the real answer is for some reason."

I DO want to tell you the real answer.

"Great!"

...

"Oh, come on!"

Please, be patient, Link. You haven't eaten, nor have you spoken to that man down the hill, nor have you checked the map I've attempted to direct you to twice.

"Are you my mom?"

NO! Gracious!

"Just checking. You seem to like telling me what to do."

...

"Ooooh. You DO like telling me what to do!"

Oh- don't be ridiculous.

"I don't think I'm being ridiculous." Heh, she likes ordering me around. Hmmm....

Check. Your. Map.

Hmm.

I like it.

Weird... "Okay. I'll... oh, right--how do I make it show up?"

Touch the screen and pull to the right.

"All....righty..."

"What? This isn't a map. It's just a bunch of squares! Kmph--'current location'--as if that means anything in a bunch of little grid marks."

At the very least, it shows which way you must go. L-

"Yep, I get it. The yellow dot. It's sort of leftish. East-by-northeast-ish."

Yes.

Guess I'm not a total dingkeese. But... "Hey, is something wrong? You keep getting softer, then louder, then softer again."

I must concentrate.

"...Is everything okay?"

Things are relatively stable for the moment.

"That's not a yes."

It's not a no.

"Technically." Okay, so something's wrong on her end.

What's this weird feeling in my chest?

...Stop getting distracted, Link. Check out this map. What's the yellow dot, exactly?

Yet more creepiness. It's telling me to follow it. Is that because I know that's what I'm supposed to do and it's reading my mind? Is it because Voice-Lady said I should do that and it heard her?

At least it'll make it hard for me to forget things, I guess.

Oooh, what's the blue thing?

...

...

"THE SHRINE OF WHAT?!"

Oh. Um.

"I WAS DEAD?!"

W-well. I'm not certain, exactly.

"RESURRECTION IS A PRETTY CLEAR WORD, I DO REMEMBER WHAT WORDS MEAN, AT LEAST MOST OF THEM, AND IT MEANS TO BRING BACK TO LIFE! HOLY S&*# IN A BREAD BOWL NO WONDER YOU DIDN'T WANT TO TELL ME HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY NOOOOO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO no no no no no no no noooooo I'm insane, that's what it is, isn't it? I'm crazy. I'm hearing you talk to my insides! There's no one here! I'm just a madman holding a book or something and my eyes are just making up what I'm seeing. There's no such thing as resurrection. You can't just bring someone back to life."

Then I challenge you, Link, to explain why the word exists at all.

"Maybe it doesn't! Maybe I'm extra woo-bah-loo keese-sh@# crazy and I made up a word and it's not real EITHER!"

Link- Link, please-

"Nope! I'm done! I'm gonna go find food. See ya."

...

"... Uh. Hear ya... but I won't listen. This is me saying la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la vs. your clearly-not-real voice."

.

.

Quiet... good. I think.

-----

<navigation - adventure log - view previous log - view next log - return to log archive>

[too-gay-for-marvel]

just this once pt.3

a/n: i know im technically a day late, but we stopped very late. but its here! and its gonna be a decent amount of parts, so be prepared, besties

Word Count: 2,439

Warnings: smut implications

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

Natasha had to admit, she hated how understanding Maria was. She had gone home and told Maria what you had said, expecting to become single almost as soon as she had finished talking. But no, Natasha had finished her rant, and Maria had taken a deep breath before saying “I’m sorry,” and dragging her into a hug.

She would’ve handled a “we’re over” much better.

But it helped ease some of the guilt that she was carrying around with her. It lifted some of the weight that had been keeping her head down and feet dragging. And with Maria being the most understanding person in the world, now she could live her life. Did she forgive herself? Fuck no, but at least she could move on with Maria.

It helped that you kept to what she had told you.

In the months after learning the truth, she never saw you. Her feet never took her to your suite, her thoughts never trailed to that night. Well. Not during the day. She… didn’t want to talk about the dreams.

Natasha was able to go a solid month without seeing you, and even though the back of her mind kept telling her to talk to you, she had stayed away. She had kept to her “honey do” list, went on her missions, and just lived her life.

Until Fury stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.

“You two have a mission.”

Natasha looked over to where you were standing, over in the corner as far away from her as you could be. Your eyes were down, only occasionally darting up to look at Fury when he was talking. She could see the fins on your arm flare out a bit before relaxing again, along with the slight twitch of your gills.

“Can this mission not be done with one person?” Natasha asked, her eyes still locked on you; you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“It requires stealth and…” Fury looked over at you and sighed. “Gills.”

“And here I thought you kept me around for my good looks,” you teased with an upturn of the corner of your mouth.

“When do you need us?” Natasha asked, and your half smile fell as quickly as it had appeared.

“You leave bright and early, 0400.”

With that, Fury left the room, leaving you and her alone. She took note of your fins staying flared, and took that as her sign to leave. Your feet shuffled, and she moved slower just in case, but you never reached out to her. That was all Natasha needed to head back to her room to prepare for tomorrow.

Tomorrow came far too soon, and it felt like only moments later that Natasha was standing in the hangar, watching you prep your gear.

Incorrectly.

“Your holster’s backwards,” Natasha pointed out.

“It is not, I’m testing something out,” you shot back without looking up.

“Whatever you put in there is going to fall out,” she continued.

You ignored her, but tried to turn it around without her noticing. She did. A silence fell over the both of you as you continued to get ready. Natasha had already gotten all of her stuff, but you continued to move around. You grabbed your belt and a harpoon, all of them quickly attached at your hips.

You maintained your relentless pace, her face pressed against the wall as you held your hand to the back of her neck. She felt you thrusting into her, most likely leaving a bruise on her ass and hips, but all she knew was that it felt so good she could only think of one thing-

Natasha turned her head away, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say. She refused to look at you until you stood up straight, geared up and ready to go. Your suit told her that there was going to be some sort of underwater aspect, and that gave her a bit of insight as to what was expected of the both of you.

The quinjet ride was awkward, to say the least. You stayed in the back while Natasha flew. She was thankful that you were keeping your distance. If you had been close, it was very possible that Natasha would have lost her damn mind.

Your suit always did do something to her.

You hadn't even bothered to take your pants off; just pulled them down far enough for you to get your strap out. Her fingers scrambled to grab purchase of something, anything, but your suit was still wet from the mission. Almost as wet as she was.

Natasha shook her head, trying to physically remove the memories. She was going to kill Nick when she got back.

She needed to focus on the mission. There was no need for it to be anything other than a mission. Get in, map out the building, get out. You would cover the lower levels, she would cover the upper, it shouldn't take more than an hour.

It was a slow descent to the checkpoint, but easy enough. You spent the last few minutes braiding your hair, keeping it out of the way and showing off the shaved part of your head. Natasha remembered teaching you how to tie those braids.

Once the quinjet was landed and you were both on solid ground, it was straight to business.

"Once you get back to solid ground, your pants and gear should be in a backpack marked on your locator," Natasha said.

"We'll meet up in the eastern stairwell," you continued, not even skipping a beat. It was like nothing had ever happened.

"Comms on?"

"Gonna miss me?" You asked, cocky as ever, but you turned the comm on anyway.

"Just get moving," Natasha huffed with a roll of her eyes. "The sooner we get in, the sooner we're done."

"See you in a minute," you winked and mock-saluted before jumping down into the hole that would be your entrance.

It's what she hated about you; how you could so easily act like nothing had ever happened.

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just one. Then it was time to get moving. She finished pulling her cap down, mostly covering the top half of her face before finishing the walk to the guarded entrance

She flashed a badge and they let her in without a word. One of her easier infiltrations, if she were being honest. Just went to prove that as long as she acted like she belonged, no one would question her. It was easier to blend in if you acted like there was no need for it.

Starting from the top, Natasha made her way down the building, mapping corridors, potential hidden rooms, rooms of interest. By the time she made it to your meeting point, she had marked more than enough information to assist in future missions.

All she needed was your half and she could go home.

The door to the stairwell was thrown open, slamming against the wall and causing Natasha to flinch ever so slightly. You were still soaking wet, trailing water behind you, and you didn't have your gear.  In fact, you didn't have anything.

"What happened?" Natasha asked. But the sound of an alarm being set off was answer enough.

"It wasn't me," you stated simply.

Yelling echoed in the corridor behind you, and you gave Natasha A Look. That was all she needed before you both took off running down the stairs, skipping three or four at a time. She heard a *squeak* and turned around just in time to see you fall flat on your ass with a loud grunt.

“Get up,” Natasha groaned.

She didn’t wait for you to get up on your own, instead decided to grab your arm and yank you up. Except for the fact that she had forgotten how wet you were, and how slippery your skin could get, and you ended up falling back onto your ass a second time.

“Some help you are,” you growled as you managed to push yourself back up onto your feet.

“If you weren’t such a freak, this wouldn’t even be a problem,” Natasha shot back.

You both continued running, finally reaching the bottom floor just in time to hear echoed footsteps a few floors above you. Natasha opened the door and pushed you in, quick to follow after. She shut the door and grabbed the extra harpoon bolt from your hip, shoving it between the door and the wall while you protested.

“Get going,” she said as she continued to push you forward, looking for a way out.

“We could always go through the sewers,” you suggested with a shrug when you both came to a halt in an intersection that you swore you hadn’t seen yet.

“I’m not escaping in a fucking sewer,”Natasha shot at you. “You were supposed to find us a way out.”

“It’s not my fault someone ratted us out! I don’t like being stuck with you either!” You shouted back.

“Oh sure, after all of that bullshit a few months ago, now you don’t want to get stuck with me?”

“Listen, I said I was-”

“They’re around the corner!” A voice shouted. You and Natasha shared a look, and Natasha managed to pull you into a closet just in time for footsteps to be heard coming in your direction.

“We should’ve taken the sewer,” you whisper-yelled as Natasha tried to ignore how close to you she was.

If you two had been any closer, you would’ve been inside each other, and not in the enjoyable way. Natasha’s arms were pinned in between the both of you, and she could feel your ribs under her fingers. Her ear was pressed to your body; she could hear your irregular, three-pump heartbeat loud and clear. There used to be a time she would have enjoyed being so close.

You were both silent as you waited for the footsteps and yelling to die down. Even when they had faded, you stayed still, hoping that they wouldn’t open the closet as a last resort. Your body heat was comforting, and Natasha almost found herself forgetting the danger that was just around the corner. But then you gave an awkward cough and shifted, and Natasha was brought back to the fact that this wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable.

“I think we’re safe,” Natasha mumbled.

“Let’s get out of here,” you agreed as you cleared your throat again, still incredibly uncomfortable.

You reached around her and opened the door, the both of you practically falling out of the closet. When Natasha stood up straight again, she brushed the nonexistent dirt from her suit and avoided your gaze at all costs. Only when she had regained her composure did she turn to you again.

“You mentioned a sewer?” Natasha asked, completely defeated.

You nodded and started running in the opposite direction of the yelling, leading her down corridors until you both reached a manhole cover. Natasha could smell the sewage without opening it, and she could only imagine how terrible it would be once she jumped in. But there didn’t really seem to be any other option, and you were already prying it open just enough for them to slip in.

“Ladies first,” you gestured.

“Gee, thanks,” Natasha groaned as she took her last breath of semi-pure air and jumped in.

The stench was worse than anything Natasha had ever smelled before. All the death and ruin she had witnessed, and she still believed that this was worse. She couldn’t even attempt to guess at what was causing the smell, but she didn’t think she wanted to know. Maybe it would be a little more tolerable if she just pretended it was nothing.

You jumped in after her and pulled the manhole back into place, and just like that, it was like neither of you had ever been there. You didn’t wait for her as you started making your way out of the building, and Natasha quickly followed suit. She didn’t understand how you could breathe the air like it was nothing, but maybe it was part of your physiology. Maybe you were just lucky.

It felt like an eternity before you both ran into a ladder that would take you out of the sewer. You yanked the manhole cover aside and Natasha went up first, gasping when she smelled the fresh air. It was like being reborn, she thought. Her cells felt rejuvenated and her skin felt cleaner.

As soon as you pulled the cover back on, you both ran back to the quinjet as fast as you could. The stench of sewage followed you, stuck to your clothes; they would probably be incinerated when you got back to the tower. But you were out, and you could head back with enough confidence to tell Nick that you had at least gotten half of the building mapped out.

“You fly, I think I’m drying out,” you groaned. Natasha didn’t argue.

She sat in the pilot’s seat and set a course for the tower, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a good sleep. But she looked back in time to see you stripping your suit off, groaning as it literally peeled off. Inch by inch, she saw your shoulders, your spines, your back, those abs.

You were never one to let anyone see you undressed, but Natasha loved that she was allowed. The way you shifted and twitched when her fingers ran over your skin, when you whined if she kissed that spot on your back. Loved the feel of your abs flexing as you thrusted into her at an inhuman pace that had her moaning and cumming for hours and-

“Nat, pull up!”

Natasha felt your hands covering hers, yanking up, and the real world unfolded before her eyes. The ground was quickly approaching, and the sound of the air rushing past the quinjet was enough to make Natasha’s hands shake. Only when the jet was back up and on course did she start to settle.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” You shouted, but Natasha just turned back to the front, trying her hardest to ignore the stinging in her eyes.

You grumbled and walked off, and Natasha could feel the frustration radiating off of you. But she didn’t really care anymore. She had nearly gotten you both killed because she had been too busy remembering you railing her. Natasha couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t be around you anymore.

Not if she wanted to stay alive.

[jlilycorbie]

7 & 7

Thanks to @toribookworm22 for the tag!

Rules: Share 7 snippets from a work of choice and tag 7 people.

Forgive me, but I still don't feel comfortable tagging people. Someday, I will convince myself that other people like being tagged and won't be annoyed with me, but today isn't that day. If you see this, consider it an open tag. I would love to see snippets from your projects!

These are all from the (still) untitled fantasy WIP.

For reference, Scavats is an unagul: a giant ram rooster. He's big enough to ride like a horse, and his kind are know to be formidable predators.

1.

Scavats stretched his neck to nibble and pull on Oyuungah's tail. She squealed and danced ahead, giggling, then turned to bat at his nose. He showed his fangs and pranced.

"Everything?" Zaya asked, keeping hold of his harness so he wouldn't be tempted to chase his new friend. "Do you remember everything?"

"I don't think I ever knew much." Setsamaa swept a hand ahead of them. "It's like the road. If you know to look, you can see it. I still forget, until I see someone who is Djaetyli. And I remember there was a land to the north filled with people. I remember the sound of their accents, the taste of food they brought. The wine and the vinegar from ice berries."

Scavats hung his head while he plodded along until Oyuungah slowed to walk beside him and scratch his ears. He moaned, dangling his tongue.

Zaya breathed deep, and maybe she recalled a ghost of flavor. The road died when they stopped coming, when other people stopped going. Wet season would wash it away, flower season would sprout through it, fire season would parch and crack it, cold season would finish shattering it to wash away. The Huudzairen kept open roads by magic and labor. The caravans did their part, maintaining where they could, marking problems and passing word when they couldn't.

The people of the north wouldn't have used a road alone. Huudzairen must have made and kept it. Why wouldn't Castravi and Tsaltich and others use it, too, even if they no longer wanted to go north?

2.

The spring burbled out from beneath a big rock. On the steppes, a little extra height went a long way. Zaya grabbed her map and climbed on top of it.

As she unfurled the vellum, she saw Djaetyrot and remembered. Why she was there. Everything she'd talked to Setsamaa about. She had the map for years, and occasionally she'd take it out, realize something had gone very wrong in the world, then…put it down and forget. Put it away without looking. Find it again.

But every time, it wore a groove a little deeper in her mind. Became harder to ignore even if she didn't know what fit there. And she remembered ice berry vinegar with salty, crumbling cheese and peppered honey on warm bread.

3.

They arrived with the sunset in their eyes as the zaighen gathered for the evening. The low sun caught on their pelts and blazed like fire.

"They're beautiful," Zaya breathed.

"And yet you slaughtered one," Setsamaa said.

Zaya spent her life protecting herds and flocks. She knew some of the cold reality of even the gentlest farming. From a distance, the herd looked healthy. "It is not always beautiful and does not always feel right, does life."

4.

It also meant she clearly heard staggering footsteps nearby. Zaya looked around, and at the next intersection, she spotted a young woman struggling to carry two water buckets. She wore a loose top like the Huudzairen, and she had two legs. She had hooves, but they were rounded instead of cloven, and she wore a loose wrapped skirt with bright, intricate embroidery and tiny mirrors that flashed in the early light.

"A hand," Zaya offered, extending one to her.

She stumbled to a stop and stared, and Zaya worried she'd gotten the words wrong until her pale cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she said, and she allowed Zaya to take one of them.

"Where we going, then?"

"We're the spices and ovens," she said, grasping her remaining bucket with both hands. She had a Tsaltich accent.

"You cook so far from water?" Zaya asked.

"Not usually, no." She shook her long, dark hair out of her eyes and peered up at Zaya. "You're new then."

"Arrived last night. Just trying to find my way around, yeah?"

The girl grinned. "Then you want to find us. I'm Llenas, and you'll meet my ma and da soon, Elyri and Hyelwun. Usually we get here, someone calls a well for us, but it failed this year. Got to wait a few days to try again."

"And meanwhile carry water," Zaya guessed. "I'm Zaya. Don't know how long I'll stay."

5.

"You're back!" Oyuungah spotted them and addressed Scavats directly. He rumbled with pleasure and stretched his neck out, then flopped over as she scratched him, blocking the whole path.

"Shameful," Zaya told him, shaking her head and doing her best not to smile as their escort of children giggled.

A pair of dragons swooped by, and one managed to score a clawful of fluff. "I see the monster is on the loose," Bahkyti said mildly. He had one dragon on his shoulder, and his bald head covered as much to give another somewhere to perch as to protect himself from the sun.

"I hope we're all prepared for the aftermath of his rampage," Zaya said. He rolled over for belly rubs, dangling his tongue.

"Devastating," Bahkyti drawled as he tossed a couple of dried meat scraps into the air. The dragons caught them while Scavats watched. He fingered another piece before he tossed it to the unagul.

Scavats tried to snap the crumb out of the air, but he also didn't want to unseat the child who had climbed onto his chest. He wiggled to the side, twisting his head to lick it off the ground. He sneezed.

"All your ancestors are embarrassed right now," Zaya said while Oyuungah giggled and scratched beneath his chin.

6.

"You can wait in camp then," she said, smiling as she pushed him back. He snorted in her face, then stopped and crouched as their camp came into sight. Aleksani stood on the edge of the boundary. Scavats lowered his head, rumbling quietly, and Zaya set a hand on his neck to calm him.

Aleksani held very still as Zaya approached. Her jaw and eyes were tight, her skin almost blue in the fading light. When Zaya was close enough to talk, she turned to show her entire side soaked in blood. "I require assistance," she said, and crumpled.

As Aleksani collapsed, Zaya lunged forward. Aleksani folded over her arm. "Not the best place for this, hey?" she asked. Even after all the sleep, Zaya's body ached in protest. At least they were at the edge of her camp, so it wasn't far to haul her up and support her over the boundary and to her hammock.

Scavats grumbled and scratched at the ground, and Zaya said, "Oh, go pout out of the way." He snorted and continued to hover nearby. "What have you done to yourself, Leksa?"

"Who said you could call me that?" Aleksani asked.

"Made the decision myself, when you swooned into my arms," Zaya said. "Come on now, what have you done?"

Her skin was clammy, her eyes dark. "I made a miscalculation," Aleksani said.

7.

Zaya watched Aleksani in the reflection until she opened the doors to her wardrobe and gathered up the hem of the borrowed shirt. Watching her reflection felt intrusive in a way simply facing her would not. She turned away, and she found herself at eye-level with the three poppets. "Leksa?" Zaya asked. "Will you tell me about the poppets?"

"Thank you for your assistance," Aleksani said, offering Zaya her shirt. She wore a soft gown now of pale blue. The shade made her look like a corpse.

Zaya accepted her shirt and nodded. She almost expected Aleksani to call her back as she left, but she didn't.

[andatsea]

XP-Pen Artist Pro 24 Review

I drew this with an XP-Pen Artist Pro 24, which the team at XP-Pen kindly sent to me for review. I’ve had to opportunity to use this tablet on-and-off over the course of the past several weeks, and while there were a few issues my overall impression is positive.

Unboxing / Contents

Apart from the 24” display tablet itself, the package comes with the usual cabling peripherals, plus some bonus extras. If your machine supports a USB-C connection for display, you’ll only need the one cable (plus the power connection). Otherwise, there’s a HDMI and a USB-C to USB converter included as well.

The extras include: an additional stylus, a one-size-fits-all artist’s glove, and a microfiber cloth.

The container for the stylus twists open to reveal 8 extra stylus nibs. Its cap can also be removed to use as a stylus holder.

Driver (Installation & General Use)

There were a few issues with installation, mostly tied to interactions between the driver, Windows 10 and Windows Ink.

Initially, brush strokes were offset from the stylus’ point of contact with the screen by about 3-4 centimetres when attempting to draw in Photoshop CS6. Random straight strokes also occurred frequently. This same problem did not occur in MS Paint or Photoshop CC 2019. This was fixed by changing the UI scaling setting for the monitor in Windows settings from 125% (which was apparently the default) to 100%.

Initially, brush strokes had no pen pressure in Photoshop CC 2019. Photoshop CS6, on the other hand, did (but suffered from the previous offset problem). This was fixed by turning on the Windows Ink setting in the XP-Pen driver menu. So in other words: CC 2019 needs Windows Ink on to recognise pen pressure, while CS6 didn’t, but was affected by UI scaling.

Interestingly, if Windows Task Manager was in focus and Windows Ink was not enabled in driver settings, stylus input was not recognised at all. There may be other programs that have this issue, but this was the only one I encountered so far.

I will say that I’ve had many problems with Wacom drivers interacting badly with Windows Ink and other things in the past before, so these types of issues are not exclusive to the XP-Pen drivers.

I’m currently using driver version 3.0.5, a beta build that has a lovely UI; it’s clear and laid out well. I did also try version 1.6.4 initially, which was fine — the UI for that version was similar to the layout you find with Wacom drivers.

Apart from the issues during installation that required troubleshooting, I haven’t had many major complaints with the driver in day-to-day use, I do think that there are a few areas for improvement, however.

The driver stops working correctly each time the computer is set to sleep and woken up again. To fix this the driver must be exited from the system tray and then relaunched.

There also doesn’t seem to be a way to bind WIN+SHIFT+ARROW to any of the express keys. WIN+SHIFT+ARROW (left or right arrow) is the Windows shortcut to quickly move a focused window to another monitor, so it’s something I use a lot if I’m on a multi-monitor setup. Unfortunately, attempting to set this shortcut in the express keys menu will simply move the actual driver window over to the other monitor while the custom input is not properly recognised in the text field.

The driver does offer a “switch monitor” option for the express keys that when clicked will transfer your stylus input to another monitor, which is extremely useful.

Screen

At 24” with a 2560x1440p QHD resolution, images are sharp and crisp even when viewed from a close range while drawing. Genuinely, it feels great to paint on based off this aspect alone.

The colour temperature is set to 6500K by default in the the driver settings. I think initially it felt just a touch too saturated, but overall I’m fairly happy with the colour display.

The monitor has touch-sensitive inputs on the top right corner: a -/+ for quickly adjusting the brightness, a menu for further settings, and power. I found myself using these to adjust the brightness throughout the day frequently. The power input requires a few seconds of continued contact from your finger to react, which prevents you from accidentally brushing it and turning the monitor on/off.

The monitor comes with a built-in stand. I found it easy to adjust to different viewing angles and also incredibly sturdy. I had no problems leaning on the monitor while drawing.

The monitor also comes with a pre-applied anti-glare screen protector. I wasn’t bothered by it and it seems to be holding out well after several weeks of use. I think the screen itself definitely needs the additional anti-glare, as being a display tablet means that it’s significantly more reflective than my main display.

Stylus

My first impression of the stylus was that it’s lighter in comparison to the Wacom styluses that I’m used to — there is very little to no weighting on the back end of the stylus, which makes it feel noticeably different when gripped. To be honest, though, I forgot about it when I was actually painting. Still, I would prefer a bit more weighting because I do think it makes the stylus more comfortable to hold overall for long periods of time.

There’s also no eraser nib, but I’ve personally never used those on Wacom tablets (I always use shortcuts to switch between brush and eraser instead) so this was a non-issue for me.

The two shortcut buttons on the side of the stylus sit quite flat to the surface, so I think they would be less likely to bother people who don’t use them. I use them a lot, however, and found that they were still easy to click despite being quite flat.

Unfortunately however I ran into a curious issue with using one of the stylus buttons to activate the eyedropper tool. When the “alt” key is mapped to one of the triggers on the stylus, activation of the eyedropper function in Photoshop (tested in both CS6 and CC 2019) is somewhat unreliable. That is, when the “alt” key is held down, the expected result is that once you tap the stylus on the canvas, a “mouse-click” will be triggered and the eyedropper will activate. While this works perfectly fine if you hold down “alt” from the keyboard (or hold down an “alt” that’s bound to one of the 20 express keys), when you hold “alt” from a stylus trigger I found that tapping quickly with the stylus only seemed to activate the eyedropper about 50% of the time. In order to activate it more reliably, I had to press harder and longer with the stylus, which can become tiring and slowed down my painting process. I also found that frequently, pressing down longer would lock me into the eyedropping function until I clicked the trigger key again.

After submitting feedback about this XP-Pen’s R&D department, I was informed that this issue occurs because the stylus is only able to send one message to the tablet at a time. Pressing “alt” on the stylus and trying to “click” at the same time counts as two messages, which may interact with each other unexpectedly. This is why it sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.

The buttons seem to otherwise work completely fine for any other functions that don’t require the stylus to send two simultaneous messages, so unless you’re like me and like to bind “alt” to a stylus trigger, this won’t affect you.

Pen Pressure & Activation Force

Most current-gen tablets flash a big number for the pen pressure levels as a selling point. Having used tablets with 512, 2k, 4k and 8k levels of pressure sensitivity, I’d say I noticed the biggest difference when switching from 512 to 2k, but in my opinion beyond 2k the change is minimal and has no real impact on the way I draw. The XP-Pen Artist Pro 24 comes with 8192 levels of sensitivty, which is a very big number, but in practical application all I can say is that it works the way I expect it to and I don’t have any complaints regarding the transition between pressure levels on the default linear pressure curve.

More importantly I did notice that the IAF (initial activation force) was not as low as I would have liked. Very light input is not recognised, or only partially recognised before dropping off and on again. In a practical sense this doesn’t actually impact me through most of (perhaps 97%) of the painting process, but it did give me pause once in a while when I wanted to make a really light stroke and had to adjust my method. The drivers for this tablet do come with a pressure curve you can adjust to your preferences, so this can help a little, although after some tests I preferred to leave mine on the default setting.

Summary of Drawing Experience (tl;dr)

I think the mark of a good tool or piece of hardware is that it does not draw attention to itself during the course of its use. An ideal drawing experience allows me to be fully immersed in the act of drawing without having my focus shifted to dealing with the tool. With this in mind the XP-Pen Artist Pro performed very well for the most part, but was held back by a couple of issues.

Pros:

The monitor resolution honestly feels great to look at; the pixel density means that I can basically forget about pixels even with my face positioned closer to the screen.

The parallax between the tip of the stylus and the actual position of input was very minimal and basically not noticeable for me, especially after the simple calibration process offered by the driver.

At normal room temperature (say up to about mid-20’s celsius) the monitor screen stays impressively cool to the touch and I was never bothered by resting my drawing hand on its surface even when painting for long sessions.

The 20 express keys and 2 roller rings are extremely helpful and I actually found myself using all of them, despite initially thinking that I’d only need half of them. The keys are also comfortable and responsive to click (which sounds like it should obviously be so, but having used some Intuos iterations in the past which had some very annoying-to-click express keys, I don’t take this feature for granted anymore).

Cons:

The driver needs to be restarted everytime the computer wakes from sleep in order to work.

Higher IAF was noticeable when very light strokes were desirable. Also, the input will on rare occasions glitch by performing a completely straight max opacity + max brush size stroke. This seemed to happen primarily when I was trying to get light strokes to register. (It didn’t happen often enough to bother me much since it’s just a quick undo, but it did happen enough times that I noticed it.)

The issue with eyedropping using “alt” mapped to a stylus trigger as detailed above. Quite unlucky for someone like me who has over a decade of muscle memory for this particular mapping.

Overall, as I said at the beginning, my impression of the tablet is positive. While I think it has room for improvement when it comes to driver performance and the initial activation force especially, it also has a lot to offer at a highly competitive price point ($900USD at retail), and it would’ve been amazing if something like this had been available to me back when I first started digital painting. As I do enjoy using it for the most part I’ll probably continue to use it on-and-off in future.

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

I love ur fics ahhhh 😭💕 I saw ur requests were open so I couldn't resist. Can you do a Hanji x reader one shot where it's Hanji's and the reader's anniversary but Hanji ends up forgetting about the date they planned bc they're busy with their experiments and stuff. An argument ends up happening but Hanji feels guilty so she ends up forcing Erwin to let them have a day off where they have a date with their s/o. Maybe Levi and Erwin help too? Thank you sm sorry this is so specific!

HANGE NOOOO oml they would though

Anniversary

(Zoe Hange x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff

Summary: Too busy with work, Hange forgets about their three year anniversary, and an argument ensues. Upset about this, they gets Levi and Erwin’s help to make it up to their s/o.

Words: 2.4K

Beams of light shone through the window—blinds doing little to stop it. The sporadic rays of the sun warmed your skin, your body stirring you awake at the detection of sunlight.

You slowly open your eyes to say good morning to your lover, but you sighed in disappointment at the empty space next to you, a small dip in the bed where they always slept.

You sit up and look at the calendar. There it was, circled in bright red ink, March 7th. Your two year anniversary of dating the scientist.

You knew of their habits; staying up late working on experiments, and waking up extra early to begin again. You understood the importance of their work, but you couldn’t help but be saddened by their frequent absences. You wished, at the very least, they could find time in their day to spend with you, especially on your anniversary of all days.

You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the closet, ready to get dressed and face yet another long, busy day.

---

You knocked on the door again—the third time since you had showed up to the commander’s door. After another moment of no response, you pushed the door open wordlessly, they wouldn’t care if you walked right in anyway. It was a privilege only their lover had; being able to walk in while they were working and talk to them. It was a small gesture of affection between the two of you, but a silent one. Still, you appreciated the gesture.

You stepped into the room, and the sight of Hange hunched over the desk and too dissolved in their work to notice you ignited a twinge of sympathy in you. A single, tall candle on the desk provided what little light there was in the room, and you wondered why they hadn’t even bothered to open the blinds. How long have they been awake?

“Hange?” You chirped quietly, and you saw the scientist jump at the sound of their name, turning to face you curiously. They smiled at you the second they recognized you, a satisfied hum leaving their lips. As soon as you had walked close enough to Hange’s desk, they snaked a hand around your neck, pulling you down to plant a soft kiss to your jawline, before returning their attention to the various papers on their desk.

“Good morning, love.” They greeted quietly, and the tiredness was evident in their voice—they made no attempt to hide it.

You blushed at the affectionate greeting, and made yourself comfortable, leaning against one of the many wooden bookshelves that lined the walls of their office.

“G’morning Hange.” You yawned. You thought out your next sentence carefully before you spoke it. “What are you doing up so early? We have a relaxing day ahead of us.”

Hange bore a confused look, turning to you in unfiltered curiosity. “We do?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. How did they not plan for the date the two of you had planned?

“Yeah...” You deadpanned. “We do.”

They made no verbal response, only exasperating their confused look as if to beckon a further explanation.

“Do you not realize what today is...?” You tilted to the side, perhaps testing the waters for a prank, or a temporary lapse in memory. You waited for their head to perk up and chirp out an affirmation about the date, but they did no such thing.

“...What today is?” They echoed, clearly not understanding what you were talking about.

You sighed annoyingly, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Our anniversary, Hange. It’s our anniversary.”

You watched their face sink in realization.

“That’s today...?” They asked meekly. It’s almost as if they could sense the incoming anger and frustration coming from you.

You groaned loudly, pulling your body away from the bookshelf and taking a few steps towards them. “Yes, Hange. It’s today.” Their face strained and they turned to look down at the stack of papers and materials on their desk, a look of ‘Oh shit’ being plastered all over their face.

“Geez, Hange!” You half shouted, causing your already exhausted partner to shrink further into their chair. “You bury yourself in your work so often, but I didn’t think you would forget our anniversary of all things! Am I seriously such a low priority to you?!”

They straightened their back suddenly, and you were reminded of how defensive they got when they felt their work was being insulted. “I have an important job, Y/N! I can’t forfeit everything to spend time with you, I have to keep working!”

You wanted nothing of their excuses, and you turned your back to them, balling up your fists as you headed towards the door, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“Fine,” you shuddered, “If you want to spend our anniversary alone, then be my guest!”

---

“Shit,” they paced back and forth on the wooden floor, subconsciously biting their fingernails out of stress. “Shit shit shit...”

Erwin raised an eyebrow at this, watching Hange with a stern, but amused expression. “Are you done?” His voice echoed in the small office.

“Well, four eyes,” Levi spoke, using his favorite nickname for them nonchalantly, “The first step would be to not yell at her.” He answered bluntly.

Hange threw their arms up in frustration. “Yeah, well it’s too late for that!” They grumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at them... I was just...”

“Cranky?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

They glared at Levi with a relatively displeased expression. “You didn’t have to put it that way...”

A comfortable silence passed the room, and Hange continued to pace the room nervously as Erwin and Levi silently contemplated the estranged person’s query.

“If you really want to make it up to them,” Levi piped up once again, drawing the scientist’s attention away from their thoughts and towards the black haired man sat on the table in front of them. “Then I may have an idea.”

“YES!” Hange shouted, perhaps a little too loud as the two men in the room cringed. “Uh, I mean...” They cleared their throat. “What is it, Levi?”

“Well, first, Erwin.” Levi turned his head to face the blonde man, and Erwin matched his gaze intently. “You’re going to need to give Hange the day off, first.”

Erwin turned his head to the side, folding his arms and sighing, “Use it responsibly.”

“Thank you Erwin!” They flung their arms around the man’s broad shoulders, squeezing him happily in a hug.

They let go after a few seconds, turning to face Levi with and excited expression. “What now Levi?!”

“First,” he deadpanned, “Take a nap. You look miserable.”

---

You strode down the hallways of the barracks, a stern expression still planted on your face from the day’s earlier events.

You decided to play it just like Hange, so you deliberately avoided them in hopes to get them to understand. Was it petty? A little bit. Were you just petty enough to do it anyway? Yeah.

Still, when Erwin pulled you aside out of nowhere and said he needed you urgently, you couldn’t disobey your superior. Not that you had any indication this had to do with Hange, anyway.

“Y/N.” He spoke, boring a serious expression, despite the wildly unprofessional nature of the meeting. “You’re needed somewhere.”

“Wha...” You stumbled over your words for a moment, before asking the first question that came to mind. “Me? Why not someone else?”

He dodged the question effortlessly, continuing right where he left off. “It has to be you. And you have to go alone.” He slid a paper across your desk, but you hesitated to pick it up so quickly.

“Just go to the location I’ve marked here.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, signifying that he had finished speaking. “You’ll understand when you get there. Go.”

You nodded fiercely, saluting him before you turned to leave, picking up the paper as you went.

“And Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Take off your ODM gear. Wear something formal.

---

You went to the location Erwin had specified, and you were only left with more confusion. You had put on something somewhat nice, with a white button up shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes. Still, their was no sign of any sort of “mission” that Erwin apparently needed from you.

You had found yourself in an open field, specifically the one behind the Scout regiment building. The tall grass swayed in the wind, and you noted the fact that the usual soldiers sparring in the fields were strangely absent.

But, as the sun began to set, a small light peered it’s way into your vision. You squinted, focuses your eyes on what appeared to be... a candle...?

You stuffed the map into your back pocket carelessly, speed-walking to the light out of curiosity.

You made it towards the source of the light, and it was, indeed, a candle. Of course, there was more than that. It was set on a small circular table draped in a white tablecloth, one chair on either side of it. Two empty wine glasses as well as a few pairs of utensils on each side.

You studied the sight curiously, and you pulled out a chair without thinking. As soon as you did though, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump and squeak out in surprise.

You heard a hearty chuckle behind you, and you turned to face the source of the noise, but your eyes widened in surprise at the sight.

Hange stood tall in a jet black suit, smiling down at you warmly. They had their hair tied in a ponytail, and had ditched their work goggles for more formal rectangular glasses. “Sorry, Y/N.” They rubbed the back of their neck nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You took a step back, shamelessly eyeing down Hange’s attire, a pink blush creeping up on your cheeks. You meant to stay angry, but you honestly had forgotten all of your gripes upon seeing Hange dressed in such a nice outfit.

“Hange?” You sputtered, trying to hide your fluster. “What’s going on?”

They walked over to you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down to sit in one of the chairs.

“I felt a little bad about forgetting our anniversary,” They chuckled nervously, “So I set this up!” They smiled proudly.

“A candlelit dinner?” You mused, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “How original.” Despite your outwardly unamused reaction, you were pleasantly surprised with the display of affection.

They sat down across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

“It’s well thought out.” You raised an eyebrow in doubt. “For the time we had...” They smiled nervously.

“I’m sure.” You chuckled. You relaxed into your chair before holding up your empty wine glass. “Did you bring anything other than empty dishes?”

Hange nodded quickly, reaching down under their table to grab something, and you quickly realized that it was the neck of a wine bottle. They popped the cork effortlessly, and poured the two of you a glass each.

You took a sip from your glass, the taste of alcohol relaxing you further into your environment.

Hange put two of theirs fingers in the their mouth and whistled loudly, causing you to wince and cover you ears.

“What was that??” You sputtered.

“Just calling over the cook.”

You nodded, taking another long sip from your wine glass. The suddenness of the situation died down, and you peered up at Hange, who seemed to be staring at you nervously. They seemed to be trying to gauge your reaction, but you weren’t giving them anything to work with, so you decided to start speaking.

“You went out of your way to do this?” You sighed, staring at them curiously.

“Yeah...” They trailed off, “I had to make it up y’know. It really wasn’t my intention to ignore you...”

They looked back up at you, and you tilted your head, prompting them to continue.

“I got consumed in my work, and completely forgot about something so important to you. It’s my mistake.” They bowed their head in apology. “So I set this up. I even got Erwin and Levi to help. I just wanted to make it up to you. I just wanted...” They looked to the side with a blush on their face. “...to make you happy.”

You smiled softly at them, understanding their apology.

“It’s fine, Hange.” You laughed out loud, causing Hange to blush at your beautiful face in the candlelight. “I forgive you.”

They smiled, relief washing over her face as the weight lifted off of their shoulders. “Thank god...” They muttered, leaning back in their chair. “I was afraid I fucked up...” They giggled.

Their face in the yellow hue of the candle make them look ethereal, and you couldn’t help your heart from fluttering as the overwhelming urge to kiss them overtook you.

You peered up through shy eyes and met their bright ones. You didn’t explain at all, but they seemed to understand as you scooted your chair closer and leaned forward. They leaned towards you as well, as your lips connected delicately. You felt their hands go up to cup your cheeks gently as you rested your own hands on the table.

You stayed like that, silently enjoying the moment for what felt like ages, until you heard a small sound to your side.

“Ahem,” The noise startled you to lean back a little bit, and Hange did the same. A man, donned in a formal outfit holding a tray of luxurious looking food.

“Ah, sorry, sorry...” Hange trailed over, slinking back into their chair quickly, their demeanor and posture not at all aligning with the formal connotations of their attire and the setting before them. You had straightened in your chair almost immediately, blushing at the fact that someone had witnessed you sharing a somewhat intimate moment with Hange.

The waiter said nothing, only rolling his eyes as he set the tray down upon the table, before turning around to walk away silently.

You scooped some food onto your plate, watching admirably as Hange did the same. Once they had finished, they turned their head up to meet your gaze before smiling.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

This feels bad but oh well lol.

Also sorry this took so long lol I’ve been busy :|

[fangorl-trash]

In the Dark

The Mandalorian x fem!Reader

Summary: you and din have an intimate bonding moment...in the dark.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: SOFT. SHY. MANDO. uhh... slight mentions of a dark past, but it’s vague af, like not even warning worthy BUT JUST IN CASE LOL. curse words. there’s no smut, but if yall want a part 2, lemme know ;) if i forget anything, lemme know lol

A/N: first of all, this gif makes me FEEL things jfc wow i adore din. secondly, hi there lol! this is definitely a self-indulge piece lmao, but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! i can promise there are no season 2 spoilers, cause i’d like to think it takes place between the two seasons. aaaand this was all based off a brainrot hour i had (you can read it here, if you really want!) so...yeah lmao. Enjoy y’all! :)

The night before was just like any other night. Chuckles and giggles and stories whispered and shared back and forth. Hands itching to get closer, to connect wholeheartedly, but never having the courage to do so. The calm before tomorrow’s storm of bounty hunting.

A small, yellow-tinted light above the shared cot illuminated the two. She thought he looked like a guardian angel, the way it shone off of his armor dully. He thought she looked like a goddess, the soft light giving her a halo.

They were hopelessly in love.

Y/N and the Mandalorian. A dynamic duo, of sorts. Two different puzzle pieces from two different puzzle sets, yet they somehow fit together perfectly. She loved him for his tenacity, his fierceness in battle, and his big heart he only showed to her. He loved her for her kindness, her empathy, and the way her eyes sparkled when he came back to the ship after a long day.

They were hopelessly in love with one another, yet neither has said it. Maybe to both of them, saying it was not enough; the actions and moments shared between the two was what truly defined it all. The way he purchased antique books for her to read, because she mentioned it once. The way she grabbed extra blankets from the closet because he got cold at night easily.

The night before was just like any other night. It was calm and quiet and pleasant; almost too pleasant for Din’s liking. In the line of work of a Mandalorian, pleasant never lasted long. But Maker, he swore that time stopped when he saw you that next morning.

When he looked over to see your sleeping form, his breath hitched in his throat. The yellow light above you was dim, but showcased your features brightly and beautifully. You laid on your side, arm tucked under your ear and other hand laid at your side. Your hair fell over your forehead and cheeks.

You looked like a dream.

His gloved hand reached out and tucked a strand or two behind your ear, so he could see his beautiful girl. After all you’ve been through...you were still Y/N and Din. Din and Y/N.

A feeling of gratitude overcame him suddenly as he gazed upon your angelic form. You deserved everything good in this world. The prettiest of jewels, that sparkled in the starlight. The largest of feasts with your favorite intergalactic meals and beverages. Whatever novel that you craved to read next.

He would go to the ends of the galaxy for you. Anything to see that smile.

He prayed everything he did for you was enough, even if it was all so small and minute. You deserved so much better than what he was giving you.

His gratitude took a negative, insecure turn. He knew what you really wanted, what you really deserved that he couldn’t give you: physical love. He can’t kiss you. He can’t hold you. He can’t look in your eyes and tell you how much you meant to him.

He thought of himself as selfish. He wanted all of those things and more. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to look in your eyes, and your eyes only. He wanted to hold you close without beskar separating you. He wanted to feel your skin against his fingertips, because holy fuck, you just look so soft and so fucking warm.

With a soft sigh, his leather-clad fingertips brush down your cheek and over the curve of your arm. Dank farrik...what he would do to hold you. Hold you properly.

Something clicked in his brain all of a sudden. Why is he being such a pussy? He’s THE Mandalorian, for Maker’s sake. He knows just the solution.

~~~

That night, you dreamed of your past life. Before you met Din. Before you both met the Child. Though your dream wasn’t a nightmare, it was still dark and dull. You honestly couldn’t wait until it was all over.

And then you felt lips on the inside of your wrist. Slightly chapped and slightly wet, with small hairs tickling you as well. A gentle hold on your fingers. The kisses slowly trailed up the inside of your forearm, curving against your elbow before continuing their trek up the rest of your arm to your shoulder. It tickles, you thought, shifting under the stranger’s hold.

Your eyes fluttered open with a soft groan. A blanket of pitch black overwhelmed your vision. Panic struck your heart. What in the world is going on right now?

“Good morning,” a voice spoke, breath fanned across your exposed shoulder. Shy, but certain. A low grovel, but not due to a helmet’s voice amplifier.

“D...Din,” you mumbled, fingers grasping his tightly. Your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of...of him. “Wh-What...what’s going on? I-I can’t see.”

He took a pause. “I turned off the lights.” Another pause. “I just...wanted to...”

Even though his voice trailed off, you knew exactly what he wanted to say.

This was new territory for the both of you. Neither of you were scared, per say, but...nervous, cautious. Your voice and your actions matched how you felt. After you sat up and crossed your legs, you reached out with your vacant hand on bated breath. “M-May I?” You requested quietly, hesitatingly. Your eyes scanned about, but you couldn’t find him within the dark ahead of you, even though you were barely a foot apart.

You learned that in certain situations Din’s silence meant yes.

Your fingers made purchase with his bicep, but you backed away just as quickly as you touched him.

Okay, so maybe you were scared. Just a little.

You both sat there silently, slowly counting the moments before one of you made a move. The ship thrummed around you two, but the blacked out bunker was quiet overall. After the bounty hunter released a shallow breath, he lifted the hand that held yours, bringing it to his cheek with a Din-like grace and sureness. A smile stretched both of your lips at the feeling; the feeling of you actually touching. Wholeheartedly Connecting.

His stubble was a pleasant surprise. It felt scratchy under your soft fingertips, but it felt...it all felt like home. Your fingers cupped the back of his neck tenderly, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. His own fingers brushed against your left upper arm and shoulder delicately, feeling your goosebumps rise slowly as he brushes against the strap of your tank top.

You shuffled a bit closer to Din, now in between his open and bent legs. You didn’t know you were holding your breath in until you let it out, shaky and soft. His own breath reached your forehead, delicate and quiet. Your other hand lifted up, hand finding its place on his chest. Once again, you were pleasantly surprised to touch his bare skin; soft and warm to the touch. Your fingertips yearned to travel, and before you could stop your curious thoughts, your middle and ring fingers brushed against a rough scar. It was a jagged, diagonal line, only about three inches in length. Dry, scabbed-over skin, a story untold. You suspected he had battle scars galore, but actually feeling one was...shocking.

The reality of this man’s career suddenly hit you like a shot from a blaster. This man...this man that you loved.

How many of these untold stories were near deaths? How many stories would have ended without Din back in your arms?

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat before your fingers continued their journey, a confident spark behind their actions. They ventured across his beautiful canvas, blindingly mapping out the divets, marks, and bruises of his skin. Your hands gripped and caressed at his shoulders and arms, your fingers brushed against his cheeks and jaw. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and the banging of his heartbeat. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Other than the fingers on your arm, Din remained unmoving under your touch; if he was being honest, he had no clue what to do.

You finally smiled as you felt his hair, fisting tufts of it gently. It was coarse and curly, but you didn’t mind. “What color is it?” Your voice was hoarse, crackling softly in the dark room.

“Brown,” he said after a moment, a small smile of his own. His own fingers made their way up your arm, past your shoulder, and cupped the back of your neck like you did to him. His pointer finger rubbed back and forth in a small motion, a small habit the bounty hunter grew over the months. It was...very different, to feel you under his touch like this. He’s held your hand and stroked your hair and cupped the back of your neck tenderly, but..touching you this way was new territory for the Mandalorian. It was scary, in a way, especially for him.

He ventured on with a brave face.

His other hand found it’s way to your calf, slowly and carefully kneading the skin. You wondered if this was the first time he’s...he’s felt skin since he was a child. You wondered what he was thinking in the moment, if he thought you were beautiful or not. You dismissed those thoughts to the best of your ability. This was your moment, and you’ll be damned if your own brain ruined it. His hand cupped the back of your knee, his whole chest craning down to press a sweet peck to your knee cap. His eyes closed for a brief moment, embracing the feeling of your skin on his lips in the brief moment they were in contact. A shiver ran up your spine; now you remained unmoving, frozen solid by Din’s hot, pillowy lips against your skin. His hand then trailed up the outside of your thigh to your hip. He skirted over your cotton shorts to your waist, gently caressing...you.

He thought you felt enchanting under his touch. You were absolutely perfect. And he loved you so much.

Nerves pierced his heart. His small smile fell. He lifted his hand to cup your other cheek, both of his thumbs brushing along your cheekbones. Your hands stopped in their tracks, the nape of his neck under one palm and his right shoulder under the other. “Can I...may I...”

You didn’t let him finish. The way you leaned in was carefully calculated, nerves an underlying color of it all. Din sat straight-backed, unmoving once again. He was so scared to mess this up for you. I mean...your first kiss shared. He imagined how much that meant to you. It meant a lot to him, too.

You proceeded to lean forward until your lips were pressed against his as your eyes fluttered close. Just as quickly as you two connected, you were apart once again. A small and short kiss, a test for you both. Din leaned forward this time, without anymore hesitation, capturing your lips as he pulled your body into his.

You weren’t surprised Din’s first real kiss was going to be...well...Din-like. Methodical. Purposeful. Caring underneath all of the layers. You were surprised at the fact that Din’s first kiss felt...like destiny. Like this moment was written in prophecies years ago, and it’ll be written in history texts for years to come.

You were surprised because his lips moved against yours like he knew what he was doing.

Your arms found their way wound around his neck, and his wound around your waist. His kiss was patient and sweet and really fuckin’ good. His mustache tickled your top lip, but you didn’t mind one bit.

Right before he pulled away, his cheeks quirked into a smile against your lips before falling to their neutral state.

“I, um...” you began, eyes sparkling in the darkness. You wondered if his baby browns shone the same way, tracing your figure in the darkness. Even though you had so much to say, your voice became stuck, lodged deep in your throat. Tears sprung to your eyes.

He did this for you, didn’t he? He turned off the lights in your guys’ bunker. He took off his helmet. He...he kissed you. Dank farrik, he just kissed you. And he let you touch his hair and his face and...him.

Even though the pair of you weren’t doing anything particularly sexual, every bit of this moment that you shared in the dark felt more intimate and vulnerable than you could ever hope for, dream for, ask for.

The cotton in your mouth expanded slowly, ridding you silent and helpless in the arms of the man you loved. Of the man you would sacrifice everything for. Does he feel the same? Would he do the same for you? A tear tugged down the apple of your cheek as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him tighter. You sniffled softly as his hands caressed your back and hips.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He questions, holding you close to his chest. His right hand rubbed small circles in your back and he sat patiently awaiting your response, but the cotton continued to expand into your mouth.

“I...I, uh...” You begged the cotton to be rid, you prayed for your tongue to move and say the words. The three words that have been dancing around the two of you day and night, for months now, being said over and over again in your mind.

Somehow, Din knew what you were going to say. He was positive you could hear his rapid heartbeat, but if you did, you didn’t show it. He craned his neck down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then, he leaned down to your ear and kissed your lobe, his breath hot against your skin. The lumps in your throat melted away.

“I love you,” you finally said.

The buzzing energy in the bunker seemed to still and quicken all at once. The humming you heard before silenced. Din pulled you closer to his chest, his arms tightening their grip around you. He didn’t say anything for awhile; you were sure he fell back asleep, leaving your confession unheard.

“I love you too,” he said.

You couldn’t see his eyes or his mouth forming the words. But you could feel his love, feel his dedication for you. Under his fingertips, in his arms. It was all love for you. Tears returned to your eyes. You hugged him even tighter, burying your face into his shoulder even more. Anything to bring him closer to you. Anything to feel him more.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours. You actually fell back asleep, filled with more content and love than ever before. Din put you back to bed quietly and carefully, tucking you under the wool blanket you pulled from the closet the night before. He lifted one hand to cup your cheek, craning his neck to plant a lingering kiss on your other.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to get back in his armor. He wanted to lay here, beside you, mask off and lights on. He wanted to see your smile as his eyes reached yours. Responsibility tugged at his heart and his brain. He knew what he had to do, what he was born to do, even if he hated it in this very moment. This is the way.

When you woke up again, you were alone in a dimly lit bunker. A hefty sigh fell past your lips. Maybe it was all a dream. You touched your lips with the pad of your fingers as your eyes fluttered close. You thought to yourself, if it was a dream, then why did his lips feel so real?

You changed into your normal garb and climbed out of the bunker. After lacing up your boots, you climbed the ladder into the cockpit. Like every morning, the Mandalorian was at the helm and the Child was in his designated seat. Din pressed buttons and steered the Razor Crest stoically, and the youngling played with his small metal ball. You approached the child with a smile and a pat to his head, in which he gurgled and grinned at your touch.

You then walked over to the Mandalorian’s right side, boots slowly and softly padding against the metal floor. His head remains forward, even when you place your left hand on his shoulder. Cotton fills your mouth again. What are you even supposed to say?

It takes you a moment before words form on your tongue. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I...I care for you...a lot. I...I love you. And I appreciate you. Thank you.”

His head turns now, looking right at you. You wondered if his baby browns were looking into your eyes right now, calculating what to say and what to do. Din lifts his left, gloved hand to your cheek. Underneath the leather, you can feel his warm, delicate touch that you were able to feel this morning.

“Anything for you, my love.”

[yourelivingwrong]

Distract me, please.

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Dean Winchester x Reader

Fluff, Smut, Friends to lovers

Warnings: graphic injury description, near death experience, swearing,  sex as a coping mechanism? AU where Supernatural characters deal with emotions in a healthier way.

Word count: 4198

Hello, welcome back! Thanks so much again for the reaction to my first fluffy fic (which you can read here), here’s the next:

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“CAS!” you yell as your swing open the door to the bunker. You desperately glance around the map room, and scream louder with desperation in your voice “CAS WE NEED YOU NOW!”

You turn to run back to the Impala but Dean’s already here, staggering up to the doorway with Sam slung over one of his shoulders, blood everywhere, body slack in unconsciousness.

“CAS!” Dean yells in a deep, panicked baritone, but the angel has already entered the room. 

Shock flits across Cas’s face as he takes in the scene before him, and he asks “What happened?” before running up the stairs to help the two of you bring the younger Winchester in safely. 

“Ghoul took a knife to him” you pant as you struggle to manoeuvre Sam down, “We couldn’t shoot it -”

Dean interrupts you, “Can you fix him?” he barks aggressively.

Cas presses his palm to Sam’s forehead “There’s still time,” he confirms “I can heal him”.

Dean takes the brunt of the weight and gets his brother onto the table. Red pools from Sam’s abdomen through the shirt of yours that’s tied tautly across the wound - there’s too much blood, and the only thing keeping you from losing it is the adrenaline, and Dean taking your hand, squeezing it tight, eyes not moving from Sam’s limp body.

Closing his eyes, Cas presses two fingers to Sam’s forehead and a warm light envelops him, seeping through his body. Dean winches as Sam’s body tenses, visibly rising from the table as Cas works his grace. After a moment, it fades, and Sam’s body slowly relaxes. Removing his hand from his forehead, Cas peels the shirt off Sam’s stomach to check the wound: the skin is smooth, untouched. 

“He’s healed” Cas says, looking back at you and Dean. “He’s sleeping, but he’s healed”.

You exhale a loud breathe you hadn’t realised you were holding, letting your head fall back as a wave of relief floods through you. 

“Thank you Cas. Thank you”. you say sincerely, placing a palm on Sam’s shoulder and squeezing it. You can’t bring yourself to think of a life without him in it.

You turn back to face Dean, and see he still hasn’t broken his gaze with his brother’s now sleeping form. His face is somber, stony even, and you know him well enough by now to guess at what he’s feeling: guilt. Your heart breaks for him - you’re all too familiar with Dean’s ever consistent self-blame, and right there in that moment, you commit yourself to an evening of caring for him, now his brother has been taken care of. He needs it. 

“I’ll get Sam to his room,” Cas says with understanding, reading Dean’s face in the same way you are. You smile back at the angel appreciatively, then pinch Dean’s crimson stained sleeve and tug it carefully to get his attention.

“Come on,” you nudge him gently, “Let’s go patch you up”.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The two of you sit in silence in Dean’s room, him on the edge of the bed and you knelt in front of him.

Dean remains still as you ease the flannel off his shoulders and begin to clean the blood from his arms and neck with a wash cloth. It colours the water a dirty shade of red when your rinse it in the bowl at your knees, and once you’re done you move onto taking care of Dean’s own wounds.

He flinches slightly when you run an antiseptic wipe across the graze that runs above his left eyebrow. “Just a little more” you assure him quietly, trying to soothe him. Dean says nothing in response - you know that in some twisted way, he thinks he deserves this pain for failing to protect Sam. Pulling apart a packet from the first aid kit, you delicately smooth a wound closure strip across the mark, using another to secure it. 

“All done,” you announce, balling the empty packaging in your hands and standing to drop it in the basket resting by the door, “I’m just gonna go wash my hands and grab you some tylenol. I'll be right back, okay?”. He nods, but still can’t bring himself to engage with you any more than that.

You smile sadly at him, then duck out his room.

For the first time this evening, you take a minute for yourself. You kick your boots off and leave them by the door, then peel your own over shirt off you and throw it straight in the trash before washing your hands in the bunker’s kitchen until the pink stained water runs clear down the drains, then you scrub your hands hard for an extra few moments to really rid Sam’s blood from your body.

Pulling a cloth from a hook and leaning back on the counter, you process the day and make sure your head is in the right place for the rest of the evening. Almost losing Sam was.. a lot, and you’re glad to have the purpose of caring for Dean for the night. Oh, Dean…

God, being infatuated with Dean Winchester sucked at the best of times, knowing that he could never feel the same way; but it was worse when he was in pain and there was almost nothing you could do to take it away from him. After years of friendship you knew how his self-loathing worked, and you’d slowly been coaxing him out of his toxic-masculinity to feel more comfortable sharing how he was feeling. He was still resistant: you don’t think he’ll ever truly change his ways, but him just allowing you to be with him when he feels at his lowest is huge progress. It made you care for him even more.

You take a deep sigh, shake it off and grab a bottle of painkillers from a cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge, then head back down the Men of Letters corridor to Dean’s bedroom.

You let yourself in, closing the door behind you and crossing the short distance to the bed. Dean accepts the pills with a shaky hand as you sit next to him. His shock is fading, but he swallows them down, and placing a hand on his arm you tentatively ask, “How are you doing?”.

Face still forlorn, Dean shakes his head to himself “I always screw things up”.

“Dean.” you say softly, making sure he meets your eyes. “It wasn’t your fault”.

One tear drops from his eye to run down his cheek, ““If I’d just been there a second earlier…”, he all but whispers, and he crumbles, ducking his head down to hide his face in his chest.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” You murmur as you take him in your arms, one hand cradling his head and the other wrapping around his broad shoulders. “I’ve got you”. 

Despite the progress Dean’s made in opening up, he’s never let you see him like this, gently crying in your arms. You’d think all of you would be used to the near death (or full death) experiences by now, but the fear of seeing those closest to you come that near to never returning is unparalleled each and every time. You hold Dean back tightly, and you realise that you’re needing the comfort almost as much as he is: tonight was a close scare. A really close fucking scare. Dean breathes raggedly into your shoulder as you stroke his back softly, and after a few minutes you can feel him calm down in your arms: he’s stopped shaking, and his breathe is getting steadier.

Moving to run a hand down his face quickly, Dean changes his position to wrap his arms around your waist in return, holding you firm in his arms. From this angle your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you can feel his heart beat against your own chest - you inhale his familiar scent, all aftershave and gunpowder, and the warmth of his body makes your beat race to match his. 

Dean moves his head slightly as if to face towards yours, then seems to change his mind and stay holding you tight. You tenderly turn your head to his to reassure him, assuming he’s holding himself back from saying something, and are taken aback when suddenly you’re face to face with him, only an inch apart.

His nose brushes against yours, and after a second’s pause, Dean softly presses his lips to yours. 

The kiss takes you totally by surprise. To have his gorgeous, pink lips on yours almost renders you stunned - it plants butterflies in your stomach immediately, and for a moment you lose all brain power, able only to relish in the sensation. As soon as you’re compos mentis enough to start kissing back, a little voice in your brain tells you to stop.

“Dean-“ you whisper against his lips, reluctantly pulling away. 

Focused on your lips, he murmurs “I just need to be with you,” before ducking back in for another kiss.

You’re really not sure what’s happening, and dumbly sputter out a question, “Are you sure?” 

His green eyes meet yours, “Distract me Y/N,” he breathes in his husky voice, looking up at you, pleading “Please.”

You resist again, “Dean, honey,” you whisper, gently, “Not that I haven’t wanted this for.. ever, but I feel like I’d be taking advantage-“ he silences you by putting a finger to your lips.

“Please Y/N,” he looks dead into your eyes, “We can talk about it later, I swear. Right now I just need to bury myself in you and forget about it, ok?” he’s being open, and honest - as you gaze back into his eyes, it’s almost as if you can see how much he means it.

You try to process that for a moment before ultimately whispering “Okay”.

Dean responds immediately, threading his fingers into your hair and crushing his lips against yours.

He’s kissing passionately, and almost immediately everything fades away: the room, the evening, the emotions. All that’s left is Dean’s mouth on yours, your body held tight against his and the taste of him on your tongue. A tiny voice in your head recognises this is finally happening, and before you can think it through you’re climbing into his lap, resting a knee either side of his hips and hearing him groan low in his throat at the closer contact. 

His tongue slips in your mouth and even after all your years of imagining, this is more divine than you ever could have fantasied. You mould together, a perfect fit, and when Dean’s hardening cock experimentally rolls up into you a choked sound escapes you that would ordinarily have embarrassed you, if you didn’t see how much it turns Dean on.

“Goddamn Y/N, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long” he moans into your mouth, punctuating the last two words with an another, firmer thrust. Heat is flooding to your lower stomach, and you can feel your panties getting wetter with every moment - you’re desperate for him to be closer, to make you moan under his touch until you can’t take it anymore.

You catch his eye through fluttered lashes, and boldness takes over, “I need to feel you Dean,” you say in breathy pants. He sucks your lower lip beneath his teeth and it bites it gently, growling in response when you moan.

Dean holds your head firmly as he rolls the two of you backwards onto the bed, leaving you now laying side by side, never pausing his needy kisses. He toes his boots off before he moves to hover on top of you, swinging one leg in between yours so that his thigh is pressed right against against your cunt and god, you’ve never been so aware of how frustrating clothes are.

Luckily, he’s reading your thoughts, and he steadily unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down your thighs. He barely breaks the kiss, and when they bunch around your ankles you help him out by kicking them off, leaving you in just your thin, black panties.

Dean runs a warm, rough hand down your side and pulls back just enough to watch you tremble at the touch. He trails his fingers across your thighs, touching everywhere except where you need him most and you whine in frustration.

“I’ve been wondering how sweet you taste for a while now darlin’,” he confesses into your lips, taking two fingers to run a delicate trail up the centre of your panties and making you buck up and gasp, “And I’m not about to hold back any longer”. 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips and moves down your body, trailing more kisses down your torso as he goes. When he reaches your panties, he hooks a thumb under the fabric either side and pulls them from under your ass, leaving you bare to him, your wetness already pooling.

“God you are so beautiful” he says under his breathe, sounding like he’s saying it more to himself than he is to you. Your heart swells, then he leans in almost all the way - his warm breathe dances over your pussy and the anticipation of him finally touching you is almost too much. 

He licks one stripe up your clit, unable to hold himself back and you inhale sharply, fire spiking through your body. Dean settles himself comfy on his chest, then snakes his arms up around your hips to pull you to his waiting mouth.

His mouth at your pussy is… unreal.  He’s attentive, literally feeling you out and observing your reactions to assess what really gives you as much pleasure as possible and it’s making you lightheaded. When he presses his mouth fully to you, giving your clit a sloppy kiss and dragging his tongue slowly up from your dripping cunt your back keens off the bed and you make a high pitched whine unlike any sound you’ve ever made before, feeling as if you’ve died and gone to heaven. Dean smirks into you, repeating the action to bring you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You desperately raise a head to look down your body at Dean eating your pussy, and the sight you’re met with is without doubt the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed: his eyes are closed, eyebrows tight and raised at the centre in pleasure as he devours your pussy. His chin is glistening in your wetness, and he’s softly rutting his cock against the mattress, genuinely loving every minute of eating you out.

“Damn sweetheart, you taste so good” he mumbles into your centre, curling his tongue inside you in a way you didn’t think was possible. You collapse back on the bed, reaching down to desperately hold his head while your eyes flutter shut, your orgasm already fast approaching.

You stutter “Dean, fuck - I’m c-lose already"

His hands grip your thighs ever tighter at your words, and he becomes frantic, “Give it to me princess,” he growls, voice muffled as his mouth works desperately at bringing you over the edge.

You’re not usually one for terms of endearment but there’s something about how the pet name drips off Dean’s tongue that, combined with his tongue at your pussy and his lips suckling on your clit, sends you spinning over the edge and coming hard with a ungodly moan. You see stars behind your eyelids as your orgasm floods your body, your hands twisting into Dean’s dirty blonde hair and riding it all out on his face.

Dean watches you with dark eyes as you fall apart, soaking in every inch of you and licking you through it as your writhe on his tongue until your legs are shaking and your thighs are closing, forcing him away from you. You shudder in the wake of your orgasm, struggling to catch your breath as he kisses your thighs and up your body until he’s face to face with you once more.

“Fuck me Y/N, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dean groans, lunging forward for a hard kiss. You taste yourself on his him, and reel at how sensual it is as his body presses back firm against yours. Your hands reach blindly to pull take his shirt off, and once he’s thrown it from the bed you wrap your arms around him and roll him onto his back. You kiss,

then begin to slowly move down his body.

“Woah sweetheart,” he says sincerely, beginning to raise himself up on his elbows, “I’m really not expecting you to do that for me,”

“You really think you’re the only one who’s been dreaming of how you taste?” you quip with a small smirk, pressing one hand flat against his chest to lower him back down. You struggle with his belt buckle and he quickly intervenes to undo it and his fly, so eager for you, and you can tug his pants down to reveal his muscular thighs, perfectly framing the thick cock straining against his boxers.

You’re a little taken aback - he’s bigger, and thicker than you were expecting. You almost tentatively reach out to free him from his underwear, and swallow when you see him bare in front of you. Dean’s cock is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and even after your orgasm you feel your pussy ache with need for it. Wrapping a hand around the base, you hold him as you lick one slow, teasing stroke up his length, barely even making contact with his warm, throbbing skin. 

Dean throws his head back in response, biting his lip as you smirk and repeat the action, looking up at him with hooded eyes, “Son of a bitch Y/N, you’re driving me crazy” he moans, looking back. You smirk at his reaction, then in one fluid motion take him into your mouth and swallow him down until he’s hitting the back of your throat.

It knock’s the wind out of him and he gasps, one hand reaching out to grab at your arm as you begin bobbing your head up and down, focusing hard on keeping your throat as open for him as possible. It takes him a moment to be able to react, and by the time you’re coming up for air panting he’s desperately gathering your hair in his fist to hold back before you sink back down his length.

His cock is heavy against your tongue, and you swirl it as far round his length as your can, hollowing your cheeks, so desperate to make him feel so damn good. You sink lower again, eyes watering as you concentrate on taking him as deep as you can but suddenly Dean pulls you off his cock with a satisfying pop, leaving you whining in protest. 

“God Y/N I want so bad to fuck your throat until my cum is spilling from your pretty lips, but I gotta be inside that warm pussy of yours, and that’s not gonna happen if you keep going like that” he grunts, pulling you up the bed roughly and pushing you onto your back.

Your head falls at the foot of the bed and he leans to fumble through his bedside drawer for a condom, and you take the opportunity to rid yourself of your vest and bra. His eyes rake over you in lust as he spreads your legs open to hug his hips, pumping his cock and shifting up on his knees to line himself up to your pussy. The strength he used to move your body has made you that much wetter, your desire for him to fuck you almost desperate.

Cock firm in his hand, Dean moves in and brushes his tip against your wet folds making your breath hitch in your throat at the sensation. You’re definitely desperate now, and you rock your hips up so that his head drags along your pussy, melting at how exquisite it feels.

“Gonna make you feel so good Y/N..” he mutters just before he slowly enters you.

Your jaw falls open as Dean’s cock fills you up inch by delicious inch, his pace devilishly slow as you stretch to accommodate him. He feels impossibly bigger inside you than he did in your mouth, all your senses are alive and everything is Dean, Dean, Dean. Once he’s full seated inside you, he whistles a breath out through pursed lips and whispers “god fucking damn”.

Already he’s slowly pulling himself out, and when just his tip is inside you he drops his torso down to lean over you, then looks you in the eye. Your lips meet for one desperate needy kiss, then he snaps his hips back up into you and buries his cock home in one thrust making you scream out in pure pleasure.

Dean sets an unforgiving pace immediately, gripping your hips as your legs drape over his thighs and you’re vaguely aware that you’re chanting a series of please, yes, fuck, Dean, more, so fucking good…. Your words spur him on, and his cock swells at seeing you so undone under his touch, all his, moaning and panting just for him. He runs his palms up your sides to cup your tits, bouncing with his thrusts and he bites his lip, cursing loudly.

Your bodies aren’t close enough, and Dean pulls you up abruptly, bringing you flush against his body as he moves with you. He’s is all hands, clutching onto you and grabbing at your head as he thrusts up into your sweet pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt, his cock dragging over that sweet spot inside you with a relentless intensity. You claw at his back, definitely leaving scratch marks and suddenly it’s all becoming too much - you can feel another orgasm looming.

“God Dean don’t s-stop, fuck I’m gonna come” you whine, voice stammering as he fucks up into you.

“Come with me baby- fuck, come with me” he grunts, his brow screwed up as he tries to hold on to let you finish first, “Come around my fucking cock,” he begs.

The band snaps and you fall apart, your pussy fluttering around Dean as you call his name out in what sounds like a sob.

“Jesus fuck Y/N, goddamn” he all but growls, his hips staggering as he shoots his load inside you. You have never, ever come this hard, and he pulses his cock inside you even while he’s coming to drag your high out for as long as possible.

You cling onto each other as you ride your orgasms out, half out of fear of passing out at the intensity of it all. You collapse back on each other, sweat slick skin on sweat slick skin and for a moment, all you can do is just stay on Dean’s chest, panting and regathering yourself as the two of you lie there, entangled in each other.

Dean breaks the silence after a couple of moments: “Holy fucking shit” he says, with a small laugh, hand resting on the small of your back.

“That’s what I was about to say” you chuckle back between pants, breath still stabilising.

Dean kisses the top of your head, gently pulls himself out of you and discreetly discards his condom, immediately leaning back to tuck you into his arms. Your pussy is still pulsing, and you bask in the aftershocks of your orgasms as Dean presses kisses to your head.

“Let’s get some sleep” he murmurs, shifting you so that your back is flush against his warm chest. He envelopes you, and you feel contentment radiating off of you. There’s silence, and you almost think Dean has fallen asleep until he clears his throat softly.

“Thank you, Y/N” he says sincerely.

His words hang in the air for a moment before you respond. “Always” you whisper.

Dean hesitates for a moment, uncertainty wavering, then whispers low, almost under his own breath:“I love you”.

It’s confessed so quietly, so fearfully, that you almost don’t catch it. Your heart is pounding, and you gently turn onto your back, moving to look him in the eye. The fluttering in your stomach feel like it’s going to explode out of you as you whisper back, “I love you too Dean.”

You move together in synchronicity to kiss - a new kiss, delicate, almost chaste and full of deeper meaning. Dean cups your jaw lightly in one hand, and the tenderness of it makes your heart surge with love. You’re so excited to wake up and have this night be real come the morning.

“Rest now”, you say against his lips, taking a hand to stroke his hair. He nestles into you, arms wrapped around your waist and holding you tight. 

You hold Dean, running your fingers softly through his scalp until he drifts into a peaceful sleep. A small smile is fixed on your face as you watch him, and it’s not long until you succumb to a deep sleep as well.

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This one just kept on adding to itself - phew. I’m gonna need a minute.

Thanks to my gorgeous Supernatural tag list: @deandreamernp​ @eunomiasloane​

Let me know if you’d like to be added!

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[biderboy]

I Miss You || P.P + The Marauders

description- peter reminisces in what he had before the war

tw - mention of death, violence, and abuse

-

November 3rd, 1981

peter laid on his back, staring at the old, battered ceiling above him. there were rips and tears, holes covering most it.

he was alone, not that surprising. he’d been alone for awhile now, even before that night.

he winced, closing his eyes before the tears had a chance to surface.

it’s been 3 days.

he could remember the way james’ eyes filled with regret, swirling with the disappointment he no doubt felt the moment he caught peter’s eyes.

he could remember the way he frantically deserved for his wand, but peter knew it was too late, james’ wand laid heavy in his pocket, and peter’s hands shook as he watched his best friend call out to the love of his life, his dying breath begging them to run.

peter winced, he didn’t deserve to call james his best friend, not after what he did.

but he could remember the sickening sound of james’ body hitting the floor, he remembers the flash of light, the laughs surrounding him as his blood rushed to his ears and he struggled to breathe, as if he was the one hit with the killing curse.

and when he walked past, james was clutching onto a necklace he was wearing. peter had to will the tears out of his eyes, that was their necklace.

each marauder had one, a necklace enchanted with their magic, just like the map, so none of them were ever alone.

even remembering it now, peter felt a tear fall from his face. james died clutching that necklace, and peter didn’t even deserve to be thinking of him.

peter didn’t deserve to be thinking about any of them, yet for the past 3 days it was all he could do.

sit in this room, in some abandoned house in the woods, laying on this bed, holding onto a pillow as if it was a life source.

he hadn’t eaten, or drank anything really. he figured he didn’t deserve it, a slow, painful death would be the closest to what he did deserve.

all he’d done was sit and think. he hadn’t let himself cry, or make any noise. but he wanted to, he desperately wanted to. he anted to rip the house apart around him, he wanted to scream until the gods brought james back, he wanted to scratch at the mark on his arm, he wanted to yell for someone to hold a wand to his throat, or at the very least, knock some of his teeth in.

he wanted to break and break and never stop breaking.

the deaths may have not come from his wand, but the blood was still on his hands.

not that the world knew that, no, they thought sirius had done it. sirius black, of all people. sickening, for them to think he’d ever be as low as peter.

peter could remember him too, the way his hands shook and his teeth gritted as his gripped his wand so tight his fingers turned white. he remembered sirius running, tears streaming down his face with cries of “why?” and “how could you?” falling from his lips.

peter wishes he had an answer for him, he wishes he knew.

but in reality he had no reason, he was not tortured, he was not manipulated, nobody was held hostage, nothing. he just did it.

and peter reckons that’s the worst part.

most people have a reason, most people have a story, a loss, something to fight for. and yet peter did not.

he reckons that makes him the worst kind of monster.

he held the pillow a little tighter, breath picking up in his chest.

remus, oh remus.

remus was on a mission, he very well was probably still on that mission.

what would he do? will someone send him a letter? or will dumbledore visit him himself?

will remus be okay? james and sirius, both gone. remus will break down. remus will claw at his skin, throw himself at walls, let himself be used as a rag doll. remus will spend full moons alone again.

peter’s heart stopped.

remus would be alone. remus will get hurt. remus’ wolf won’t know what to do, it’ll rip him apart. remus won’t be able to patch himself up, he won’t be able to get help. remus might just let his wolf ruin him. remus might die too.

“no, no, no.” peter whimpered, shaking his head, breath becoming quicker.

‘sirius will die too’ a voice whispered back to him, and peter squeezed his eyes tighter, willing the bad thoughts to go away, just for one moment.

they can’t die, they can’t. peter doesn’t want them to die, peter didn’t mean for them to die. he was suppose to save them, they can’t die.

peter was pushed back into memories he wished he could forget, but desperately clung onto.

i. peter could feel the blood rushing to his head, could feel his own heart racing to get out of his chest. it was too loud, there was too many people, their magic was overwhelming.

peter wanted to cry, he felt the tears swelling in his eyes. he just wanted to go home.

he gasped as he felt a hand slip in his, turning to his right, he saw a flash of a smile so bright it rivaled the suns, long black hair, blue eyes, sirius.

he tugged on his hand, leading peter away from the crowded common room, into the quiet, safe place of their dorm. leading peter to sit on james’ bed before crouching in front of him.

“pete? are you alright?” his soft voice carried through the room, past the blood clouding peter’s ears, rushing through his body like a deep breath of relief, to have something to familiar.

peter tried to nod, tried to tell him he was okay, he was fine. but his body wouldn’t listen, and instead the overwhelming pressure of the entire day crushed him, letting the tears he’d been so desperately trying to keep at bay, fall.

sirius was quick, eyes scanning to make sure peter wasn’t hurt, before gently pulling the 15 year old to his chest, combing his finger through his hair as he hummed a tune peter could not make out.

peters hands came to clutch at sirius jacket, gripping tightly like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the earth, and letting it swallow him whole.

sirius was patient, letting peter cling to him, letting him cry, and he just sat there, holding him together, softly singing.

sirius was always this soft, this gentle, with peter. he cared like an older brother, wiping his tears, promising him it would be okay, swearing not to leave his side. sirius always said what peter needed to hear, sirius was always there when peter was overwhelmed.

now was no different, as he pulled away, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from peters face.

“would you like to take a nap?” he asked gently, gesturing to the giant pile of blankets james’ kept on his bed. sirius did not question if peter was okay, he knew he wasn’t, or if he wanted to talk, he knew he didn’t.

peter nodded, scooting up on the bed, letting himself be wrapped in a blanket that smelled too much like james, but was glad for the familiar comfort. and managed to smile when sirius plopped next to him, his won blanket wrapped around him.

and sirius just stayed there, gently humming that same song, letting peter bask in the presence of not being alone, as long as he needed.

no words needed to be said, peter eventually drifted off to sleep, welcoming the comfort sirius radiated, like the stars on the darkest nights.

and when peter woke up, sirius was still there, reading some muggle book he got, and peter realized then that sirius wouldn’t leave him. that sirius was his brother. that sirius loved him.

ii. peter hated eating alone. it reminded him of his house, how he’d sit at the kitchen table hearing his parents argue, forcing himself to finish the food in front of him so he could go back to his room.

he hated being alone in general, but especially when he was eating. but james had quidditch practice, and sirius was in detention, so he sat down for dinner alone.

granted there was other gryffindors, lily evans was just a few spots down, marlene was with her as well, but he wasn’t that close to them, he didn’t feel safe with them.

peter picked at his food, moving it around with his fork as he felt a sickening feeling wash over him, he hated it. maybe he’d take the food back to the dorm, atleast he’d be in his bed rather than surrounded by people who didn’t notice him.

yet, before he could make a move, someone say down in front of him. peter made a move to look up, eyes going over the tan sweater, landing on a scar ridden face he’d never been happier to see.

“moony” he breathed out, relief washing over him as remus gave him his signature small smile.

“hiya peter, you left without me.” his soft voice carried over the great hall, making peter feel better, safe.

remus was there, casually keeping conversation about the astronomy homework. he kept eye contact with peter, making him feel like the rest of the world dimmed out, and it was just the small safe bubble of friendship, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

especially when remus offered an extra roll, eyes slighlty crinkled around the edges as he smiled. it reminded peter of home, not of the yelling and old rooms, not of the way he mother looked at him durning the summer.

no, it reminded him of laughs shared under stars light, of guitar strings playing loudly in common rooms, of lollipops and chocolate frogs, of train rides and quidditch games.

remus reminded him of home, the home he had here. the one that kept him safe, kept him loved, the home he had built with the marauders. the home they all deserved.

iii. james potter was the human embodiment of the sun, peter was well aware. the same way sirius was the stars, and remus was the moon.

james was always there, even when peter was a kid. to open his arms and welcome him to the light, make sure he was safe.

james was always there, for as long as peter could remember, and he was there every time he needed him.

peter felt his body want to give in as he stepped onto the platform, he mother hadn’t sent him off, not that she genuinely had in years, but she didn’t even bother this year. a push out the door, a threat to try and come back, and that was all.

peter was tired, emotionally, physically. he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get on that train, rather just take whatever he had in his trunk and run off to some muggle town he’d finally be at peace in.

and he was debating, it was their last year at hogwarts, he didn’t need to be there, not really. the war was raging on, the classes he’d take wouldn’t even matter if he died after one step into the real wizarding world.

and plus, the marauders would be fine without him, he thought bitterly. the sun, the moon, the stars. there was no room for him, and that was fine. it was okay, they all looked so happy together, they belonged. he was happy for them, it’s all he ever wanted.

peter went to go turn around, to really leave, when he heard it. a shout, so distinctive it made his heart race and his head turn around.

“PETE!”, and there he was, the sun himself, arms spread wide, giant smile on his face. his trunk was thrown carelessly beside him, as james stated to walk towards peter.

and almost as if james knew, as if he could take one look at peter and tell, he wrapped his arms around him, engulfing him in the warmest, most secure hug he’d had in months.

“missed you peter, you didn’t visit this summer.” there was almost a pout in his voice that made peter stifle a laugh, letting himself be squeezed against the boy tighter, letting his own arms wrap around james and practically melt into the affection.

“sorry” he mumbled, burying his face in james’ chest, eyes closed to prevent tears from falling, what a baby, he thought.

“‘s okay, just not the same without you.” and that, james always knew what to say. what to do. peter felt like he didn’t belong, like he was floating away, but james pulled him back to the ground, every time.

peter wanted to cry, feeling at home with his best friend. he couldn’t imagine why he thought he could do it without him, without them. because here, now, waiting for remus and sirius on the platform, peter finally let himself breathe, let himself feel.

and he felt like he belonged.

tears were finally falling, as peter grasped righting to the pillow, burying his face into it as if it would stop the sobs that raked his body.

it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t.

flashes of smiles and warm hands, star nights and study groups, flying and crashing muggle towns went through his head.

he tried to shake them out, make them stop. he didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think about what he had, what he ruined.

but his brain never listened, and the universe was no longer on his side.

as he thought, without the sun, without the moon, without the stars, the universe was nothing. without them, peter was nothing.

a horrid sob ripped from his throat, his whole body shook, it was cold, but he deserved it.

his hands desperately grabbed into his own necklace, ripping it off his chest and throwing it across the room, a dull thump making its way to his ears.

“i miss you.” he sobbed, as if it would bring them back, as if it would take him back in time, to when remus would wipe his tears, and sirius would read out loud, and james would rush into a hug.

but it didn’t, and it never would.

“i miss you.”