#like. it's basically the same as giants trying to reach a tiny and such

[st4rryyynight]

★me when urh. me when g/t in non-g/t horror games. me whe—★

cw: scopophobia, hands, mild blood

[naffeclipse]

Petal

Botanist!Reader x Naga!Eclipse

Commission Info

This little fic was such a delight to write and I'm so happy @bluemoon1331 commissioned me for some good ol' Blackwater Lure (naga) Eclipse. Toss in a botanist reader to pair with this handsome snake and you have quite the pairing and a little smooching in the jungle!

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You swat a buzzing insect swirling around your ear before huffing. The humidity is thick like rain but not a drop falls from the blue-white sky in the middle of a bright, brilliant day. The green canopy overhead provides mottled shade. Despite this, a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your forehead. Swiping underneath the stiff brim of your boonie hat, you draw in another sweltering lungful before pressing down on the camera button to finish capturing a picture of a brilliant cluster of heliconia flowers. The picture is basic, but you only need one for reference in your study.

Common and brightly colored, the bracts of the flower form a beak-like shape which are often called lobster claws. You prefer the name heliconia. It’s far more fitting for the stunning, tropical blossom. 

The deep green stem stands tall and sprouts the flowers high, allowing you to stay standing on your feet as you sweep your camera aside and reach for your notebook. The pages are rimmed with your observations and small, simple sketches of each flora you have studied throughout your stay here in the jungle. Michael and Vanessa seem to appreciate your craft though don’t pursue the same interests. Their place here on the fridges of the wild, feral jungle is a fleeing mystery, but you hope they’re enjoying the beautiful, lush ecosystem as much as you are.

You lift your head at the sound of a steady hum whizzing through the air. A tiny creature floats, its wings blurring with the speed of its flight, and dips low to sip at the nectar of the heliconia. A smile spreads softly over your lips. 

Hummingbirds are drawn to the sweet taste of this flowering plant. The small fowl’s feathers shine with an iridescent blue and green. Another flit by. This one pauses just long enough for you to spy its ruby throat. You lower your book for just a moment. Sometimes you get lost in your botany—unable to see the flowers for the petals—but now and then a creature who loves the plants as you do gives a gentle reminder to admire the brilliant red and deep green colors for a moment. 

Another hummingbird with a wonderfully rare purple sheen and gray body buzzes over to a nest. You jot down a gentle note of what the flower attracts as well as its pollinators. The ink needs a moment to try and stick to the thick paper. Your book is about to overflow, with a few pages left spared but not for too long. There are still giant lily pads you wish to observe upon the water and passion flowers high up in the canopy that you must find a way to climb up to. 

You lower your notebook and pause for a moment. It’s strange. You’ve been here for the better half of the morning and haven’t had any interruptions. This is the most research you’ve done in a good while. 

Taking the blessing for what it is, you bow your head and scribble more, noting the bright color and how it thrives upon the jungle soil. There is nothing richer on earth but this Amazonian floor. The most abundant resources of natural, green goods are right before you and you get to observe each flora up close.

You lift your head again. The heliconia is abundant and red, a few tipped in yellow and a rare, stray stem has a tinge of blue to their edges. Beautiful. You step closer, wondering what genetics carried this special trait into this patch of bright reds. Was it cross-pollinated or did a seed get laid here from another stretch of open, flowering land?

The silence settles over you after a moment. Sweeping over the heliconia, you realize the hummingbirds scattered, silent, and swift, leaving you in a heavy quiet. Even distant birds calling and chirping have calmed. The unnatural hush of an otherwise thriving jungle touches you with a warning. 

Your heart stops in your chest.

Your poor notebook drops from your hands, pages, and pen falling. Pointing your feet away from the patch of heliconia, you fail to take a single step before a soft hiss cuts through the air. You cry out as a strike of a lithe, long arms seizes you from behind and a powerful tail sweeps around your legs. A sharp gasp rips from your throat. In a moment of your world spinning, you’re pulled forcibly into a constricting embrace. 

It takes mere seconds. A tail of green scales, dotted with black, quickly twists you into its coils before a soft hum echoes. You fight the urge to squirm as the thick, corded muscle climbs up your legs, locking them together before winding around your waist. Orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, serpentine form cages you within his grasp. Your arms are, unfortunately, caught in the naga’s constriction. You tug on them experimentally but only receive an answering squeeze in return, your ribs tested for a mere moment. A breath slips away from you.

“Happy day, petal.”

You lift your eyes from your trapped body to face the one enforcing your precarious position. Eclipse. The naga hovers over you, balancing on his tail while keeping you in place. The length of his body is utterly incredible. Ropes of thick, powerful muscle spread across the jungle floor and neatly spiral around you, all while leaving enough to support his humanoid torso. 

You try to shift, to find a little more breathing room, but the naga decides to recline you back instead, setting you into an unsettling position where he can creep up his coils to admire you up close. His fangs flash in a ravenous grin. His venom glistens on the razor-sharp tips before he swipes them away with his dark, slender tongue.

“H-hi, Eclipse,” you answer in a rattle. Yet, a smile manages to work its way onto your lips. “Did you have to startle me?”

“I thought you would know it’s me saying hello. Who else would catch you like this?” he rumbles low and deep and the sound vibrates through your own body. You clench your teeth just to keep them from chattering.

He tilts his head as if he finds you adorable—or appetizing. The frills decorating him are as bright as any jungle flower, orange-yellow, and almost hypnotic in the gradient hues. Slitted pupils observe you in the way you might have just been studying the heliconia, interest keen and desirous.

A nervous sound leaves you, somewhere between amusement and fear. “You can say hello without catching me next time,” you offer. “It would be less… frightening.”

His coils shift around you slowly as if tempted by the thought of squeezing until your lungs can’t expand anymore. You glance briefly down to see what his tail may do next.

“Are you frightened right now, petal?” A clawed hand hooks your chin. Eclipse lifts your face to hold your gaze. You swallow back a few mouthfuls of apprehension. A pulse in your arm presses back against the thick serpentine body. You hope he can’t feel it.

You know he does.

“No,” you answer, then truthfully, “not anymore.”

He hums thoughtfully. The sound echoes with a hissing undertone and gradually softens. His eyes survey you with slitted pupils, one a midnight blue, the other deep emerald, even darker than his scales.

“I agree. I’ve held many prey in my coils but you don’t struggle like them. They bite and claw and cry out,” he answers, drawing it out with a slithering sound that spills heat into your core. “But you; you resist little. You’re as soft as fruit in my palms. You’re deliciously small.”

He lifts out his other hand and slowly tilts your hat up and up until it falls away, stumbling down his coils to lie flat by your notebook and pen. The very breath within you catches as he turns his hand and runs the back of his crooked finger down your cheek, admiring you closely. You lean away on instinct but the snare of his scales gives you little room to escape. Softly, he reaches up and strokes your head. His claws comb down your hair. His tongue flicks out so close to your nose, you wonder if he intends to lick you.

“Although there is one aspect you carry with the rest of my prey,” he simpers. He leans close enough that his fangs glisten in the mottled sunlight. “You look good enough to eat.”

The tempo of your heart rate becomes a beating drum within you. 

“What do you eat?” you ask breathlessly, as if you could stall his hunger.

“Oh, whatever trots my way,” he slips a claw over the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, much to his delight. His coils cinch around you tighter in what you suspect is a desire to feel every shuddering muscle within you. Your cheeks burn.

“Like?” you prod, trying to regain control of your racing pulse but failing miserably. 

He flashes a sinister smile and a drop of venom slips into his saliva before he licks it away.

“Monkeys are fine for a meal. Jaguars are a delicacy that I’ll indulge in when I have the chance. If I’m in the mood to work up my appetite, I’ll hunt black caiman. Otherwise, I’ll dine on a giant otter.” He watches you closer as you comprehend the strength of his ability to target other predators. Truly, nothing can stop him if he so desires. 

You’ve learned much about Eclipse in the short time you’ve encountered him—or rather, he’s stalked and caught you. He is the apex predator of this ecosystem. He glides between the trees and turns into mottled shadows under the dense canopy and possesses a head as brilliant as any blossom. You do not know the animal kingdom as well as your flora, but you know he is the king within this jungle.

And he favors you, somehow. Though he has played with you like a cat with a mouse, he has never delivered a venomous bite with his wicked fangs or squeezed you until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You don’t know what to name this obsession he holds for you but it’s enough to spare your life. It’s enough to convince you that he cares for you. 

A nice theory you’ve come to consider is that you are in the safest place in the jungle right now, protected by the apex predator’s serpentine body. It’s enough to make your heart soften whenever he wraps you tight in his tail. After the initial shock has worn away, of course.

“I imagine they, ahem, taste fine,” you say, though your tongue is a bit dry.

“Such meals hold a very excellent taste, but I prefer a new flavor as of late,” a low rumble moves through him. 

You swallow roughly. His eyes catch the motion, dropping down to your throat where it bobs before his grin seems to sharpen. His fangs lie on full display.

He tilts your head back slightly, allowing sunlight to brighten your face. “Now I want to know more about what you’ve been up to, petal. What are you studying today?”

“Heliconia,” you answer. He captures you in his intense gaze. You nearly wish you could look away just to concentrate on forming words on your tongue. “The, ah, scientific name is heliconia latispatha, but it’s sometimes called lobsterclaw.”

“Say that again,” he commands.

You almost spit out ‘lobsterclaw’ but catch your mistake before you can simmer in embarrassment. In a steady voice, you repeat, “Heliconia latispatha.”

His eyes close briefly, sealing away the jewel-dark colors of his gaze. For a moment, you study him, fascinated by how he tilts his head as if turning an ear towards you.

“Beautiful,” he hisses softly. His eyes open, slitted pupils thinning in the brightness of the day before he nods. “Tell me more.”

You sputter once before continuing into details about their relationship with hummingbirds. Eclipse lets you spill into a monologue. His attention never lapses as you so often find in those who ask about your botany studies only to realize you are giving them an accurate answer, not a simple and inadequate one-note description. You can almost forget that you can’t move your limbs while falling into a ramble of your studies.

While you speak, his coils keep you cool. His smooth, sleek scales effortlessly ease your sweating while slowly shifting around you, occasionally squeezing as if grasping your hand to remind you that he is here, listening. His tongue flickers out once while he traces your jawline and even your lips when you tell of hoping to locate giant lily pads.

“I will take you to see them,” he says after you pause. Your eyes widen. He grins as his claws slip along your temple, trailing your hairline. 

“Really?” you breathe. You’ve been searching for them for so long—even Michael and Vanessa reported that they have stumbled upon many yet in their travels around the jungle.

“Of course.” Eclipse’s simper deepens while he lets his hand fall to cup your cheek. “Anything is yours. You must only say the word, my favorite flower.”

Your lips part but no sound falls out of your mouth. Eclipse’s eyes drink you in as you wriggle in the slightest, unable to contain your eagerness despite how tightly you are held. His tail moves in answer. Scales shift you towards him as Eclipse leans over you, closing the distance.

“Eclipse.” Your mouth finally moves. His name fills it. He stirs, his thin eyelids fluttering briefly as ripples of muscle fall down his tail.

“Say that again,” he commands.

Your throat bobs before you shift your shoulders. His hands fall to the neckline of your shirt, tugging on it slightly to expose your collarbone.

“Eclipse.” Your cheeks heat with a red as bright as the heliconia. 

“Petal,” he hisses gently, “You’re so sweet and precious. Like nectar. I want to taste you.”

Oh.

You want to say something, that you are not nectar but a very simple, boring human, but you aren’t sure if that’s the right thing to say in the face of a predator who lies inches away from your mouth. He draws his hand under your shirt and palms your shoulder, covering your shoulder blade. He tilts your head up. A soft gasp escapes you when he squeezes you softly, and then as if stealing your air, he captures your mouth. He pushes gently, tasting your lips and grazing them with his slick fangs. Quiet sounds escape you, your hands clenching and your knees rubbing together, unable to take his face in your hands and hold him in return. It’s almost maddening. Almost.

A low hiss breaks the kiss as he draws back. His gaze, despite his serpentine aspects, is soft and glowy. You spin slowly after the contact like you were on your feet one moment and lifted off them the next.

“Perhaps we might find a lily as pink as your cheeks,” he murmurs, much to your embarrassment. His smile is devilish but his tongue slowly traces your cheekbone, and you close your eyes.

You hope so, silently, for such a flower.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

It's episode 4 If I Can't Reach You / Let My Song Teach You, time for two of my favorite things: glam rock and homosexuals. which are basically the same thing if you think about it.

she's like damn, billy, that was ruthless. honestly this is going to make her care about billy even more, not only he's powerful, not only he reminds her of nicky. now he's a murderer too?? perfect son is perfect. I love how she's studying sharon's body with her detective Agnes face, her mind is going a million miles a minute

her third-wall-break winks destroy me. and that poor hairdo. all gone expect for the giant turd on top.

alice being truly and genuinely sorry about sharon. lilia and jen being gossiping hags

agatha honey you're so dainty and feminine, look at you. and that's an interesting and not at all painful tree shape you picked. (I would have never noticed any of this without brightening the scene, it's outrageous. everyone involved in this show is amazing except the lighting department. shame on you lighting department)

whatever alice does openly and sincerely, agatha does secretly or as a joke. parallels, parallels

jen is like, can you believe this bitch

without being asked, alice goes to help digging the grave

that is the idiot I fell in love with and I'm way past regretting my choices at this point!! I know how rio feels now

"coven two" is one of those lines that make you laugh on first view and shreds your heart in a million tiny pieces at every following rewatch. this show HAS to be watched at least twice, don't ever trust reviews or complaints by ppl who didn't, because they missed at least half of what makes it great.

a clown running from the tragic truth that her son wrote the Ballad, making sad clown noises all over the Road

when alice is called to referee as the Resident Ballad Expert and agatha looks at her expectantly hands in pockets, somehow extremely obnoxious, extremely gay and extremely sad at the same time

alice is SO above bickering. jen is being a baby because she's mad at agatha, lilia is being a baby cause she's grumpy and a contrarian, billy is sixteen, agatha is, well, agatha. alice is the only adult in the building

just one, huh? that's fine. that's fine. who needs a heart anyway.

the common gypsophila or baby's breath symbolizes sincerity, purity, innocence. does it symbolizes sharon? or is billy leaving it on her grave a metaphor for his naivety and good intentions gone wrong?

billy's romantic ideals of what it means to be in a coven have just been shattered. he set out, consciously or not, to teach something to these witches and of course it didn't work. he is the one who needs guidance, he is the one who's making a mess of things. he's just a kid.

agatha going !! when billy says he wishes he could go home. agatha covertly pointing out that he has a replacement body and she would really like to know how. she's observing him so closely, trying to puzzle out the mystery. exactly like she did with wanda inside the Hex. not revealing her cards just yet, testing and manipulating him. when that strategy blew up in her face so spectacularly the first time! she's so smart and so reckless it makes her practically an idiot

case in point: she's making up stupid rules trying to manipulate billy into shaping the Road the way she wants. that's right, agatha. let's summon another poor victim you can siphon, wonder who's gonna show up! (and she KNEW sharon was laying dead ten feet away and SOMEONE was bound to be in the neighborhood. dumbass.)

aww he's so proud of himself for having brought the spellbook. he's being helpful! he's made his four moms happy!

check, debatable, check

debatable and debatable

I'm gonna give that one a BIG check

yes I know advil spells "vidal", thank you tumblr for letting me know that one. also same, alice.

'esse viridis non es facile' IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! oh I knew my high school latin was bound to come in handy at least once in my life

(by the way the set + costumes combo is giving me such hocus pocus vibes, but you could never tell because the SCENE IS SO FUCKING DARK) (NO I WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT IT)

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH

I mean girls, you chose to follow the head clown, you have to travel in the clown car. that's on you.

WHY IS THE PRINT SO SMALL???? I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

admit it we all wished it was sharon for a moment

oh?? is that mayhaps someone you know, agatha???

and that's a wrap, see you guys tomorrow!

no, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm doing another one tonight. I need to shove all the rio scenes in my eyeballs NOW

go to episode 4 part 2

[skrunklyshrimp]

Succulent - Kinich

Spiderman AU, where Kinich is Spiderman and you are the Gwen Stacy.

Kinich unknowingly explores the same suspicious temple as you, saves a few Saurians, saves you a few times, confesses his love to you. The basic stuff.

Notes: I have had major Kinich brainrot, especially with the sunflower edits of him on tiktok. So I took it upon myself to make a spiderman AU where he's spiderman! Yay! He's definitely OOC but I tried my hardest so please try to enjoy :3

(P.S. this stuff was written before he was released so this is not cannon!)

You were a simple researcher, wandering into the depths of Natlan. There was some elemental disturbance in some uncharted land underground, not wanting anyone else to get ahead of you, you embarked on your journey alone.

“Maybe I should've hired a mercenary.. Kinich would’ve been great.” you mutter. Kinich, a great mercenary, has such a cold demeanor yet he always stares at you and gives you such a warm gaze. You shake off the thoughts of your tiny crush as you slowly make your way through rough terrain. There were lava geysers all around and a hint of evil in the air, perhaps it was the abyss order.

You carried on, almost slipping into the multiple geysers all around. Thankfully you finally reached a safe point and decided to set up camp, just a simple tent and some traps in case enemies attack.

“Just a simple salad today, I have to preserve the meat for the hardest part of the adventure.” You say to no one aloud. 

You decide to mark down some observations of the cave you're in. So far you haven't come face to face with any enemies which is quite odd for an area with a highly condensed elemental energy. Perhaps someone has come before you. You mark off any important landmarks, different rocks, ancient markings. Sighing, you place your notebook down and shake your sore hand. 

“Time to sleep.” You stand up and stretch before heading into your tent for the night.

.

“Log number 18. I've still been searching for the cause of the elemental disturbance. Many enemies have appeared so I've done the reasonable thing and wiped them out. I do see a temple in the distance that radiates high elemental energy, so I will be checking that tomorrow but, right now it's time for me to rest.” Click. Kinich places down his recorder. 

“I’m not even getting paid for this gig. Why am I even doing this?” He sighs, leaning up against a nearby wall. 

See but Kinich knew exactly why, it was because of you. See Kinich had two jobs, one as a mercenary, one as a hero. He was known as Spiderman in Natlan, the way he would effortlessly swing with his grappling hook, and kill enemies of Teyvat as quickly as a black spider. He wore a mask in this identity, nobody knew who he was. Yet as he was weakened from an enemy far too strong and there he laid on the ground. You walked up, and instead of finding out who this mysterious Spiderman was, you kept his mask on, only pulling it high enough to wipe blood off his mouth. From then on he continued to have encounters with you, it always occurred whenever he got injured in battle, you were there by his side to patch up his wounds.

“I still don't even know your name.” Kinich reminisces about the moments spent together. “I'll get rid of this and protect you.” His promise fades away in the giant cave, nobody but himself to see it true. Kinich sets up a small sleeping bag, finally deciding to get some rest.

.

“New day, new adventure!” You say, trying to be optimistic. Although the truth is you could be farther from it. The elemental energy feels even more condensed than before, and there's this feeling of impending doom following suit. You quickly pack up your supplies not wanting to waste anymore time on this research trip. 

After what feels like hours, but in reality was probably no longer than 30 minutes, you see a temple in the distance. 

“This…” You stare at it from afar, shocked to even say a single word. The elemental energy that is pouring out from there is outstanding, there is definitely something suspicious going on. This is the first time in this adventure where you had second doubts, you definitely should've hired a mercenary, maybe Kinich. It's far too late for that now you decide as you begrudgingly step towards.

.

“These puzzles are definitely different from the ones we see around Natlan, right Ajaw?” Kinich looks at the strange mechanism.

“You really do suck if you can't get us through here. Wanna impress your lover researcher right? Right? Also why are you wearing that stupid mask, nobody is around.” Ajaw teases and questions the poor Kinich as he starts to get pissed.

“One I don't have a lover, two, this is for Natlan’s sake, something you must not understand, and three, I’ve gotten used to wearing it.” Kinich shoos away the now red Ajaw. “Finally figured out how it works though.” As he says that a door that was previously locked opens up.

“I see you've come to stop our plans once again traveler- ergh?!” A flame welding abyss lector pauses mid speech.

“Traveler? Do you mean the blond haired saviour going around helping people?” Kinich asks, recognizing the famous traveler.

“You're kinda totally ruining the plan I had dude.” The abyss lector says in defeat.

“What do you mean ruining the plan, huh!?” Ajaw yells, still upset about earlier.

“Well, the traveler and I were supposed to fight. After all, I totally ran away from our fight last time, heh. Just didn't wanna die you know?” The abyss lector laughs off his misfortune. “Nevermind that now I have to kill you, after all I can't have you leaking our information out and about.”

“Let's win this Kinich!” Ajaw says, trying to pump up his dear servant.

“Whatever you say I guess.” Kinich responds.

.

“These puzzles.. They're complete, someone had to have been here before.” You conclude. When you arrived at the temple you saw numerous doors open. There were many unfamiliar marks covering the temple head to toe, you only recognize a few as abyss symbols. Through careful observation you notice an odd placing brick on the wall, not wanting to inspect it with your own hands, you opt for a nearby stick. You take a deep breath in and push against the suspicious brick, allowing a secret passage downwards to open. 

“Thank god that wasn't a trap.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

After finishing writing down all the information you need about this current room you decide to explore this secret passage, it's basically just a bunch of stairs leading downwards.

.

“Shit you're one slippery guy, and what the hell is with that skill you're seriously like a spider.” The flame bearing abyss lector complains, definitely aggravated from the injuries inflicted on him.

“Yeah I tend to go by Spiderman, don't let the name wear out.” Kinich says, quickly using his skill to cover his eyes with his grapple, reducing his eyesight.

While covering the abyss lector’s eyes he uses a secondary grappling hook to start to spin himself, effectively wrapping the enemy up. 

“You damned brat! You'll pay for this!” The abyss lector yells while using his pyro skills, effectively destroying the web like wire that blocked his vision and disabled his movement.

“Too bad you weren't paying attention.” Kinich mutters, slicing his claymore against the back of the abyss lector, leading to its defeat.

“Ajaw, find anything of interest on his body, I'm going to check this machinery out.” Kinich orders Ajaw around, to which Ajaw complains but compiles.

In this room there's multiple computers showing different results, many different files of interest, and… a tube? Leading to where. Kinich is left to wonder. He takes a closer look at the tube to see a purple substance flow through it.

“Ajaw, find out where this tube leads, we'll switch jobs.” Kinich says, shoving Ajaw away from the flame abyss lector's body.

“Meh meh meh meh. Mr. Bossy-pants.” Ajaw mocks but goes right to finding where the location of the purple substance is coming from.

.

“I should've turned around.” You can't help but complain. You had been walking down these stairs for god knows how long, with barely any light, and no clue if there's enemies at the bottom.

“I'm so dead aren't I.” You cry. In the middle of you trying to accept your fate you see a brighter light. Hopeful that it's the bottom you pick up your pace only to be met face to face with, prison cells?

There were glass cells, no, chambers filled with Saurians, a purple substance being sucked out and pushed into a hole in the middle of the room. You take careful steps forward, heartbroken, shocked at the sight you're seeing. The dragon's that inhabit the lands of Natlan, being sucked dry of their elemental energy. This has to be the work of the abyss order, you conclude. You look at the seemingly bottomless pit in the middle of the room. 

“This is… despicable. How could they do this to innocent creatures?” You mutter, looking down into the pit with sadness.

“Oh? What's my number one fan doing here?” A familiar voice echoes in front of you.

“Ah, Spiderman-!?” You look up only to be met face to face with an upside down Spiderman.

“I'm not surprised you're here, but why are you here alone? You don't have a vision so this place is draining you of your energy.” A slight bit of concern covers Spiderman's voice.

“I had to explore. This cave was uncharted and I wanted to resolve this issue as soon as possible.” You answer his question, “Not to mention you're hurt yourself. When did this happen?” He just scratches the back of his head.

“Just had a fight just now I'm alright though. Had to win to see you once again.” Spiderman admits. “It looks like I'll have to have another fight though. Please stay back alright.” He says while pulling down his mask, just enough to show his mouth. He moves forwards enough to give you a light kiss against your lips. He gives you a smile before putting his mask back on and jumping right into the fight.

You stand there for a few seconds processing what just happened. Not only did the Spiderman just say he wanted to see you again, but he also just kissed you? You hear the noise of abyss mages getting hurt and remember what Spiderman told you to do, so you try to walk over to the other side, away from the fighting.

You watch in awe as the amazing Spiderman uses his webs to his advantage, dodging the attacks from abyss mages and using them to weaken the shields so he can do heavy damage with his claymore. You’re so enamored by his performance you don’t realize how close to the edge of the pit you get too.

“Finally done with these abyss mages.” Kinich mutters, turning to you only to see you dangerously close to the edge, with abyss mages behind you. “Watch out-!” Kinich tries to call out to you but it’s too late, the abyss mages push you into the pit.

Kinich is quick to react, quickly using his grappling hook to connect and grab you, which ends successfully. Only problem now? He had two electro abyss mages in front of him, his grappling hook unusable at the moment. The panic that Spiderman was going to lose his battle, and someone he holds close to his heart.

No, he thinks. He can’t let it happen again, he can’t. The few times Kinich opened his heart it was left broken, with the death of his father and now soon to be you. He can start to feel his arms weaken and-

“How did you beat me here!?” A scream comes from up top. Kinich’s eyes open in surprise, then his lips curve into a small smile.

“Ajaw, could you please get these mages out of their shields, I need to get our friend out of this pit.” He orders, no, commands Ajaw, to which he slowly complies. Ajaw begins to attack the abyss mages, holding his own as Kinich quickly pulls you up to the top, hoping you were still alive in his grappling hook. 

“It’s funny really, I don’t understand why a simple researcher like you caught my eye.” Kinich mumbles to himself seeing your body appear from the purple smoke filled pit. Admittedly Kinich was scared out of his mind when you weren’t moving, but a simple pulse check let him know that you weren’t dead, but unconscious. A huge wave of relief flooded Kinich knowing you were safe. That’s when he swiftly grabbed his claymore which he had disregarded and landed the final attack on the abyss mages.

“We’ll report this to the warriors in Natlan. They’ll free the surviving Saurians.” Ajaw suggests which Kinich agrees.

Kinich reaches up and removes his mask, his face covered with scratches, blood, and sweat. Yet even so, he smiles warmly knowing that you were safe.

.

Your head is spinning. You can’t see anything. You’re asleep. You have to just wake up. Wake up.

“Ugrh.” You groan, slowly opening your eyes to a recovery room. “Where am I?” You manage to speak out loud.

“You’re awake! I’m glad. See Kinich here found you in a temple and apparently you were all passed out, if he were later you might’ve died.” The doctor explains to you. Kinich? He found you but the only one who was at the temple with you was- oh. 

You quickly sit up surprising Kinich and the doctor who was at your side. You smile, “Thank you for the update doctor, but I need to speak with Kinich alone, if that’s alright.” You say weakly, nonetheless the doctor understands and leaves the two of you to your business.

“So, you’re Spiderman.” You state, waiting for him to deny, after all it can’t be true the the mercenary Kinich can also be the amazing Spider-

“Yeah.” He answers. Your thoughts pause, you freeze, and you just stare at him in shock.

“Why?” You ask, and he just tilts his head in confusion. “Why would you tell me your secret? I'm just a regular researcher, I don’t even have a vision.” You question, confused on why he would reveal his identity.

“It’s simple. Out of every fan I meet, you’re the only face I can remember, if I see you in a crowd I always tend to go into that direction. I may not even know your name but you show me with such care despite not knowing who I am.” Kinich confesses, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

“It’s right to be nice to everyone, even unknown identities.” You say.

“I guess you’re right, so will you humour me for a while and go on a date with me?” He asks you, looking at you with a warm gaze and a loving smile.

[yellowjestertfs]

Altered State: Part Six + Epilogue

Story is finally finished I can't believe it. Sorry this last part took so much longer then the others. I had a epilogue written but I sort of hated it and so decided rewrote the whole thing which took longer then I would have liked. As always Part Five, Four, Three, Two and One are already up. Thank you so much for everyone who has read what at this point is basically a book length story. I had so much fun writing it and would love to eventually write an Altered State 2.0 though I am going to try to stick to shorter projects in the meantime (Will see if I stick to that). Hope you enjoy and don't hesitate to reach out!

I like you, Leon, I have always liked you and not just in a friend way or a sexual way” Edward felt like he was going to throw up but he pushed forward. Watching Leon fight Hunter had solidified his feelings. They were too intense to let lie even a moment longer, his friend had to know how he felt even if he didn't feel the same. “but also like you in a -“

Edward didn't realize his feet were off the ground until he was already flying through the air. He let out a scream but it was too late. The metal claw wrapped tightly around his waist dragged him quickly and roughly through the air towards the towering contraption on the street like a harpoon reeling in a big fish. 

Edward’s whole body shook as the metal chain fully retracted the claw into the mech’s arm reattaching firmly. His head hurt and he suspected he might have a concussion. Edward struggled but his 5.4 strength was pathetic compared to the pressurized machinery holding him. 

Edward turned to face the pilot. A large colored plastic dome that looked as if it had been salvaged from a playground, sat on top of the mech distorting the appearance of the person inside. The floating name tag above their head however was visible and made Edward’s breath catch. “Alvis, Level 20 Technocrat”

Edward internally groaned. It was clear something had happened to Alvis besides him gaining 20 levels and a mech. He looked physically different. Through the semi-transparent plastic Alvis looked like a baby or a sickly child. His head was now mostly bald and extremely oversized, especially for his tiny body. His eyes were bright with a vast intelligence but the rest of his face had somehow gotten uglier.

“Alvis, what are you doing?” Edward asked, kicking his feet as he fruitlessly tried to escape.

Alvis ignored him. Instead he looked over Edward with a hungry gaze then in a voice amplified by a mic hidden somewhere in the mech said “wow you really are a pretty one. I’m starting to understand why that lout is so obsessed with you. It’s too bad your both assholes.”

“Let’s talk about this Alvis! I think there has been a misunderstanding.” The grip on Edward grew tighter making his words come out strained.

“Misunderstanding” Alvis’s nasal voice shouted “You and Leon are the worst most selfish roommates ever. You ignore me, you touch my things without asking and you fucked in my bed!” The last accusation came out as a screeched and Edward paled. He had no idea how Alvis knew that but it would make reasoning with him a lot more difficult. 

“I’m sorry about that. Put me down and we can talk. You don’t have to do this” Edwards said trying his best to work his charm though it was hard dangling in the grip of a giant robot talking through a barely transparent colored plastic spear.

Still, diplomacy seemed the only way. Edward tried to focus on his sage sense but he didn't understand what he was feeling. Alvis’s true desire had something to do with a basement, not particularly helpful at the moment. The countdown for the quest was down to a minute and thirty seconds. Edward had regained just enough energy points to use an emotion bomb on Hunter but the act had drained him of his reserves. A single point had regenerated since then and he was due to regenerate another soon, though that was still too little to use any of his techniques. He had no doubt Leon would try to play white knight and save the damsel from King Kong but he would only get himself hurt. Besides having a giant robot, Alvis was eight levels ahead of both of them with a whole host of abilities or techniques to be sure. 

Edward wasn’t particularly surprised by the level gap. Video games were one of the only things Leon and Alvis had in common. He knew Alvis was a power gamer, someone who focused on making his character as strong as possible while bypassing other things like the story. Edward always thought that approach took the fun out of the game. Edward also knew Alvis was brutal with the power he had, quick to kill an NPC or even his own allies if it amused him or served his ends.

“I don’t have to do this?” Alvis asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you understand, don’t you ever think with more than your dick. They sent you here to stop me because they know what I am going to do. It’s awake now and there is no putting it back to sleep. If they want to give us power then they need to live with the consequences.” His words became increasingly forceful and a bit deranged.

“Alvis I don’t understand what you are saying, who are they, what is it? Can you give me some proper nouns here?” Edward could see his charisma start to take hold, making Alvis more talkative. Alvis had never been the easiest person to get along with but Edward suspected his new class might have driven him a touch insane. He supposed such a sudden increase in intelligence might do that. 

Alvis chose to ignore all of Edward's questions and continues with his madman’s rant. “I overloaded it once and so much had already changed under the surface. But of course you can’t see. Its getting smarter more complex, leaning from those who join. If that was just one frat house imagine a whole block, imagine the whole campus, the whole city. You and Leon are blinded by the glamor, I won’t let myself be, I can’t. The game speaks to me, its voice is getting louder. It wants to make our desires manifest but they don’t want it to. They are going to kill us, kill it kill our god. We can’t let them, we need to help it, help it, help me, I’m going to kill you.”

Edward blanched. It was clear something was seriously wrong with Alvis. His words were choppy and halting and at times sounded as if someone else was speaking. Still there were nuggets of truth hidden in his rantings things Edward could learn about how the game worked or at least how Alvis thought it worked. The “critical mass” notification from earlier must have been from when Alvis had played the disk for the frat and added them to the game. Adding that many players had updated the game to version 1.2. It seemed Alvis wished to add more players to update the game again, though Edward didn’t know why. Could that be the purpose of the device? Did Alvis truly think the game was alive?

He knew if he had time he could calm Alvis down and get a proper answer out of him, but he didn't get the chance.

From above there was a sound like an airplane taking off. Leon, in all his naked glory flung himself from the hole in the second floor. He had grown, a lot, he looked like a superhero, flying forward fist extended in a high ark, surging over the front yard and landing onto the street just in front of the robot. The concrete cracked under his bare feet and a shockwave blasted out from where he landed which rocked the mech but didn’t topple it, nor did the grip on Edward loosen.

Leon looked pissed, an expression made scary by his now hypermasculine square face adorned with a mustache and stubble. He looked like a Norse giant or an especially large and pissed-off gay porn star.

A crack had appeared in the plastic bubble over Alvis. Through it Edward could more clearly see  the Technocrat’s face which seemed surprised by Leon’s demonstration of force and anger, but not concerned. Leon rushed forward, in his giant form he was almost two-thirds as tall as the massive machine though still substantially less wide. Edward knew Leon would try to pry him free of the machine, and so did Alvis. The mech's other hand pivoted slowly on rusty loud gears, then suddenly sprung forward as if the mechanism had become butter, likely due to one of Alvis’s techniques. The arm slammed into Leon mid-charge and flung him back into a car parked on the street, denting the vehicle and causing its alarm to go off. The few college kids who had gathered on the street filming the fight on their phones cheered at the blow. 

“Leon stop” Edward yelled. He knew he could talk both of them down if they stopped for a second, but the two were too busy with their masculine antics to listen to him. Leon picked himself up from the ground. If not for his Animal Endurance and Armored Skin, he would likely be dead. As it was Edward could see Leon now had a limp. He charged once again, his giant body causing the ground to shake under his pounding feet. 

Alvis activated another technique and every piece of technology within a large radius around him exploded. Cars, street lamps, fire hydrants, and even the phone in Edward's pocket all deconstructed themselves into component parts and flew toward Alvis like he was a magnet. A large car door flew into Leon, throwing him off his feet and the metal components and electronics of Edward’s phone dug painfully into him as they tried to reach Alvis by tearing a hole in his leg. 

Leon was stubborn. He got back to his feet, dodged a wildly whipping electrical line then charged at Alvis, using a flying telephone pole as a javelin. The wooden pole smashed into the center of the robot toppling it onto one leg. Alvis furiously worked the controls, preventing the machine from falling, but in the process the claw around Edward’s waist loosened enough for him to slip out. He fell to the concrete rolling painfully.

Leon saw this and tried to run to Edward but was kicked away hard by the mech’s foot, Alvis’s attention fully focused on Leon thanks to his Punchable Face perk. Edward ran away from the mech, his Effortless Grace allowed him to do a decent job dodging the flying technological debris but he still accumulated a series of cuts in the process. He would have given anything for a few of Leon’s perks at that moment. 

“You destroyed my car!” Leon yelled accusingly, ripping up a mailbox from the ground and hurling it at Alvis. A laser shot from the mech’s other hand and sliced it in half. 

“You used my game system without asking” Alvis shot back voice slightly distorted by the speaker. 

“Those are not equivalent things!” Leon yelled. The two could have been siblings fighting on a road trip if they were not both hulking behemoths capable of taking down a house. “And I smashed your stupid machine,” Leon shouted up at Alvis, trying to get a reaction. 

“Which one?” Alvis asked cooly. Edward’s heart sank. He should have known someone as paranoid as Alvis would have multiple contraptions set up. He saw Leon’s eyes go wide as well. Edward suddenly remembered what he had felt with his sage skill. In the basement, the machine had to be down there.

All it took was one look at Leon and his friend knew. Edward made a break back towards the frat house. The surges of debris had slowed allowing him to reach the house in a matter of seconds. At the front door Leon had kicked in, Edward risked a look back and saw Alvis had attempted to pilot his mech to go after him but was being physically held back by Leon pulling on a leg with Herculean strength. On instinct Edward cast out with his captive serpent technique, burning the two energy points that had regenerated on Alvis before rushing into the house. 

Edward sprinted to the door he had seen with his sage perk and was grateful to find it unlocked. It was clear the basement was used normally for storage. Boxes, dusty shelves and other junk filled the floor expect for cleared out area where the contraption sat. It looked like the one from upstairs only slightly smaller. Satellite dishes hung from the side and in the middle was yet another copy of the “Altered State” game disk. Edward had no idea how Alvis had gotten multiple. 

There were only twenty seconds left on the quest. The machine was working up to something big, a loud whirring noise came from the center part of the machine and the LED lights along the edges began to blink faster and faster. Edward grabbed a rusty length of metal from the ground, maybe once used in some scaffolding or as a fire poker. Outside he could hear the clash of titans, metal slamming into reinforced skin. He hoped Leon was alright.

It was amazing to him how much he and Leon’s lives had changed because of this game. In the course of a day, Edward had gone from an insecure ugly nobody drifting passively through life to someone with the power and autonomy to take what he wanted. Leon was always a superhero trapped in the body of a fat kid. Sure he could be quick to judge and a little immature but he ultimately wanted to do so much good but rarely could. The game had allowed him the opportunity to become what was always on the inside. And the game had brought them together. It was so silly to Edward that he had spent all that time dreaming about having someone special in his life when he already had it all along. He wanted Leon and only Leon. 

He thought again about the quest reward offered for spoiling Alvis’s plans. A love potion. He imagined giving it to Leon, imagined his friend looking back at him with the same amount of love he had for him. He lifted the length of metal ready to smash the machine, but hesitated. 

It wasn’t the ethics of a love potion that stayed his hand. No, the game wouldn’t have given him the Snake Charmer class if Edward was morally opposed to bending wills. Instead, it was what Alvis had said.

If he understood correctly, which was far from a sure thing, this machine was intended to bring more people into the game. Alvis seemed to think it would only affect the surrounding city and with one machine smashed it might be even less effective. Yet even so Edward wondered if he could really deprive others of the opportunity he had gotten. Sure there were those out there like Hunter and the guys in the frat who would abuse the power but Edward firmly believed there was more like Trent and Tag or him and Leon who wouldn’t. Edward knew it was stupid to trust Alvis. He was a weasel and without a doubt had his own motivations that were less than pure, and yet ultimately they agreed on the outcome that had to occur.

Plus there was the fact that Alvis seemed to think the game was alive. Edward was pretty sure that belief was due to his roommate having gone fully insane, and yet with all he had seen, he struggled to fully reject the idea. If so would Edward stopping the machine kill it, or doom it to a life of simple servitude? Was Edward willing to do all that to be with Leon?

In the one second before the countdown hit zero Edward was left with the agonizing decision so many have faced before. His desire for good and his desire for love waged war. In the end he made his decision with a deep breath and a step back as he watched the countdown hit zero and accepted his fate to live life without love. 

The machine let out of loud nails on a chalkboard screech, shook violently then sent a beam of light into the ceiling. For a few seconds, there was nothing then Edward blinked finding his vision suddenly filled with a rapid series of notifications and to his surprise tears. The two remaining quests marked themselves as failed though luckily he didn't become a Wretch for it.

Instantly Edward’s mind went to Leon. He felt a strange cocktail of mourning, guilt, and acceptance which made his stomach hurt. Mourning for the potential life of love he could have had with his friend, guilt for what he had just unleashed, and acceptance knowing that whatever came next he had to accept. He needed to let this dream, this delusion of anything more with Leon die.

He pocketed the copied Altered State disk then left the basement resigned to his fate, feeling uglier then he ever had before.

-

Leon, for about the hundredth time that day, had no idea what was going on. As the countdown on the quest reached zero and a grating mechanical noise emerged from the house behind him Alvis let out a sinister laugh, face twisting into an evil satisfied grin. “Looks like your boyfriend chose chaos over you,” the technocrat said. Then he pulled a lever on his mechanism and the cockpit shot out like a rocket, blasting Alvis and the mechanical core of the mech high and far into the air before a parachute deployed and Leon’s evil roommate drifted slowly to the ground laughing all the way.

Leon didn’t have time to watch Alvis’s descent. A wave of notifications blinded him coming at first in rapid succession before coming slower like the last few stubborn popcorn kernels in the microwave. Around him, he heard the other students on the street yell in alarm and confusion. 

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.2 to version 1.3.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.3 to version 1.4.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.4 to version 1.5.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.5 to version 1.6.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.6 to version 1.7.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.7 to version 1.8.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.8 to version 1.9.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.9 to version 2.0”

When he focused on any of the notifications two smaller ones popped up.

“A full list of changes is available to all players with above 100 in intelligence or with a technology-based class. Thank you for playing Altered State.” 

“Altered state is a product of the HunkTech corporation. Any unauthorized tampering with any version of this product will result in an immediate correctional effort.”

Leon felt something shift and then pop within his brain as if he had rapidly descended into the deep ocean. The appearance of the UI superimposed onto his vision by the game changed becoming more sleek and modern. Before it had looked like a 90’s RPG with blocky text and bold bright colors. Now however all the lines were clean and simple, adjusting themselves into a more unobtrusive and intuitive places in his vision. New tabs also appeared on his UI, there was one for stats, another for his quests, and a third for his inventory, which was currently empty. Another tab had a list of contacts. Edward, Ruth, and some of his more friendly acquaintances were on there along with most of his professors, though his family and friends from home were missing for some reason. Looking closely he saw he had the ability to start chats with any of them or invite them to a party. There was also a tab for achievements, one which had a map on it, and the last tab which was an auto-populating journal that listed with detailed information all the classes, perks, items, abilities, and game related things he had encountered. Leon knew he could, and would spend hours reacquainting himself with the new features and the changes to old ones but first, he needed to find Edward. 

The bulk of Alvis’s robot still lay on the street, dented from the multiple places Leon had hit it with thrown debris or his own fists. The road and surrounding front yards were marred from the battle, big chunks of electoral and water lines having ripped themselves up from the ground and flooding the street with dangerously electrified water. Leon heard some loud voices coming from the other side of the street and slowly made his way over. 

As he navigated the debris he felt himself slowly shrink back down to his usual size, his Size Up ability having finally run its course. Leon felt suddenly weak without his boosted strength and inhuman muscle size, though he knew he was still clinically speaking totally jacked.

Leon felt his breath catch as he saw the source of the commotion around. The dozen or so onlookers who had been filming the battle now stood on the street all talking over each other with panic or disbelief. A few stared blankly into space with the familiar glazed look of reading a notification or checking out their stats. 

Sure enough, all the onlookers now had name tags floating above their heads which listed their name, their classes, and their level, which for all of them was level one. A few houses down a group of sorority girls walked outside looking for answers. All of them too had classes now listed above their heads, some made sense like the Cheerleader, Bookworm, or Pop Star class; while others seemed more bizarre like a short blond girl with the level one Radiant Knight class or another with the Park Pigeon Lady class. 

More people came out of their homes or got out of their cars, nearly all of whom had classes now listed above their heads. Leon even saw a dog on a leash that now had the class Best Boy above its head and a squirrel that ran by with the class Nutcracker.

“Leon” he heard a familiar voice yell. Leon turned to see Edward making his way towards him. Leon felt like scooping his friend up in a hug and never letting him go but Edward seemed strangely sheepish and hesitant so he kept his distance. 

“All this, was it really Alvis’s plan?” Leon asked gesturing to the confused level one people around them. 

“Part of it at least I think.” Edward said surveying the chaos with an odd detached look on his face “Did you get him?”

Leon shook his head “He got away.” 

“That's alright. I got him with my captive serpent technique.”

“What does that do again?” Leon asked. 

“Prevents him from being able to cum.” Edward said handsome smile slipping onto his face for a moment.

“Oh, he’s not going to like that.” 

A dark sad look came back over Edward’s face and they stood there in awkward silence, the first Leon could remember since they had first met.  “So, what now?” Leon asked trying to bring a lightheartedness back.

It didn't work on Edward. “I guess we just go home,” he hesitated and looked like he was going to cry for some reason “or you could go out to a party and pick up a girl if you wanted. I’d understand.”

“A girl?” Leon asked laughing “What are you talking about?”

“I saw a level one cheerleader. She was really pretty. I’m sure you could pick her up now with your body and stuff.” Edward said, spitting the words out like they were burning his mouth on the way out. 

“Edward,” Leon said trying to interrupt his friend. 

Edward kept going. “I’m sorry about our hookup before. It was fun and all but I know you probably want something more serious and -.” 

“Edward” Leon said again louder stepping forward.

Edward continued stubbornly adverting his gaze away from Leon “And about what I was saying before, I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it was just physical between us and that I kind of forced you into it with my perks and that you wouldn’t want anything more with-“

“Oh, will you shut up already,” Leon said placing one large hand over Edward's mouth, feeling the erotic thrill of the touch. Edward tried to say something but his words were muffled by Leon’s fingers. He looked up at Leon with eyes that looked so sad and hopeful and tired all at the same time, eyes that made Leon’s heart melt. 

“I like you, Edward. I like like you. Yeah, I want things to be like they were before. I want to play video games together and hang out every day and tell you all my stupid jokes. But I also want to do other stuff, like snuggle in bed with you, and kiss you and I really want to have sex with you like 100 times a day.” Edward gave a weak laugh from under Leon’s hand, still obviously unconvinced. Leon’s no-fear perk made him bold and he continued to dump the thoughts that had been brewing in his mind all day. “Edward if something happened to you I don’t know what I would do. I care about you a lot, you're like my favorite person in the whole world. And I don’t really know what that all means, I still don’t think I’m gay but I want to have sex with you and to be your best friend and I guess that's basically like being a boyfriend. He said the last part as a question, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable and fragile, a thing he hadn’t thought he could ever feel with his physical size and strength.

He lifted his hand away from Edward’s mouth to reveal a brilliant charming smile that dimpled Edward’s face adorably. “Do you really mean it?” He asked like a boy opening presents for Christmas.

“Of course I do,” Leon said returning his own grin. Edward wrapped his arms tight around Leon’s naked back, hands barely able to meet with how wide his shoulders were. “So is that a yes to the whole boyfriend thing?” 

“Of course it is you dork,” Edward said. He laughed melodically and Leon lifted him off the ground spinning him in the air. The two kissed, slow and passionate and oh so right. Leon felt like he had beaten the game like this was what all the questing fighting and discovery had been for. Some of the people outside turned to stare at the two gorgeous men making out, though most were too preoccupied with their new classes and the quests they had just been given to notice.

Leon knew things were about to change. That the life he knew, the world he understood were now things of the past. Yet in that moment none of that seemed to matter. Leon couldn’t see the chaos around him, nor the displays superimposed onto his vision. All Leon could see in that moment was his lover, his best friend, his roommate, and now his boyfriend. He knew that so long as they were together everything would be alright.

-

Epilogue

“I’m not drunk” Edward slurred in a way that made it very clear he was completely sloshed. He slumped over into Leon’s lap eyes glazed over not from reading notifications but from the copious tequila shots and evidently very dirty Shirley he had just consumed. 

“Sure your not,” Leon said patting his boyfriend’s head efficiently. “I’m just going to chat Tag and ask him to make you one of those detoxing drinks. 

“Uhhh” Edward groaned into Leon’s lap. “Those taste like dog food. I should not have -” he hiccuped loudly “tried to keep up with you.” 

At least twenty shot glasses sat empty in front of Leon and he didn't even feel a slight buzz. Tag had invited him to the bar convinced his latest creation would be strong enough to get Leon drunk and while the drink, a mix of every alcohol imaginable, was strong enough to fry a liver from smell alone it was no match for the combination of his Metabolizer perk and his level seventeen Relentless Constitution perk which made him resistant to things like temperature, pressure, sickness, and poison. 

Leon was secretly a little miffed that he would be relegated to being the designated driver for the rest of his college years though the trade off’s offered by his class were more then worth it. Besides at the moment Edward was drunk enough for the both of them. 

Leon placed a dinner plate-sized hand on Edward's back and started to rub up and down causing his boyfriend to moan appreciatively. Leon felt an overwhelming urge to protect Edward which he knew was due in part to his genuine feelings towards his boyfriend and also the result of Edward’s level 17 perk, Protect Me, which compelled the men around him to protect him in times of distress. 

Leon navigated the tabs of his UI, a thing that had become second nature in the month since they had started their Altered State Journey, and opened up a private chat with Tag. “Could we get an order of your detox drink in the back? Edward's real housewife sloppy drunk.”

A moment passed then Tag sent a personalized emoji doing a thumbs up, and sent a message saying he would be there as soon as he made one for Trent as well.

A level eighteen weatherman with the bland generic handsomeness of a TV newscaster glanced their way as he walked by, bringing a pocket of cold air with him causing Leon’s nipples to perk up. Because they were going out Leon had managed to squeeze himself into a pair of XXL jeans though he couldn’t bring himself to put on a shirt. With his Naked confidence perk no one minded his lack of dress, least of all his boyfriend. 

As if alerted to the state of Leon’s nipples by a silent bell Edward sat up and began to massage Leon’s pecs, which had grown to the size of softballs to match his 62 strength, and squeeze it like a stress ball. His grip had some actual strength behind it thanks to the lean muscle he had managed to pack on from a few gym sessions aided by Leon’s Personal Trainer perk. While Leon barely felt the pressure of Edward’s grip through his naturally armored skin he did feel the effects of Edward’s Euphoric Caress. After two weeks with lots of physical contacts, the perk no longer overwhelmed him, though it still made him shift in his seat and his dick stiffen to attention. 

“That guy was totally checking you out.” Edward slurred in his drunken state, grabbing a fist full of Leon’s chest hair and tugging on it like an inquisitive child. 

Leon rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding he was totally checking you out.”

“I think he was checking us both out, maybe he could be our special unicorn,” Edward said giggling to himself before hiccuping loudly again and laying his head back into Leon’s lap. 

Early on the two had agreed that they were both secure enough in their bond to allow the other to have some fun on their own. Edward who was not lacking for willing and eager sexual partners had taken advantage of their arrangement a few times, though Leon had yet to. His feelings regarding his sexuality were still too confusing and there was still too much he wanted to explore with Edward for him to feel the need, though he didn't begrudge his boyfriends escapades. Edward had gotten it into his head that they should bring a third into their sex lives to spice things up and was now on a full blown hunt for a “Special Unicorn”.

From the other side of the bar, two glowing orbs of light trailing glittering sparks behind them flew towards their table. They spun in place before growing brighter and larger resolving into the shape of Tag standing and Trent hovering, as he now always did, in front of them. 

Though Leon hadn’t met either before they had been assigned classes on that fateful night he knew from Edward that Tag looked relatively the same as he had a week ago. Tall and fit with dark skin and tattoos, he wore a tight black shirt and baggy jeans that hugged his ass and crotch. Leon still wasn’t gay but being with Edward had given him an appreciation for good-looking men like Tag.

So far as Leon knew there were only two effects from the game that had changed Tag’s appearance so far. The first were the few workouts he had led Tag through which thanks to his level 13 Personal Trainer perk were much more effective at building strength. The second came from a special juice shot that Tag now drank daily which boosted his charisma a few points, making his face more handsome and his dick slightly larger.

Above his head, Tag’s tag displayed his name and his class, a Mixologist, though it didn’t show a level. This they had discovered over the course of the month since that fateful day was due to the fact that Tag’s class was considered a profession. Profession classes were often based off artisan occupations or other skilled jobs and gave related bonuses. Profession classes were less common but Leon had seen many in the month since Alvis’s machine had gone off like the Seamstress, Carpenter, Perfumer, or the Barber class which Alexi had received, making his haircuts even better and giving small stat bonuses to anyone who received his services. Unlike embodied classes which gave abilities or Conduit classes which gave access to Energy Points and techniques, profession classes didn’t level up. That meant they didn't gain perks or attribute points naturally. Instead, they had access to skills. 

Tag had reported that there were hundreds if not thousands of skills available. Things like walking, breathing, eating, or sleeping all counted as skills and were available to be leveled up by those with profession classes. Increasing a skill made a person better at that thing and also gave passive or active bonuses at each level depending on the skill. 

Not all skills were created equal, however. Profession classes gave huge bonuses to relevant skills. In the weeks since he had gotten his class Tag had managed to level up his Mixology skill to level fourteen while his sex skill, a thing Tag assured him he was doing a lot of, had only leveled up once. 

Tag theorized there were ways of boosting skill progression or even having more than one profession class at a time though he hadn’t yet figured out how to do either.

“I told you those Dirty Shirley’s were too strong,” Trent said taking in Edward's slumped drunken state. Though he was significantly shorter than Tag he hovered a few feet in the air on a pair of iridescent fairy wings making Tag have to look up to meet his disapproving gaze. 

Tag gave Leon a sheepish glance then walked over to Edward whose eyes were half closed and were muttering something to himself. “Yeah still working on that recipe. Just give me a second and I’ll fix him up.” 

Tag reached his hand into a small bag on his hip much further than should have been possible then removed his hand holding a large glass. He reached back in and procured a mug of hot coffee liquid, an egg, and half a lemon. Trent helpfully freed up Tag’s hands by making each ingredient float in the air with a wave of his hand as Tag pulled them out.

Leon knew Trent had specifically picked the level fifteen technique out of the three offered by his Pixie class that allowed him to warp the space of containers in order to make something for Tag to carry his mixology supplies around in. At the moment he could only work his technique on small bags but Trent had told him and Edward that once he had enough energy points he could do the same to a whole room or even a building, warping the space to make them bigger on the inside then the outside. 

Tag added each of the ingredients to the glass, stirred it exactly three times in each direction then offered it up to Edward. Leon sat Edward up and took the glass placing it to his lips, The unappetizing brown slightly lumpy looked like it tasted like dogfood but Leon knew the effectiveness of Tag’s brews and so tipped the liquid back between his boyfriends pillowy lips. Edward gagged before gulping the concoction down with a sour look on his face. 

Instantly color returned to his face and he sat up on his own, eyes focusing with their usual intelligence. “Have you really not found a way to improve the taste?” Edward asked wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and scowling at Tag. 

“Next on my to-do list,” Tag said sitting down on a stool next to Edward and giving him a cheeky grin. 

“As if. You just like to watch us suffer.” Edward said playfully shoving Tag.

Trent stayed hovering in the air on his wings but descended a few feet down and floated closer to the table so he was next to Leon. “I think the raw egg isn’t even necessary. He just add it to be a dick.”

“How dare.” The tag said in mock outrage. Leon watched his friend's banter with a smile. Once he might have joined in with his own playful jabs but ever since he reached level 20 a few days ago and earned the perk Stalwart Presence he had found himself content to be a more passive observer in group conversations. A pillar of good-natured strength rather than a participant. 

He felt strange about how that perk along with his level 8 No Fear perk and in some ways his Tip Top Testosterone perk were changing his personality. Sure he might be becoming a better person but it felt wrong to have that forced upon him rather than undergo that development himself. 

Edward too had received perks that changed his personality. His level 20 perk, Shed Your Skin, had made him more sociable, friendly, and flirtatious. The shy reserved Edward he had once known was now a thing of the past. In a way their dynamic had completely shifted and yet underneath it all they were still fundamentally the same people, at least Leon hoped. 

“It's been a few days since we have seen you, what have you two been up to other than fucking like bunnies?” Trent asked with an impish grin. He too had received a personality-adjusting perk at level 20, making him more playful and mischievous, better in line with his Pixie class. His appearance had had also changed as he leveled. Besides for the obvious wings he now had his face had gained a puckish handsomeness from the charisma he received at each level plus a perk that caused his ears to now end in points. 

Like how level five caused a rapid and drastic change to one’s body it seemed to be a universal thing as well that level 20 caused a change to one's personality. It was one of the reasons that a sizable amount of people given classes were hesitant to advance them. Level 20 it seemed was also a sort of soft level cap. Afterwards the game no longer provided the same regular relatively simple quests that were so useful in leveling up fast early. Instead, one was forced to level up relying on the XP gained from doing tasks related to their class or from XP rewards granted from rarer situational quests like event quests or combat quests. Edward and Leon hadn't yet gotten another of those and in the week or so since they reached level twenty and though both had earned enough XP to reach level 21 it had taken a few days of determined effort, a much slower process compared to their earlier rapid assent in levels. 

For Leon that meant he had to spend a lot of time in the gym or playing sports to earn Juggernaut XP, while Edward earned XP by talking to people, specifically men. With some experimentation, Leon had also discovered that intense sex provided him with XP while Edward received XP through foreplay. They did plenty of both, for their development of course. 

“I’d say this one is more a jackrabbit than a bunny,” Edward said gesturing to Leon with an equally devious grin. “It’s been weird trying to settle back into my old routines though.” Edward continued somewhat more seriously “I mean it’s just kind of hard to focus on my lessons when I know half my classmates can shoot lasers out of their eyes.”

All at the table nodded at that. Alvis’s device had caused the activation code for Altered State to be blasted onto every TV, phone, and device with a connection to the internet on campus and the surrounding areas. The code had remained long enough and had happened at a busy enough period to ensure that most of the the student body and faculty who lived in the area had joined the game and given classes. This had also overloaded the system and forced the game to update itself eight times to version 2.0. 

In the ensuing chaos the university had shut down. It became the fascination of international news as what first was first being reported as mass hysteria quickly became a story about the supernatural powers the local residents now possessed and the video game they claimed to be in.

The school had made the bold choice after only two week of closure to resume its usual functions, now with a dedicated department to honing and utilizing these new abilities and with lots of research grants given to those with professional classes. 

Tag had been given a generous stipend to pursue his mixology by the school. He often told the others how strange it felt to buy alcohol on the school's dime, though that didn’t stop him from doing so copiously and with a great generosity for sharing the results of his experiments.

Those however like Leon and Edward whose classes were not particularly beneficial to anyone but themselves were still expected to attend their usual course schedule. There were of course many who ignored this edict, too enwrapped by their new reality or afraid of it to attend class. However, there were also surprising number of people who were content to live life as they had before, mostly ignoring the video game display now permanently superimposed onto their vision and making little use of the perks and abilities they did earn.

Leon and Edward were somewhere in the middle. While they attended most of their University classes their focus had definitely shifted to experimenting and advancing their Altered State classes and enjoying the fruits of their efforts. Their educations just no longer seemed quite as important, especially when they received guaranteed increases to their intelligence each level. 

“I know what you mean,” Trent said agreeing with Edward's comments about classes. “My Early American Literature class has become impossible to focus in.”

“Why’s that?” Edward asked, “Did the professor get the pilgrim class?”

“No worse, he’s a DILF.” The table was silent for a moment and Trent rushed to clarify “that's his class I mean, and he’s high-level too.”

“That's a class?” Edward exclaimed surprised. “What type of perks does it give? Is it charisma or strength based?” He asked, a bit too excited for his curiosity to be purely academic.  

“Maybe both” Trent guessed. “He’s gotten all muscly and handsome over the past few weeks as he’s leveled up. I’m not sure about perks but his hair turned this really sexy salt and pepper at level eleven I think.”

“Oh my god, what time is your lecture?” Edward said all pretenses of casual curiosity gone as he turned to Leon with object joy on his face. “Maybe he can be our third! I could seduce him, you know I could.” 

“Maybe,” Leon said though the idea did intrigued him.

“What are you boys talking about?” A voice said from behind. Leon turned to see Ruth and a long-faced girl he recognized as Olivia, one of the Dagahir player who had fought Hunter with. She had been granted the Shieldmaiden class while Ruth had gained the Girl With a Giant Sword class, which as the name suggested had given her the ability to summon and wield a sword that was nearly the size she was. The sword, which was thick and silver with red ornamentation stood point into the floor next to her. Some gave it curious looks as they passed but most ignored it, as it was no longer an uncommon sight to see individuals carrying weapons granted by their class especially not to the mostly classed student patrons of the bar. 

Leon scooted his stool a bit more towards Trent to make room for the newcomers at the table. The others knew Leon’s friends they would be coming and shifted as well to make room for the two women. Trent flew over the table to hover by Tag so that Ruth could lean her sword on the wall he have been hovering by.

Since that fateful day Leon had attended a number of Dagohir meetings, ones made significantly more interesting now that a majority of the club had been granted classes most of which happened to lend themselves to medieval combat in some way.

“Trent was just telling us about this DILF class,” Leon said trying to involve the newcomers into the conversation. 

“A DILF class?” Ruth asked, “What department is that in?”

 “English” Trent said and Ruth’s eyebrows shot up. 

“That's the professor's class, in the game.” Leon clarified.

“Ahh,” Ruth said looking suddenly thoughtful. As soon as the two newcomers had arrived Tag had busied himself making them drinks from the supplies in his physics-defying bag. He hadn’t bothered to ask what either wanted, one of the perks of his class was that he usually knew on instinct.  “Don’t you think it's weird how gendered the classes are?” Ruth asked. 

“What do you mean?” Tag asked as he handed her and Olivia two white drinks that looked like Pina Colada complete with little paper umbrellas. 

“I mean just look.” She said gesturing at her and Olivia’s Shieldmaiden and Girl With A Giant Sword classes floating above their head then at a table in the corner of three goth girls labeled the classes Vampire Huntress, Vampire Seductress, and Vampire Priestess. “Don’t you think it’s strange that classes would specify gender in them? Plus from what I have seen the classes assigned to women tend to lean more towards fighting while all the guys classes sound like they could be gay porn categories.”

Trent snorted at that but Tag looked thoughtful. Edward shot Leon and meaningful glance and Leon nodded. Edward had informed him of what Alvis had said and while they originally chalked it up to the rantings of a madman they had started to reconsider the notion that the game might be alive in some form. There were just too many coincidences and and incidental happenings for someone not to be in control of the game, and from what Alvis had said it was unlikely to still be Hunktech. 

Ever since Alvis had escaped that night neither had heard or seen from him at all, and while his stuff still remained in their apartment neither had high hopes of him paying his share of next month's rent. Edward was convinced that Alvis had skipped town but Leon wasn’t so sure. Edward still maintained his Captive Serpent technique on Alvis mean the man hadn’t climaxed in at least a month. He doubted his incel roommate was to happy about that and suspected he would try to force Edward to release him sooner or later. To be safe Leon had gotten the local locksmith who had received the Locksmith profession to install new locks now imbued with extra strength.

“Also,” Ruth said filling the empty science her questions had left “have you guys seen a single hetero couple.” That stumped the table as all wracked their brains trying to think of if they had seen any. Leon had heard of a number of other individuals with sexuality-bending class features like Edward had though all seemed orientated towards same-sex relations.

“So you think the game has a gay agenda?” Trent asked smirking. Ruth only shrugged, face stoic. She had become a rather serious person, and Leon was realizing she might not actually be a great friendship match for the ever-playful Trent.

“To the gay agenda,” Edward said raising his Dirty Shirley in a toast breaking the tension that had begun to bubble. He took a sip of the Dirty Shirley Tag had made for him earlier and his eyes instantly took on an intoxicated look. Leon suspected he might need another of Tag’s detox drinks before long. 

Leon stood up from the table. While the shots he took earlier might not have gotten him drunk it did give him the need to pee like a fountain. 

“Kiss before you go, babe?” Edward asked sweetly. Leon shook his head ruefully. He knew firsthand the power a kiss from Edward had gained after the Snake Charmer had reached level 19. A perk called Venomous Kiss made it so that Edward’s saliva now contained a non-lethal toxin that caused any man who injected it to want Edward desperately and irresistibly. The toxin naturally wore off after half an hour or if the antidote, located in Edward’s sperm, was consumed. Leon had been under the effects enough the past few weeks to know that while extremely fun it was also nearly impossible to control himself while under the effect and that a kiss now would likely result in them having sex in the middle of the bar, scandalizing their new friends.

“Maybe later babe.” He said excusing himself from the table and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. He maneuvered between a level eleven Combat Medic and a level sixteen Exorcist with glowing red eyes, apologizing profusely as he brushed up against them, mindful of the space his 250 pounds 6’5” body took up and also feeling slightly scared of what the Exorcist who’s eyes glowed a malicious red might do if pissed off.

A table of low level guys gawked at him as he passed. One with the class of Nudist who was predictably nude whistled at him as he passed. “Flex for us” he practically begged. Leon gave a rueful smile, a slight bicep flex then went into the men's room. His level 18 perk, Mr. Olympia made his muscles extremely appealing to onlookers, and requests for such displays were not uncommon, though Leon still felt embarrassed being so openly objectified. 

Inside the bathroom, Leon approached the unoccupied of the two urinals. He fished out his dick from his pants which had grown even bigger with added levels thanks to his Grower and Shower perk, a jaw filling nine inches. In his peripheral vision, he could just make out the tag of the man peeing next to him. A level fourteen Big Dicked Wonder. Though it violated all urnal  codes Leon couldn’t help but cast his gaze down to the man's penis. 

The class name was no lie. The man’s dick looked like a prosthetic. It made Leon’s thick dick look like a shrimp. He felt his mouth began to water and had the sudden overwhelming desire to put the guys cock in his mouth. He suspected the sensation was a result of one or more of the man’s perks but didn't really care. 

The man saw his looking and gave a cocky wink. Leon felt like he was going to swoon. Maybe this would be his first encounter without Edward or even better maybe this man could be the third Edward had been searching for. He knew Edward at least could handle this big dicked wonder with his Charmers Basket perk and Leon could only hope his athleticism would let him as well.

Leon’s horny thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a muffled sobs coming from one of the stalls. He turned and felt his mouth fall open in shock as he saw the name tag floating above the stall. Hunter, level six wretch. 

With a deep sigh he stepped away from the Big Dicked Wonder and marched up to the stall, wrapping on the door twice with his fists, the natural ridges of bone grown up over his knuckles from his Brass Knuckle perk made a loud noise on the metal door that echoed around the bathroom. 

“Occupied,” a high nasally voice said from the other side sniffling. 

“Hunter opens up, it's Leon” he called.

There was a pause then Hunter shouted “Go away” from the other side of the door.

Leon sighed, then activated his inner strength ability and checked the door with his shoulder, snapping the lock and causing the stall door to slam open with a crash. The Big Dicked Wonder gave them a sidelong glance before somehow tucking his massive dick back into his pants and hurrying back into the bar.

Inside Hunter sat on the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his head in his hands. He looked nothing like the fit frat president he had once been and even less like the raging roided out muscle bull he had become. His limbs were shrunken and spindly, face blotchy and his dick sitting flaccid between his legs was minute, like a sad baby carrot.

“Don’t look at me.” He shrieked when he saw Leon “Haven’t you done enough.” 

Leon felt a wave of both intense satisfaction and pity. He wanted to both laugh and also to help his poor pathetic former rival. He chose the more compassionate of the two. “Hunter let me help,” Leon said in as calming a voice as he could manage. 

“No! You made me like this. Just go away” Hunter said voice cracking as he buried his head in his hands, to hide the tears Leon suspected. 

Leon opened his mouth and then closed it. Edward with his 61 charisma would undoubtedly know just what to say to calm Hunter down and get him to open up. Leon however had no such ability and so instead chose to just stand there and wait for Hunter to say more, blocking any path out.

Eventually, when it was clear Leon wasn’t leaving like he asked Hunter did. “Cassy left me. She’s a Flower Power Hippie now that makes plants grow just by being near them and I’m this.” He gestured to his shriveled skinny body then stifled a few more sobs.

“Hey, at least you're level six,” Leon said trying to comfort him. His words only made Hunter sob harder. 

“I had to pick up trash on the side of the road and give food to homeless people,” He said as if recounting traumatic memories from war. “And all I got were these stupid perks that made me feel all guilty and stuff for the way I acted.”

“How awful,” Leon said though his sarcasm was lost on Hunter.

Hunter looked up at Leon’s towering bulk which filled the entire stall with a mix of disgust, admiration, and jealousy. It was a strange reversal of the way not too long ago Leon might have looked at Hunter. “I wouldn’t bother with these quests except these stupid notifications tell me if I reach level twenty I get to change classes to something called a Repentant, which has to be better than the Wretch class,” Hunter said. It was clear he had been itching to confide in someone. “I’ll never get there though.” Hunter said again slipping into self pity “My level six quest is impossible. I have to apologize to someone I wronged.” 

Leon did his best not to laugh. “You could apologize to me,” Leon said and Hunter looked up confused. “You know for trying to strangle me,” Leon clarified.

“Oh,” Hunter said. He took a second to compose himself as if he was about to receive a lethal injection. “I’m sorry for trying to kill you, two times I guess. My memory is a little hazy after I got that class and I wasn’t thinking clearly but the first time I guess was my fault or whatever. I just felt threatened by you and took it out in unhealthy ways.” 

Leon was surprised by the genuineness of the apology. So too was Hunter, his face twisted in confusion then into a smile as the number above his head changed to a seven and he leveled up. The physical changes were small, Leon suspected Hunter was only receiving a fractions of stat points each level, but his pale skin grew a shade more rosy and his body which looked like it could be knocked over by a breeze grew a bit more hale. 

“That felt kind of good,” Hunter admitted sitting up straight. “Maybe I should apologize to Cassie as well.” 

“If you want I have a whole table of folks you could apologize to out there,” Leon said gesturing outside. 

Hunter opened his mouth to say something but a colossal boom drowned him out. The entire bathroom shook and Leon only stayed standing due to his level 16 Indomitable perk. Hunter cowered into himself and lifted his hands to shield his head. “Stay here,” Leon said before rushing out of the bathroom into absolute chaos. 

It took a moment for Leon to process what he was seeing. A hole had been blown in the side of the bar. While most of the students were hurriedly fleeing out the door Leon’s friends along with a few other high-level students were actively engaged in combat. Leon cursed when he saw with who. 

A notification filled his vision. 

“Combat quest: defeat Alvis, level 32 Technocrat. Reward for success: XP, Spiked Pauldron of the Bashful Basher.” 

Under the notification were two options.

“Accept this quest. Yes or no?” 

Leon quickly accepted the quest and then joined the fray. Trent and Edward were in the process of evacuating the bar, Trent causing pieces of rubble to float into the air and Edward calming people with his words. Tag had ducked behind the bar and was furiously mixing drinks. That left only Olivia and Ruth facing off against Alvis. 

Their third roommate had clearly not been stagnant over the months since his plan had come to fruition. He had made some serious upgrades to mech, which was no longer a blocky behemoth but now a sleek smaller suit armor that moved with alarming swiftness.

Beams of white energy shot from a cannon on the mech’s back harrying Ruth and Olivia. Olivia deflected each one with her shield while Ruth dodged them swinging her gigantic sword with impossible ease. Each hit of her sword were blocked by a holographic hexagonal shields that swung up around the mech before becoming invisible again. 

Leon felt felt his Sentimental Strength perk activate. The perk lent him a boost of strength when he felt intense emotions, like sadness or pain or arousal as Edward had been delighted to discover. At that moment all he felt was rage. 

Leon charged forward and roared, his voice dropping several octaves and becoming thunderously loud. Olivia who was had been slowly pushed back by Alvis’s onslaught surged forward and Ruth redoubled her efforts, both bolstered by his level fifteen ability Battle Cry which granted a boost of strength and courage to allies who heard his shout.

Alvis seeing Leon turned to face him. He dismissively activated a technique which caused an electrified net to spring towards Ruth shocking and entangling her. The level sixteen Combat Medic from before rushed to her side as did Olivia, blocking the beams of energy sent to finish Ruth off. 

“Look who is all grown up. You got bigger” Alvis said, amplified voice sounding more sane then it did the last time they faced. 

“And you got uglier,” Leon said though he couldn’t actually see Alvis through the thick metal of the suit. “What do you want?” 

“I want your boyfriend to release me from that chastity spell,” Alvis said swinging a metal fist at Leon. Leon activated his Inner Strength ability and caught it, though the force still sent his feet sliding back into a table flipped over by the blast. 

“Not going to happen,” Leon growled. 

“Then I’ll just have to kill you both,” Alvis said bringing the mech's other hand over his head to smash down onto Leon. 

“That’s not going to happen either,” Leon yelled diving out of the way. He rolled behind the bar right next to Tag who wordlessly handed him a faintly glowing yellow shot. Leon downed it and felt his muscles swell slightly and his mind speed up. He nodded thanks to Tag then dove over the bar. 

Trent and Edward having finished evacuating the students ran up to his side while Olivia helped Ruth to her feet and the two came to join as well so that they were all facing down Alvis, ready to give the technocrat a true fight. 

Most great adventures in video games tend to end with a defeated bad guy, a kingdom set back in order, and a victorious hero. Our’s ends with a bar fight with a mech. That's because real life tends not to be so simple, and because this was not the end for Leon and Edward it was only the beginning. 

[yukidragon]

Sunshine in Hell Height Headcanons

It's June 15, which as many of you know from this official profile, that it's Sunny Day Jack's birthday today!

You might also know that it's [Redacted]'s birthday thanks to this ominous picture Sauce shared last year on this day. Funny how these two totally distinct characters share a birthday isn't it? 🤔

Anyway, I was hoping to have written something for this year to celebrate, but like last year my spoons are way too few and far between. I was also hoping to do something self-indulgent for my own birthday, but same lack of spoons halted me there too.

So, until I can stock up on more metaphorical utensils to help me do the stuff I feel like doing, I'm going to celebrate by rambling a little bit about some headcanon details.

Sunshine in Hell differs from the game demos in a number of ways, and one of them is Jack's height. As you might've seen from the profile link, Jack is canonically 6'2", but in my personal headcanon continuity, I decided to make the gentle giant quite a bit taller than that. Because it amuses me, and I struggle with imagining Jack as shorter than Cove Holden.

When deciding how tall to make Jack in my stories, I also decided to do a height chart for him and a few other characters as well. It helps to better imagine characters interacting when you can see how tall they are compared to others.

Yes, I threw in a few extra love interests to the mix, as well as a couple other MCs. I was curious to see how tall Alice would be compared to her sisters, and I had to throw in their love interests as well.

As an aside, it tickles me that even after I made Jack significantly taller, he's shorter than Bo's horny "Feed Me" form.

For those of you that need the conversion from centimeters to feet and inches, or have trouble reading the image, I'll write them down for easy reference.

Alice: 162 cm / 5'4"

Jack: 198 cm / 6'6"

Shaun: 178 cm / 5'10"

Nick: 173 cm / 5'8"

Ian: 170 cm / 5'7"

Bo: 180 cm / 5'11"

Barbie: 184 cm / 6'0"

Bo "Feed Me" form: 216 cm / 7'1"

Elias: 185 cm / 6'1"

Coraline: 172 cm / 5'8"

As you can see, Shaun, Nick, and Ian stuck with the canon heights in their profiles. It's just Jack who got a height increase because it's what I imagined his height to be from the start, and Sunshine in Hell is basically my headcanons that diverge from the game's canon, so I do what I want. It's also fun to imagine scary yandere Jack towering over every single one of the love interests. It adds to the intimidation factor too despite his gentle giant persona.

Bo and Elias don't have canon heights like the SDJ love interests, so I mostly just did whatever felt right to me for them. Bo's regular height was influenced by the mafia AU picture Sauce drew. It served as a very good height comparison chart all on its own. As you can see, Bo is just tall enough to reach Jack's smile if you don't count the ears and poofy hair.

All credit to the awesome Sauce for their lovely art of course and for feeding my headcanons. As always, I want to link to the SnaccPop Patreon as gratitude for being cool with me using their art in my posts. If you're a a free or paying member, consider checking out an important survey that went up to help guide the team in their future endeavors.

Bo looks so short compared to Jack, doesn't he? In my headcanon land, it's just a matter of perspective, and next to other people Bo is pretty darn tall. Though he's just one teeny tiny inch shorter than his puppy.

You bet your sweet bippy Barbie takes smug satisfaction in that one inch height superiority. Bo talks so big as a big bad alpha dog, but the puppy he's trying to dominate is just a bit bigger and badder than he ever expected.

Of course, Bo gets to turn it right back around on Barbie with his monster sized "Feed Me" form. Like werewolves that become huge compared to their human selves, when Bo's inner beast comes out to play, he adds on quite a lot of height and muscle. He towers over even Jack! Still, even when super sized, he's no match for Barbie.

As you can see, despite being the eldest child, Alice is shorter than her two younger sisters, especially Barbie! They got more of their dad's height genes, while Alice took more after their mom in that department. Barbie and Coraline are quite a bit taller than average, a fact that Barbie revels in, and Coraline can find a little awkward sometimes, especially during moments of weakness. It can be hard to help someone stand back up and walk when they're much taller than you are after all. It leads to some embarrassing moments for poor Coraline.

On that same note of surprisingly tall people with chronic illnesses, I thought it would be interesting if Elias would have been a very tall man if not for his illness. There's no canon height for him and he's floating with Jack and Bo in the Christmas picture, so it's hard to go with a comparative height. So, I went with what felt narratively interesting to me. With his legs being twisted, and him being hunched over with a cane, he probably appeared shorter than he actually was. It's hard to see his exact height with his lower half ghostly and indistinct as well. It's only when he actually bothers to give himself legs and stand with both feet planted firmly on the ground that he can show off just how tall he really is.

While I'm on the topic of height, I wonder if one of Ian's insecurities was his height. Some men have issues if they're shorter than their peers, and Ian is the shortest of the love interests. I can imagine it certainly didn't help if he was bullied for being short along with his general "nerdy" appearance back in school.

Still, Ian has nothing to complain about at the height he's at as a fully grown adult. Even if the other love interests are taller than he is, Ian is still above average for men in the US. He's just got the misfortune of being the shortest guy in a group of very tall people. At least he doesn't have to worry about taking the bottom spot in the height chart like Alice.

Yes, Alice is a bit self-conscious about being so short compared to her peers, even if technically she's also above average height for a woman in the US. She feels especially tiny when standing next to Jack.

Though, admittedly, Alice does find it very nice to feel tiny and delicate when Jack sweeps her up into his arms. It makes her feel less self-conscious about how chubby she is when her big strong giant of a boyfriend can carry her around so easily. Once she gets over the initial fear that he might drop her, she'll soon look forward to being whisked away by her silly clown.

Oh, and if you're wondering about Mary's height... I'm still debating if I want her to be around Alice's height or a little taller. She had the same eye color in both lives due to the eyes being windows to the soul, but there were other physical differences due to different parents introducing different genetics. I need to ruminate on that fine of detail more and see what feels more interesting to me narratively.

Though even if Mary was as tall as Barbie, she'll still be short enough for Joseph to sweep into her arms since he's just as much of a giant now as he was then. Not that it would stop him from trying even if his sunshine was bigger than him. Nothing will stop Joseph/Jack from showing his love for his sunshine!

I think I'll wrap things up on that fluffy note. I hope y'all enjoyed me going off on a headcanon ramble after such a long time. With any luck, I'll be able to get to answering some asks soon. Thanks for reading!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 10

Maximum Loser

Welcome back to Fantasy High where the Abernant sisters are having sandwiches in front of the burnt ruins of their old mansion. You know, normal sibling activities! As we learned last week, Aelwyn is working for Kipperlilly (Adaine calls her Cottoncandy Bitchfuck which is one of my faves just for the levels of obvious disdain and degrees of separation from the original name) and Adaine wants all the info ASAP. Here is a rundown of what Aelwyn tells her (along with speculation on my part):

KP seems to be loaded in a way that isn’t connected to her parents' jobs (Dad is a realtor and mom is a clerk for the treasurer’s office). [Could she possibly be getting the money from her party member with a rich dragon ancestor? And could she be using her mom’s government job to get inside info somehow?]

KP has been employing Aelwyn as her “arcane errand girl”. She’s basically been getting her magical contraband which Aelwyn figures are spell components. Adaine asks why their party wizard Oisin can’t just do it and Aelwyn says that KP was very adamant about him being “protected”. [Does that mean protected as in not in trouble so he doesn’t get expelled and mess up their party comp or protected as in “I don’t want him to know what I’m doing because he wouldn’t approve”?]

KP never had Aelwyn steal a cloud rider engine for her but she did have Aelwyn download schematics for one which she thinks was so that it would be on her browser history not KP’s. [Aelwyn, do NOT get framed for this girl’s crimes I’m BEGGING you.]

Similarly, KP never texts Aelwyn any info. They always talk in person so she keeps clean at least on paper. 

There are two specific things that Aelwyn had to procure that were kind of hard to find because they’re more divine than arcane: Devil’s Nectar and Ambrosia. [We don’t learn what the properties of those are exactly but they seem pretty clearly to be the divine and infernal versions of the same thing. Maybe they can make a god or a devil? Sounds like it’s part of the resurrection plan–or maybe they want to raise a new god?]

Anyway, Aelwyn promises to shoot Adaine a text the next time KP reaches out to her so she can spy via scrying (I'm reminded of Spy, Tongue, Curse again). She also shows Adaine her tiny apartment full of senior cats and microwave dinner trays that’s sorely in need of a deep clean. Adaine invites her to swing by Mordred to get her laundry done and maybe hang out and Aelwyn seems tentatively receptive, even though the aggressive positivity of the house and its residents (who she does ultimately care about) majorly grates on her. 

[Also! Not plot relevant but their relationship progress is in full swing with open “I love yous”, only slightly undercut “I believe in yous”, and kisses blown as they say goodbye. I’m trying to be super streamlined with this recap so I can get it finished on time but I had to at least quickly mention how delighted I was by this scene which I have watched so many times. They’re doing it! Sisters!]

We next cut over to Riz who is in the car with his mom and he’s so so so over this whole semester. He keeps talking about everything that’s going on with the bored, anxious, almost whiny, but mostly resigned tone that makes her pull over and force him into a nap. Here are the mystery relevant bits of their conversation pre and post nap:

Sklonda’s case was defending a married firbolg couple–Alonso and Hespia Loam. Frosty Faire was supposed to be held at their farm but then they were accused of embezzling and the event pulled. [Firblog are giant-kin if that matters.]

They maintained their innocence and Sklonda believed them. The case was actually going to be a slam dunk because they found forgeries and docs submitted on their behalf. But then they got murdered so the case was over. [Forgeries and docs submitted on their behalf reminds me of Lucy’s god change form.]

Sklonda thought this case was strange because there’s no financial incentive to frame the loams. [Sounds like the motive could have been just moving the festival to a different location to me.]

The reason they were under suspicion was that amounts of money matching what was embezzled from Frosty Faire were deposited into the Loams' account but Sklonda was able to show that that was all bogus and that the Loams didn’t even use online banking and that a Bastion City VPN was involved. But again, before they could track that down beyond “somewhere in Solace” it got shut down due to the murders (which the cops are now investigating btw but this is a Brennan story so how useful will they really be? [This is also giving me KP vibes but in fairness, that girl is just suspicious.]

Lola Embers is the one who recommended the move from Loam Farms to the Thistlespring Tree. [A possible Ruben request since he’s her client?]

Riz also tells Sklonda all about what’s going on with the demon stuff and the Lucy stuff and the campaign stuff. Sklonda is concerned about the demon stuff but she’s honestly more concerned about Riz breaking his back and losing sleep over Kristen’s campaign. She’s very fired up and a bit incredulous that he’d work so hard for his friends who, from her POV, are always slightly bullying him (“Your name isn’t The Ball. It’s Riz!”). And, while she’s on it, he would be a great candidate himself! Riz assures her that their dynamic is fine and then worries her again right away by saying he’s absolutely gonna check out the crime scene. She sighs deeply and says they can check it out together because she knows she’s not talking her son out of it. (She also says she’ll try and get some info from her old co-workers but again, cops in a Brennan world so we’ll see how useful they are.)

Post Grix exploding, Jace hosts an impromptu assembly: Things are bad y’all! With Aguefort gone and Grix blown up (not to mention Yolanda dead), they’re getting to the point where it’s not clear that the school will be able to continue functioning. 

The whole cleric track is going pass/fail which none of the Rat Grinders seem to have strong reactions to (Ruben smirks and Buddy looks confused, but the rest look bored or unfazed). This news especially sucks for Freshmen and Sophomores who won’t be able to take the Last Stand exam Porter mentioned in an earlier episode. Some upperclassmen who maybe weren’t doing so hot (like Max and his party) look kinda stoked. Fig does insight on Jace and her roll is low (5) but he seems like he’s sincerely stressed about this unforeseen situation. 

Post assembly, Hilariel calls Fig (after 18 missed calls to Fabin’s phone which is on Do Not Disturb) to invite everyone over to spend The Lunar Yulenear (fantasy Christmas) with them (and also inform her that Gilear’s string of good luck is still going strong. He cracked his back while limboing and grained 2 inches in height!). Fig turns that into invites for everyone at Mordred (including Aelwyn who is a wanted criminal in Falinel and Sandra-Lynn who is Gilear’s unfaithful ex–wild crew). Fabian wants the chance to talk to his mom but by the time Fig hands over the phone, she’s already hung up. 

Riz fills everyone in on the Loam Farms situation and Gorgug worries that the soil at his house is corrupted now. Adaine reminds everyone that Fig is still super cursed and they should probably start looking into that soon. Kristen and Fig get naked for no reason so we’re gonna move on from that to Fabian getting a text from Mazey. Apparently she's just gotten some big news and she doesn’t know exactly who to talk to. He rushes away from his naked friends as quickly as he can (so valid) and goes to meet up with her. (While he’s en route, Riz wonders if the RG’s killed rats were being killed sacrificially and Fig wonders if Lucky FROSTblade had anything to do with the FROSTyfolk festival). 

Fabian meets up with Mazey who congratulates him for killing Grix since he mega-sucked and was shooting nets at kids. Then, she says that she knows that Fabian and his party have kinda always had the school’s back over the past few years and she trusts him which is why she’s telling him what she’s about to say. Remember how anything Aguefort says, even as a bit, is canon? Well, apparently he said once in an email that if there’s no principal then the school becomes a democracy and the student body president becomes principal. Fabian is baffled: surely the vice principal would become principal, right? But no. The system is set up so that there’s always one all powerful principal and one VP who is supposed to be Kalvaxus (remember, he was supposed to be imprisoned there forever). So she’d have to take classes (has to be a student enrolled in good faith) AND be principal and she doesn’t feel like she can do it. Fabian is awkward but encouraging and says he’ll do his best to help her and ask his friends for advice. When he does, Riz right away is like, "They’re gonna kill her, dude,” so Fabian rushes back and invites (practically begs) Mazey over after school so he can keep an eye on her. 

Once school is out, Fig does her bodyguard thing and secretly trails Mazey so she gets to Seacaster Manor safely. Once she’s there, she and Fabian have a bit of an awkward beat and then Mazey, who has clearly misread the situation, tries to make out with him. Fabian pulls back which makes Mazey confused and embarrassed. Fabian really quickly tries to reassure her that it’s not that he didn’t wanna kiss her. He’s just not in that mode right now and she’s in danger and they’re trying to kill her. She has NO idea what he’s talking about so he Facetimes Riz and the Mordred crew to explain. Mazey says that killing her wouldn’t make the killer the new Principal–it’s not Pokemon Champion rules. But Riz says that every person who’s had the top spot has been sidelined or killed so it’s safer to be careful. Maybe killing her would prompt an early election and whoever wins will be promoted early. She asks if this suspicion is just because they hate the Rat Grinders and Riz says that they have good reasons to be suspicious. They are all outraged though when Mazey says that the Ratgrinders famously hate them and have since Freshman year. [Hilarious that they were apparently publicly seething and haven’t been on the BK’s radar at all.]

Anyway, Mazey says she appreciates the concern but rushes to leave, embarrassed. Fabian tries to salvage the awkward encounter and tell Mazey that his reaction was about how stressed and worried he is, not about how he feels about her and Mazey seems genuinely concerned about him. Like, as a person. Is he eating? Is he sleeping? Is he being cared for in this big empty house? Fabian musters some bravado about how he’s a legend and the legend continues but it’s mixed in with some super obvious red flags about making his house a place people want to come to so he won’t be alone. Mazey says she’d still want to hang with him even if he wasn’t a Maximum Legend and then leaves to his cavernous, home, solo. 

Back to Adaine! Her next big roll is Mystery and she wants to learn about the giants and their gods. She uses a portent to get a 27 (which she needs because clues cost more right now) and here’s what she learns:

So first off, Ruvina is a Seasonal god (Winter) vs Sol, Helio, Cass, and Galicaea who are Celestial gods (Sun, Moon).

A bridal gift would only be given to the spouse of a sibling so that means that the missing dead god is Ruvina’s sibling. Brennan specifically mentions how hard/weird/complicated it would be to be prevented by Oblivati Mori from speaking of a spouse or sibling. 

There’s no mention of the missing god but there are mentions of the OTHER seasonal gods so Adaine can determine by process of elimination that the missing god is the summer one. 

She wonders if Sol or Helio stole the summer domain since they’re sun gods but Brennan said if they did, it wasn’t in one violent act. There’s no obvious crusade or anything like that. 

There is a certain point where “Sun” starts being capitalized like a name (like how in the Bible God is He not he). 

The bridal gift is only mentioned in early texts, not recent ones. Recent texts have a lot of mentions of fire. 

She doesn’t find any text concerning the gods followers. She does however find text that says “Beware the blades of the red fire”. These seem to be connected to the shatter star rage crystals but there's no clear timeline of them showing up once the god died. It seems like they existed at the same time. 

So, a lot of info but no big Aha! moment yet. 

She rolls Work for her third track and fails so she takes a stress token (up to three now). She only rolls well enough to not get fired (which, girl, just get fired! Make money another way! Ask your newly caring sister for some funds and don’t ask where she got them!). 

Lastly she rolls to relax but fails (been there girl) and has a deeply unsatisfying massage given to her by Lydia. 

Kristen is up next and her first roll is Popularity (makes sense) on the middle schoolers (you lost me). In fairness to Ally, there is method to their madness. They said in the Adventuring Party that the idea was that the school is across the street from where the bodies were found so maybe they could do some recon. Still, on the face of it, bonkers plan and Riz is low key wondering if his mom was right about them picking the wrong candidate. Anyway, she passes and now has advantage on charming any new middle schooler she meets lol. Brennan also makes her roll Perception and on a 14 gives her nothing. Ominous! 

The second thing she’s interested in is Relationships and she wants to talk to Lydia and also Buddy. With Lydia, she wants to know if there’s a way for them to talk to Bakur. Lydia says that Bakur is conscious and aware but she can’t talk to him because it would compromise the security of his gem prison. However, if they come up with a safe way to talk to him she’s game to participate, especially since she’ll def be a target if stuff with Bakur’s god is going down. Lydia also mentions that it seems like Cass might have been especially vulnerable in the Astral Food Court which makes Kristen even more suspicious of Kalina than she already was since she was the one who suggested that plan in the first place. 

Riz does Detect Evil on Lydia with his necktie so he can recognize Bakur’s magical aura on anyone else in the future and Brennan says that will also give him the ability to recognize anyone connected to Bakur’s god in the future. (Riz also says he wants to do the same on a Helioic cleric and the moon, presumably for the same reason but he doesn’t explicitly get to it this session). 

They then check on Fig to try to figure out what the heck her deal is and they find a lot lol. There are four main things happening with her aura. The strongest is the anarchy sigil on her forehead that marks her as the Archdevil of Rebellion. The second is her burgeoning paladin rage aura which matches Lydia's but seems more fiery and is also unaligned. The third is her warlock mojo which is unaligned as well. And the fourth is the lemony yellow aura of her curse. Her being a tiefling doesn’t even crack the top five of what’s going on with her apparently! 

Anyway, on to her second relationship thing–Buddy. Kristen finds him putting a Rat Grinders sticker on her locker which she peels off, clearly annoyed. There are three main important parts of that conversation which are as follows:

Kristen asks if there’s any rage talk happening at the Helioic church right now and Buddy says that Sol is angry–lots of people left the church during the months of night situation which makes sense. Worshiping the sun god during eternal night feels like a losing proposition. 

Buddy thinks it would be a great idea for his grandpa–Helioic evangelist Bobby Dawn–to become the new Cleric teacher to save everyone from going Pass/Fail. Kristen thinks that sounds like a nightmare and I have to agree. Buddy says that it’s fine because the cleric teacher has to worship *some* god, right? Might as well be Helio. But we know that’s untrue because Yolanda gave up her active connection with a specific divinity in order to minister effectively to her whole class. And I can’t imagine whoever raised Buddy would make a fair teacher who’s welcoming to all faiths. 

Buddy wants to “take Kristen into counsel” about her brother who he thinks is going down a dangerous path as he’s being exposed to various worldly elements at Aguefort. I have no idea what Buddy considers a dangerous path–for all we know Bucky is actually fully fine and coming into his own. Buddy offers to take Bucky under his wing and Kristen casually but very firmly says, “I’ll never let you do that.” [She really should check on him though, just in general.]

They close the conversation off with some faux cheerful/polite sniping about how Kristen’s god died again (point Buddy) that ends with Kristen saying that Cass will come back again as opposed to Helio who only came back once (point Kristen!). [She also tells Buddy, as she’s wont to do, that she met Helio and thought he was a total frat boy loser–just mentioning it in case it comes up again. He seems pretty sure that Kristen will come around though. Tres prodigal son.] 

Fig’s turn! She aces her Paladin, Bard, and Warlock classes–A+ across the board. [She gets to roll her Bard class at a DC 5 even though it’s her second track for reasons Brennan doesn’t tell us. We also learn that Lucilla Lullaby is now on sabbatical after her conversation with Fig. Girl, go to therapy.]

Anyway, Fig is working with Porter and Zara and they want to talk to her. She’ll have to pick her pact soon and though she’s doing really well, they’re not quite buying that her powers are coming from her deviation to Cass or doubt. Porter recognizes that protective, German Shepherd energy in her and when Fig floats rage (protective rage) as what’s motivating her, he has a positive reaction. Him jumping on the rage thing would already be a little suspicious but the next thing he says is, "If there was some other power like that that you knew could support Cassandra, [and] was connected to your friend Kristen, maybe that's a worthwhile thing to explore.” And I very much want to know if that’s a Porter nudge or a Brennan nudge because that really sounds like he’s hinting towards Cass’s sibling. Incidentally, Porter is an Oath of Ancestors paladin and an earth gensai since we’re keeping track of affiliations. 

For her next track, Fig wants to roll Mustery and ooh boy, Nat 20!

Here’s her bonkers/genius plan: She disguises herself as Wanda and boards a bus she knows Ruben will be on from all her recon. Adaine casts Nystul's Magic Aura on her to make sure that any detection spells will ping as whatever they want them to and not Fig. When Ruben boards the bus, she says that when she made a hasty exit after the festival she was breaking up with her boyfriend and when he asks what music she’s listening to, she shows him a fake episode of the Complicated Women Podcast about Lucy Frostblade. Ruben is instantly rattled and starts looking for the podcast but “Wanda” says it was an early release episode she got because she knows the producers. She lies and says they’re talking bout how they found Lucy’s body and Ruben says he used to be in a party with her. When Fig asks what she was like, Ruben speaks positively of her. She says she was noble and stuck to her guns. He’s really itching to get more info about the podcast and Fig says that she’ll send him the MP3 if he gives her an email. Ruben gives her Lola’s email (They have SOL instead of AOL in Solace) and his cell and then Fig Dimension Doors away, mysterious as ever. 

For her final action, she tries to roll Relationships for Riz but she doesn’t roll high enough to catch him with how busy he is. She still leaves him a nice note and signs it from Gorgug. In response to that, Riz sends back a very long, gushy text that’s so grateful for the check in. Gorgug has no idea what he’s talking about but returns the gesture by making him an Artificer Infusion: A Medal of Wit which gives advantage on Int checks and throws for an hour (one time use). Cute all around!

Let’s close out the episode with Fabian. Popularity: 29. He’s maxed out the track. Any stranger he meets at Aguefort is charmed by him for a minute. He gets a neck tattoo that says Maximum Legend. For Mystery, he wants to check in with his dad to ask about Hell/Curse stuff (but he clearly mostly just wants to hear from his dad). He fails and takes a stress to succeed with the help of the AV Club. Skrank and Shellford help him set up a little broadcasting booth that can reach the Nine Hells assuming Bill has the correct equipment. He tries to broadcast and the equipment is working correctly but Brennan rolls a 3 in front of the board so he gets no response. He speaks into the void about how he’s a Maximum Legend while in his house, utterly alone. 

He rolls for Fighter: B. He rolls for Owlbears. Fail. He rolls for Bard–the DC is 25 and he gets a 24. He’s at four stress so the next token will be a rage token. The table persuades him to take Fig’s cursed Bardic instead. He gets a single point which gets him to the 25 which is a D. Then Brennan gives him a Con save. He fails. Brennan says that, with that fail, he loses control of an important bodily function. He gets to choose which one it is and in front of who like a nasty game of Clue and…look. I’m gonna try and say this as delicately as possible but Lou is not making this easy for me. Lou’s decision is that he will lose control of his bowels in the middle of bard class. That’s as far into it as I’m gonna go–if you want the gritty details you’ll have to get them from the man himself. 

Terpsicore, his teacher, is very supportive and kind about it, but one of his classmates, Quincy, takes his lute and breaks it, calls Fabian a Maximum Loser, and quits Aguefort on the spot. He headbutts the door, making his head bleed, and says, “I fucking hate this school!” 

Which, on the one hand, valid sentiment to the latest bout of (almost literal in this instance) Aguefort bullshit. But headbutting the door to the point that he’s bleeding? Sounds a little bit like rage star effects to me. Is it connected? Or was this just the last shitty straw for Quincy? We’ll have to tune in next time to find out!

Honor Roll

Fig for Her Clutch Investigation Skills

Fig has honestly been killing it just in general lately. A pluses across the board? What a GPA jump! But I have to particularly commend her for skillfully keeping Ruben on the hook the way she has. This is maybe her most perfect ratio of bit to plan so far. It’s so funny but also going so well. And that Nat 20? Chef’s Kiss. 

Detention 

Lou (the player) for Describing [REDACTED]in Graphic Detail

I don’t care if Quincy was affected by the rage star or not. He was right. That *was* nasty. 

[exdraghunt]

Secret Solonoid gift

This one goes out to @cao-the-dreamer

Mirage/Noah, explicit, sticky

also on Ao3

Though Mirage had been on earth long enough to pick up much of the culture, he still sometimes laughed at jokes that Noah didn’t get. Cybertronian humor, he would always say, waving away his human friend’s confused looks.

This time, it was about Noah complaining about a stuck solenoid valve. For some reason, he couldn’t get the word ‘valve’ out of his mouth without garnering giggles from his Cybertronian friend. Mirage was worse than a group of 8th grade boys in a science class.

“Alright, what’s so funny?” Noah finally asked, hands on his hips.

“Nothing, nothing.” Mirage waved him off. “Cybertronian humor.”

“Nu-uh. That ain’t gonna fly this time, amigo.” Noah fixed him with his best stern look. “Out with it.”

“It’s just. You know. Valves.” Mirage laughed again, obviously finding the word hilarious.

“Yeah. Valves.” Noah didn’t see the connection. “Little things that turn on or off the flow of liquid.”

“But they’re also. Well, you know.” Mirage gestured at his crotch.

“No, I don’t know.” Noah put his hands on his hips. “Explain it to me.”

Mirage made a very illustrative gesture with his hands. A circle with thumb and forefinger on one hand, pointing with the other. Finger in and out of the circle. An, apparently, universal gesture.

“Wait, you guys fuck?” Noah exclaimed in surprise. Yeah, he knew that Cybertronians were sentient and alive, more so than any ‘robot’, but he hadn’t thought they did that.

“Well, yeah.” Mirage said, like it was obvious. “’Cept we call it interfacing, but basically the same thing, right?”

‘Basically the same thing,’ as if learning that the giant alien robots had sex wasn’t totally ground-shaking. “And you call your vaginas ‘valves’?”

“What else would we call them?”

Well, Noah didn’t have a good answer for that. He would never be able to look at Arcee the same way. “So, your lady bots have these valves?”

“No, everybody has them.” Mirage corrected him.

Noah looked at Mirage’s crotch with a bit of morbid curiosity. “Do you, you know, have one?”

“Of course.” Mirage grinned. “Do you wanna see?”

Did he? His brain said ‘no way’ but what came out of his mouth was “Sure.”

The sound of a transformation was familiar to him now, even when it was on a small scale. Plating on Mirage’s crotch clicked and folded away revealing what was underneath.

It looked. Well, it looked like a vagina. Kind of. Noah had never seen one in person, just in photos and dirty magazines, but there were puffy lips bordering a barely-visible hole, and a glowing node poking out at the very top. The main difference is that this was made of metal, and enormous. Noah leaned in a little closer, trying to figure out if the faint glow he was seeing was some sort of lights inside the vagina. No, valve. “Wait, are there lights in there?”

“Heck yeah.” Mirage helpfully spread the lips of his valve, showing off the circular opening and yes, the ring of glowing blue lights inside. “Got a few mods back in the day. Blinged out my valve and my spike.”

“Spike?”

Another micro-transformation, and suddenly Noah was looking at the biggest dick he’d ever seen. It was metal as well, made up of tiny, interlocking plates, and a double row of blue lights decorated the underside from root to tip.

“Wait, you’ve got a dick and a vag?” Was all Noah could think to say.

“Yes?” Mirage seemed amused. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Uh, no. Humans generally have one or the other.”

“Huh, weird.” Mirage looked at Noah expectantly. “Well. I showed you mine. Aren’t you going to show me yours?”

Which was how Noah ended up standing naked in front of the robot that was both his car and his best friend. His dick was semi-hard, probably from embarrassment, and he shivered slightly in the cool air of the garage.

“It does look a lot like a spike.” Mirage commented. He reached forward and ran the pad of one enormous finger down Noah’s length. When the human shivered this time, it wasn’t due to the cold. “But fuzzy. And what’re these?” He gently prodded Noah’s balls.

“Hey, careful with those.” Noah flinched backwards. “They’re balls, and they’re delicate.”

“Weird.” Mirage said again. He used his thumb and forefinger to give the dangling sack a soft squeeze. “Squishy.”

Noah let out a soft moan, which cut off abruptly in surprise. The two stared at eachother for a moment.

“Oh, you like that?” A shit-eating grin spread across Mirage’s face as he did it again, before running his fingers up to the tip of Noah’s dick. Which was now completely hard and standing at attention. “Want more?”

Suddenly, Noah did. It had been awhile since he’d had a good fuck. But then there was the real question: was he about to fuck a giant alien robot?

Apparently, he was. Though he wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to work. “Uh. Not sure how anything is going to fit.” Because Noah was far too small to do anything for Mirage, and there was no way the mech’s anything was going to fit into his human friend.

Mirage let out a thoughtful hum, “You sure you don’t have a valve?”

“Pretty sure. Closest thing I’ve got is-“ Noah turned around and bent over slightly. He’d bottomed more than once in play, but he was no size queen. There was no way Mirage’s enormous spike was going in him.

Fortunately, Mirage seemed to come to the same conclusion. But then, he stuck out his smallest finger and gave Noah a significant look.

Oh, okay. That actually might work. Except-

“Wait, wait wait.” Noah snatched up his pants. That finger was absolutely not going inside of him dry. “Let me just- We need lube.”

“You don’t make your own?” Mirage questioned.

“Not from there, no. I’ll be right back-“ Noah tugged on his pants and ran out of the garage, heading for his room. There was a half-full bottle helpfully sitting on his nightstand. Snatching it up, Noah hustled back to the garage.

Inside, he found Mirage leaning back and lazily stroking his spike. Root to tip, root to tip, his fingers slowly squeezed and rubbed. He looked up when Noah opened the door. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” Noah held up the bottle and shucked his pants again. With practiced fingers, he squirted out a generous helping and bent over slightly to prepare himself. It had been awhile, and he was tight.

When Noah thought he was ready (or, ready as he’d ever be), he handed the bottle over to Mirage. It looked comically small, pinched between the mech’s thumb and forefinger. “Use that. Lots of it.”

Mirage dutifully emptied the rest of the bottle over his pinkie finger, then tossed it aside and leaned forward. With his clean hand, he scooped up Noah and settled the human in his lap. Fortunately, by this time, Noah was rather used to being picked up unexpectedly by giant robots and laid himself over Mirage’s thigh. Head down, ass up.

No matter how prepared he thought he was, Noah still tensed up when that large, wet digit began to probe at his entrance. It pushed its way in slowly, wiggling past the first tight ring of muscle. Noah took a few deep breaths and tried to relax, though he still let out a shocked grunt when Mirage’s finger finally popped in.

“Slowly, slowly.” Noah arched his back and tried to get used to the stretch. Mirage’s finger wasn’t much like any dick he had taken, being rather hard and made of metal. His muscles clenched around the intrusion, encountering no give in response.

Mirage crooked his finger a little, rubbing against Noah’s prostrate and wringing a moan from the human.

“Oh, is that a sweet spot?” Mirage grinned and did it again, rocking his finger in and out slowly.

Noah rocked with that movement, his dick rubbing against a seam on Mirage’s armor. “Unh, yeah. That feels good.”

“And if I go a little faster?” Mirage sped up the movement, a wet squelch coming from every thrust. Lube spattered against Noah’s thighs and puddled on the floor.

“Shit, Mirage!” Though Noah had been cold when he first stripped, now he was anything but. Cybertronians were warm to the touch, but Mirage’s armor felt cool against Noah’s forehead. He was burning up, the fire burning in his belly spreading through his body.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mirage’s free hand rubbed up and down Noah’s spine, sending tingles through his body. Then one giant finger went up to rub the human’s hair. “You humans are so furry, it’s weird.”

“Don’t-“ Noah gasped.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make fun while you’re fucking me.” Noah’s fingers curled into a gap in Mirage’s armor, brushing the wiring underneath.

Mirage’s big thigh shuddered underneath him, and the mech made an approving noise. “Only if you do that again.”

Was this what a Cybertronian found arousing? Having their wiring played with? Noah obligingly dug his fingers deeper, hoping to god that Mirage didn’t shift and crush his hand.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff.” Mirage encouraged him, stretching his leg out a little more. Electricity crackled over his plating, sending zaps like static up Noah’s arm and making his hair stand on end.

The surge went straight to his dick which, if possible, became even harder. Noah rocked his hips more insistently, his dick sliding against the smooth plating of Mirage’s inner thigh. Another electrical surge came, and Noah came with it. He shuddered, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he erupted all over Mirage’s plating. When he came to, the finger had been removed from his ass and Mirage’s messy hand was helping hold him up.

“So, I take it you enjoyed that?” Mirage asked in his smarmy way.

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah panted, waiting for his legs to stop shaking and support his weight again. “It was pretty good.”

“Best you ever had, I bet.” Mirage said with absolutely no shame at all.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Noah wiped his mouth and stood, looking down at the mess of cum dripping down Mirage’s thigh.

“You can clean that up later.” Mirage spread his legs a little wider. “But now, I think it’s my turn.”

“Your turn.” Noah looked at his friend’s intimate bits, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to do that. “Hmm.”

He rubbed hand over Mirage’s valve, circling the glowing node at the top curiously. That got him a gasp, an encouraging sign. Moving lower, Noah slid his hand inside and rubbed against the glowing lights there.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah.” Mirage put a giant hand on Noah’s back and pushed him a little more firmly against his crotch.

Noah was shoved deeper, until his arm was buried up to his shoulder. The inside of Mirage’s valve was hot and wet, squeezing around his arm with rings of something like muscle. It was nothing like Noah’s previous experiments with fisting. It was more like he was artificially inseminating a cow or something.

Okay, not a mental image he needed in his brain while doing this. Noah formed his hand into a fist and pulled his arm out before thrusting it back in. With his other hand, he toyed with the lights decorating Mirage’s spike. He had no hope of actually wrapping a hand around the appendage, but hopefully the biolights there were as sensitive as the one on his valve.

His guess must have been correct, because Mirage’s engine turned over with a rumble, vibrating Noah’s arm as though he had stuck it under the mech’s hood. “That feeling pretty good?”

“Pit yes, don’t stop!” Mirage cried, heels sliding against the concrete floor of the garage with an ugly scraping sound. The many interlocking armor plates that covered his frame shifted and flared, vents dumping heat from his frame. There was a glow coming from his chest, from the plate that Noah knew covered the mech’s spark.

More zaps of static arced over Mirage’s frame, and all of the hair on Noah’s body stood on end as the energy traveled up his arm. Noah sent up a brief prayer that this wouldn’t end with him getting electrocuted. Or burned, as Mirage was getting alarmingly hot from his ministrations.

“Right there!” Mirage’s hand pushed on him more insistently, and Noah ended up pressed up against the mech’s soft valve.

Mirage’s glowing node was right next to his face. Noah regarded it for a moment, wondering if the copious amounts of lubricant covering the two of them would wreak havoc on his digestive system.

Deciding that the risk was worth it, Noah wrapped his mouth around the node and sucked. It was like licking a live wire, and his tongue and lips almost immediately went numb. But the way that Mirage shook underneath him, soft whines falling from his lips, was reward enough.

Noah kept himself moving. One arm pistoning in and out of Mirage’s valve, the other rubbing up and down his spike, and his mouth licking at that sensitive node.

“Primus, Noah!” Mirage threw his head back and screamed, back impacting the wall of the garage and cracking the concrete. Electricity arced over his frame like lightning, and Noah was quick to pull back just in case. He really didn’t want to get electrocuted.

An orgasm in a Cybertronian was apparently a whole production. Clear, thick lubricant gushed from Mirage’s valve, while a silver fluid like cum shot from his spike. It spurted all over Noah, coating him from head to toe. Though it tingled slightly, it didn’t seem to be corrosive or otherwise poisonous (thank god.)

“Slag-“ Mirage breathed out, frame going limp. The zaps of energy died out, and the flaring of his spark dimmed back to normal levels. “Slag. That was good. You aren’t bad at that, Noah.”

“Gee, thanks.” Noah held up his arms, watching the silver cum drip down onto the floor.

Mirage snorted, which progressed into a full on laugh. As Noah watched, the mech slumped against the wall with wheezing laughter. “Ahaha, Primus. Noah, you look- you’re covered.”

“I noticed.” Noah responded drily. “Now, you gonna help me clean up?”

Fortunately, there was a hose in the garage. And though it didn’t have hot water, the coolness was refreshing against his heated skin. Mirage helpfully scrubbed him down with a rag, making sure all the robot cum was out of his hair and washed from his back. Dirty water ran down his legs and swirled around the drain. Noah made sure to wash out his butt as well, shivered as the cold water invaded his innards.

“You know, I never a thought a human would be so good at this.” Mirage commented as he turned the hose onto himself, sluicing away the mess on his thighs. “Had practice before?”

“Not on a robot.” Noah located a towel and rubbed at his hair. “But with human guys, yeah.”

“Human guys.” Mirage snorted. “Well, you won’t need them anymore.”

Noah cocked an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah? Am I not allowed to have boyfriends now?”

“You’ve got me.” Mirage reached out to poke Noah in the chest. “You’ve been inside me, man. In every way that matters. That makes us bros. No, more than bros. We’re-“ He struggled for a moment, obviously trying to find the words in human language. “We’re like, Endura.”

“Well, if you can do that again, I might consider it.” Noah grinned. “Cause I gotta admit, that was pretty good. I won’t be opposed to discovering more.”

Mirage grinned. “I think I can do that.”

@secretsolenoid-revived

[obwjam]

More on Ian Malcolm-he’s very protective of his daughter so why wouldn’t he be the same with a tiny.

I can just imagine them all running from the dinosaurs and he’s just frantically panicking trying to find them to make sure they aren’t left behind especially since they’d hide often from bigger predators before he found and saved their life. The tiny is just absolutely frozen in shock and fear at the chaos going around them pleading and calling Ian’s name in fear. When he finds them, he scoops them up and runs while giving them soothing and comforting words. Like the tiny wants to say something sarcastic, but they’re just too afraid.

Also that scene where the T-Rex family is just pushing their bus off the cliff. I’m pretty sure if I remember correctly, Sarah falls and hits the glass and Ian goes after her to try to hold onto her if the glass shatters do she doesn’t die, but IMAGINE IF IT WAS HIS TINY BEST FRIEND WHO’S BASICALLY A TINY VERSION OF HIM WITH THE SAME ATTITUDE- when he finally reaches them, he’d just hold them comforting as he holds on for dear life trying to save them both. 😭

☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️-☀️

I think Nick Van Owen (Vince Vaughn) would also be an amazing giant. There’s a scene where a T-Rex attacks the camp in the Lost World and basically he protects Ian’s daughter in the meantime when he’s not there.

So imagine him with a tiny. He’s literally the definition of a gentle giant. In the cave, he wraps his arms around Ian’s daughter allowing her to nestle safety against his chest so she doesn’t have to see the T-Rex only cm away from their faces. IMAGINE IF HE DID THAT WITH A TINY. Like the tiny is absolutely terrified, trembling tremendously and gripping on his shirt for dear life- like they’re pulling themselves as close as possible as his giant hands are secured around them. In the scene, he’s whispering comforting words to Ian’s daughter, “it’ll be ok, everything is ok.” LIKE IMAGINE IF HE SAID THAT TO A TINY 😭

these will go so hard once i finally watch the movie and understand all the context. i'm in love with these ideas already like i'm a sucker for fluff but shit let's put our tinies in danger sometimes! let them be fearful of something other than the giant! being so comforted in the fact of these creatures so big that the tiny cant even comprehend it

[speakgeekyblog]

what a sad state for gaming

So we have all seen the news on Polygon: yet another blow to Giant Bomb. To put the cherry on top, Microsoft followed this up with a price hike across the board for their games and products.

And it was right when my disappointment reached levels so low that I needed to download digital copies of my Jason Schreier books to feel something, that I realized my pocket supercomputer brought me a chaser of industry people lamenting c-suites and begging for attention to independent creators. (I even peeped this handy find site during an ongoing stream of support on Bluesky)

It's not looking good for anyone.

Dan Ryckert said it best when they spit out the hardest truth for those aspiring to get games media jobs, "... it’s become almost impossible and ultimately inadvisable."

Getting a job in games media seemed almost unattainable when I broke in back in 2005. In the years since it’s become almost impossible and ultimately inadvisable. I can’t imagine trying to break in today. Independent is pretty much the only option now. Support your favorite creators directly.— Dan Ryckert (@danryckert.com) May 1, 2025 at 9:37 AM

Ouchies...

And yet, I want to talk about video games every day. Probably because the way I talk about games is like burying my head in the ground and screaming until someone agrees but.. it's fun.

I've been thinking about spinning up my sources of creativity again and doing it the only way I know how. With YouTube. (boo.. been there, done that.) Yeah.. I mean, it's the only way I know how to talk about games and it's fun when I have friends to do it with. And I think it's clear that a lot of us need more friends.

Back when I did teeny tiny shows like SpeakGeeky, I was actively engaging with games and how I think people play them. Obsessed with how top-down decisions from monolithic publishers affected gamers from a small town. Stayed up late trying to figure out which platform I play my games on.

That's what I think gaming should be... of course, I'm not going to ignore the cataclysmic shock wave for the people who are just as passionate, I just... Video games are my therapy and right now I feel like my doctor is trying to see how many passive-aggressive comments and under-breath swears they can lob my way in the allotted appointment time.

Anyway, back to my plan.

The SpeakGeeky Podcast - it was a podcast that was weekly and with rotating segments. But it's hard to get noticed as yet another gaming pod if people don't know us so it's going to be twice a month, in my friend and I's little funny bubble and renamed SpeakGeeky. Yes, very life changing I know.

Corks & Controllers - if you don't know and and I don't expect you to, this is my current (on hiatus) show about wine pairings. It's fun and will be mostly the same, though probably much shorter. Maybe a bad idea but hey, videogamedunkey makes short videos all the time.

Triple A-OK - This is new. It's a Let's Play and video essay YouTube channel. This is what will take most of my time. Time that I basically don't have. So it will also have limited uploads for the sake of giving me time to write, film, and edit silly thought pieces straight from my brain. that's why gaming with my friend will also be on the channel.

This blog - Oh yeah, the thing you're looking at... Well it will be a hub; posting everything we're doing and any time I miss writing. So if I think of things that are interesting but aren't necessarily script worthy then it will be here on speakgeeky.net or my bluesky.

Okay, that's the outline of my plans. It will take a while so I'll try to post some BTS or progress updates. If you want to help me, I'd advise you don't because I have no money almost quite literally. So if you like the occasional beer or want vague agreements for a revenue split, then we can have a conversation. But until then, let's all chill out. I'm stressed just thinking about talking about anything that isn't my video game therapy, plus no one has swore at me yet so I'm jones-ing.

Okay, thanks bye now.

[georgiaandgray]

Todd From Asgard : The Subway Incident

Inspired by Abbott Elementary. One of the funniest shows I've seen in a long time.

Delaney Jones was running late. Again. Her breakfast was half a yogurt in a mug, her shoes didn’t match, and she had exactly 4% battery on her phone and zero energy left to fake being fine. Tuesdays in public school were basically boss battles.

She barreled down the subway steps like she was being chased and landed on the platform just in time to hear the doors closing. Except—miracle of miracles—they didn’t. They opened, and she squeezed in, wedging herself between a man in a pirate costume (not Halloween) and a kid beatboxing into a spoon. Standard commute.

Delaney adjusted her giant tote bag—overflowing with finger paints, a half-glued paper turkey, and several fruit snacks that were definitely not hers—when the train jolted hard. Her bag exploded. Glue sticks rained down. Her burrito took a nosedive.

“NOPE,” she said, reaching for it too late.

Someone else got there first.

The burrito was retrieved—gently—by a man so tall he looked like someone had hit “enhance” too many times on a regular human. He wore a knitted beanie like a disguise, and his flannel shirt was stretched heroically across his chest like it was fighting for its life.

He held out her glue stick like it was ancient treasure. “You work with… young warriors?”

Delaney blinked. “I teach kindergarten.”

His face lit up like he’d just heard she controlled dragons. “That is an honorable post.”

She tried not to blush. “I guess.”

“I am Todd,” he said, voice deep and oddly poetic, like he had maybe delivered a TED Talk on swordsmanship.

“Delaney.”

They nodded at each other. Then the train stopped, the doors opened, and Todd disappeared like some kind of subway mirage.

At Carver Elementary, Delaney stormed into the staff room still thinking about him. She was greeted by the usual chaos: someone burned toast in the microwave, someone else was trying to staple with no staples, and her work bestie was holding a baby cactus for unclear reasons.

Her co-teacher, Kaleem, sipped from his emotional support iced coffee and gave her a once-over.

“You look like someone who had a meaningful encounter with a stranger who may or may not be a time traveler.”

She dropped her tote onto the table. “I met someone.”

Kaleem clutched his heart. “Oh my gosh. Is he single, straight, and emotionally literate? Pick two.”

“I don’t know,” Delaney admitted. “He called my kindergarteners ‘young warriors.’”

Kaleem paused. “Delaney.”

“I know.”

“He’s either an 1800s ghost or... Canadian.”

Delaney didn’t care. He’d had kind eyes, broad shoulders, and the vibe of someone who would absolutely carry your groceries and challenge someone to a duel if they cut in line.

--

The next morning, there he was again. Same train. Same weird presence. Todd nodded to her and offered her the seat like he’d reserved it since 4 a.m. She took it, and he asked how the “tiny scribes” were doing today.

Delaney laughed. He wasn’t trying to be weird. He just was.

The week kept going, and Todd kept showing up. Always early, always polite, always dressed like he got his wardrobe from an enchanted woodsman. He asked about her day, told her strange things like, “The moon was low with tension last night,” and once, randomly, offered her a stone he claimed was “charged with focus energy.”

It was a sparkly rock. But she kept it. At work, Kaleem was keeping track.

“That’s four straight days. Is he stalking you, or is he an underemployed prince?”

“Still unclear,” Delaney replied, hiding her smile.

One Friday, Todd walked her all the way to school, pausing outside like he was seeing a castle for the first time.

“You command this place?”

“Barely,” she said.

He looked impressed. “It honors you.”

She watched him walk away, feeling like maybe something strange and good had walked into her life, crayon in hand and burrito in tow.

What she didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that Todd wasn’t just some flannel-wearing oddball with great hair and vibes like a medieval motivational speaker.

He was Thor. As in the actual god of thunder. Undercover. On Earth. Completely and totally enchanted… by a kindergarten teacher from Queens. And school was about to get weird.

[jodilin65]

My cousin's daughter has the Wicked Witch of the East listed as being born in New Hampshire. I didn’t know that. I just assumed she was born in Springfield.

Although I didn’t have breathing issues, I only slept for five hours, which doesn’t make it easier to get to my appointment. I gotta try my best to get there because I have questions for her. I also scheduled my dental appointment for December.

We don’t think we’ll be able to move next year, but we’re aiming for some time in 2026. The tentative plan is to find out if it would be cheaper to get either a gas car or a better electric car here or in New Mexico, which is where we’re likely going to end up. If it’s cheaper here, we’ll drive out there. If it’s cheaper there, we’ll fly out and buy one there. Since there aren’t any major ports where we’re headed, we’ll probably have to pack our stuff in a pod, have it shipped to El Paso, and fly in there. Once we’re set up, we’ll drive a U-Haul to Texas to retrieve our belongings.

We’re planning to go off the grid. Now that options are available that weren’t around when we moved to Maricopa, it’ll take a while for people and their damn dogs to reach us once the area builds up. We’re looking at getting two tiny homes, each around 500 square feet. One would be for living, and the other would serve as a laundry room and storage. The main house will be of better quality and possibly even furnished. You can bet I’m taking my beloved waterbed! Same goes for my skier—my favorite way to stay active. A good 90% of the dolls, knick-knacks, and various collectibles won’t be making the move. The second house will be very basic, with only water pipes and a sink installed, which will be all we need for a washer and dryer. We’ll definitely talk to a realtor, a contractor, and whoever else we may need. We’ll also need to bring in solar panels and dig a well.

The few things I have mixed feelings about are that the place will be small, colder in the winter, and I’ll be back among the nightmares I experienced in Arizona. I saw it all there—tarantulas, black widows, scorpions, snakes, etc. I’m not usually scared of snakes, but we have to be cautious depending on the season. I only saw one Gila monster in Arizona, but they’re bad news too. Javelinas can also be trouble. I’m more concerned with being creeped out by giant but harmless spiders than by any actual dangers.

I still can’t figure out what those giant spiders were in Phoenix that didn’t seem to be in Maricopa. Not that Maricopa didn’t have its share of horror-movie spiders. I thought they might be Avondales, but AI says those aren’t in Arizona. I don’t think they were tarantulas, even though they were just as big, because they didn’t seem furry. Tarantulas tend to move slowly, too. My research suggests they might have been hobos, wolf spiders, or some less harmful kind of brown recluse. Whatever they were, they were nightmare material. They were HUGE. We’re talking a good six inches in diameter, at least.

Given how things have turned out here, I’m now glad we didn’t get that house I wanted in Port St. Lucie. That would have been a bit hard to give up. It was bigger and had an amazing view. Now, I just want a place where I feel safe that I really love, somewhere we can stay until we’re too old and have to move into an apartment or assisted living.

[nickgerlich]

In The Search Bar

While the biblical author once intoned that there is nothing new under the sun, we must append it with this other truth: Nothing lasts forever. Well, most things, and this truth excluded.

Basically, it means that everyone and everything is vulnerable. Don’t get too comfortable resting on your laurels, because there’s probably a competing company, person, or idea lurking in the shadows that could relieve you of your crown.

I know. It is hard to imagine a world in which Walmart were not the king of BAM retailing, and Amazon likewise in e-commerce. But we also must remember that Amazon is only 30 years old, and Walmart 62. While Amazon had few if any competing interests to overthrow in the emerging digital economy, Walmart left behind the corpses of many retailers in its take-no-prisoners approach to business.

But they could fail one day, and you know what they say about how hard the big ones fall.

The same could be said of Google, which launched only in 1998. It quickly toppled many upstart search engines, but more importantly, it completely upset the apple cart when it came to search in general. I’m pretty sure that Melvil Dewey is doing flip-flops in his grave, his once-vaunted Dewey Decimal System the lingua franca of card catalog systems. Both he and the massive wooden cabinets with the tiny drawers have been left behind for history to ponder.

But now comes news that even Google is showing some cracks in its armor. Among Gen-Zers, Google is being replaced by Instagram and TikTok at the local level as the search engine of choice.While Google and Google Maps are still the #1 and #2 search engines overall, Instagram (67%) and TikTok (62%) are now preferred among young persons when searching for local businesses. The assumption, of course, is that those local businesses would have a presence on those platforms to be found in the first place.

It should also be noted that Gen-Zers still use Google for non-local searches, like when researching group project papers for their nagging, old professors. But I digress.

The takeaways from this tidal shift are huge. Gen-Zers use Insta and TikTok as search engines because this is where they hang out the most. Any time there is a magnifying glass icon or a search box, they know what to do. They have grown up searching for things this way. Google should be scared. Very scared. The very tool these young users cut their teeth upon is now being used against them.

But then there is the implication for local businesses. Like it or not, if you want to reach Gen-Z, it behooves these businesses to use Insta and TikTok, or risk not coming up in any query results. Failure to do so is at their own peril. Stubbornness on behalf of owners and managers, especially if they happen to…um…be a little bit older than Gen-Z, may not end well. “Get off my lawn!” Is not a proper response.

I have said it more times than I can count—and you have already heard me say it at least once—I love this job, if only because I have a ringside seat in the Arena of Change. I study it. I adopt it. I believe in it.

And if I were among the movers and shakers at Google, I’d also be nervous. They have failed three times trying to establish social media platforms, only to realize many years later that their acquisition of YouTube had already put them in that space. But while many people also use YouTube as a search engine, it’s usually not for local search. It tends to be more by topic, or for music videos. And while YouTube is rocking the boat with its Shorts rival to TikTok, it’s still not the same.

Whomever you are, whatever it is you are doing, remember that someone else is plotting to take a bite out of you, and keep eating until they have consumed the giant. Then the cycle will begin anew, one revolution begetting another. Hang on for as long as you can. It’s not just “Evolve Or Die.” It’s keep evolving until you die, because you will.

Dr “Searching For Answers” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[whiskeynwriting]

Sloth

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

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Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) drug use, dirty talk, praise kink, tiny daddy kink, oral (m receiving), handjob, light nipple play, rimming, mentions of bisexuality, unprotected vaginal sex, cumplay, established relationship, fluffies

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A/N: co-written with @phnyx beta-read by her and @fishingforpike can’t stop won’t stop lmao

For some reason I find myself feeling incredibly iffy on this one, and I never feel this way. It could be because there’s a new element in here that I’ve never written before, or the fact that this one is a little shorter than “Pride and Envy” and “Gluttony”. Either way, I hope you enjoy my lovelies <3 don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts

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Sintober Masterlist

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It isn’t unusual for him to be this stubborn, nor is it for him to be so self-absorbed. But in a certain sense, you were attracted to it; and in that same sense, you hated yourself for it. How can a human live in a state of perfect balance while being in such disarray? 

When you came back, you walked directly into a cloud of smoke; not exactly a rare occurrence, nor an unpleasant one. Dieter had basically hot-boxed the room, and you could care less. It’s not like it’s your house. The two of you were staying out of state for a movie he was shooting, this luxury hotel being your home until he was done with his work here. And since your job was remote, setting up shop with your laptop at cafes became your regular routine.

He’d glanced up briefly when you walked in, giving you a barely-there nod before his brown eyes returned to the magazine in his hands, likely browsing some gossipy cover. He was tired, you didn’t have to know him to know that. While lounging on the couch, he usually wore his signature pajamas, the exact outfit he slipped into every time he came back from set. Those loose, striped pj pants, that long, pukish-green robe, and a purple short-sleeved shirt. But he must not have done his laundry last night, because today, he’s wearing something different, and wearing much less.

“You were never good at these.” You tease him, sliding your tongue along the edge of the paper.

“Yeah…” He sighs, leaning further back. “Don’t know why, though.” 

Dieter had always been good at rolling joints, he just liked to watch you do it. Or rather, he liked to watch your little fingers work, your tongue sliding along the paper shortly afterwards. You have a knack for it, he’ll give you that. 

After changing into some comfier clothes, you sat on the ground between the coffee table and couch, leaning against the cushions. Dieter was lying sideways, wearing that fluffy, dark brown coat that makes him look like a giant teddy bear, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. The edges of it hang off his sides, draping onto the couch. The only other thing he’s wearing besides his jewelry is an incredibly old pair of dark gray boxers, short enough for you to see his teeny elephant tattoo. Reaching out, you gently poke it, tracing it with your fingernail. And it makes him giggle.

“Quit it.” He says playfully, smiling. He’s so ticklish.

But you still sigh, aggravated with him. You’d been asking him for attention, any kind of sexual or romantic touch, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood today. Now, don’t get him wrong, Dieter was just as sex crazed as he always was; he could never get enough. If he had the energy, he’d fuck you on the couch right now. It’s the fact that he’s so incredibly tired from his day, so exhausted that he’s unwilling to even try. Dieter had so many talents and knowing how to please you was definitely one of them. But on his lazier days, he just didn’t feel like using them.

“Dieter, please.” You beg, whining beside him as you hand him the joint.

Happily, he takes it, immediately lifting it to his lips with the lighter already lit in his other hand. His lips connect once on the bud resting on his lower lip, inhaling deeply.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” It comes out as a small whimper, even though you don’t mean it to. But it makes him look over at you, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

The joint held between Dieter’s lips continues smoking from the end, now setting down the lighter he’d just used. With a heavy sigh and a small grunt, he changes his positioning, now sitting up to address you.

“Of course I am.” He reassures you in that gravely baritone; oh, he really is so tired today, isn’t he? 

Giving him your best innocent eyes, you then ask, “Then why don’t you want me?”

It’s the funniest thing, you being aroused by him right now. You came home to a completely baked, slightly buzzed, entirely soft Dieter. The man looked like he hadn’t showered since he’d been home nor washed his clothes in days. His hair is a mess, his outfit is ridiculous, and his surroundings couldn’t be messier. But to you, this was Dieter. Chaotic, lazy, disheveled Dieter. He’s your baby boy, your puppy dog, your big teddy bear. And even though he didn’t always take care of himself, he always made sure to take care of you.

“Oh kitten,” Dieter lifts a hand to run it over his face, releasing another heavy groan of a sigh. “I’m too tired. Don’t you know aallll I do in a day?”

He looks down to see you pouting, and you’re not faking it, either. “Sweetie,” He continues softly, “I had four fittings today, I’m exhausted! A star like me needs his time to relax, not do anything.” He waves a flimsy hand in the air, taking another puff of weed. 

“You never do anything,” You mumble, glancing down while twiddling your fingers. “Not when you’re home. Not with me.”

“You know that isn’t true.” He furrows his brows at you, exhaling the smoke. 

“Not lately.” You reply in that same mumbly tone. 

“I fucked you last night, sweetheart.” Leaning down, he gently taps your chin with his thumb. “Remember when I made you drool?”

You do remember, you remember it all too well. Dieter had you from behind, pinned down beneath his weight with a fist in your hair. Your knuckles still ache from how hard you were clutching your shared bedspread, your throat still a little hoarse from how many times he’d slid down the length of it. It also didn’t help that you were moaning for two-plus hours. 

“Baby,” Comes your sudden gasp of a whine. “I want it, I want it again.” 

Sure, Dieter was sex-crazed. But you could be, too.

“Dammit kitten,” He chastises gently, “You can be such a needy little thing.” 

Usually when he says you’re needy, it means he’s going to take advantage of it. But not this time. 

Laying back to breathe in the smoke once again, he sighs. “Can’t be bothered; daddy’s tired.” 

“Dee,” Comes your second whine of the night, that small word a reference to more than just his given name. 

Your head is leaning against the couch cushion, resting just beside his outer knee. Reaching between his legs, you slide your hand along his inner thigh, smoothing your palm over the center of his boxers. Looking over his form, you eye his jewelry, his tattoos, the sight of them making your throat feel dry, a tingle shooting through your thighs. And he hums out a gravely sigh.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Dieter then asks, a lazy eyebrow raised. Your eyes meet his, nodding just a little for him. 

The space beneath your palm rises just the slightest bit, hardening from your touch. While keeping his gaze, you smile. He’s so easy to excite. 

“Well,” He sighs, shrugging while giving you a teasing grin. “If you want it so bad, you’ll have to do it yourself, kitten.” 

In all honesty, Dieter isn’t sure what you’ll do with this proposal. Will you huff and walk away? Touch yourself in the bedroom until you’re satisfied? Or will you stay frustrated with him, waiting until late in the night or early tomorrow when he’ll likely want to fuck? Lucky for him though, he’s pleasantly surprised. 

“You want me to do the work today, baby?” You then ask, giving his semi a little squeeze. “Hm?”

“Oh…” Mouth dropping open, he nods. For a second there he really thought he wasn’t getting any tonight. “Hell yeah I do.” With a smile on his face, he wiggles his hips on the cushions, eagerly awaiting your next move.

“Huh,” You tut, clicking your tongue while staring up at him. “You sure seem to have some energy now.”

“Well,” He shrugs, rolling his eyes with a grin. And then he shifts again, situating his legs on either side of you. You laugh.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to do!”

“I know what I want you to do.”

“Selfish.” You roll your eyes, only partly joking. But he’s right, you were heading in this direction. 

“Yeah, but you like it.” He shrugs again, leaning even further back. 

God dammit, how could one man be so lazy yet so cocky? Although, when Dieter wasn’t feeling lazy, he had the ability to make you absolutely dumb, just like he did last night. He fucked you until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were a babbling, compliant mess beneath him. So, maybe you can return the favor today.

Reaching up, Dieter takes a hold of his joint between two thick fingers, watching you from above. His lips connect briefly, sucking in before blowing out a small cloud of smoke. He does it while settling further back against the couch, spreading his legs a little wider for you. Slowly, your hands trailing up his calves, his thighs, fingertips squeezing the meat of them gently. When your tongue pokes out, wetting your lower lip, Dieter’s head rolls to the side, a sluggish smile crawling across his face. 

“Yeah…” Comes his heavy sigh, jaw dropping just slightly while he watches you move. 

By now, he’s fully hardened beneath your touch. The thought of sex alone was enough to get him riled up. While slipping your fingers over the edge of his boxers, tugging them down ever so slightly, he leans over to put out the bud in the nearest ashtray to his side. While reaching for another joint, one he’d rolled quite loosely, he lifts his hips for you, allowing you to slide his boxers all the way down to his feet. And as you follow them down, you give him kisses, placing your lips on the softness of his thighs, that delicate little elephant tattoo, trailing down to his calves, and sighing while you do. 

“Oh, baby…” It comes out as a quiet whine, looking up to watch his chest rise as he inhales deeply. 

Seeing Dieter naked, or in this case nearly naked, was always so satisfying to you. It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing the man that you love like this, completely bare for you. And honestly, Dieter had reason to be cocky. He was uncut, and while that may not be to everyone’s taste, it genuinely made you drool. The length of him was average, but his girth certainly was not. And you loved how thick he was, every inch of him filling you entirely and dragging pleasurably against your walls. 

“I love when you do this, baby.” He mutters, releasing a short grunt when you grip him gently. 

“Yeah?” Glancing up to meet his eyes, you lay out your tongue on the underside of him. 

Those sweet, brown eyes go soft upon seeing your beautiful face, your pretty mouth starting to go down on him. You slide your tongue up his shaft, watching him sigh while you look into his eyes. It’s done loosely, dragging his foreskin upward as you do it. But then you pull it back, looking down at his reddened head to flick your tongue across his slit. 

“Fuck me,” He moans, joint hanging on his bottom lip.

The curve of Dieter’s belly rises and falls, his hazy mind already swimming with bliss. He watches you lean up onto your knees, angling your head downward and allowing a trail of spit to fall onto his tip. With a smile on your face you pull his foreskin back, watching your saliva roll down his shaft. It’s not long after that that you take him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his crimson head. 

“Oh,” He chokes, feeling your tongue slide over his delicate skin. 

Whenever you went down on Dieter, you made sure to go slow. To say the least, the man could cum quick. And you weren’t sure if he’d be up for round two tonight, so you make sure to take your time. 

Amidst his hazy state, Dieter’s head lolls to the side, eyes falling on the mirror not too far from him. The hotel you’re staying in is decorated lavishly, almost gaudy in appearance. And the six-foot mirror facing him is no different. While gazing into it, he smirks, watching as you go down on him. Jesus Christ, he loves this. He can see your pretty frame resting on your knees for him, nestled between his spread legs. And while watching your reflection, he pets at your hair, brushing some of it aside. You really were willing to do anything for him; and he doesn’t even need to work for it. 

Closing your eyes as you begin to work, you keep your fingers circled around his base, sliding him further and further into your mouth. Before allowing him into your throat you move up, tonguing his tip before swallowing him again. And while he’d sat up entirely straight at first, he now allows himself to relax, resting back against the couch and letting his head fall back. His dominant hand allows him to smoke, the other one landing on the top of your head. And although he’s too tired to put any real effort into this moment, when you reach his base, he still holds your head down so you can choke on him. 

This is when you gag, your movements graceful until now. Drool begins to drip from your mouth, wetting the longer hairs scattering his pelvis. He never kept himself trimmed, and for some reason, you kind of like it. 

“That’s it, kitten.” He grumbles, lifting his head to look down at you. “Such a messy girl for me.” 

Dieter’s mouth drops open just a little bit, the joint hanging on his lips when you gag again. But you stay down for him, you always do. And when he finally allows you to move you shoot backward, gasping for air. All he does is smile, taking in another puff of smoke. He inhales sharply, almost a hiss, before blowing the small cloud out of the side of his mouth. 

“You’re always so good at it.” Then he gives you a single nod. “Do it again, will you, kitten?” 

More than eager to comply, you go down again, taking him in one swallow and feeling the couch rock as his head thumps back against the top of it. He groans heavily, leaving the joint on his lips and bringing his other hand down to your head. Those talented fingers intertwine with your hair, scratching your scalp gently. And when you moan around him he pulses against your tongue, his hips shuttering ever so slightly. 

In the back of your mind, you’re thinking about what you can do for him, what will feel best, what he’ll enjoy most. Oftentimes, you thought about his other relationships, the ones before you. You considered what they brought to him, sexually and otherwise. It was like a challenge to you, and so far, you could do everything they did and more. And according to Dieter, you did it better than them, too. But there’s one thing you haven’t done that is currently popping into your mind…

From the angle you’re at, you can see him perfectly, his entire body. One thing Dieter certainly did not have was shame. Since the first night you slept together, he was all in. He spread his legs wide when you first went down on him, and this time is no different. Only now, you can see his sex entirely, his full length laying on his belly when you released him, his scrotum resting beneath the thickness of him… and that forbidden little space you’ve yet to befriend. Maybe he’d enjoy that. 

“Uh-huh,” He nods, the sound coming from his open mouth. He’s watching you move up and down, slowly twisting your hand beneath your mouth. 

Your tongue wiggles on the underside of him as you continue to bob up and down, moaning when you can and breathing through your nose. But the size of him sometimes made even that difficult. Dieter likes to see you struggle to take him though, his chest sighing out heavy breaths while you drool around him, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 

“No, no,” He protests, urging you back down. 

“Sh…” You’ve lifted yourself from him, giving another ounce of spit before wrapping your entire fist around him. 

With excitement tingling in your belly, you lower yourself just a bit. You wonder how this will go. Will he like it? Will you? He’s talked about past partners doing it before, but never once did it cross over to you. And on the opposite end of this, Dieter’s done it to you, and you want to make him feel just as good. 

So you don’t give him too big of a surprise, you start out gentle, slowly making your way down. Your lips fall to his balls, licking and mouthing at them while he moans. And while you’re doing this, you jerk him off with firm, languid tugs. Inch by little inch, you creep down, your tongue sliding lower and lower while you continue to lick him. And above you, Dieter barely notices. All he’s registering is the euphoria flowing effortlessly through his brain. 

“Hm…” The hum you exude shivers directly through his center, the muscles in his thighs tensing from it. You notice this, lifting your free hand to massage the sweet meat of his upper legs, feeling him relax even further under your touch. 

Landing on the relatively smooth space between his scrotum and cheeks, you give him time to adjust, that is, if he’s even noticing. Moving your hand up to his tip, you give it a gentle squeeze, earning an unruly, erotic cry from him. He loves to be teased. And it’s in this exact moment that you make your first swipe, your tongue sliding along the tighter muscles you’ve yet to explore. 

“Uh-ugh,” Comes his punched out gasp, eyes shooting open to look down at you. 

At first, his reaction makes you nervous, an intense heat washing your entire body with anxiety. But you don’t stop, you just keep yourself there, meeting his gaze. He’s panting now, but he doesn’t say anything. So, experimentally, you do it again.

“Oh my god.” He babbles loosely from his mouth, fingers taking hold of the blunt he’d been smoking. He lets his forearm land on the armrest of the couch, letting the bud simmer between his fore and middle fingers. 

Again, another swipe, deeper this time. Your hand is still working him, and this is when you get a definitive answer on whether or not he’s enjoying this surprise. His head falls back again, a guttural groan released from his throat. Almost of their own volition, his legs spread even wider, hips lifting up a little higher. 

Wow, he really does want this.

“Y-Yeah…” Dieter stutters out a sigh, mouth falling agape while his head continues to lay back. 

“Mm,” Comes your enticed moan, excited now that you’ve been given full permission to do this.

When Dieter moved his legs wider for you, it allowed you to see more of him, too. His cheeks separated that much more, allowing you to wiggle in even closer to the space between his legs. This time, you go in slowly, sliding your tongue up the entirety of his hole. You can feel his tight muscles twitch beneath you, your free hand now dropping to his right cheek. Grabbing him, you open him even wider, feeling his cock throb in your hand. 

“W-What,” Dieter lifts his head, confused when you pull away. “What’re you doing?”

Reaching behind your back, you find the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. And then you look up at him, sliding both hands over his thighs. 

“Put your feet on the coffee table, baby.” All he can do is stare dumbly at you. “Let me lick you.” 

“Fuck me…” 

As if he’s too high to even move, you help him, leaning down to lift one foot onto the small table while he moves the other. Now, he’s got his thighs on either side of your head, both of his hands falling to the couch cushions as he searches for something to grab. He doesn’t let go of his joint, though, in fact, when you return to your work, he takes another breath. 

Looking back into the large mirror behind you, he grins breathlessly, watching you perform this new act for him. It’s so fucking sexy, watching you do this to him. The sight of it makes his muscles clench, your groan shivering through his hips. 

“Baby… yeah…” He moans deeply from above, pinching his eyes shut when you begin to lick him deep. “Just like that, oh yeah… that’s so good…” 

He’s twitching in your hand and pulsing against your tongue, the sensations almost too much for him to handle. And still he sits back, watching you do everything for him. The hand you’re not using to jerk him off wraps around his thigh, keeping him close, and he moans when you drag your nails across his sensitive skin. Every now and then your nose nudges his balls and it makes his head fucking spin. He can’t believe you’re doing this, he can’t believe you’re doing this for him. 

“B-Baby,” You continue to lick him, even through his passionate whines. His stomach and legs flex around you, his toes curling, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “That, that feels so good, you don’t even know…”

Dieter’s praise made you the happiest woman in the world. He was so much more experienced than you, so to know that even through the multitude of men and women he’s slept with, that he wants you… it was a feeling you couldn't even fathom until he gave it to you.

His hips push up, shoving his fluttering hole closer to you, wanting you to have the best access to him, all of him. And this is so beyond sexy to you, to hear him fall into a whiny, moaning mess from you licking his little hole while jerking him off. You never expected it to be so thrilling for you, too, the entirety of your being fizzling with excitement and adrenaline. 

While you’re tonguing his hole, prodding gently into the taut little ring, he looks up. He’s breathless when he speaks, his chest fucking heaving. “You look so good like this…” His voice is hoarse, and he clears it, swallowing briefly. “So pretty like this, kitten.” 

Your open-mouthed moan makes him whine, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip when he feels your own circle his asshole. And you grin at this, giving a small giggle from beneath him. 

“Still feeling too lazy for this, Dee?” You’re mumbling over his slicked-up skin, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He immediately grits out, shaking his head. “Keep going, please keep going.” 

Closing your eyes once again, you let yourself dive in, moving your tongue incessantly against him. It’s grown sloppy, your motions erratic and almost frenzied. And he’s enjoying every fucking minute of it. When you let go of him, intending to bring your hand down to fondle his balls, he reaches out for you.

“No,” He begs, bringing your hand back up to him. “Keep your hand there.”

But then he doesn’t leave. He wraps his own hand around yours, the both of you jerking him off while he now thrusts up into your hold. It makes you gasp, seeing him this turned on by what you’re doing to him. Helplessly, he ruts up into your hand, keeping his grip on yours tight so the pressure feels just right for him.

“Yes, yes!” He nearly wails, and before you can say anything, before you can pull away and make him wait, he cums. 

It shoots all over his belly, some spouting all the way up to his chest. It comes out in gooey spurts, hot and sticky as it litters his skin. You moan while watching him, his head falling back while his eyebrows furrow, eyes pinching shut while his mouth tries desperately to hold onto the joint he’d been smoking. But he wants to open his mouth fully, wants to moan out wantonly. And while you’re enjoying the show of Dieter making a mess of himself, you continue tonguing him, rolling the wet muscle along the rim of his hole over and over again. It’s shocking, how much he cums, the amount of it sliding down his sides just a bit. That’s a shame, you wanted it in your mouth. 

“Oh my god,” He huffs out, chest heaving with desperate attempts to try and catch his breath. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dieter nods breathlessly, shaking his head quickly in response. He closes his eyes, repeating himself before his dry lips meet with a swallow. And you can see him start to relax. He reaches to the side, grabbing the blunt he’d left in the tray as he returns to lay on his back along the couch. 

“Dieter,” Your whine makes his eyes snap open, head turning to the side. “I want more.” Your chest is heaving, you can’t help but beg. You do want more, you want more of those whines, more of those grunts, more his beautifully erotic expressions.

“Ride me,” He blurts out. “Fuck, ride me.” 

Immediately, you rise to your feet, shimmying out of the shorts you’d pulled on when you came home. You slide your panties off alongside them, now climbing on top of him. There’s a dirty shirt laying on the ground that you quickly grab, using it to wipe off his tummy. 

“You miss me? Huh?” 

You toss the shirt to the floor, placing your hands on his chest to lean forward. 

“Yes baby, I don’t ever get enough of you. You’re always gone, Dee, I miss you.” 

“Then show me,” He swallows again, steadying his breaths. “Show me how much you miss me, kitten. Maybe it’ll make me stay home for you.” 

He’s still hard beneath you, feeling the delicate skin of your lips rest on top of his shaft. Again, he keeps the joint between his lips, both hands reaching to squeeze your hips. And when he does, you lift yourself, keeping your eyes on his beautiful face while you position him. Dieter’s eyes are trained elsewhere, though, he’s gawking at the space where the two of you will connect. 

“Dee…” It’s an exasperated sigh, huffed out as you sink down. He stretches you wide, painfully so, your walls throbbing around him from the intrusion only when he’s halfway inside. 

He feels it, of course he does. “Fuuuck…” he groans, mouth hanging open. 

The small wiggle you give your hips when you’re entirely seated on him makes him grin. He releases a short and quiet giggle, one hand rising to trail up your torso.

“Take off your shirt.” He gently orders, eyes fixated on your covered chest. “Let me see your tits.”

You do as he says while forming a smile on your face. “Who’s needy now?” 

Dieter laughs, a cocky half-smirk on his face. “You know you love me.” 

As soon as it's off, those two large hands move to paw at your chest, cupping you gently before digging his fingers in. He holds them while you start to move, swaying your hips. 

“Oh, kitten,” He sighs, releasing your breasts. His dominant hand returns to his lips, taking a puff before removing the blunt. The other falls to his stomach, lazily brushing the pads of his fingertips across one of his nipples. “You really needed it today, huh?” 

“Mhm,” Nodding, you whine, too, closing your eyes as you move. “I need you, I need you, baby.”

“I’m here, kitten.” He coos to you, inhaling another deep breath of smoke. “I’m here.” 

Looking down, you’re met with the beautiful sight of the incredibly chaotic man you’ve chosen to love. He looks so scruffy right now, his hair a big mess and his cheeks littered with short, unruly strands. He looks so good below you, his curvy body moving slightly every time you rut yourself against him. 

You’re going slow, enjoying every moment of it, enjoying the stretch and your gentle sighs. When your head dips back, your lips parting to release a moan, Dieter reaches up to lazily grab your left breast, jiggling it in his hand as he grins. 

“Perfect,” He mumbles over the blunt he’s holding between his lips, still teasing his nipples. 

He rocks back and forth with every one of your gentle thrusts, and he’s so tired that all he can do is smile; he can’t even thrust. Besides, he likes seeing you take the reins like this. He’s surprised by how much you’re willing to do for him.

“Oh, fuck.” Out of seemingly nowhere, you change your pace, slapping your ass down onto his groin. He grunts out, eyebrows furrowing as you bring him a much quicker dose of bliss. 

“Dieter…” You moan, fingernails digging into his chest. 

You’re taking what you want from him, the languid pace you once created floating away like dust in the wind. You’ve wanted to fuck this lazy bastard all day, and you’re going to do it your way. And Dieter couldn’t love it any more than he currently does, he feels like a fucking god right now. Just sitting back, watching this beautiful woman grind on top of him while he gets high. 

He’s giving you little grunts and moans, his mouth hanging open as he breathes heavily. And he just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth from your face to your tits to your gorgeous cunt as it takes him. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, finding himself feeling lucky. You treat him so well. You always come home with a smile on your face, never forgetting to give him a kiss and a hug. Every day, you ask about the set, how filming is going, inquiring about how he feels about the script. If you’re not taking care of ordering the food, you’re preparing it, if you’re not making arrangements for your suite to be cleaned, you’re doing it. And by far the most impressive thing you do, is you manage to love him; even through all his shit, through his attitude and addictions. He should really learn to appreciate you more. 

“Baby,” You whimper for him, knowing how much he likes it. Biting down on your lower lip, you wiggle down onto him, feeling him pulse inside. 

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” He says with a breath of amazement. “I love when you’re on top of me.”

“Yeah? Even when you’re too tired to have me?”

“I might be tired, but I’m glad you aren’t.” He grins, that lazy, cocky smirk never ceasing to stir arousal within you. 

“Hm…” It’s a hum, an enticed one. “You like it, daddy? You like when I do this to you?”

“Oh kitten, you know I do. You’re so perfect, doing this for me…” 

Releasing a contented sigh, your head tilts back, and he wishes he could kiss your throat. But there’s no way in hell he can lean up that far right now. Not when he’s high and getting fucked out of his mind. 

Dieter’s eyes fall to the area behind you, zoning in on the reflection of your ass bouncing down against him. You’re such a sexy little thing, your entire body moving over his, always doing your best to please him. Your skin looks so smooth, is so smooth, the dips and curves of your physique was something that caught his eye immediately. Honestly, he can’t help but look at himself, too. Every time you lift yourself, he can see his cock slide almost all the way out of you before you’re plummeting down onto him again, his scrotum bouncing slightly from your forceful movements. The thick meat of his thighs jiggle beneath your own, your hips relentless in their search for his high. 

Eyes rolling back, they finally close, a low and guttural moan coming from his throat. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Again?” You couldn’t be happier to hear him say this. You love it when he cums more than once. 

“Again.” Dieter answers you, breath continuing to leave him. His eyes are still closed, his head nodding sluggishly. “Make me cum, please kitten. Please make me cum.”

“Mm… where are you gonna cum, baby? Inside me?”

“No,” You knew he’d answer this way. “Gonna pull out.” 

There was a very specific way Dieter went about cumming when you rode him. It’s not that he didn’t love cumming inside you, he definitely did. Oftentimes, he’d lick it out of you. But when you rode him, he liked to pull out and jerk himself off against your ass. It oozes out of him, spilling over his hand. And right after he’d bring it to his lips so he could taste it. 

“Oh,” He whines, his neck straining and veins protruding. “Fu-uck.”

Smiling down at him, you reach around, your dominant hand finding his scrotum. You cup him gently, fingers fondling the delicate skin as he nears his high. This is when he ruts up into you, the only time he’d done so tonight. His hips move of their own volition, punching up inside your core before his hands fly to wrap around your back, hauling you down to his chest. You squeal quietly as he does it, hands wrapping around his neck. You duck your face down to his shoulder, fingernails and teeth scraping along his throat. And while you’re busy doing this, he reaches down, pushing you further up on his chest so he can pull out of you. Forcefully, his fingers wrap around his shaft, tugging his cock harshly beneath your ass. Every time his fist moves up his knuckles graze the plumpness of your backside, helping to height his orgasm. 

The sticky-whiteness of it washes your skin, wet globs littering your ass and dripping down onto his hand. Since this is the second time he’s cum, there isn’t as much as the first time, but it doesn’t matter, not to either of you. He groans harshly when he feels your pretty lips kissing his tawny skin, your wondrous tongue poking out to lay over his neck. By the way you’re nipping at him, he knows hair and makeup will have to cover the hickeys up in the morning. And you like knowing that. 

“Fuck, fuck,” His hand moves frantically, milking himself of every drop he can give. 

Graceful fingertips pet over the hair scattering those squeezable cheeks, your nose running along the curve of his jaw. His eyes are pinched shut, lips parted as he revels in this. You lift your face just enough to give his cheek a kiss, smiling and humming against him. With his breaths picking up he removes his hand, lifting it to his face. He looks at the whiteness of himself coating every single knuckle, groaning quietly. Dieter then brings his knuckles closer, his tongue poking out to lick it off of his skin. 

“You love doing that, huh baby?” You grin against him, lightly scratching his scruff. 

He doesn’t answer you, he just brings his fingers to your lips. Looking to the side, he watches you take them in, tasting not only the remnants of his orgasm but his spit, too. Slack-jawed and staring, he can’t take his eyes off you. When he takes his fingers out of your mouth you reach up to keep him close, sliding your tongue through the mess of him. 

“I love you,” Comes his airy yet guttural admission. “I fucking love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You’re happy to hear him say it after missing him all day. 

“I’m sorry,” He’s still breathing heavily, trying to calm his breaths. “I don't,” Then he swallows, his clean hand rising to hold the back of your head when you snuggle against him. “I don’t treat you like I should.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows. “You take care of me.”

“More like you take care of me.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” You admit with a laugh. “But I know you love me, Dee.” 

“I really hope you do.” Dieter sighs below you, his body firm, steady. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re my person, baby.” 

Lifting your head, you stare down at him. “Baby, why are you so worried?”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Dieter clears his throat, those warm brown eyes looking up sweetly at you. “And I know I will if I act like an ass.” 

“Well, don’t be an ass.” Shrugging, you playfully grin. “And you won’t lose me.”

But Dieter doesn’t smile, he isn’t joking. 

“I know you get tired baby, and you do deserve to relax. You work hard.” Well, as hard as he can on the set of Cliff Beasts Seven. Honestly, the better description would be he has hard days, long days. Dieter wasn’t necessarily putting his best foot forward to uphold his career. But he didn’t really have to. He did what he wanted, and honestly, people loved him for it. 

“You don’t get sick of me?” He’s feeling insecure about this. He knows he can be a lot. 

“Sure I do, sometimes I get really aggravated with you.” Honesty was always important between the two of you. “But I don’t ever stop loving you baby, and that’s what matters most to me.” 

For a moment, Dieter just looks at you. “I’m gonna marry you one day.” 

“Yeah? Is that a promise?” 

“A big fucking promise.” He nods, pulling you down to kiss you. And you smile into it, happy to be in the relationship that you’re in. You know you have something so many people want, not only a celebrity but a man who’s willing to love you through anything. And Dieter’s more than aware of how lucky he is to have you. Sexy, funny, incredible you.

When you climb off of him, retrieving your shirt and shorts, you get a rag so he can clean up. You bring him a clean pair of boxers and a hoodie of his that you’d found in your shared room, his brown fuzzy jacket now ruined. But he can get it dry cleaned no problem. 

“What do you feel like ordering tonight?” You ask, phone in hand. 

“Pizza?”

“We had pizza last night.” 

“Yeah,” He widens his eyes, rolling them. “Because it’s good.” 

Shaking your head with a cheesy grin on your face, you order your boyfriend what he wants. These were your usual nights, ordering in, cuddling, and turning on a movie. Oftentimes, they were documentaries. Dieter didn’t like movies that much, he sees enough actors on the daily. He knows most of them, too. They’re colleagues to him, not interesting celebrities he looks up to. Tonight, he picks out a documentary about the Amazon, grinning like a little kid when the koalas come on. 

“You want one.” 

“Sure,” You let him light the blunt for you, leaning on him while tugging a blanket over the two of you. 

“You wanna do LSD?” He then asks, glancing down at you. “I got some new ones.”

“You know, for one night I’d like to not trip balls.”

“Yeah okay, fine.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and it makes you grin. Dieter slouches beside you, leaning on your body and wrapping both arms around you. 

“What time do you need to be on set tomorrow?”

He groans, running a hand over his face. “Eight fucking am.”

“Damn,” He responds with a disgruntled I know. 

Lucky for the two of you, tomorrow is a Friday, and thank fuck he has the weekend off. Maybe he’ll take you out to dinner, maybe even go to a club or two. Those nights are always fun with him. Honestly though, every night spent with Dieter was a fucking blast. If you stayed in, you’d both blare music till the sun comes up, drinking the night away while you sing happily. Those are the nights you’d usually do LSD. Those are also the nights he tells you about his craziest sex fantasies. But if you went out you got the chance to be spotted by the paparazzi, something you honestly both love. What can you say? You’re attention whores. 

“Well, you wanna shower together before bed? I can make you all soapy…” You run a hand down his belly, now full of pizza and pop. “Get you nice and tired so you can sleep like a baby.” 

“I’m already exhausted, but you know I like a challenge.” 

In his own head, he’s already planning out the weekend he’s going to give you. He’s considering booking a short vacation, take some time off and get a breather from set. Maybe he’ll bring you to Venice for a few days, make you cum in as many Italian cities as he can. He knows you’d like that. 

[mousecolor]

Anime I’ve Been Watching Recently (April 2023)

Giant Gorg

I’m a few episodes into this kids adventure show from the 80s and I’m obsessed with it. It’s got the typical genre crew: boy protag, girl, nerd, heavy, giant robot and dog mascot. The villain is an evil nepo baby trying to earn his billionaire inheritance by taking over a fictional island in the South Pacific for his family’s mega corporation. He is basically what the characters of Succession think they are. 

This show also contains some pretty heinous racial caricature of Black people, to the extent I would be remiss not to bring it up. It’s mostly background characters, so far main characters with dark skin are depicted sensitively. 

Here’s what I like about the show: the protagonists are constantly killing people. After the last few years of working in kids media and building a laundry list of pretty benign stuff I’m not allowed to depict in kids comics, (can’t show a kid prick their finger on a cactus, can’t show a kid use scissors that are too big, can’t show a mom greet a kid with a neutral expression, she has to be ecstatic) I have to admit I’m pretty jealous of a show where the protagonists get a tank and fire it at evil capitalists. I know this is kind of like being nostalgic for when gasoline had lead in it. 

Gorg has also had a couple scenes that were genuinely creepy and scary. Those scenes usually are completely silent, something really rare in kids cartoons. I’m excited to see where Giant Gorg goes.

Kanon

I came across this while browsing and, based solely on the image above, I correctly deduced that it was based on an erotic visual novel from the 90s. I felt like a genius when I looked it up and saw I was right, then I felt ashamed I had amassed enough experience rubbing elbows with such media that i could identify it immediately. Is there a term for this? The skills we acquire by accident in pursuit of our hobbies?

Anyway this show is complete schlock based on an eroge and it still made me laugh out loud and cry actual tears. 

I also got the feeling I got when I first read “Night on the Galactic Railroad” and other stories by Kenji Miyazawa in that I was realizing how many manga and anime had been influenced by his work. I had been encountering work inspired by, responding to, and reaching for his work for years, but I had never read the original text. Suddenly he was everywhere. Similarly, I realize now I’ve been encountering works responding to Kanon for ages now. 

I was curious about how adapting a romance visual novel for a TV show would work out. Each girl gets her own pollen, slightly interwoven with all the others, and the show spends a few episodes introducing them all at once, then goes through each girl’s story line one by one. In a VN the storyline would culminate in a love confession and the couple getting together, but for a show that still has a few more girls for the protagonist to get close to, each storyline culminates in something akin to a love confession, then the girl gets conveniently removed from the story. Mostly they get put in the hospital. 

I really like how the supernatural elements are introduced in the show, which is bit by bit, and then all at once. The girl with the most implausible, magical storyline is explored first, so the rest seem completely believable in comparison. 

The show did become a little one-note in that all of the plot lines culminate with the girl (or someone close to her) being sick or injured. There are a million scenes of girls languishing in hospital beds or tending to someone doing the same. I don’t know what any of the sex scenes in the VN were like, but this almost felt more perverse. By the end of the show, almost the entire cast is in the hospital. 

Anyway, I loved it!

Record of Lodoss War (OVA)

I first saw this years and years ago as a little kid. I got the DVDs from my local game rental place, which had a tiny rack of anime tapes and DVDs for rent. It was really fun to compare what the show actually is against my memories.

Anyway, this show looks great. At no point did the story or characters surprise me in any way. I loved looking at it but I was also enduring it.

[no-droids]

Kar’taylir

gif credit @sersi​

Part Thirteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.8K

Warnings: language, angst and fluff, descriptions of a dead body, no real smut in this one but there is some nudity and touching, uhhh i think thats it tbh

A/N: Omg hi hi hello this was written in a week and a half so please be gentle, also I’m back on my linguistics bullshit and I can absolutely guarantee a vast majority of it is inaccurate

***

Everybody is asleep and you’re just a complete mess.

Truly.  And it fucking sucks, because this should be enjoyable.  This is home.  You’re in hyperspace, the hull is pitch black, the baby is asleep, and Din’s breathing is slow and quiet through the darkness.  Your cheek presses to his chest as it rises and falls hypnotically, you’re comfortable and safe and this would normally be a dream.  But your eyes are wide open right now and you are just going through it.  Spiraling in the midst of the most stable surroundings you could possibly conceive.

You suppose that this is partially your fault.  You don’t know why literally any part of you expected Din would explain himself without prompting from you, but you still couldn’t work up nearly the nerve necessary to ask.  Every potential question you came up with contradicted your intent, every way you tried to mentally phrase it gave off the wrong impression.  How do you ask somebody if they were being serious about something without revealing anything about your own intentions?  You can’t—that’s a downside of staying silent.

Din hasn’t said a single word since he urged you to leave the shooting range earlier, and he didn’t really seem like the quiet didn’t suit him, if that makes sense.  Yours was awkward, it fit you wrong.  You struggled for words while he easily ignored their existence altogether, able to navigate the Crest into hyperspace and exist comfortably around you without ever addressing the giant bantha in the room.  Maybe that’s part of the reason you floundered so hard—he didn’t avoid you, he held the kid while you took a shower in the small fresher, and even though he was quieter around you than he’d been in awhile, he gave no indication that anything was wrong at all.

You spent that time getting clean but also formulating some sort of plan.  As you bathed in actual water for the first time in a week and scrubbed your body clean, you tried to figure out at least why you were having so much trouble coming up with something to say, but even then, words evaded you.  You spent the entire time staring blankly at the metal wall, at a complete fucking loss.

When you came out of the fresher with wet hair and comfortable clothing to sleep in, Din was armorless and resting in your makeshift bed on the floor, the baby tucked soundly in his crib next to him.  You turned off the lights and carefully found your way under the blankets next to him in the pitch blackness, feeling him lazily reach around you and pull you to rest against his chest.  His fingers gently drew circles along your arm for maybe the first few minutes while you worked up the nerve to speak.  You needed to say something, this was your chance—

But then his hand soon fell to rest in one place on your shoulder and he passed out.  Helmet on, not even a few minutes of your quiet breathing next to him.

So now, you’re here, just… a little ball of stress in the middle of paradise.  Hours have passed, you need sleep after such a physically exhausting week but it’s like you haven’t even processed the fucking proposition he presented to you yet.  You’re having trouble even thinking the words, that’s how much he’s got you fucked up.

He said… hit the target and I’ll ma…. hit the target and I’ll marrrrr…

Fuck.  You stay on that loop for ages until your eyes begin to grow heavy, until you just settle on thinking about it with them closed.  Slow breaths from Din under one ear, the silence of hyperspace all around you—how are you supposed to contemplate when his body is so warm?  No, you can ask tomorrow, you’ll ask him tomorrow.

Eventually, you’re able to drift off into a troubled slumber, dreaming of bells made of beskar that deafen anyone who rings them.

***

You wake up what feels like two minutes later.

It’s not, but you don’t know that.  You’re so warm and the second your eyes open, they start stinging and burning and tearing up like your body just wants to cry for even being awake right now.  You finally got to sleep—you moan pitifully and start to turn your head further into the warm blankets, but then a gloved hand smooths your hair back and a voice whispers quiet through the darkness.

“I have to go.”

And oh, his touch is just the gentlest thing, but what he says makes your already fragile mental state want to shatter.  The first words he gives you in hours and they’re the ones you loathe to hear the most.

“W-Wha?  No,” you whimper and automatically reach for him, your throat starting to close up.  Maker, you’re so tired, you’re so tired, you feel so fucking emotional and vulnerable right now and you’re not even awake enough to realize it.  “Why?”

Din just catches your hands and brings both of them together in front of him, slowly pressing your knuckles to the cold beskar on the face of his helmet.

“I meet with Karga in three days,” he murmurs back, voice pillow-soft and barely loud enough to come through the steel under your fingers.  It’s gentle and lulling and it makes you want to sleep again, but you can’t and you feel like you could burst into tears for that reason alone.  “He gave me four pucks, I need four bodies.”

You can’t argue with it, the logic is perfectly sound.  But you still want to, and everything inside you revolts at the thought of allowing him leave like this without fighting for more.  Which means you have absolutely nothing reasonable or compelling to say to appeal to him; all you’re left with the glaring truth.

“But I don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, tightening your fingers.

And, perhaps if you were even half-conscious, you’d wince.  You’d cringe at the shake in your voice, you’d remind yourself that he has to make a living, he’s said it over and over again.  If you were completely awake, you’d scold yourself for being such a needy mess, but right now, all you can think about is how much you want him to stay, just this once.

After a moment, you feel the gloves carefully collect both of your hands into just one of his, and then he slowly reaches out with his free hand to cradle your jaw.

“I won’t be gone long,” Din murmurs.  “I can’t be.”

Your head turns slowly in his palm, and you’re just so, so sleepy.  Your voice is small and your words slur.  “Stay with me.”

Quiet, and though you can’t see him, the leather continues to press so warm to your cheek.  Your eyes slowly drift shut, needing him to stay exactly like this, stay right here just like this.  Karga can wait, the quarry can wait, the galaxy can wait—everything else can wait when things are like this, when he’s looking down at you breathing slow into his palm.

You’re almost asleep again when you hear him say something.

But… you have no idea what he says.  You hear it.  You hear his voice come through the pitch black, quiet enough to sit just on top of the silence and let the mysterious words simply become a part of it, but it’s strange.  Like his cadence lilts in a different way, the vowels are longer than what you’re used to, and your comprehension abruptly falters like it would if he was speaking another language altogether.

Maybe it’s just because it’s the first thing to pull you back from the edges of sleep, that has to be right.  It doesn’t sound like Basic because your mind is stupid and slow right now.  You need to ask him to repeat himself, but all that you can muster is the soft sound of confusion, not even able to open your eyes anymore.

His hands pull away from you and once again, you suddenly can’t decide between sleep and crying, quickly lifting and trying to reach out for him in the darkness.  You can’t feel anything, it’s like he’s completely disappeared from where you assumed he’d be, except then something tiny is placed into your hands instead and it makes an unhappy little sound at being disturbed.  You automatically hold the baby close to your chest and strong hands touch your shoulders, urging you to lay back down again.

“Leave the engine running, you’ll freeze if you don’t,” he mutters, quickly tucking the blankets up under your body while you close your eyes and feel the tears wet your lashes.  Fuck, you’re so exhausted, you just need to sleep.  “If I’m not back in sixteen hours, I’ll use my e-comm and you’ll have to fly out to me.”

He steps away from you, walks quickly and with purpose to the side of the hull, and a blast of frigid air fills the room before the door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Your head hurts.

Sparks and wires give your fingers mean, zapping reminders to pay attention every time your focus slips, but you still feel like you’re in a daze.

“Come on,” you drone, trying to use your voice to snap yourself back into the present, but the sound of it isn’t even interesting enough to pull you away.  “Come on.”

Maker, you’re going fucking crazy.  Is this just all an elaborate scheme to make you experience the same kind of insanity he told you he struggles with in your absence?  Because you don’t like this—you hate feeling like this, you can’t concentrate on anything and even if he hadn’t instructed you to do so, you’d likely still be counting the hours of his absence.

Fourteen have passed so far, not the sixteen you’re waiting for but getting close.  It’s one thing you’ve been able to accomplish.  Counting.  You can still count right now, so at least there’s that.

Oh, and another hoop you’ve jumped through.  Understanding words.  You can listen and repeat, even if you still can’t fully comprehend, but you’re getting there.

Din said… hit the target and I’ll marry you.

He said that.  Yep.  You’ve accepted it, you’ve accepted the words that were said.  Indeed.

Okay, but now… like…

What did he mean by that?  Why did he say that?

No matter how much you tell yourself he was just messing around—no matter how many times you offer up that perfectly logical answer to the burning question you’ve been sitting on, you still aren’t satisfied with it.  Something keeps tugging your mind back to it, a tether constantly pulling you away from the work that’s designed to be your distraction.

You frown down at the box of machinery.  Whelp, if he was serious, he’d probably immediately take the offer back after witnessing your behavior this morning.  You embarrassed yourself terribly, you acted like a clingy baby in the looming shadow of unconsciousness and what’s worse, you can’t even remember what he said after you begged him to stay.  It could’ve been a quiet, “Stars, pull yourself together,” for all you know.

And honestly, just… fuck these electronics.  You’re at the point where you’d probably cheer on whatever brutal impact damaged them so atrociously if you weren’t also well aware that this box was very likely attached to Din’s chest when it was crushed.  The magnetics are a complete mess, and you’re mostly just attempting to see how the individual components of each piece are supposed to communicate.  Turning the switch on doesn’t do much at all besides make the capacitors put out heat.  Not enough to shut it down or be a hazard to the housing when you close it, but enough to know that it’s going to present a problem for you at some point.

What’s more, you’re so lost in your own thoughts and busywork that you don’t see two green ears poking out over the top of the pile of armor on your temporary workstation (literally just the floor) until one of the thigh braces comes clattering down and the whole thing collapses with a ruckus.

You suddenly shove the metal box away from you in frustration and you reach for the little troublemaker with a sigh, scooping him up and getting to your feet.

“This isn’t going to work,” you grunt to him, hearing your words better for some reason when you direct them at the baby instead of talking to yourself, and his eh? allows the thoughts to come clearer and easier.  No, you can’t be distracted when your distraction is just another part of your status quo, you can’t use fixing mechanics to occupy yourself because it’s what you’ve done to occupy yourself your entire life, it’s worn off at this point.  You need something newer.  Something that takes your entire focus to do.

Eventually, your eyes drift over to the one metal panel on the wall that you’ve rarely ever opened.  One that takes up a comparatively enormous amount of space in the hull considering what you know it holds.  You eye the kid in your arm, who suddenly has sneaky painted all over his expression.  “You thinking what I’m thinking, demon?”

He squeaks his affirmative and you move over to the armory, pressing a few buttons before the doors slide open by themselves.  Because of course Mando invested in hydraulics for the gun closet but not for the hidden cot he used to sleep on, of course.

“Maker above,” you groan as the metal slides open, needing to lift your chin to eye the enormous collection.  How many fucking…?  All this for just one person?  What does that big one in the middle do that the others stacked strategically around it don’t?  They all kill whatever you point and shoot at, you’re assuming?  Are you missing something?

The baby makes a tiny sound of awe as you carefully look over your choices, not expecting nearly this many to be offered, before settling on one that looks the simplest.  A sleek silver one that’s still too big for your hand but smaller than anything else on the rack.

Grabby fingers reach out for the shiny metal as soon as you remove it from the shelf and you very purposefully set it down out of his pitiful wingspan.  “Nope.  Now come on, gotta bundle up.”

You make your way back over to the bed and pull one of the thickest blankets up, settling it over the open shield and then situating your partner in crime in his usual spot inside.  You strategically stuff and stack the fabric around him to make sure he’ll be warm enough in what you know has to be far below freezing temperatures, lifting it up over his ears and wrapping it around his neck in a loose hood.  He blinks up at you with gigantic eyes and an open mouth, clearly thrilled about your willingness to go on an adventure with him this time instead of being the tall nuisance that consistently holds him back from one, and you scoff down at him as you partially close the lid on his levitating nest of blankets for extra protection.  He should be warm enough, you’re not going to be outside long.

And then you pull out nearly half the amount of clothes you own and suit up in what feels like ten layers before grabbing the blaster.  The swirling wind nearly shoves the heavy hull door into you as soon as you open it and—Maker.

You look back at the kid behind you for a second, wondering if it’s too late to change your mind.  His expression narrows and he makes a triumphant ha! while pointing three fingers at the grey blizzard through the small open space in his crib.  Try as you might, you can’t ignore a call to arms when delivered with such ferocity.

Both of you step outside and take in the view after you wrestle with the door to haul it shut.  You don’t know the name of this planet but from what you can see, it’s one giant ice ball, mountainous and cold as fuck.  Though, to be honest, your only indication that it’s truly cold as fuck is the continuously accumulating snow blanketing the landscape and the flurries dancing in the whipping wind.  You’re too warm-blooded for climates like these—anything below room temperature and you’re freezing, you have absolutely no tolerance for cold whatsoever.

Keeping that in mind, you don’t travel far at all.  Just a few steps beyond the entrance to your shelter before eyeing what appears to be a large white boulder in the distance.  There’s a solid target, you figure—you’ll be able to see chunks splintering off when you hit it and the ice isn’t strong enough to bounce plasma back, you won’t have any ricochets.

Okay.  Okay—safety, where’s the safety on this one?  Ah, yes, okay—safety, off.  Stance, find your stance.  There it is.  Alright, now lift.  Lift, get that stupid frozen ball right in your sights, line it up.  Hold.  Hold.  Hold.

Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale—

Fire.

You watch with bated breath as the bright red bolt launches from the end of the barrel and travels across the distance before melting a hole in the snow just to the right of your target.

“Mother fucker!”  You yell into the frigid landscape without warning, suddenly infuriated.  What’s the point of even having a sight if every gun is just gonna say fuck you no matter what?  Could there be some sort of mathematical reason why you seem to be fucking atrocious at this, you wonder?  Are you fucking up the angle somehow while trying to read the scope?  Should you just ignore it and try to aim without thinking too hard?

Admittedly, you spend the next five minutes shooting at that stupid fucking thing, not making a single shot.  It’s not been long at all, but your entire body is already trembling uncontrollably and it is just too fucking cold out here.  Freezing your fucking ass off isn’t going to help your aim of course, but it’s almost just tragic at this point.  Either you’ve got to accept that you’re just absolutely hopeless at this, or you’ve got to… blame the little womprat behind you for messing up your shots, yeah.  It wouldn't surprise you.

As a last ditch effort, you consider trying something a bit ridiculous to see if he really is fucking with you.

“I’m firing one last shot,” you call out loudly over the sound of the bristling wind and flurries, making sure he can hear your narration from his little blanket cave behind you.  “If I hit the target… I will present our demon overlord with a chunk of raw meat later for dinner.”

You give the offer a moment to sink in before raising the blaster, and then you jerk it up at the very last second while pulling the trigger.  The arc of plasma quickly disappears into the gloomy skies over the top of the ice boulder, completely straight.

You switch the safety on and turn around to say something smart to him, but… well.  Uh.  That’s an empty crib.

Sudden panic rips through you at the sight of the wide open shield, the blanket left abandoned inside.  Your head whips around in horror, wondering where the fuck he could’ve gone—but then you’re able to spot tiny footprints in the snow.  Your eyes quickly follow them up and see the baby wading his way up a large hill, slow against the terrain and trying in vain to get to something at the very top.

You drop the blaster and bolt through the blizzard to get to him while calling out through the freezing air and wishing, not for the first time, that you had a name to roar and strike fear into his tiny little heart.  In this case, you prefer a middle name as well.

Finally reaching him and yanking him up from the snow, you tuck him under the warmest part of your arm and open your mouth to start venting the terror from your body, but he makes a distressed noise and starts climbing.  You fumble with him on your way back down, not expecting that response, but he’s so distraught and preoccupied that he’s unable to stay still, trying to find different ways of escaping your grasp and making more and more sounds to indicate something is wrong.

“What the fuck are you—” you stuff him into the shield and at least get the blankets wrapped around him before looking back and trying to spot whatever he’s still wiggling and attempting to get to.  Frustrated cries start filling the icy air and… okay.  “Okay,” you tell him, your breath puffing like smoke in front of you, “okay okay, we can go look, but you need to stay warm.”

You clutch the edge of his metal shield and urge it to follow you back up the snowy hill, feeling the crunch of your feet disappear further and further into it as you climb.  Your outer two layers are probably soaked by now—stars, it’s so fucking cold.  You know you’re not exactly the best judge, but you’ve been outside less than five minutes and you’re already worried about getting sick or frostbite, already jumpy and wanting to go back to the warmth of the hull.

But as you reach the top and look out in the distance, you can just barely make out a familiar metallic glint on the horizon.  

Your heart picks up, but the baby makes another distressed sound.  Not… happy, not thrilled that his dad is coming back.  Some strange sort of dread begins to fill you, carefully holding the kid in his shield with one hand and looking at the bright reflection of light a little ways away just to make sure it’s…

No, it’s not moving.  Not disappearing and reappearing, not catching the sunlight differently.  Completely stationary in this absolutely horrendous weather.

You immediately make your way in that direction, your body deciding to outright abandon its trembling in the wake of this newfound worry.  You’re suddenly sweating, way too warm.  That’s Din, you recognize the glint of his armor anywhere, but why isn’t he moving?

The closer you get, the faster you move and the more you’re able to see.  He’s laying facedown in the snow.  There’s quite a bit of it covering the back of his cape, maybe a few inches, and… there’s also someone laying equally as lifeless behind him.  Your heart is slamming now, you’re doing your best to run in the unforgiving terrain, and you finally see that it’s… a corpse, a frozen corpse is behind him with a rope tied around its ankles, clutched tight in Din’s unmoving fist as it lays against the pure white backdrop.

“Mando?”  You call out, dropping to your knees as soon as you reach him.  “Hey—hey, can you hear me?”

The beskar strapped to him is frozen over and feels colder than ice when you try to shake him.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s dead weight; you do your best to turn him over on his back, but you still get nothing from him.  You shove your trembling fingers up under the helmet, and the only reassurance you have that he’s even alive comes from the petrifyingly slow pulse beating underneath.  His skin is ice cold.

Shit, he’s still breathing but he’s hypothermic, you have to get him back to the Crest right fucking now.

You fumble to get in position above his head while hooking both your arms under his, before leaning everything you have into it—but fuck, he’s so heavy.  You can barely lift him even just a few inches off the ground—the snow is deep, his armor makes him weigh a ton and the fabric wrapped around him is sopping wet.  You try again, making a tight sound in your throat while you haul, but it’s no use.

“Fuck,” you curse, starting to panic even fucking harder.  You’re gasping and breathless and getting dizzy and scared, continuing to try and find different angles to heave—

—until suddenly the burden is lifted.

You nearly fall backwards on your ass at the abrupt removal of tension, playing tug-of-war with a team that decided to give up with no warning.  But it’s like it almost doesn’t even phase you; you don’t even look behind you to see the baby’s eyes closed tight in concentration, you just recover and pull with both arms, feeling Din’s body gliding easily along the snow now and leading him all the way back down the hill.

Once you get inside the Crest and shut the door to the raging blizzard behind the three of you, there’s an extended moment where you just… you don’t know what to do.  You know all about how to deal with heatstroke, but this is the opposite—he either spent too long in the cold, or he exhausted himself trying to get back too quickly and then spent too long in the cold.  He said he’d use his e-comm if he wasn’t back in sixteen hours—was that the cutoff?  The point where the temperature outside would shut his body down and he’d need you to come get him?

Regardless, you need to warm him up.  Yes, that’s your priority, and you figure the quickest and safest way to accomplish it has to be the shower in slow increments.  The kid helps you move Din into the tiny fresher in the hull and then you sit on the floor with him, holding his limp body to your chest while reaching up to turn the faucet on.

Cold water sprays down and then suddenly—oof, he’s heavier than fuck again.  Air leaves your lungs and your neck cranes back under the unexpected increase in pressure on top of you to see the kid climbing down from his shield, no longer focused on mentally bearing most of his father’s weight or directing his own hovering form of transportation along behind you.  The baby disappears out of sight and you huff, completely trapped under Din as freezing water rains down on you.

Fuck, it’s so cold.  It’s way too fucking cold for you, but your core body temperature is also mostly normal right now.  Din’s isn’t, you’ll probably shock his system if you try to warm him up too quickly.  So you reach up and twist the knob, keeping it at a temperature he’d probably find just the slightest bit warm while inspiring violent shudders from you.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna t-t-take this off, o-okay—” you stutter down at him, knowing damn well he isn’t conscious to hear you but giving him that reassurance on the small chance he is, and then reach with trembling fingers to work at his armor.  You worry that the beskar is keeping the cold trapped the same way his clothes are, like having solid pieces of ice strapped to his body and nothing to protect him besides a few layers of soaking wet fabric.

The chestpiece comes off and you throw it blindly over your shoulder into the hull with a clang—admittedly, without thinking about where the baby is at all anymore.  The pauldrons come off next, but not before you reach up and turn the heat up just the slightest bit.  Your jerky limbs just want to blast it and remove the rest of his clothes in steamy hot water, but you can’t.  Even though your mind is hurtling at a thousand lightyears an hour, whatever reason you have left reminds you that you have to be patient or risk losing him entirely.

Eventually you’re able to get all the armor off but you hate the way he’s breathing right now.  Slow and shallow, like he just doesn’t really need the air at all but his body is still fighting for it on instinct.  His chest barely moves with it even when it’s got nothing weighing it down.

“You’ll b-be okay,” you say aloud, talking to the both of you even though only one is capable of responding.  “Y-Y-You’ll be o-okay—”

You reach up to inch the temperature a little higher, shivering terribly now.  His body feels slightly warmer under the shower than it did with the beskar, but you know you need to keep going and take the fabric off now.  Maker, it’s nearly impossible—the black clothing clings to his skin and its such a small space to maneuver, but it gives your mind and hands a clear goal to focus on while the water incrementally heats up.

Strangely, your adrenaline has been rocketing for so long that you almost lose track of time.  You just keep deadly focused on your task of undressing him and slowly heating the shower, trying not to think, trying not to get in your head and bring about disaster in such a crucial set of moments.

At some point, the water is warm.  Comfortably warm, and Din’s body isn’t ice cold anymore.  It’s warm, too, laying back into your chest and naked besides the helmet, but he’s still not moving.  No response, no matter how much mindless drabble you supply, no matter how steamy and hot the shower has become, no matter how much your own body has heated up.  Your fingers have found their home under his jaw, pressed right to his pulse point and feeling it continue to beat slow and faint, but you’re starting to feel the terror set in.  Real terror, the kind that makes you stupid and emotional, the kind that turns you back into a child again.

“I don’t know if it’s working,” you suddenly choke out, close to tears.  He’s warm, what else can you do for him?  Why is he not waking up?  “I-I don’t know what to do, Din, I…”

No—no, you cannot lose your shit, not yet.  You will exhaust every fucking option before you let that fear set in.  He’s not waking up because he needs to recover, his body needs time to work things out in a warm, comfortable environment.  He’s breathing, his heart is beating, he’s warm, and he’s still with you, so… you need to still be with him.

You turn the water off and clumsily get up, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back into the hull.  He’s still heavy but it’s so much easier than before to move him; there’s no armor weighing him down anymore besides the helmet, no cape or snow or friction to catch him, no cold to lock your muscles up.  It’s slow going but you’re finally able to settle him in the warmth of your shared bed and then cover his body in the collection of blankets you’ve amassed.  You stand up and peel off all your wet layers of clothing, letting them plop to the metal floor while glancing around for the kid—

—who is currently swinging from the ladder to the cockpit with one hand.

It startles you for just a moment, just long enough for you to wonder what the fuck he thinks he’s doing up there, but then you figure that if he found some way to get up there then he can surely find his way back down again.

As you quickly drop to the bed and scoot up next to Din’s limp body under the blankets, the Crest’s engine suddenly gives a low rumble below the floor and heat starts blowing through the hull vents.  Again, you’re too preoccupied to even notice the gift much.  You’re tugging and tucking blankets around him and up under the metallic edge of his helmet when...

Maker, you need to take this off.  If the inside is wet, it’s probably keeping his head cold while the rest of him is warm from the shower.  You know it’s not a light thing—you know… you know at least a fraction of what this means.  You won’t look, you won’t look unless something absolutely drastic happens and it’s completely unavoidable, but you need to take his helmet off.

You catch the shoulder furthest from you and tug at his heavy body until he’s on his side, facing you on the bed.

“Din, I have to take your helmet off,” you warn him, saying it slowly and clearly.  Again, just in case.  “I’m not gonna look.  Nobody is gonna look—” your gaze flicks behind him to eye the baby, who is now somehow on the metal ground and waddling up to you both.  He blinks enormous black eyes at you, looking between you and his father huddled together under the blankets.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him very seriously, no room for negotiating.  “I know you understand me.”

It takes just a few seconds before he lifts his hands up and does exactly what you say, placing his fingers over his closed eyelids and then even so much as toddling around to face the wall.  You gasp in relief, clenching your eyes firmly shut and then pulling the helmet up, making sure you catch his head before it falls with one hand while tossing the beskar somewhere in the hull with the other.

Cold.  His hair is soaking wet and so cold, and his head rolls slightly as you guide it to rest in the warmest part of your neck.  Your hand stays attached to the back of it, wanting to transfer every single bit of warmth from your palm to him, and your eyes open to the kid’s back as your other arm wraps around Din’s bare spine.

And then all at once, you just feel… helpless.  He’s in your arms but Maker, you don’t know what else you can do.  The heat is blasting, you’re warm and pressed against him under multiple blankets, the engine is slowly heating the metal floor, but his breathing.  Slow.  Shallow.  Barely able to be felt against your neck.  He’s here but he’s not.  And you have no way of knowing if he’s getting closer or further away from you.

Tears start coming before you even realize.  But you have nothing to say.  After spending the entire time talking out loud, providing reassurances, narrating, distracting yourself—you don’t have anything anymore.  The silence twists you tighter, the nothing becomes inescapable, and the sudden sob that leaves you echoes hauntingly throughout the hull.  You pull his limp body as close to you as possible for comfort.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Your vision is watery—you don’t see it.  You don’t see the kid slowly turn around and take a few steps forward.  You only notice he’s there when green catches in the abstract blur, but you sniff and blink quickly to clear it.  It only takes a second to see the baby’s hand, extending and pressing against the blanket covering Din’s back, and you watch with wide eyes as he closes his.

And then there’s a second.  A second where you dare to hope.  Where you wonder if it’s even something that can be done.

The kid lowers his hand just a moment later and stumbles back a few steps, before plopping down on the ground and slowly falling backwards.  You have just enough time to see his little body inhale and exhale a few times as he sleeps, and then—

—and then Din suddenly jolts in your arms, bursting with too much life after spending too many heart wrenching moments without it.

“Shhh,” you breathe, instantly tightening your grip on the back of his head so he doesn’t pull away from you in a panic and keeping it tucked into the warmest part of your neck, right where your pulse thrums fast and present.  Your eyes clench tightly shut just in case and your heart bursts with pure, blinding, heavenly relief.  “Shhh sh sh, stay right here, just stay right here…”

As soon as he seems to recognize your voice and figure out that he’s not dead, his body immediately starts wreaking with shivers.  You squeeze him tight to you, feeling his large, quaking frame curl inwards into you for warmth, burying his own face into your neck even further and breathing shallow but quickly now, like his body actually wants the air again.  You do your best to will your blood to pump faster and provide him that relief, stretching and opening your body as much as possible to give him warmth.

And then you spend the next few hours like that.  Holding him, murmuring gently to him, providing him with your body heat and stars, he fucking clings to you.  He presses tight to you and trembles, and you don’t even know if he’s listening, but you keep talking.  Finding words for hours, and while some of them are just different ways of saying the same thing, you say them anyway.

He’s okay.  The kid is okay.  Everyone is okay.

Eventually, the shivering dies down until it stops altogether.  Din stays in one place and goes completely limp again, but this time he continues to breathe you in, slow and deep into the crook of your neck.  Fast asleep in your arms, and you thank the good fucking Maker above for the little angel passed out on the floor behind him.

***

He has to meet with Karga in two days.

After a few more hours of holding him and making absolutely sure he’s going to be alright, that’s all you can stupidly think about.

A deadline.  A very quickly approaching one.

You don’t know why.  But it might have something to do with the fact that you want nothing more than to climb up into the cockpit and navigate the ship off this horrid planet, and you can’t.  You’re confident that the hull and blankets are warm enough by themselves to keep Din comfortable as he recovers, and you’ve also had quite a while to regroup and get your mind thinking logically again, so you’re not worried about getting up and leaving him right now, no.  That’s not the problem.

The problem is that there’s a corpse outside.  You know this.  You know it’s there, and you know he needs it.  Nobody’s gonna take his word for just saying they’re dead, much less pay him for his services; no body, no bounty.  You also know it’s probably being covered with fresh snow right now, or maybe some sort of wild animal has already gotten their teeth into it, if anything can even survive out there.  And you’re the only one awake.  The only one capable of going to get it.

You’ve been arguing with yourself.  For about an hour, you’ve been struggling with the thought.  Din is soft and warm and every breath makes you focus less on the terrifying moments that occurred and more on the need to step up once again.

In the end, it’s the kid who gives you the final push.  You’re not going to leave him laying on the floor like that for any longer.  Not after what he did.

You take a second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up all the way over Din’s head as it rests warm and comfortable in your neck.  You’re incredibly careful to cover his face, and even while climbing out of the warm cocoon of the bed, you keep your eyes firmly shut and continue to pull the fabric even higher, making absolutely sure you’re not going to see his face on accident.  You shouldn’t, you don’t think, as long as he doesn’t jerk awake and pull it down himself, but you want to take extra precaution regardless.

After quickly yanking on some clothes, you immediately make your way over to the kid and pick him up, seeing his little mouth open as he snores—and oh, you just have to.  You pull him to your chest and give him the most heartfelt, thankful embrace you can while not squishing him, before setting him down in his much more comfortable hovering blanket palace and closing the lid on it.

You know you have a very clear task now, but for just a few moments longer, you do your best to stall despite the ticking clock.  You start to pick up the mess in the hull—you close the fresher door, pick up Din’s discarded armor and set it in a neat pile close to the bed, place the helmet under the vent to encourage the padding inside to dry faster, and then you collect his old armor and stuff it back into one of the storage cubbies with your toolbox.

Only, an idea suddenly occurs to you as you’re putting away the chestpiece.  When you open the door to the hull, you know that a blast of cold air is going to flood the ship.  The engine is still heating everything inside and making sure you don’t get trapped in the snow by continuously melting it on the outside, but you don’t want Din to start shivering again.

So you grab the dented piece of electronics you were working on and flip the power switch, feeling the capacitors slowly start to heat up inside the housing.  You go back over and lift the blanket near his feet just enough to tuck the metal under it, close enough to Din that he’ll feel the same amount of warmth your body was providing him but not enough to overheat.

And then you make your way over to your bag and pull on the rest of your clothes, now exhausting almost every single clean thing you own just to make another trek through the snow.  You’re in the middle of pulling on your fifth pair of pants when the thought truly sinks in.

A corpse.  A dead body.  That you’re actually considering going out into the worst fucking weather in the galaxy to search for, haul back to the ship, and put into carbonite.  Because of a fucking deadline for an occupation very much not your own, very much not chosen by you.

You quickly walk over and leave through the door on the side of the hull before you can change your mind, slamming it shut behind you.

***

Well, it’s…  It’s not too terrible, you guess.

It’s been frozen out here for hours, that’s why.  It’s not bloody, not gory, not demented or malformed in any way.  Tranquil almost, like the creature died in its sleep in this nightmarish landscape, perfectly at peace.

You still don’t want to get anywhere close to it, but you have to.  You pull a face and slowly reach out, absolutely not thinking about the literal impossibility of it playing dead and just waiting for the moment to strike, but even still…  Even if there was nothing more sinister hiding underneath the surface of this scene, it’s still… existentially fucked up.  The last time you were confronted with a dead body, Din had to be the one to dispose of it—you couldn’t even think about it without threatening another wave of shock to your system.

And now you’re voluntarily grabbing the rope around one’s ankles and dragging it back down the pure white slope to the Razor Crest.

It doesn’t weigh that much and its icy exterior seems to work in your favor; it slides easily along the snow as soon as you get it moving.  As the ship comes back into view, you hurry to the door and you’re just about to open it when you suddenly get the feeling that you’re forgetting something…

Oh—

It takes a few moments of searching around in the freshly fallen snow, but eventually your fingers brush metal underneath and you stand, reaching behind you to tuck the blaster into your waistband.  When you’re positive you’re not going to accidentally shoot a chunk of your ass off on accident, you shove open the door and pull the body inside, before locking it tight behind you and keeping the frigid winter from touching this warm, quiet safe-haven.

There.  Halfway done.  You almost don’t want to look in case he wakes up unexpectedly, but then you find yourself peeking over your shoulder at the silhouette of Din’s body still passed out under the blankets and you’re thankful the squeaks and slams didn’t disturb him.

And then you take just a second to wonder if this is what it must be like for him.  Minus your obvious discomfort and ickiness at beginning to haul the corpse over to the carbonite chamber, it seems like it’d be reminiscent of any other time he’s brought back a dead quarry while you and the baby slept soundly.  Trying to be quiet, wanting it done and over with just to get back in bed that much faster, doing everything you can to prevent anything out there from so much as breathing on anything in here.

You do your best to hold on to the loveliness of the thought, because this part is the part you’re most anxious about.

The body needs to go into this slanted upright space so you can freeze it in carbonite.  And in order to do that, you have to grab it and put it there.  With your hands, you have to grab it.  With your hands.

You look down at its face, calm and at peace, frozen and forever etched into that expression, and something twists in your heart.  If it weren’t for the kid, that could’ve been Din.  If it weren’t for the kid walking barefoot through snow, fighting an uphill battle to make sure you get to him, helping you drag him back here and then overexerting himself to make sure he’d be okay, that could’ve been Din.  He drives you crazy on a consistent basis, but he came through today.

Know what?  If that little squirt can save a grown man’s life twice in a few hours, then the least you can do is finish this job for all three of you and fly your asses out of here.

Weirdly enough, being frozen solid allows for way better handling than the alternative.  It means you don’t actually have to touch it too much; you don’t have to deal with the limpness of death, it doesn’t seem as much like a person as it does a rigid board you’re simply moving from one place to another.  You can just grab the shoulders and yank and the entire fucking thing goes with it, solid and upright, naturally wanting to lean back into the chamber so you don’t even have to hold it in place.  The perfect quarry for you basically, day one stuff, as easy as it could get.

Almost done, almost done—you study the key panel on the upper-right frame before eventually pressing a few buttons, and then you step back as gas freezes and solidifies the corpse in its carbonite prison.

Yes.  You’re done.  You already want to take another shower just from touching it for a few seconds, but that can wait.  Quickly making your way up the ladder and into the cockpit, you fire up the thrusters and then navigate the ship through and beyond the swirling white atmosphere of this dreadful fucking planet, before punching in familiar coordinates to Nevarro.

***

“Din,” you murmur, making sure you have your eyes completely covered with one hand before gently easing the blanket down from his face with the other.  “Din, I want you to drink some wat—”

He jerks awake so suddenly that you hear the metal canteen fall over on the floor next to you, thank the Maker its lid is on tight.  You automatically reach out to steady him, pressing your free hand to his bare chest and continuing to speak calmly and gently to reassure him, but he still scrambles to take in his surroundings after sleeping longer than he probably has in weeks.  

You know what he’s seeing, even though you’re blind right now.  You took time to make sure everything was settled before waking him.  The hull is clean with only a single light to illuminate it, the baby is still snoozing in his closed crib, his armor is stacked in a neat pile, the blaster is put away, and you retired your makeshift blanket heater box so the only thing left is you.  Freshly showered, hair dripping, offering him water, and dressed in just a thin shirt with nothing else (you ran out of things to wear).

“Wh-Where’s my h-h-helmet—” is the first thing he asks, voice broken and raspy.  Stars, he needs water.

“The padding inside is wet,” you quickly supply, keeping your hand tight over the bridge of your eyes to make sure his freshly conscious mind immediately understands that you have no bad intentions.  “I swear I didn’t look, and I made sure the kid didn’t either.  He’s sleeping now, it’s just me—I swear nobody looked, I swear.”

You might just be saying the exact same thing over and over again and admittedly, that might be putting some weird kind of suspicion on you, but you just want to make sure he knows.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It’s important that he knows he’s safe and that everything is okay now, even if he collapsed and spent an unknown amount of time in a purgatory where nothing was.

His body trembles under your palm, waves of shudders attacking him even after hours of keeping him as warm as possible.  “Are—Are we st-still on H-Ho—H-Hoth—”

“No,” you answer.  “We’re in hyperspace.  Everything’s okay now, I took care of it.  We’ll get to Nevarro on time.”

It’s like he takes just a few extra moments, as if he’s trying extra hard to remember before responding.  “But—I d-didn’t—”

“You have four bodies for Karga,” you tell him, not letting him get too lost trying to recall something that no longer poses an issue.  “I took care of it.  You need rest, I only woke you up to make sure you drink some water, so please—” you blindly reach your hand out for the canteen you know has to be around here somewhere, but all you feel is…

His.  Catching yours.

“Y-You took c-c-care of…”  His hands are trembling harder than his voice.  “Sh-shit, I’m freezing, I—”

“Drink some water,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll go turn off the light so you can sleep more, but you need water.”

His hand feels like it doesn’t quite want to let go of yours yet, but eventually it does and you hear the sloshing of water as the metal flask is picked up with an unsteady grip.  Purposefully turning your back to him and making sure he’s not in your line of sight whatsoever, you finally let your hand drop and blink your eyes open at the wall across the hull.  You hear Din shakily unscrew the lid while you stand up and find the light switch, before turning around in the pitch blackness and using his loud gulps as your guide back.

Your hands and knees are barely on the blanket when you hear him toss the empty canteen to the side and grab you, pulling you down to him.  

Fuck, you’re not expecting it.  You fumble in the dark but he doesn’t really give your clumsiness much of a choice—Din pulls you under the blankets like he needs you, his body craving that warmth even though his skin doesn’t feel cold at all.  He hooks a strong forearm around your tummy, keeping your back pressed tight to his chest while the rest of him curls to fit every part of you, and you have to adjust the blankets yourself.

It’s not even a few seconds after you settle into position when his trembling hands jerk down to grab your shirt and yank it up.  You quickly scramble to help him get you as naked as he is, feeling his palms drag greedily across the heat of your tummy and breasts before you’ve even finished wiggling the fabric over your head.  The shirt lands somewhere in the darkness and you’re squeezed back against him, your hands landing on his forearms as they wrap around your waist and he clings shamelessly to you.

“You…”  Din’s body still shivers every once in a while but the heat and closeness allows his voice to even out just a bit.  He clears his throat and swallows, tucking his head and burying his face in your hair before trying again.  “You brought back the qu-quarry?”

“Yes,” you confirm, confident in your reassurance but gentle at the same time.  “It’s in carbonite.”

All you can feel or hear in response is his breathing.  His heart beating steady and strong against your back.

And then Din’s arms suddenly squeeze you tight—tight.  He lets out a low shaky exhale against the back of your shoulder and presses his lips to your skin.  “Sweet girl.”

And he says just… so much with those two words.  Slow and purposeful, the steadiest thing you’ve heard from him in hours.  But the two biggest competing emotions you hear tugging at his vocal cords are gratitude and apprehension.  Like he already knows that it couldn’t have been easy for you.  Like he’s not taking it lightly.

You don’t want to talk about it.  You don’t want to talk about anything that happened in the past few hours, not right now.  “It’s okay.  Please.”

This time his silence seems to be on the brink, as if he wants to say more but the extra plea you put on the end makes him hold onto his words, at least for now.  

“How d-did you find me?”  He asks instead, scooting his legs up enough that yours actually go with him.  Cradled in his naked body, radiating heat so he can recover, pressed so close to him that you feel like gravity itself would be pushing you into his lap if the world weren’t sideways.

“The kid,” you tell him.  “We were goofing around outside and he dragged me ov—”

It’s like he’s still so cold that even just the surprise of hearing you say that makes his whole body lock down and convulse a few times against your back.  “You were wh-what?”

“I was practicing,” you openly admit to him, feeling like the earlier events already occurred a lifetime ago and you have no reason for being shy about it anymore.  In fact, you’re glad you were there, being terrible at shooting.  The alternative is unthinkable.  Though, something tells you also improbable, having a little supernatural sidekick who cares so deeply for him.  “I raided your armory.  We weren’t outside for more than five minutes before I wanted to go back in, but then he found you.”

And you think he’s going to get after you, for some reason.  Seems about on par, you figure—going outside for even just a few minutes on a planet whose name you now remember is colloquial slang for hell, even if it’s the only reason he’s not an icicle right now.

But he’s just quiet.  Breathing.  So you just relax into him, thinking that’s the end of it.  You take a few deep breaths in through your nose and just… rest.  In the near perfect silence of hyperspace you used to find haunting, but now only find comfort in.  It reminds you of him.

“Did you hit the target?”  He asks you quietly, and at first you scoff, about to ask if he’s kidding.  No, of course you didn’t hit the…

Only, after a remarkable delay, hearing him phrase it that way suddenly makes your stomach decide to drop and do a fucking somersault on the ground out of absolutely nowhere.

Everything comes flooding back.  The conflict you used to think was the most pressing thing, the one that kept you awake and your thoughts scrambled for hours.  It feels like it was ages ago.  An entire lifetime has passed since that happened, you might’ve forgotten it altogether if he didn’t decide to ask that very simple question in a very specific way.

“I…” you mumble in response, your heart suddenly pounding.  “Not… not yet.”

Okay, that’s a good answer.  It’s the truth and you’re giving nothing away by saying that.  So now what is he going to say?  What is he going to say?  You spoke your piece, it’s his turn now, that’s how conversations work.  Well typically, that’s how conversations work—but with Din… you probably should’ve known.

He falls back into silence almost immediately, appearing to accept your answer just the way it is without anything else to add.  You feel his heart continue to beat strong against your back, but there’s something too tense about his stillness that doesn’t imply he’s relaxing anymore.  His body goes slightly taut, but not from the lingering chill in his bones.

He’s going to make you ask him, you realize.  He’s waiting until you confront him about his choice in words at the shooting range.  Which means he wasn’t just joking around.  He wasn’t just messing with you.

“Din…” you whisper uncertainly, and his face suddenly finds its way into the crook of your neck as soon as the word leaves your mouth, arms tightening up around you.  You spent forever trying to find the words to even bring this up, and here he is, already knowing exactly what you’re asking just by the tone of your voice.  Still, you ask anyway, sounding small and so unsure of yourself in the darkness.  “Why did you say that?  On Tatooine, why did you…”

Din’s chest expands against your back with a long, slow breath, and then he lets it out against your neck, hot enough to raise goosebumps all over your body.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, voice muffled and quiet, but it’s not… casual.  Not like he’s brushing you off or indicating he doesn’t want to talk about it, but like it’s actually a complete fucking mystery to him, just as much as it is to you.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” you repeat slowly.

“You had said something,” he mutters, shifting just a bit behind you.  His palm slides up your bare tummy, stopping in the warm spot just under the swell of your breast.  “Earlier that day.  I thought about it, and then I just… s-said it.”

You?  Said something that made him ask that?

“What?”  You blurt out, genuinely startled and having no fucking clue.  “What did I say?”

“Something about…”  He gives the smallest shudder from behind you, and you don’t actually know if this one is from the cold.  “Not wanting anyone else to know me the way you do.”

Your heart rapidly kicks up and you flush, hating how unbelievably possessive your own words sound coming out of his mouth.  “Oh shit, I… I didn’t mean for that to be… that sounds so bad, Din, I swear I didn’t mean for it to—”

He cuts you off by clutching you tighter, burying his face deeper into your neck and breathing out shakily.  “Tell me you meant every word.”

You blink a couple of times in the pitch black before sighing, letting go of any charade or front you think about putting up for him to save some dignity.  “I meant it.”

Because it’s the truth.  You said it when you were caught off guard, throwing it out to him along with other mindless drabble that came from a place that was very real.  You don’t like the way you phrased it, but you meant it.  You do mean it.  Every word.

If there weren't so many things still left unsaid right now, you might actually worry he fell asleep on you.  Din loosens up considerably after you admit it, letting go of more tightness you didn’t even know was inside him.  His head slowly drops from the crook of your neck to the back of it and he breathes hot air on your nape, quiet for a long time.

And, you suppose you’d actually be okay with it if that was the end of the conversation.  There are, of course, millions of things left to ask.  But he doesn’t know the answers, just as much as you’re left clueless about the questions.  You’re not expecting him to elaborate anymore, and if he’s waiting for you to ask, he’ll be waiting a long time.  Soon your eyes close and you almost feel yourself beginning to drift.  It’s been such a rough day today and to just be here in his arms, it’s more than enough for you.  

But then his low baritone comes through the darkness.

“In Mando’a,” Din’s voice suddenly whispers against your skin, “the verb, kar’taylir… it means to know.  Su kar’tayli, you know, kaysh kar’tayli, they know.  Ni ke kar’tayl nu… I don’t know.”

Your eyes pop open and you immediately forget all about sleep, wide awake and suddenly hanging onto every word as it rolls so gently off his tongue.  You’ve never heard the language spoken aloud, you’ve never heard anything about the Mandalorians directly from one before.  All of the stories seem sensationalized, passed down by word of mouth and chipping away at the kernel of truth until it disappears completely.

“The language is dying,” Din continues, murmuring soft and gentle along your nape.  “By the time I learned it, too many words had been lost.  The ones left were the ones that were needed.”

“What do you mean?”  You whisper, almost afraid of breaking the quiet.  Not wanting him to feel distracted or pressed, but needing to express your curiosity lest you somehow overflow with it.

“There are only three pronouns,” he answers slowly, and you’re already fucking fascinated.  “Ni, for I or we.  Su is you or you all, and kaysh is third person.  Subjective, objective, possessive, singular, plural—doesn’t matter.  Three words, for every individual or collective in the entire galaxy.”

You blink in the darkness, your logic telling you that it sounds so simple it’d become confusing and then your logic also telling you that doesn’t actually make any fucking sense at all.  If that’s true, it’s unbelievable.  How do they differentiate?  Just context?

“How do you distinguish?”  You ask him.  Admittedly, you don’t know much about linguistics—not anywhere near the extent he does, but it seems so counterintuitive.  I can’t be the same word for we, the amount of misunderstandings would be a nightmare.

“We… don’t need to,” he explains to you, slowly, like nobody has ever asked him these things before and so he’s unsure how to phrase it.  “Individuality isn’t valued, it’s not a concept.”

And… you almost can’t wrap your head around it.  “What do you mean?”  You ask again, knowing you’re sounding like a broken record without specifying more, but trying with your whole heart to understand.

“I mean… we swear oaths to never reveal our faces,” Din tells you, something you shouldn’t need to be reminded of.  “We abandon our names.  We become… whispers, of the same voice.  There’s not many words in Mando’a with a unique meaning, almost all of them are homonyms.  Interchangeable.  Transient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, suddenly blown away by the implication.  Almost all of them are homonyms?  How in Maker’s name are you even supposed to communicate at that point?  That’s… unthinkable.

“Most words have two meanings?”  You clarify, wanting to be absolutely sure you’re getting it right.

“Most have five or six,” he returns, and you’re downright shocked now.  “Everything just depends.”

“Stars…”  You breathe, moving a palm up the length of his forearm and holding the back of his hand with it.  Fuck, you hope this is the direction he’s intending instead of veering him off course, but you’re incredibly invested.  “What else does, uh… kay—er, kar… kar’taylir mean?”

Din lets out a slow breath from behind you, and you can… you can feel his own heart beating faster when it presses up against your spine at the apex of his inhale.  “It’s… a rare word, it only has two meanings.”

You bite your lip and start to feel butterflies in your stomach for some reason.  Slowly, his hand begins to travel up your breast and then to your sternum before heading just the slightest bit left, and your own hand moves with him.

“To know,” Din says quietly, “but also… to care very deeply for.”  He doesn’t stop until his palm presses right above the rapidly pounding organ in your chest.  “To hold in the heart.”

“To know,” you swallow thickly, curling your fingers around his hand and praying he’s saying what you think he is, “or… to love?”

“When Mandalorian’s take vows, there’s no ceremony,” he whispers into the back of your neck.  “No witnesses, no celebrations.  We just take our helmets off in front of the other and look.  It doesn’t sound like much, but… our secrecy is our survival.  Letting someone see our face and swearing lifelong devotion to them, it’s the same thing.  To know is to love.”

Your eyes close tight and your lungs empty themselves, too full of emotion to even fit oxygen inside you anymore.  Din’s lips press feather soft behind your neck, and now you’re the one shivering uncontrollably.  The move up and trail along your neck in the darkness.

“Ni kar'tayl su,” he murmurs, shifting back just slightly and pulling at your shoulder.  “I know you.”

You go with him, facing the ceiling as he fits his head under your throat and places slow, open mouth kisses down the curve of it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he goes on quietly, his voice starting to sound raspy again, dragging his hand down your torso while his lips brush your collarbone.  “For an eternity, I’ll know you.”

Water wets the corners of your lashes and you inhale three or four times before exhaling, shallow hiccups and desperate for air.

“Ni ke vaabi nu kaysh ke kar’taylir su te ni kar’tayl su.”  Din says, slowly moving his mouth back up when your fingers tangle in his hair and beg him to come that way.  The words dance along your skin as he whispers them, forever searing themselves into your memory.  You can’t see them, you’ll never have a visual to reminisce upon, but you’ll know how they felt.  Right under your ear, brimming with quiet devotion.  “I don’t want anyone else to know you… the way I know you.”

Your face goes blazing hot at the sound of him translating your own rushed and half-assed sentence into something gorgeous and flowing, something that sounds so much more beautiful than when you blurted it out earlier.  You told him you loved him in that hangar, right to his face.  Unashamed and stupid about it, but meaning it with every part of your body.

“I knew you’d say no,” he finally admits, staying in this one spot.  Unmoving.  Telling you the truth, allowing you to know it.  “I just wanted to… say it.”

That… that makes sense to you.  The last part does, at least, it makes so much sense to you.  The first time you said you loved him, you said it just to say it.  You wanted to feel the words, sound them out even if neither one of you could hear them.  It felt freeing, like coming to accept a universal truth.

The first part, though.  You’re still behind.  “You knew I’d say no?”  You ask him, feeling him ease back just slightly.  Staring down at you through the pitch black, even if he can’t see either.  Keeping his palm over your heart as the ship hurdles through nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You wouldn’t take my first name without convincing,” he reasons quietly, and then moves back to lay in the blankets once more, leaving the rest unspoken.

But he’s… oh stars, he’s so right.  If he’s going to take his helmet off and let you see his face—if he’s going to commit to you that way, it is not going to be because you shoot a blaster correctly.  Not after today, not after what he’s told you.

So you move up to your elbow and turn to face him, trying to let him know why even if he’s already guessed the what correctly.

“I want it to mean something,” you say after a moment.  “I want it to… have the meaning it’s supposed to have.”

Your palm finds its way to his chest in the silence following.  Right over the beating of his heart, feeling it thrum hard and rhythmic while he considers his response.

“This is The Way,” Din finally murmurs, settling his hand over yours, and you repeat the words back to him.  Respecting them.  Feeling like, for the very first time, they now apply to you in some way instead of belonging to some mysterious creed you’ll never know anything about.

But when a shudder subtly rockets up and down his body, you realize the blankets have been pulled down with the changing positions and his whole torso is bare and exposed to the hull.  So you pull them up until you’re both covered again, before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Din shudders again when your mouth opens and the hot glide of your tongue catches his skin, but you know it’s not from the cold this time.  His breathing deepens while you slowly move over him.  You ease him further on his back and let him keep feeling the warmth of your mouth on his body, alleviate the lingering chill by sucking gentle hickeys into his skin and feeling the goosebumps raise under your tongue.  He moves with you; he stretches his neck when you want to nibble his collarbone, arches when you mouth down his chest, shifts his elbow to let you drag your tongue along his ribcage.

And… and it’s as if all the stars and systems hold even more still for you than the relative physics of faster-than-light travel can explain away by themselves.  You’ve always felt timeless in here, living from one fleeting eternity to the next, suspended in perpetuity while the rest of the galaxy ages without you.  But when you’re with him and it’s pitch black and there’s no light to streak across your vision, no evidence that time and space have all but disconnected from each other just to let your insignificant little bodies through… it’s like you’re meant to be here.  In some strange, unexplainable way, you feel like you could’ve died out there with him in the frozen wasteland today and this is exactly where you’d still end up, no matter what.

To know is to love.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself whisper under his jaw, and you feel Din’s fingers thread in your hair and ease you up enough to brush his lips against your chin.

“Yes,” he whispers back, and then his mouth is on yours.