#(but i'm so late it's actually the 12th day of the new year)

[m1ndbrand]

"all it took was..." — The new President

WARNINGS: Coriolanus Snow is it's own warning(Snow after the 10thGames, 2 years after to be precise); Mentions of death and corpse(small description, nothing big).

SUMMARY: The 12th Hunger Games winner unfortunately fortunately gets the attention of President Snow.

WORDS: 1.384

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the franchise The Hunger Games characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I do claim what I wrote and only that.

A/N: If you know the tragedy of Coriolanus by William Shakespeare some names will be recognizable...Also I'm sorry but this chapter won't be the continuation of their little...encounter— but I promise, it's going to happen!

TAG-LIST: @sorry-mrs-jacobs; @phoward89;

MASTERLIST

He was never someone who believed in the stars and whatever they might mean to some people.

It seemed completely idiotic and beneath someone from the level of education, you would get from the Capitol to have this belief that in his humble opinion, of course — was archaic and beneath him.

Fate and stories written on the stars were all but a way of fairy tales being made, a topic on some and even a very important one at that "merging" some characters together like the universe itself deemed them a pair, one in two.

Star-crossed lovers.

How he hated that idea, he couldn't believe he even fed it to—

Let's not dwell on that topic, he had better things to do, like arrange a new Games Maker for the 12th Hunger Games.

Doctor Volumnia Gaul is no more, some freak accident with one or more than one mutt; it wasn't clear, the body was far too mutilated to be recognised by anyone at all if not for the DNA tests and well...the place of the accident, a place only a few people were able to enter and of course Doctor Gaul was one of those people, him included in the small pool.

It was slightly weird however how the mulls were able to break free, the reporters debated it for the first days the case broke daylight, but the theory was quickly suppressed.

After all, mulls were still in being tested and we're highly volatile, their behaviour unstable and unpredictable. And of course, accidents happen.

But the world continues to go around and so shall the Capitol, he needed to find someone and fast. 

He should have looked more into it, the selection that is. But he had more important things in his place, strength the security in the several points of entry on all distractions, the training of the peacekeepers and the change of the uniform like he so petitioned for just to name a few.

The new and young president had more important things to worry about than some person who would probably be soon replaced if so needed.

The theme he chose ,he didn't even try to remember the man's name, was an advanced-looking arena; a sign of the year the Capitol got a new President. Coriolanus liked the idea. It painted his future reign as one that would lead them into the future, lead them into a better time.

It painted him as a good leader.

The reaping ceremony passed without a problem. Some students clearly didn't like something— their tribute lack of attributes to make them win or the idea of having to participate in such 'twisted games' as the rebel-like-youth liked to name his games. He honestly couldn't care less, blue-ice-like eyes looking straight at the screens with a fake polite smile when the camera twists at him, showing his all too polished self composed with a deep red suit and thick coat that made his figure even more imposing than it normally is.

He would soon return to his manor and actually work, the two hours of the opening ceremony put his work ethic behind schedule more than he liked to admit.

There was much to be done to make the Capitol and the Districts into the way he saw fit and Coriolanus shouldn't waste more time than he already has.

Not even a day later he would have the files of everyone who chose to review. For some reason the late president did this— the threat of the Rebels was still very much a problem and he was of course scared shitless by them so all 'useful' information was of course turned into two paper pages that it was his duty to read through.

Coriolanus was just about to skim through them all but the very first file caught his attention, District One female tribute.

Not the girl's image he didn't even look at it properly, he already saw every tribute face on the reaping ceremony... all looked underfed and clearly not fit for an entertaining games in terms of pure brutal strength, the mentors would need to sell them well to the Capitol. No it was her name. Her last name rang a bell.

A big warning bell was inside his head and it made his eyebrows furrow, hand picked up the two-page long file and flipped through the description of her family. Something was amiss, he could feel it in his bones. Something was wrong. 

Coriolanus could almost feel the hunger tearing at his stomach, his small sweaty hand tightly gripping his equally moist cousin's hand as they received the news of his father's death.

His other small hand gripping the files of several names of supposed rebels that could be the reason behind his father's death. Blond hair falls against his sweaty forehead as at that time he didn't understand why he had to read the names of random men.

Brutus.

His hand grips the file on his hand, veins popping up as his eyes skim through the contents of the file, once and then twice. He didn't even sit down, reading in silence for 10 minutes over and over again to look out for another word, sentence, or anything more.

Only two people are still alive from her family— grandmother and little brother, Valeria Brutus and Menenius Brutus, then they got the last name from her grandfather. His hand moves the paper right and left, trying to see if her grandfather's first name was there. But it wasn't. It probably wasn't deemed to be useful information since he is dead. Putting the papers down he turns with a sigh to his window, chin rising as he looks to see all the perfectly arranged garden of pure white roses in the front of his mansion.

No this shouldn't matter. It didn't matter, not now. He got what he wanted he won, the victor. He was still standing with or without his father.

The nostalgic feeling of feeling hungry regrows once again and it makes him nauseous, sharp eyes turning to the face of the girl on the page. She looked like every other girl he reminds himself as he starts a little too long at her face. Eighteen, one more year and she should have been safe from the reaping.

A smile creeps on his lips. Amusement dancing in his eyes like he had just read a good enough joke.

He couldn't sleep.

Coriolanus hated to be in need of something even if it was just a simple pill to go to sleep. He was better than that, he could sleep alone thank you very much.

Couldn't he just get the information he wanted? He could, he had the resources, and he had the needs to if he so pleases, so why not?

No.

No, he wouldn't lose to this...whatever this is, curiosity, need— want to know. Closure.

Maybe that was it. Know the person or people that did this to him. To his family. The people that made him starve and struggle. Envy and step on people that he knew were living better than him, growing to bring them down so he could feel himself high above them all. Know the people that in a way, made him the way he is now.

Rising he presses the inside of his palms to his eyes.

For fucks sake— Shut the fuck up! 

His mouth was open. Eyes shot open and hands grabbing tightly the silk covers, knuckles turning white. Did he shout those words? Wasn't it all in his head? His hands were shaking, face was slightly flushed red from anger.

It's one of those episodes.

Rising he curses under his breath, feet carrying him to one of the small tables with some pills on them. Deep eyes thin as he tried to look into the colours of the various drugs that looked like they were thrown there and he picked a deep purple one in the midst of the rainbow and quickly gulped it down without water.

His attention is caught by the silver-like glow of the moonlight slipping through his windows, blue tired-looking eyes looking up at the sky, they find the stars instead of the moon that sings for attention. Wishing to catch a stray star amidst the ones that stay. Maybe he could catch it as it falls.

With those thoughts, sleep would soon catch him.

Previous

[project-sekai-facts]

Happy 1 year of trivia!

As of now, it is March 12th where I live, which is the first anniversary of this blog's creation!

Technically it's 1 year and 1 day, but the date doesn't lineup because of the leap year. Today actually is 365 days since the first fact was posted. Stupid leap year.

To mark the occasion, I have queued some of my favourite facts and meta I've posted over the last year to post every hour for the next 2 days! There will still be new facts at the regular time as well.

Thank you so much for the support over the last year!! I never expected the blog to take off like it did, I just started it to infodump about the game and didn't even see myself keeping it up for more than a couple of months, especially since I created this immediately after I started playing the game again following a several-month hiatus. Truly, seeing people get excited by my trivia posts and essays, and getting to interact positively with other fans is what has motivated me to keep going, with the blog and the game itself.

I love this game a lot, and I'm really happy that I've been able to meet people who are just as passionate about it as I am. Without this blog I probably would've stopped playing if I'm being honest, and I never would've rediscovered my love of media analysis and writing, so I'm really thankful for everything. I hope I've been able to be a mostly positive face in the community, and thank you for having me!

I'm sorry I've been rather inactive lately, I've been really busy with deadlines, applications, and now finals, but this should only be for a few more months. I'll keep doing my best with this account in future!

Thank you so much! ありがとう！

[pubbamoon]

Hi, I'm a new follower after I read your post on the Venus signs and their music preferences. I'd like to hear your thoughts on people who have Pluto in the twelfth house. And, what would you recommend to people who have Pluto the twelfth house to try and combat their fears and the hidden parts of themselves?

Pluto in the 12th house

Hi bestie, thank you so much for following my Tumblr account. I really appreciate that. So, you want me to say something about having a Pluto in the 12th house and how can you deal with this placement? Without further delay, let's start!

The first thing I'm going to do is to describe the mentioned planet and house themself. Pluto is one of the three outer planets and it's the most distant astrological planet from the Sun in modern western astrology. It's the modern co-ruler of the Scorpio sign and the 8th house. It does represent death, rebirth, obsessions, extremes and where we experience intense ups and downs in our life. We either get everything from the Pluto or absolutely nothing, there's literally no between. It can also represent our dark side and the part of ourself that we hide or are ashamed of. Pluto changes signs every 15-30 years, so the placement of the Pluto sign doesn't have much significant influence on each person individually, since it's the generational planet, indeed. But when it comes to the houses, there comes the real power of Pluto.

The 12th house can mean several things. It is the last house in astrology and it's being ruled by Pisces and Jupiter (and it's co-ruled by Neptune in modern western astrology too). By saying that, the 12th house is associated with spirituality, religion and how we approach them. It also represents our conscious mind, daydreaming tendencies, how we sleep, isolation and everything that is hidden and it's not or can not be seen in a real world. This house is also about mental illnesses which can be hard to recognize and it's the opposite of the 6th house which is associated with physical illnesses which can be seen and are pretty obvious. It can also represent our karmic debts from our past life and why we are incarnated to this world again, if you actually believe in reincarnation and the similar kind of stuff. I heard from another astrologer from TikTok that this house is about prison too. It's a very complex house overall.

When the planet Pluto and the 12th house come together in someone's natal chart, this tells me that this is a person who is prone to the extremes when it comes to isolating from everyone else. These people may spend their own time alone for years and they wouldn't mind it. There could be some kind of generational trauma or karmic debt from previous lifetime that people need to break and it may not be easy with this natal placement. They could also have nightmares while sleeping or they simply have a terrible sleeping schedule. One day, they wake up too early and another day they wake up too late or something like that. Other people around them might be obsessed with them or people with Pluto in the 12th house in their natal chart might be obsessed with the people around them and no one would notice that. Stalking tendencies from you or from someone else can be relevant with this placement as well. I sense that these people used to be abandoned or lonely throughout their early life, which could be the reason why they isolate themself later in life or why they have a fear to introduce themself to the new people or experience. People having this placement in their natal chart might got some religious trauma from the childhood or change their religion drastically. On the positive note, since the 12th house is associated with spirituality, these people with the natal Pluto in the 12th house may experience many spiritual awakenings or constant changes in the way they think. Their intuition could be very strong and they can immediately feel whether some people are good for them or not.

For some of you guys who have the Pluto in the 12th house in your natal chart, I would highly recommend you to go to the therapy and talk with psychotherapist. I didn't graduate Psychology degree and I can't help you with mental illnesses and these kinds of stuff, but I think that telling people how you feel or journaling about your own feelings could help you a lot. If you can't afford therapy, then the intense shadow work may also be helpful for you. You need to acknowledge your darkest side, work on that and don't let demons from your heads manipulate you or make you do something that can hurt other people around you. I feel that you might have deep emotions which may be valuable and I think that you'll feel better if you free yourself for the expression of your emotions or from the fear of rejection.

I guess that would be everything about this observation. Thank you so much for following me and messaging me. For everyone else who follows me too, feel free to ask me about everything you would like to know about your natal chart's placement in my inbox. Keep it mind that it should be the only one particular placement from your natal chart. Thank you for your understanding in advance and wish you all a beautiful day.

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[farahsamboolents]

stranger things major dates:

(this is actually part of a much larger post i plan on making, with a loooot of background bullshit that nobody cares about, but this is just the dates :P please note that it took me a while to get the hang of this note taking thing so it’ll get more accurate as the seasons progress, feel free to fact check me)

(other thing to notes: I'm assuming that all of these dates are one after the other or even simultaneously, but according to wikis online, the timeline is much more stretched out, implying that there are other days we don't see.)

S1

Will went missing on November 6th, 1983. There were search parties November 6th and 7th; on November 7th there was the big storm and it was called off.

Steve’s party was on a Tuesday . Steve broke Jonathan’s camera the next day, which was the day of the funeral, as well as the day Will was rescued .

[UPDATE: i missed a day in here, because Steve breaking the camera was a catalyst for Nancy seeing the photos, which led to Nancy and Jonathan going monster hunting, and they spent the night together before Will was rescued. Sorry for the goof!]

Other dates mentioned:

Joyce has worked at Melvalds for ten years

According to Hop, the last missing person was summer of 23, last suicide in 61.

Seven years prior (1976) there was a drowning in the quarry

S2

The season starts on October 30th

Mike says into the walkie that it’s day 352

el tells hop on November 1st that it’s day 326 (since she moved in with Hop). She runs away on day 327.

Wills birthday is March 22nd.

The time skip is implied to be late November/early December (okay honestly i don’t remember how i came to this conclusion, it’s just in my notes. I think the title card must’ve said “one month later” or something.)

^ this is when Hawkins lab gets raided by govt vehicles with Murray watching, as well as Hop getting El’s forged birth certificate. The Snow Ball is around this time as well.

Other dates mentioned:

“Last month a coworker of Ted Wheeler’s” discussed El. Not sure how he blabbed after almost an entire year.

Steve was aiming for early application into college, which was closing soon.

Steve and Nancy were working on their Halloween costumes for “a stupid amount of time”.

At some point between S1 & 2, they took Will to a doctor in Chicago.

Nancy says she waited. Jonathan says only a month.

S3

The only actual date on the timeline I noted was the fourth of July. Sorry. I'd have to count backwards for the rest of the plot points and I guarantee I will count wrong.

There is a time skip for three months later, which would now be October 1985.

Other dates mentioned:

El watches Miami Vice on Fridays. It starts at 10.

The Hawkins Post tagline says "Courage in Journalism since 1947".

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "SCANDAL ROCKS SMALL TOWN" about Starcourt on July 11th, 1985

The Indianapolis Gazette publishes an article headlined "THIRTY DEAD", and the subheader reads "Hero Chief Dies in Fire" on July 15th, 1985

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "MAYOR UNDER FIRE", and above it there is text that reads "Hawkins makes headlines around the nation" on July 12th, 1985

After the three month time skip, a news special on Channel 4 WCPK-TV links Satanism and D&D for the first time within the show

The Byers are packing up after the time skip. Jonathan says, "Seventeen years of my life. Packed up in one day." (kind of impressive tbh)

Mike initially planned on visiting the Byers for Thanksgiving, and El is supposed to come back for Christmas (this obviously does not happen).

S4

The massacre at Hawkins Lab was September 8th, 1979.

(apparently I neglected to take note of any actual Date Dates after this)

The season starts on the Friday before Spring break.

Mike arrives in Lenora on Saturday morning.

El is arrested on Sunday.

Joyce and Murray are told to meet Yuri in two days on a Saturday, which means that episode takes place on a Monday.

The original Creel murders happened in 1959.

When Erica yells at Jason, she says she's been covering for Lucas for two days.

The faux reference latter that Nancy has for Director Hatch is dated March 29th, 1986

Lucas and Max agree to a movie date the following Friday

The death toll two days later is 22

Other dates mentioned:

Max sees Miss Kelly on Thursdays

The Indianapolis Gazette published an article headlined "3 Dead as Police Probe Grisly Scene" about Creel on Thursday, March 18, 1959 (the text on the date is super blurry, I'm mostly confident I got Thursday and March right but I can only mostly tell the date is two digits, and the first digit is a 1)

Victor Creel was back from war for 14 years when he bought the house in Hawkins

Billy was born March 29, 1967

The Nina Project was named after the opera Nina by Nicolas Dalayrac in 1786

Dustin's birthday is in two months, three days, and five hours (from when they reach Suzie)

The dates on Brenner's tapes:

Dustin's shirt says "Craftsbury Banjo Contest" with the year 1986 on it

The Hawkins Presbyterian Church was constructed in 1897

[fifteensjukebox]

tagged by @amidalleia tysm!!💖

last song: winning by emily haines & the soft skeleton has been in my head and i have whatever a photographic memory but for music is called so i think it counts. i was trying to figure out the change in timing starting about a minute into the song and my memory wasn't good enough to figure it out, and i think the last song i actually listened to was wet blanket by metric (emily's band) in the car yesterday. what can i say i love her! (the update is that I tossed this post into my drafts earlier and i have now actually listened to winning and almost figured out what she's doing but i'll have to discuss with my music theory-knowing brother)

favourite color: turquoise/mint/teal/sage/cool amethysty purples/the denim blue VW car colour (my beloved first car was a vw beetle we called lulu so that colour is now lulu blue in my house à la dodie yellow)

currently watching/reading:

rewatching btvs and angel mid s4/s1 respectively while showing it to my mom and brother for the first time! it's taking ages but we're having the best time

gilmore girls - (late mid s3) first watch w my parents! there's so much i know from here and so much i don't but i know i love jess

grey's anatomy - watched s1-17 with my family a few years ago (begrudgingly at first bc i so did not want to watch a medical show. and sooo long! but it really is that good (sometimes)) & have been watching weekly as it airs since, but we just caught up on the first bit of the current season yesterday bc i didn't realize it was back. and i love the new class of interns so much we are SO BACK

not dead yet - the only show i'm currently watching by myself week to week as it airs and of course my favorite character is the white man i hate it here... i do love the women too though!!

doctor who 12th doctor rewatch but i stopped like a month ago in the middle of the episode before the cybermen plot starts bc it's just going to break my heart to lose bill for a third time. but i miss them! missy most of all so i will get to it soon

i'm not really reading anything at the moment but i have a couple audiobooks on hold at the library (yeah this is jenny's answer exactly but it applies!)

relationship status: single and i don't go out enough so i doubt it'll change anytime soon

sweet/savory/spicy: i want to say sweet bc i loooove sugar but i add salt to everything lately, i even added it to a rice krispie square the other day, so....

current obsessions:

also still nancy drew forever and always, but honestly i don't have a fandom hyperfixation atm! it's all about furniture shopping.... i'm looking for a small chair/stool for my bedroom desk, and a bigger table to go with my living room big chair so i can have my laptop/food/whatever else i want bc i seem to spend most of my time here

and emily haines/metric music (lately i haven't been listening to much me after 2007, but i love the more recent stuff just as much!

last thing you googled: something about the st vincent rock&roll hall of fame exhibit bc i'd seen a clip about it on someones story but i couldn't find the full video (still haven't)

no-pressure tags: @redheadedbrunette @apolloamy @godofsmallthings @jemhowling @acafemmeic @electrictouchfeaturingfalloutboy @coldnightairinmylungs & anyone else who wants to! i love these sm

[do-i-make-you-randy-yeah]

ugh, so i had to re-break up with my ex-bf on Tuesday (Jan 2nd) evening and yesterday I was mostly with someone (my therapist, at work, hanging out with the kiddo and their dad) and when I got home I was exhausted enough that the mean thoughts about myself couldn't kick in. (That is a lie, I was consistently negative about myself yesterday.)

But now I don't have to be to work until 3pm and I am home alone with my thoughts and I hate it.

I feel like I was leading him on for two and a half weeks, but I thought he was just being thoughtful because it was the holidays and he didn't want us to be miserable through them. I figured we were just waiting until after the new year to discuss future living arrangements, since lease re-signing isn't until late March normally. I broke up with him on the 12th, removed our facebook relationship status (the real indicator, as we are millennials) and we spent a whole bunch of hours talking about it and then we had sex and cried and cuddled and I slept in his bed with him. The 13th and 14th were tense and then on the 15th we got into an argument because I asked him if he knew where the lid to my rice cooker was and he took it as an attack because he had done the dishes and he "knew I was going to be weird about it". I went to my room and told him I didn't have to do this anymore because I'm not his girlfriend and he asked me to please not close myself inside and did I have to throw it in his face that we were broken up because he knew and he just wanted to spend time with me and he gave me another birthday gift and I cried and told him I was really angry that it took me breaking up with him for him to get sober and I didn't want to have to be broken up, but we had to be. And he said he had done all his crying in the past couple days and he wanted me to have a good birthday and he didn't think we were broken up like that anyway (which I thought meant in a way where we were fighting all the time and walking on eggshells around each other) and did I want to come watch a movie with him? So I did, but that was the last we really talked about it.

Did I sleep with him in those two and a half weeks? Yes, once. Did he give me a kiss and call me baby everyday? Yes, but he asked if he could kiss me the first time and so I figured it was just what we were doing and I figured he was calling me baby because it was so ingrained in our vernacular. And the first time that happened was on my birthday, so of course I'm going to say yes. And it was the day after we had just had that talk about not throwing it in his face, so I wasn't going to be a dick and tell him don't call me baby. And also, friends kiss and cuddle and things in my world.

But in his mind, he had quit drinking and he was making a concerted effort to fix our relationship. And since I had said the previous evening that I didn't want us to have to be broken up, we were in limbo trial period. Then I was friendly and cuddly and smoochy and called him baby on his birthday. Then the day after his birthday, his mom called and sent him money for him for his birthday and for me for my birthday and then for him me and Sophia. He told me his mom had sent him money for us and he would send me my portion and I didn't turn down the funds, which I guess I should have if we were really broken up in his eyes.

Then on the 2nd, he messaged me about removing his relationship status from facebook because it was embarrassing to be in a relationship with nobody on there. I responded that I had removed mine when we broke up, not to hurt him just to state facts. Then my phone rang and my heart sunk because all of the past few weeks flew through my brain and I realized that I was going to have to break up with him again. I was going to have to break his heart again.

But I feel like a jerk. A huge jerk. This is actually not even the first time I have had a major miscommunication like this with someone re: my romantic intentions with them. I accidentally really hurt another man I loved who actually had the same birthday as my ex-bf/current roommate, but that miscommunication happened over text. This happened in person for multiple weeks. But this is also an amazing example of why we should not be together. We do not communicate to each other what we think we are communicating.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 140

Chapter 140: "I'm Here!"

Being reminded of the current date makes me think of just how little of the entire story we actually get to see. Starting from Conny's shipment on the 12th of October 2045 where we see pretty much everything until Norman's shipment on November 3rd until it jumps a bit to January 15th for Ray's "birthday." After the escape, we see all the stuff leading up to Goldy Pond's destruction on the 29th but then we skip another month until Emma wakes up from her coma. Couple weeks go by before that big timeskip starts when the Cuvitidala squad heads out early March, with the rare shelter visits we see during flashbacks, but the story doesn't pick up for us again til mid/late October 2047 when we got the shelter exploding, followed by the several day journey to the paradise hideout, and everything else bringing us to this moment. It ends with the kids finally crossing over to the human world a week later and then we're hit with another two year timeskip to the day Emma is found. I just think it's kinda wild how much we love this series and these kids despite only seeing a couple months of their lives within a story that takes place over 4-5ish years. Can you imagine if we were given more content?

Proud mom moment as precious daughter notices how baffled my son is as he rambles over the various possibilities of this complex cube and gets him to relax and remain hopeful within seconds with little effort.

When you usually offer your hand to someone, your palm is facing upwards, correct? So to this day I still believe it was Ray who held out his hand first here. It's a tiny detail that doesn't matter too much but nonetheless, it still warms my heart. Not even trying to go full on RE fangirl right now, but the fact Emma was just the one to reassure him that everything was gonna be fine and Ray decides right after to believe her and provide support to her in return is just real sweet to me, alright?

Bro I feel so bad for Ray. He went through all that trouble wandering the Seven Walls, facing his personal demons, dealing with an unimaginable amount of stress and sorta going through a mid-life crisis and he ends up getting kicked out! All that for nothing! I'm sure if he wasn't in a total panic over Emma's whereabouts that he'd be so pissed off.

Ch181 missed an opportunity to have Ray react this same way once he found Emma. It would frighten the poor girl sure, but perhaps it could've jogged some memories too since Ray shouted similar words to her towards her back in ch137.

I feel like I'm repeating myself (though can't remember exactly from which chapter, or somewhere else), but since no demon language is actually used in the anime, I have no choice to filter in something else in my head whenever I see someone speak His name. I could be nice and just call him demon god, or Scribbles as the fandom affectionately calls him, but unfortunately for Him, my mind filters to more rude name. Let's just say that bastard is one of the nicer ones (therefore reading such harsh names in the character's voice, like Emma's, is hilarious to me).

I'm still proud my boy was so close to figuring everything out! Aaah! I forget where it was mentioned, but Shirai said that if Ray had the chance to attempt the Seven Walls again, he would be able to reach the day & night, right? Not that I would think he would actually volunteer to suffer through all that craziness again though.

As much as I dislike the demon god, I'm not at all thrilled He was given one frame during that s2 finale slideshow. The fact that she alone was able to reach the day & night is simply amazing, no doubt one of her greatest feats, and yet the anime decides to just have her appear there without enduring any of the trials necessary to reach this sacred place. Emma making a new promise so her family can live a better life is one of, if not, the biggest goals of the whole story and the second season decides it's best to have this meeting last a couple seconds at most. It makes me so twisted.

Favorite panel/moment:

I honestly wish we got to see him break out into these intense rambling sessions more often, though I suppose it shows just how insane the Seven Walls are since Ray only became a mumbling mess at the sight of this cube and nothing else during the story.

[alara-kahya]

"Things end, that's all. Everything ends, and it's always sad. But everything begins again, and that's always happy." - 12th Doctor.

Self Para: Post break-up, 3 days later. Involved: Jayden Cross (deceased), her mom & Kian. Mentions: Nate Donovan & Emiri Tezel. Location/s: Cemetery & her home. Triggers: Death, grief, heartache.

"So, yeah, that's it. Sorry to come and bring bad news, I just... Well, selfishly I guess I thought it would help." Sighing as she sat on the ground in front of Jayden's grave, she tucked her knees into her chest and decided to just wallow for a minute. It was day three since Nate had walked out and aside from this right here, she hadn't told anyone. Not her mom, not even Emiri. What was she supposed to say? "I don't know how to talk about it with anyone else, or maybe I'm just scared to." Yeah, that felt more accurate. Alara had worked so incredibly hard over the years to shape herself into a strong and confident woman, it was difficult for her to show that she was still capable of being hurt. "I know what you'd say, I even know what you'd do, you would hug me and tell me to call my mom. Actually, you'd probably call her yourself. You can't beat a hug from your mom." She chuckles, saying something that Jayden used to say about her mother. Honestly, he was as close to an adopted child as her mom had, it broke her too when he died.

The soft laugh soon turned into a sniffle and before she knew it, she was choking back a sob and desperately wiping at the tears that spilled over her eyes. "How did I let this happen again," she puffed out a breath, still somehow laughing between crying, though it was far from a place of amusement. "I did what you always wanted me to do and I took a chance. Now look at me, right back to square one and you're not even here for me to say it's all your fault." Joking, but the words only made her miserable. "I feel like a fool, I really thought if I just kept patience, he'd find his moment and talk to me. Now I'm wondering if I should have pushed harder? And then I hate myself for thinking this could be my fault, because it isn't, is it? I gave him everything, and it just wasn't enough, how am I supposed to accept that? How can I when I don't understand." Groaning, what she does understand now is why she chose to come here and talk to a headstone over someone who could actually support her. Emotional and manic wasn't her best look, she wanted to try and vent a lot of it out before she turned to her family and friends. "It just hurts, it... yeah, it hurts."

The ache that swirled all around her insides only rippled outwards until it felt like even breathing in was painful. "I'm so lost without you, Jj, I miss you so much. So much." It wasn't fair. A thought that she seemed to be thinking a lot lately. Nothing was ever fair and she couldn't stand it. "You don't know what I'd give to go back, even if it was just to see you one last time." She lost herself when he had died, that much was clear to everyone who loved her, but what a lot of them didn't realize was that she never truly recovered. A part of her was still lost, still trying to claw it's way back but it never would. There was an empty space there in her heart that belonged entirely to her best friend. Sighing, she swiped more tears away and climbed up to her feet, staying crouched as her brown eyes lingered over his name. "Love you. I'll be back in a couple days, I'll bring beer." With a sad smile and a soft hand pressed against the cold stone, she takes a deep breath and turns to leave. Hopefully looking a little less blurry-eyed by the time she got home to greet her mother.

"Hey," calling out as she drops her bag at the door. "Sorry I'm late, work ran over and then I got talking to Jay," a statement that wasn't out the ordinary, it was never unusual for her to visit the cemetery just to keep her lost friend upto date on her life. "That's ok, sweetie. Little man is all tucked up, he's just waiting for a hug," her mom smiles, though she can't help but eye Alara with mild suspicion. "Everything ok?" Hard not to notice bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks when they were right in front of you, but it wasn't just that. It was something Kian had told her while they ate dinner. That he heard his mommy crying in the middle of the night. "Yeah, I'll go give him his hug," shying away from her gaze, she knew she couldn't talk about it right now, not while her son was waiting for her.

Making her way up the stairs, she does her best to rub the mascara away and go in his room with a warm greeting. "Hello my beautiful baby. Sorry I missed dinner." Walking over to sit on the end of his bed, her smile actually reaching her eyes just at the sight of him. "That's okay, but nanna made me eat sweetcorn," he pulled a blegh face and shuffled out his covers to envelope his arms around her. An action that had her eyes stinging with a fresh set of tears as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I didn't tell her sweetcorn is on the no no list now." Chuckling, she kisses at the top of his head, and holds him tight, finding a warm comfort that only he could ever really provide. It almost made her unwilling to tuck him back in, but she did, somehow resisting the urge to just lay down with him. "Mommy?" Innocent eyes peer up at her as she strokes his hair. "Are you sad?"

The question made her heart hurt, she never wanted to be sad in front of him but she should have known, he was always very perceptive. "I'm a little bit sad, yeah. Missing your Uncle Jayden a lot today." It wasn't a lie, and she obviously wasn't going to tell her four-year-old child about her breakup. "It's okay to be sad sometimes, as long as you know how to make yourself happy again, and I do, so don't worry." Nodding, she wasn't sure that part was quite true, not as things stood. "How do you do that?" He asks, making her laugh softly. "Well, I just look at you and all that sadness goes away. You know what I always tell you, I'm the luckiest mommy in the world to have a baby as kind and loving as you. But it's late, so close your eyes and dream nice dreams. I love you." Leaning forward to kiss his head, she waits for him to say it back and gently leaves the room, door ajar just how he liked it.

As soon as he was out of sight, she has her hands pressed over her mouth, silencing the hiccup and quickly making her way to her room. Washing up and getting into her pj's, she's surprised when she sees her mom still here, waiting for her on the sofa. "Now that your baby is settled, let me settle mine..." Patting a hand on the sofa, Alara looks between her and the spot, wary, almost timid. She didn't want to break, but damn, it didn't matter how old she got, a mother's influence was always the instinctive way to run. And so, she grabs a blanket and walks over, settling herself closely by her side, head on her shoulder and arm around her front, allowing her mother to just be there and hold her.

"Jayden was never wrong about this, can't beat one of your hugs." Smiling as she sits up, she doesn't bother to hide the sad defeat in her eyes, instead, she just shrugs. "Nate and I are done. He'd rather spiral than lean on me. I tried, but... It's pretty impossible to fight for someone who doesn't want to be fought for." The corners of her eyes crease as she tries to say it with a calm tone. As soon as she hears her mom say she's sorry, she shakes her head, trying to tell her she didn't really have anything else to say, except maybe... "You know what the worst part is? I never forgot how crap this feels, I broke my own promise never to put myself back in a position where I can be hurt because... I managed to convince myself that this time, it wouldn't end with tears."

And in a gesture to her own, she scoffs a sad half-laugh and tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She appreciates that her mom gives her the time to talk without interrupting, the squeeze on her arm is comforting enough without making her feel crowded. "Maybe I'm just not meant to be in a relationship. Some people aren't, and that's fine. I was happy by myself, I can be that way again." Nodding, "Yeah. It's fine. I'm- I'll be fine." Maybe if she said it enough, she would actually start to believe it. "Alara..." That soft tone of a concerned mother had her sucking in a breath as she shakes her head. "Don't. Please, just don't. I don't need you to say anything." She practically insists, misty brown eyes lifting up to hers only to close with a shaky sigh. "Okay, sweetie. I won't. But you should go get me some pajamas because I'll be staying here tonight." Her mom says, lifting a hand up to Alara's cheek, hoping that she wouldn't protest. Truthfully, she didn't have the energy, and not being alone sounded far better. "Thank you."

[justfor2am]

hi my interview has been rescheduled once again because of course it is ^_^ nothing wants me to be interviewed ig ^_^ anyways 🥺😈🛒🎢✨💋🎶⛔🍦🌞💖💌❌🧐🦅👀🤗💞🧠🤩🤯💔🤭 for the fanfic writer asks or wtevr they're called??? didn't realize until just now u even rbed an ask game so apologies 🫡 side note the 💥 emoji is so fun . its just like 💥💥💥💥💥 yk??? also feel free to skip any of those i just threw down the ones i think would be most interesting but as usual there r many

i am manifesting an interview AND a job for u, get that bag king!!!

also waough ty for giving me an excuse to talk abt my blorbos 🥺🥺🥺

and ya 💥 feels like ur comboing someone really well in a fighting game, like 💥💥💥 K.O. yanno?

this is def gonna be a long one tho soooo the rest underneath the cut this goes lmao

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Anything having to do with touch. I'm a sucker for physical gestures, so anything that involves details like brushing someone's hair out of their eyes, hooking a tentative pinky around someone else's hand, it doesn't need to be overt to get me in my feels every single time.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Yes! I threatened a major character death in [though I've closed my eyes, I know who you pretend I am] late in the final (12th) chapter lmao

I knew that being that late into the fic most people would've forgotten what the specific tags were and even less would be willing to scrolling all the way back up to check lol

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Like I said in the first Q, touch is a big thing for me. Eyes and anything having to do with vision also tends to be a big one, if you read a fic with both of those elements there's a decent chance I wrote it.

As far as overarching things, I prefer to write scenery over dialogue, and put a heavy emphasis on describing what the characters are feeling/thinking over having them verbally express it.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

I wanna say my [detroit become human au] has shit hit the fan pretty quickly. The fic opens with the conflict and it takes a few chapters for the reader to get any context, but once you've got it, going back to the start just makes your heart break.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

booo hiss grrr

no but actually uhhhhhh... I will say that when I've got a good idea rattling around in my head, I can churn out a fic for that premise very quickly. to the point that i accidentally wrote three chapters for one of my fics all within a day, because I'm unhinged like that

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

LOVE but only if they're done right. I appreciate first kiss fics that aren't perfect or a little clumsy, but also i'm a sucker for those picture perfect moments too

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

YA i do my best writing with some music on. I've been listening to a mix of things lately (Love from the Other Side by FOB, that new Shakira collab, and Flowers by Miley Cyrus) but i've also been looping my 14+ hour long exo playlist

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

I had a sculk!Grian fic from like, I wanna say October last year that I was 1k words into that just. Disappeared. No clue where it went or how I lost but, but in hindsight, it wasn't my best work.

I'm still a bit sad to have lost it, but considerably more proud of the things I've written since.

🍦 What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

I have come to the realization that I am horrible at writing fluff without some level of conflict within the fic. Whoops! Closest I've got is a [scarian sick fic] that I wrote recently lmao

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Either while I'm at work when it's dead during the day time, or frantically at like, 11 o'clock p.m., there is no in between.

💖 What made you start writing?

Wayyyyy back when I was 12/13 I used to be big into rp, and I came into the realization that the rps I was doing could just as easily be formatting into fics.

None of those fics were ever published, but getting to learn how to edit and rewrite scenes that had been planned out with another person made me want to start creating stories of my own.

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

Love love LOVE comments and feedback. Literally getting a comment is like a serotonin boost directly into my veins to write more, esp comments that'll point out specific scenes or moments/lines they liked.

someone pointed out that they liked the way I described fresh hickeys like blooming violets and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that comment ever since.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

That's a good question.... I'm trying to think of one that isn't like, a blatantly obvious icky trope.

I'm not sure if it counts as a trope, but Y/N fics. Not only are their primary function to act as fan service, they end up coming off very RPF to me which I'm not a fan of.

Oh, also RPF. Any fic i write has to do 100% with the characters those people portray, not the real person.

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Depends on the fic! For my [actor au] I've just been kinda flying by the seat of my pants, doing the occasional googling but not much. The opposite of this would be my [detroit become human au] where I literally rewatched jacksepticeye's d:bh playthrough and scoured wikis to make sure i'm describing androids correctly.

tl;dr: generally no, only as needed unless I get fixated on it.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

Fly by the seat of my pants, but i'm trying to change this! For my multi-chaptered fics I've started actually planning out future events, and even for this one big one shot im working on, i've got an outline in the works.

...though generally, i don't plan. it's a bad habit.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

GLADLY so speaking of that big one shot, it's going to be a boatem superhero au, i've started outlining it and getting my concepts together, i'm very excited for it!

here's a snippet:

It was fairly obvious that the Mayor had pulled some strings to get Scar to this stage; once a nobody vigilante who seemed more preoccupied with dazzling the camera over saving lives, Scar's public image had taken a hard left turn during the past few campaigning months.

The situation was more of an open secret— it was all too convenient for Scar, who practically lived in the Mayor's pocket, to be joining the city's most elite crime-fighting team.

it's VERY early in development so don't expect this one for a while tho

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I'd say figure out your character's voice is a big one. It's easy to fall into fanon tropes and while they're fun, they can cause lots of warping in the way you write your own fics, which might make them sound off.

So look out for fanon tropes! Personally I've run into people who make Scar very sweet and innocent, to the point of dusting his hands clean of blame. It's an easy hole to fall into, and no one should fault a writer for falling into tropes.

There's a line to walk, and I find that watching content relating to that character really helps shaping that "inner voice".

Also, get someone to proof read your work who is willing to point out your mistakes. Editing/betaing is never meant to be a personal attack, but rather to make sure that the fic you present to the rest of the world is cohesive and clear.

💞 Who’s your comfort character?

Scar! He just gets me fr. He's one of my favorite guys to write because of how versatile and how much variety he has. He could be a silly salesman one minute, and a quietly scary assassin the next. Whatever the bit or joke is, he fully commits to it, often to the detriment of himself, but god does it make for good content.

Also he has a really good narration voice ok

🧠 Pick a character, and I’ll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

(ty for the speedy discord reply lol)

Grian! my darling baby boy who has every mental illness ever

no but actually, i'd say my favorite grian head canon is anything having to do with him being an alchemist. i want that man brewing potions, getting blown up, and curing all his friends ailments with the most illegal looking brew you've ever seen in your life.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Grian, mostly because he comes easiest to me! There's such a sense of endless potential when I get ready to write him, and like, idk what it is, but longing too?

We've been getting it pretty heavy w/ his whole "I Miss Mumbo" campaign but like, grian to me feels like someone who's always thinking about reaching a hand out, and pulls it back at the last second. It's very relatable.

🤯 What’s a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Weirdly enough, it's fluff. I always feel compelled to write stories with some level of conflict or it's not "satisfying" to me. I love reading the genre, but for whatever reason when I write it, I get in my head about if it's "good enough" or not without conflict. I'm working on that lol

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

EDIT: so i misread this, you get fic recs as a bonus. my proper answer is: [my bad ending fae two shot], it will shatter you as it did me </3

i'm going to give two because i do what i want. the first being [It's Only Logical by TSTrashCaptain] which is a sanders sides fic that to this day, i can only dream of writing something so good. tw for themes of abuse and nsfw at times, but god. just reading the title again puts a knot in my heart in the best way possible.

now, this fic. [your heart rots in my hands by thepigeoncat]. this fic slaughtered me the first time i read it. i left a long ass comment on it. tw for major character death, but this is the perfect last life scarian fic.

it's beautiful, and tragic, and it makes me feel as though the world has truly ended /pos. please go read it.

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

my favorite tag for when i post unbetaed work is "no beta we die like scar to the boatem hole"

as far as a REAL tag, hurt/comfort >:))

and my favorite one off funny tag is "i cannot emphasis to you enough how much blood is in this fic"

[fanfic writer emoji asks!]

[lorenlily]

1.12.2023 sorry I haven't sent and ask in a while the holidays were crazy I and I was pretty drained but I'm back! - Fall out boy 8 is coming after 5 years! Their new single is being released on the 18th! - Paramore released their new song today! The albums is being released on February 10th - The release of rush! Måneskins new album is in 8 days. They are releasing their single gossip the 12th/13th (depends on your timezone) - Wednesday has been renewed for season 2!

I was thinking about making a little website keeping track of all the issues of my newsletter. This is basically an excuse for me to make a carrd so I can decorate stuff lol. Anyway I might (maybe). Also I am tracking #userstarryeyes so I can help support content creators!

Song of the week: Hard feelings/loveless by lorde I made a playlist keeping track of the songs of the week https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6QY6hjAny7BMYyJtdzkXEU?si=vC21XGHITc6k-4XG502prA

Fun fact: Last year, one of every 25 vinyl LPs sold in the United States was a Taylor Swift album (according to billboard)

I'm so so sorry I didn't see this till now 😭

it's very late which is also what I am to fob and paramore thank you for the dates because I actually do wanna listen to their discographies before the new albums drop

a newsletter that's so cool! have you heard of substack (I think it's called) it's this place where you can blog and people can sign up to yours and get emailed all you posts like a newsletter and they can check the post on the blog and comment too

[rebellum]

Kinda personal post under the cut?? You can reply if you want. One of those diary-entry type posts.

Something something poetic post about how I'm p sure it's my old best friends birthday today. And how I met him through homestuck, a comic associated with April. And how it's been years since I've spoken to him, since i finally cut him off and said "no what you did was super fucked up and I'm still fucked up from it and I don't want to move past it with you even though you feel awful about it."

It's been years, but it's still his birthday.

But, is it? Was it April 10th? Or April 12th? Or April 14th? I know it around around homestuck day (April 13th). I try to erase him from my life but, like people from all past relationships, his essence still lingers in the depths of my soul. We are a patchwork of the people we have met and loved. And there is a huge patch of me, cut and torn and forever being restitched, that I can't remove.

December 24th was one of my old best friends birthdays. We were best friends in highschool, and a few days before I left the province after graduating highschool, they stopped replying to my messages. And never replied again. I checked on them, through Facebook, through friends. They were still alive. They just didn't want me in that life.

I don't remember the birthdays of my 3 childhood bestfriends. I think one was in late fall. One in early fall. And one in June. Sometime around there.

One of them, I still consider us friends, still consider us connected, even though we haven't spoken in over 10 years. I've heard it's that way with a lot of childhood friends -- you grow apart, but you still love eachother. She moved away when we turned 11. And I saw her once after that, when we were 13, and we had picked up where we left off.

The other two friends, about year after that friend left, just decided they didn't want me anymore. With one of them, we had been best friends for most of our lives at that point. The other was fewer years, but ages 9-11 still feels like a lifetime when you've just turned 12. They both just decided they didn't want to speak to me anymore. I don't know what I actually did wrong. If it was just growing apart, as some people have said (though I've always thought growing apart didn't involve a sudden cut of contact...), or if I did something wrong, or if they just... got bored of me.

I don't even remember their birthdays anymore.

I used to have three numbers memorized, as a kid: my house phone, my mothers cell phone, and one of my best friends phone numbers. All I remember now is (area code)-728. But was it even that? Or am I getting the 28 mixed up with her address?

After 12, I was worried about people leaving me.

After 18 or 19, I just accepted it. Relationships end. Sometimes suddenly. And sometimes best friends can do something terrible to you, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it, except to live a sad life never being close to people, which isn't worth it in my opinion.

I have new patches now. Some are little, and faded, and others have big tears that I've tried to sew shut, but will forever be bumpy and have a visible seam. So I guess all I can do is just add more patches, and appreciate the people in my life while they are still here.

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: It’s All About What You Want, p1

Fandom:  The Mandalorian Pairing:  Din x F!Reader (no Y/N) Length:  11,131 words in part 1,  ~21k total  Rating:  Mature (Explicit in part 2)    Summary:  Omega!Reader starts to feel differently about her Alpha employer, Mando, during a stopover on a planet with an unusual social hierarchy. [Set between seasons 1 & 2]

Warnings:  A/B/O fic;  this part contains scent-marking, confusion, implied f masturbation, and lots of UST;  author doesn’t know how plots work  [Part 2 has a drugged drink and the alpha/omega heat sex (p-in-v sex + knotting)] 

Notes:  This is my extremely belated Secret Santa fic for @lark-cale who has been absolutely the best possible sport about my extended tardiness, and also wrote this absolutely lovely Marcus Pike fic for me. Here you (finally) go, love. Thank you for your patience!  I hope it you like it.

I also owe so many thank yous to @keeper0fthestars​ who repeatedly listened to me rant, talked me down, and picked me back up when I was ready to quit (and also read all 20k pre-editing which deserves a goddamn medal) and to @yespolkadotkitty​ for yet more encouragement (I needed a LOT), the beautiful custom banner, and beta’ing this beast!

It’s All About What You Want - part 1

[  twp’s Masterlist  |  Part 2 >>  ]

— 

Din stares at his reflection in the small mirror in the fresher.  

“Pull it together, di-kut!” he tells himself, and then quickly shoves his helmet back on so he doesn’t have to see his stupid lovesick face any more.  After all, only a complete idiot of an Alpha would fall in love with an Omega that didn’t love them back. 

—

“So, where to next?”  you ask Mando as he pilots the ship up though Duron’s atmosphere.  “Do you have another bounty or are we going back to Nevarro?” 

From the copilot’s seat, you watch as the blue-green sky fades to the black of space.  The baby is tucked comfortably in your lap playing with his favorite control knob.

“Another bounty. Last known location Reglan II.”  Mando says, but doesn’t elaborate right away, and that’s fine.  Over the half-cycle you’ve been working for him, you’ve learned not to take Mando’s silences personally.  He always gives you what you need eventually.  

Sure enough, once the ship is out of atmo and presumably pointed in the right direction, Mando turns to you, pulling up a holomap of the galaxy and zooming in on a section near the Mid Rim.

“Here,” he says, pointing out the dot labeled Reglan II.  A quick tap, and an info card for the planet appears.

You look it over, narrating for the baby’s sake.  You don’t know how much he actually understands, but he babbles back happily.  “A temperate climate—that means not too hot or too cold—that will be nice!  Moderately developed.  Ooh, maybe there’ll be someplace we can go shopping and get you some fresh fruit.  And it’s a... a gynocentric omegarchy?  What does that mean?”

“It means there’s a rigid social hierarchy.” Mando answers you. “Omega females at the top; Alpha males at the bottom.  Should be safe for you and the kid to go out alone.”

“Wait, you mean Omegas are in charge?” you ask, surprised, and he nods.  You try to imagine how that could possibly work. Usually it’s the asshole Alphas that have all the power because they’re willing to use their biological advantage and what or whoever else they can to get it.  Of course—you eye the back of your employer’s shiny helmet—not every Alpha is a complete bishwag, but enough of them are to make an Omega-run society sound implausible.  Nice, but implausible.  

Something else occurs to you.

“And Alpha’s are on the bottom rung?  Will that cause problems for you when you’re trying to catch the bounty?”

“I’ll manage.”

You imagine he probably will.

Arriving dirtside on Reglan II is uneventful... for all of about five minutes.  

After getting your things together, you follow Mando down the ramp, and out into the space port, the baby tucked into a carrier slung across your front. The grey-jumpsuited ground crew working in the shipyard mostly ignores the three of you, at least until you get within scenting distance.  You watch bemused as a short, furry Beta whirls around to stare at you with wide yellow eyes.  They scent the air, then turn their back, speaking urgently into a com link.

You can’t make out the words, but Mando probably can.  When you see his shoulders tense up, it’s enough to have you stepping a little closer.  A few cycles ago, you’d have laughed at the idea that proximity to an Alpha could mean safety, but that was before you’d started working for Mando.  It had seemed like the best of a bunch of bad options at the time, but he’s never given you cause to regret it.

“Let’s go.”  He grabs your arm, urging you back towards the ship.  You start to retreat, but before you can make it to the Crest, you’re intercepted by uniformed guards.  

Mando sweeps you behind him with one arm, crouching slightly.  You step in close and clutch the baby protectively, watching the guards warily as some of them spread out and circle around to surround the three of you. They’re all armed but none have their weapons drawn. Yet.

“Is there a problem?”  Mando asks.  His voice is calm, but the hand that hovers over the gun holster on his hip tells a different story.  You’re sure the guards notice too.  The baby whines into the tense silence, wiggling in protest against your too-tight hold.  You shush him without looking down, trying to keep an eye on Mando and the guards at the same time.

“There doesn’t have to be,”  one of the guards says, stepping forward with hands raised in a deliberately non-threatening way.  She seems to be the one in charge.  “If you come with us. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

Mando turns to you, and you feel him hesitate.  Can tell he’s weighing the likelihood of being able to shoot his way back to the ship with you and the baby without anyone getting hurt.  You give a slight shrug, trying to let him know you’ll follow his lead.  You trust him to calculate the odds better than you can.

After a long moment, Mando turns back to the guard leader and nods. “We’ll come.”

The guards relax, and so does Mando, but you notice his hand doesn’t stray far from the gun on his hip.  You resolve to stay alert and make a point of sticking close to his other side—just in case.

You’re escorted into one of the buildings surrounding the spaceport, down a long hall, and through a set of double doors flanked by another pair of guards.  Security headquarters, you assume, based on the sheer number of uniformed guards in the room.  Oddly enough you can’t smell a single Alpha among them, only Betas, and even a couple of Omegas which is weird.  You’ve never heard of Omegas being part of a security force before, but maybe it has something to do with the social hierarchy Mando was telling you about.  

The leader of your pack of guards keys you through a heavy duty blast door and into yet another hallway.  This one is narrower and dark, featureless except for a row of doors with small windows in them.  You jump as the blast door clangs shut behind you.  Kriff.  You don’t like being so cut off from the outside and your only means of escaping this planet if things go bad.  You hug the baby close and scoot a little closer to Mando.  You don’t like this at all.

“It’s okay,” Mando says, quietly.  You turn a deeply skeptical look on him, but he looks the same as he ever does.  The armor blocks most of his scent, but what little you can smell seems calm—overly so, like maybe he’s putting out calming pheromones.  Or is he just so used to terrifying situations that they don’t affect him anymore? 

Before you can question him, one of the doors along the hallway opens, and a tall, white, androgynous alien in an even whiter robe steps out.  

“Mistress Omega, this way, please,” they say, putting their four arms to good use as they prop the door open with one hand, hold a holopad in another, and gesture you through with the remaining two. 

A moment later, the guard leader says, “Mandalorian, you’re with me,” as she opens the neighboring door.  Your anxiety spikes as you realize they mean to separate you. 

“But...” You cast a pleading look at Mando.  Realize with a start just how little space there is between the two of you.  You wonder if you’ve been subconsciously edging closer to him or if he closed the distance himself.  Then he wraps one large gloved hand around the back of your neck and squeezes, and you freeze in shock. 

Your mind catalogs the feel of worn leather, cool and smooth against your skin, and the way his scent is suddenly filling your senses.  Then Mando lets go and steps back; gives you the smallest of nods, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened; and follows the guard through the door.

You stare after him.  Did that really just happen?  Mando’s never touched you like that before.  He hardly ever touches you, much less to scent-mark you like some storybook Alpha comforting a skittish packmate.  Kriff, you kind of are a skittish pack—er—crewmate, aren’t you?  Was he trying to make you feel better?  If so, it seems to have worked.  You’re still not happy to be here, but you definitely feel less nervous now.  You kind of hate that.  

Stupid Omega biology.  Stupid feelings. 

“What was that?” you grumble to the baby.  He just babbles back as you finally get your ass in gear and follow the polite white alien through the door they’ve been holding open for you.

The room you enter is… nice.  Welcoming, even.  There’s soft lighting, framed art on the walls and a comfy-looking couch and two armchairs that sit on a large, fluffy rug in the center of the room.  Except for the lack of windows it wouldn’t look out of place as some rich family's living room.  However intimidating the hallway had been, this room was obviously designed to put people at ease.

“Please. Have a seat,” the alien offers.  Now that it’s just the two of you, you can smell that they’re also an Omega, which makes you feel marginally better about being stuck in here with them.  They watch as you sit gingerly on the couch before settling into one of the arm chairs.

The baby cranes his neck in an attempt to look around the room—no doubt checking to see if there’s anything edible.  You free him from the carrier, settling him on your lap where he begins to fidget with your fingers.   

“So what happens now?” you want to know. 

“Now I ask you a few routine questions. The goal of this interview is to gain information about the intended purpose of your visit to Reglan II, and to verify your safety as an unmated Omega traveling with an Alpha.”

“Oh. Huh.”  You’re not quite sure what to make of that, but you suppose it can’t hurt.  “Okay.”

They smile at you encouragingly, then read the first question off the holopad.   “Are you being coerced, restricted, restrained, or otherwise influenced against your will in any way by the Alpha you are traveling with?”

“What? No!” you exclaim, “He wouldn't do that.”  You’re almost offended on Mando’s behalf, but.. well... you know how the universe works.  

Your interviewer nods and makes a note on the holopad, smiling faintly.

“I am required to ask. Then you are traveling with this unmated Alpha Mandalorian of your own free will?”

“I… Yes.”  Those are actually some pretty important questions, you realize.  Maker, you wish they’d ask questions like this in more places.

“Good.”  They nod again.  More tapping at the holopad.

“What would happen if I... wasn’t?”  you ask, thinking grimly of all the horror stories you’ve heard over the years.  The ones you’ve seen firsthand.

“Then we would help you regain your autonomy.  The government of Reglan II believes in an Omega’s right to self-determination without compulsion, and our society works to ensure the comfort and autonomy of all Omegas.  If you were being held against your will, you would be offered sanctuary, and your attacker would be permanently expelled from the planet.”

“Oh,” you hear yourself say.  There's an odd feeling buzzing in your chest at the idea that there is a whole planet working to protect people like you.  It feels a little like fury and a little like grief and a whole lot like joy.  Your lips tremble and stretch in an unfamiliar way.  You think you’re smiling, but it feels strange, sharp.  Your voice comes out unintentionally vicious when you continue, “I think I’m going to like it here.” 

The alien Omega smiles back, a touch of the same sharpness in their smile, and a moment of understanding passes between the two of you.

They’ve just looked back down at the holopad to ask the next question when the baby lurches suddenly to one side, almost falling off your lap completely before you manage to grab him.

“Whoa! You okay there buddy?” 

Big eyes slowly blink up at you, and he leans heavily against your arm. 

“Are you getting tired? It’s almost naptime.” He’s usually a pretty good sleeper, but you have to wonder if he’ll really be able to go to sleep here in such an unfamiliar situation. 

You look back up at your interviewer. “Do you mind if I walk around with him while we do this?”

“Not at all.” 

So here you are, walking in slow circles around the couch, rocking the baby as you answer questions:

You came to this planet because Mando’s hunting a bounty. 

No, you don’t know who he’s hunting.  A female twi’lek Beta... uh... you think?

You’re pretty sure the plan is to stay until Mando catches the bounty, maybe a little longer. 

It’s almost embarrassing how little you know, but plans are really more Mando’s department.  Your job is to watch the baby and be an extra set of hands when needed.  In exchange you get to travel the galaxy with Mando.  It’s a pretty good deal, actually.

At this point you’re answering questions mostly on autopilot, more focused on keeping your voice quiet and trying to project a calming aura in hopes of lulling the baby to sleep.  It all seems pretty routine, until...

“What are your heat preferences?” the alien asks.

Wait, what?  You look over at them, confused.  “What preferences?”

“Heat preferences. For a partner.”

You blink stupidly for a moment, trying to make sense of the question.

“I can put your Mandalorian companion down as your preferred heat partner,” they prompt.  Your face or scent must give away your shock, because they quickly continue,  “Or social services has a selection of safe, clean Alpha partners in a variety of genders on call.  There are also well stocked isolation rooms available if you prefer to work though heats alone?”   

“I…”  You’re still stuck on the first option.  Mando? Sex with Mando?!   

“But I have a suppressant implant!” you finally manage to squeak.

“You will still need to make a selection. We are required to have one on record so that your consent is not violated in the event of a breakthrough heat.”  

You duck your head to stare down at the baby.  Thank goodness he’s already dozed off, because you’re sure as shit not projecting calming energy anymore.  

“I—  Can I think about it for a minute?” 

“Of course.”  Long white fingers begin tapping away at the holopad, and you’re grateful your interviewer is giving you at least the illusion of privacy. 

You take a minute to tuck the now-sleeping little one back into his carrier, trying to decide what to do.

It's not like your answer will matter at all.  You’ve been on suppressants for a long time without any issues, and your current implant is good for another three years.  You haven’t had a heat since your very first ones as a teenager!  

They are still expecting you to answer though, so you should probably at least try to take this seriously.

You close your eyes and take several deep breaths in through your nose, blowing them out through your mouth, trying to fight down the semi-hysterical laughter that wants to bubble up as you consider the offered options. 

Mando? You snort. Yeah, No.

And definitely not some random Alpha. 

You think about those “well stocked” isolation rooms.  They’re almost guaranteed to be a damn sight nicer than the shitty rooms you’d locked yourself away in to ride out your first few heats.  That was a long time ago, but you still remember how miserable it had been.  The heat and the longing, the aching emptiness that eventually turned to cramping pain when nothing you tried could satisfy the need to be filled.  It had been unbearable.  You’d done everything you could think of—scrimped and saved and worked your ass off—to be able to buy suppressants as soon as you could, and you’d never looked back.  You’d sworn at the time that you’d never feel that way again, and the promise of some fancy isolation room isn’t enough to change your mind.  

But you also can't imagine letting an unknown Alpha help you through your heat. Your stomach knots up just thinking about being that vulnerable with someone you don’t know, and you have to take a few more carefully measured breaths to fight down a sudden bout of queasiness. 

That leaves…  Mando.  

You’ve never really thought about Mando that way.  Not after you got over your initial worry that he might try to take advantage of you like some other Alphas might have.  Mando is just Mando.  Your solid, dependable employer.

You might trust him enough, but you don’t even know what he looks like; barely know what he smells like under all that armor.  But... The feel of his hand on the nape of your neck comes back to you, and you try to imagine that feeling, but more.  What would it be like to be close to Mando, surrounded by his scent?  To have him between your legs, pressing against you?  What would it be like to have him inside you?  The image comes easier than you’re expecting, arousal shooting though you hot and sudden. 

You gasp, eyes flying open.  You meet the politely questioning stare of your interviewer, feeling somewhat appalled with yourself.  Your cheeks are burning, and you wish you could blame the heat there on embarrassment alone.

“I’ll just put you down for an isolation room, shall I?” they say, obviously sensing your distress.

“N-no. No.” You try to sound more certain than you feel. “Put the Mandalorian I’m travelling with down as my preferred heat partner, please.”

The interview wraps up quickly after that, and all too soon, you’re heading back out into the hallway, brand new temporary ID bracelet shimmering on your wrist.  Mando’s already there, looking shiny and solid as always, but your all-too-recent thoughts about him fill your head, making it almost impossible for you to look at him.  Out of the corner of your eye you see his helmet tilt forward slightly as he looks you and the baby over, and a shiver goes through you.

When the guard opens the door to escort you out, you’re glad for the excuse to turn away. 

Mando’s silent on the way out.  You think you feel his eyes on you, but you still can't look at him.  You keep your head down and try to think about anything other than the bracelet around your wrist, which, among other things, lists Mando’s Bounty Hunters Guild identification number under ‘preferred heat partner.’ 

Once outside and out from under the watchful eyes of the guards, Mando immediately pulls you aside.  Your stomach clenches in a not-entirely-unpleasant way when he presses in close, his bulk crowding you back against the wall of the building.

“Are you okay?” he demands, his voice low and raspy over the modulator.  Has it always been that deep?  Have his shoulders always been that broad?  You catch yourself leaning in unconsciously, and okay, you need to stop.  Mando is your employer.  Your crewmate.  A comrade—yes, a friendly one—but nothing more.  

He raises a hand with—Kriff!—a matching ID bracelet to hover near your shoulder uncertainty.  Is he going scent-mark you again?  You inhale, trying to get a better handle on what is going on, then you narrow your eyes at him.  He smells unsettled.

“Are you?”  you ask, turning his question around on him.  You wonder if the guards asked him any uncomfortable questions, or if he’s just reacting to the turmoil in your scent.  It’s common knowledge that Alphas have a strong drive to protect those under their care.  You’ve seen Mando go into worried protective mode over the kid before.  You stare up at him, a little disconcerted to realize that you want him to get all protective of you too. 

“I’m fine.” he says gruffly, hand dropping as he steps away.  “Let’s go.”

Shit. You had to go and make it weird, didn’t you? 

You tell yourself not to be disappointed that he didn’t touch you again.

—

The spaceport turns out to be on the edge of a good-sized town, which is also the bounty’s last known location.

You walk side by side with Mando on the road from the spaceport, content to follow his lead in silence.  You’re trying to use the quiet time to sort out what’s going on in your head.

Okay, so you’ve had some unexpected thoughts about your employer.  And that’s fine!  It’s normal, even, for an Omega to think about an Alpha they spend a lot of time around.  It doesn’t have to be a big deal.  It's not like Mando’s interested in you that way, so as long as you don’t do anything to make things awkward, it should be fine!  You just need to relax and forget about it.

You tilt your head back, trying to let the warmth of the suns beating down on you and the gentle weight of the still-sleeping baby wash away the lingering tension.  Spaceport security aside, this planet is actually really beautiful.  The sky is wide and bluish-purple, twin suns peeking out from behind feathered white clouds.  The low buildings that line the road are painted in a rainbow of colors, green plants springing up between them or hanging from their balconies.  It’s… peaceful.

You turn to look at Mando and find his helmet titled in your direction.  You smile at him, and he looks away. 

As you get further into town, the road starts to get more crowded, and some of the sentients you pass shoot alarmed looks at Mando.  You wonder if the Alpha thing, the Mandalorian thing, or the giant rifle strapped across his back.  Probably all three, you think with pride.  He is pretty intimidating.

The road eventually spits you out into a wide open square filled with row after row of colorful booths and stalls and shops.  A marketplace!  Your lips quirk up.

“Do we have time to look around?” you ask Mando.

He nods, adding, “I’ll ask around about the bounty while you shop.”

You shoot him a grin, taking off towards one of the rows of stalls.  You have some pay saved up, and you’re excited to see what you can get with it. 

You look over the contents of each little shop and stall carefully as you make your way down the aisle, stopping occasionally for a closer look or to ask for or argue over prices.  

You’re surprised by how friendly everyone is.  Strangers nod and smile and move out of your way, and the shopkeepers all seem to want to chat, some even spontaneously offer you a discount.  Everything is going so well that when you start to feel nervous, it takes a little while to figure out why.  Everyone is being too nice.  It makes you feel like you should be waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

Then it does, but it’s not the shoe you were expecting.  

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Alpha.”  The sharp words make you look back at where Mando was trailing a little ways behind you.

Now that you’re paying attention, you see the way the crowd has parted around him, people tense or outright glaring, and it’s… odd...  to see your own general mistrust of Alphas reflected in the faces of these strangers in the marketplace.  They’re treating Mando like chopped convor liver, and it makes you want to defend him—to announce to these random market-goers that it’s okay: he’s trustworthy; one of the good ones.  You don’t, of course, because that would be ridiculous, but you have to do something.

“There you are!” you call, backtracking to Mando and smiling up at him.  “C’mon, there’s something I want to show you!”  You hope the smile on your face looks more loving and less frantic than it feels.  You’re trying to make it clear that you’re here with him, and, more than that, that you’re happy to be here with him.  You are happy to be here with him, you remind yourself, trying to swallow down your nerves so your scent doesn’t give you away.

After a moment some of the tension melts out of the crowd.  It’s working!  Disgust fades into disinterest, and people start to move on with their shopping.

You tow Mando away, thankful that he follows your lead back to the stall you’d been exploring before the interruption. The seller tenses a little as the two of you enter, but relaxes when you start up a conversation, chattering about the colorful blankets he’s selling.  A lot of heavy praise, a few minutes of bargaining, and one purchase later, he even condescends to answer a couple of Mando’s questions.   

“Thank you,” Mando says quietly as the two of you step back out into the marketplace.

“You’re welcome!”  You realize that you’re still holding his arm, and you give it a small pat before letting go.

After that, you pay more attention to how Mando’s being treated, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he collects nasty looks anytime he falls too far behind.  One particularly rude Devoronian Beta even spits at him! 

And after that, you hold onto his arm at all times, practically gluing yourself to his side.  Things start to go a lot smoother like that.  Everyone is just as polite to you either way, but they’re a whole lot more likely to answer Mando’s questions if you’re right there looking equally interested. 

Once the baby wakes up, you discover that parking him in Mando’s arms works almost as well.  But only almost, so you continue to stick close.  You’re glad you can do something to protect Mando for once.  It’s usually the other way around.

—

You stay at the marketplace until dinner time.

You and Mando have split up—he’s taken the baby to look for a fruit seller, and you’re in charge of finding the rest of dinner.  You’re standing in front of two promising-looking food stalls, trying to decide between them, when a voice comes from behind you.

“Go with the one on the left. They don’t cut corners with their ingredients.”

You turn to see another Omega woman about your age, gesturing at the non-offending food stall.

“Oh, thank you!”  You get in line, and when she joins behind you, you turn and introduce yourself.

“Lovely to meet you,” she says after you give your name.  “I’m Aitana.”

“Nice to meet you too!  And thanks for saving me from possible food poisoning.  Do you have any recommendations for what to order that will survive a walk back to the spaceport?”

She does, as it turns out, and recommends a couple of types of stuffed bread, one with savory filling, the other spicy. 

“Just make sure you ask to have them put in different bags,” she tells you.  “If they sit together for too long the scents spread and it dulls the flavors.”  

You thank Aitana for her help and place your order. You’re hoping to chat more with her after she orders, but by then both Mando and your food have arrived.

It’s time to go home.

—

Later that night, after the baby’s asleep, you and Mando sit together in the cockpit.  He’s been telling you about some of the different worlds he’s visited, and he just finished a story about an ice planet where a giant sea creature apparently tried to eat the Crest.  You think he must be pulling your tail, and you tell him so.  

“It’s the truth,” he swears, then, “I’ll take you there someday if you like.”

“I don’t know,” you tease. “The ice planet I’d like to see. The gigantic hungry sea monster, not so much.”

“Good choice. Two words: fish breath.”

You can’t help but laugh out loud at that, but it also reminds you of something.  Something you were thinking about earlier because of scents and prejudices and delicious bread. 

“Oh!” you turn towards Mando suddenly, surprised to see he’s leaning in, closer than you expected.  

“Do you think I should scent-mark you tomorrow?” you muse.

“Wh-what!?”  He sounds so incredulous that it makes you giggle.

“No, really,” you tell him, liking the idea more the more you consider it.  “Think about it!  Everyone in the marketplace treated you much better when I was nearby today. The baby and I can’t go within you all the time, but people also treated you better once you smelled like me, even if I wasn't right there! So all I have to do is rub on you in the morning. You should have an easier time of things once you smell like you’re mine. Uh… Mando? You okay?”

He’s been getting progressively more and more tense as you babble on, finally ending in a strangled sound during your last sentence. Your stomach swoops when he doesn’t answer. Oh kriff, you’ve probably offended him!  Why didn’t you just keep your stupid mouth shut.

“I mean, I could scent-mark you, if you think it would be helpful?” you try to backtrack, “But we don’t have to! If… if it’s weird or you’d rather not, then that’s fine, and oh Kriff—I’m sorry, Mando. I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t do it yourself or needed my help or…”

Mando’s hand covers yours and you fall silent.  You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for his judgement.

“It’s a good idea. Thank you,” he says, deliberately, before getting up stiffly, and disappearing out the door and down the ladder.

You sit there for a few minutes staring after him and wondering what just happened.  It’s not until you get up to head to your own bunk in the storage space behind the cockpit that you realize you still have a goofy grin on your face.  

He thought it was a good idea! 

Of course, it doesn’t seem like such a good idea the next morning when you actually have to do the scent-marking.

You’re barely awake, just out of the fresher, and still in your ratty, threadbare pajamas, when Mando catches you in the hold and announces,  “I’m going out. I should be back by dark.”

You cross your arms over your chest and stare at him for a moment, trying to get your brain to wake up.  “Oh….kay. I guess I’ll take the baby back to the market today. If… um… if that’s okay? I can take the com link in case we need to contact each other.”

“That’s fine,” he says, but he still doesn’t make any move to leave.  He’s just standing there facing you.  If he were anyone else you would say he looked expectant, but… oh, kriff!  Your conversation from the night before comes back to you, and your stomach swoops as you think about actually making good on your offer. 

He must be able to smell the way your scent goes wonky or maybe your hesitation shows on your face, because Mando steps forward and lays a hand on the back of your neck again.  Squeezing just like he did at the spaceport yesterday.

It’s simultaneously better and worse than last time.  The gesture helps to settle your Omega, but it also reminds you of your thoughts from the day before, and heat blooms in your cheeks and the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind,” comes his reassuring voice.  And how does he do that?  How does he always seem to know what you’re thinking?  Maker, you sure hope he doesn’t know everything that you've been thinking.

“No. I do want to—“ you have to pause to swallow down the impulse to say mark you.  Why is he still touching you?  And why do you like it so much!?  You ignore the way your skin tingles as the heat from his hand seems to leach through the glove, and finish instead, ”I want to help. Sit down, please?” 

You gesture somewhat frantically to one of several crates scattered around the hold, and he finally, finally releases your neck and sits down facing you.

The newly released skin at the back of your neck prickles, goose bumps spreading outward from where his warm glove has been replaced with the cool air of the ship.  You do your best not to shiver visibly under his gaze.  

You circle around behind him, hoping to gain a little privacy.  It takes a few false starts and a little bit of flailing on your part, but you do eventually run your hands across the back of his wide shoulders and down his arms.  You stroke over the folds of his cape too, and hope that will be enough.  It’s the best you can do, unless…  You hesitate for a moment, then lift your hands to rub over the scent glands on the sides of your neck before bringing them down to mark the cowl around his.

A staticky exhale comes from the helmet, and Mando stands abruptly, spitting out a low “thank you” as he heads for the already-lowering rear ramp.  You barely have time to call out “you’re welcome” and “good luck!” before he’s gone, the ramp beginning to rise again as soon as he’s clear.

“Okay, that was weird,” you say to the baby, who had poked his head out of Mando’s bunk when the ramp started lowering.  You scoop him up, trying to ignore the way your hands still tingle where they touched Mando’s clothes.  Your stomach feels a little shaky too, but you're glad you did it.  Mando’s out there smelling like you, and it’s going to make it easier for him to find the bounty.  Fierce pride spills through you.

It was a damn good idea, after all.

—

A supply run is also a good idea.  A necessary one, you discover when you go looking for breakfast and come up empty.  You dress quickly, pack up the baby and some sturdy bags, and head back out to the market.

You return to the same food vendor as yesterday, ordering more of the savory bread for the two of you.  It was the baby’s favorite last night.  You wonder how difficult it would be to make.  

You’ve just snagged a spot at one of the long tables situated nearby, when a friendly voice calls out “you again!” and you’re thrilled to see Aitana, your acquaintance from yesterday, heading your way.  

“So where’s your Alpha?” she asks, sliding in across from you, a steaming, yummy-smelling pastry in hand. 

“He’s not my Alpha!”  You concentrate on doling out bites of bread to the baby so you don’t have to look at her.

“No? Big shiny dude from yesterday? I’m pretty sure my nose says different!” she teases, and then smothers a laugh when you try to surreptitiously sniff yourself.  You actually do smell just the tiniest bit like Mando.  You try to ignore the thrill that shoots through you at the discovery.

Upon hearing you’re there for supplies, Aitana offers to give you a tour of the marketplace and help you find the best deals.  The three of you set off after breakfast, the baby cooing happily in his carrier, and you very quickly realize that you’ve gotten lucky.  Your new friend knows exactly where to go to get the best prices.  She also seems to know all the best dirt on the shopkeepers.

Your first stop is a clothing stall. According to Aitana, the owner likes to get drunk off his ass every night and keeps trying to climb onstage to sing along (poorly) with the band at the local cantina, but his prices and wares are good.  That’s good because you need some new pajamas—your encounter with Mando has driven home just how worn your current pair has gotten—and maybe see if you can find a jacket small enough for the baby. 

After looking around a bit, you’ve found both and are now debating the relative merits of buying the baby a tiny cape to match his dad’s when Aitana calls your name.

“What about this?” she says, holding up a beautiful black wrap dress. The cut is nice as is the quality, and you're sure it would make anyone, even you, look elegant and beautiful.  You make the mistake of running your hand over it, and discover that the fabric is thin and floaty without being see-through and one of the softest things you’ve ever felt.  It’s not even all that expensive.  Unfortunately it’s also not something you need.

You admire it for a long moment, before gently returning it to the pile. 

“You’re not going to get it? It would look so nice on you!”

“It is lovely,” you agree wistfully, “but I don’t need it or have anywhere to wear it.”

“What about wearing it for your Alpha?”  She’s teasing you again, but you can’t help but imagine it anyway.  

What would it be like to stand before Mando wearing just that dress and nothing else?  The image of him unwrapping you like the galaxy’s biggest Life Day present steals the breath from your lungs, and you have to shake your head to clear it.  

“He’s not my Alpha,” you repeat, not sure if you’re reminding her or yourself.  You give the dress a last lingering pat—it is very soft—then you make your purchases and move on to the next shop on your list.

It’s mid afternoon by the time your shopping is done, much more cheaply than usual thanks to your local guide.  You thank Aitana profusely for her help and her lovely company, then head off towards the spaceport, weighed down by your purchases and the baby dozing in his carrier.  

And if you make one extra stop at a certain clothing stall on the way back to the Crest, well that’s no one’s business but your own. 

—

That night, you’ve just finished preparing dinner when Mando comes up the ramp.  He seems to be in a better mood than this morning.  His footsteps are lighter, and when the baby goes running to him, Mando chuckles and scoops him up easily.

When you ask, he helps you move a couple of the big crates in the hold, making a place for you to sit across from each other.  You realize you can still smell yourself on him, just a little.  It surprises you how much you like it, and you remind yourself sharply that he’s not really yours.  He’s just your employer.

But as he sits with you and the baby, keeping you company while the two of you eat, you think he might also be your friend.  The idea makes you smile.  

Mando trails off in the middle of telling you about visiting the local cantina, just staring at you.  At least you’re pretty sure he’s staring at you.  You can’t see his eyes, but the weight of his gaze makes your skin prickle with awareness.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” you ask, shifting self-consciously.

“No, I just—”  He pauses.  “No.”

You wonder what he was going to say, and cast about for something to fill the suddenly-awkward silence.

“So the hunting went well?

“I didn’t locate the bounty yet, but I have some leads,” he says.  He also thanks you again for scenting him.  “It was a good idea.  I don’t think I would have made as much progress without it.”  

“You’re welcome. I’m glad it worked.”  You smile at Mando again, proud that you could help him.  When his visor stays trained on you, you imagine that he’s smiling back, and it makes happiness spread like liquid honey through your chest.  You only wish you could smell him a little better, or that he could take off his helmet and share a meal with you. 

You try to imagine what it would be like.  He’d come home to you just like he did today, but once the door of the Crest was shut, he’d remove his helmet.  You can’t imagine his face, but you can imagine the way his scent would be that much stronger.  The way he might step forward and wrap a hand around the back of your neck again, only this time, he’d use his grip to pull you in, kissing your lips gently before ducking his head to lick and suck gently at your neck.

An indecipherable noise from Mando interrupts your daydream, and you realize with a guilty start that you’ve been fantasizing about the poor guy right in front of him.

“I—”  his voice is hoarse over the modulator, and he clears his throat and tries again, “I need—”

He stops.  You stare at him, taking in the tense set of his shoulders and the way one of his hands is gripping his knee so hard the leather squeaks, and will him to continue.  You try not to imagine all the ways that sentence could end,  ‘I need… you.’  It could end that way, right?  Yeah, it could, but ‘I need you to stop stinking up the ship with your pheromones’ was probably more likely.

Oh, Maker.  He probably can smell you.  Shit!  So much for not making things awkward!  Your already heated cheeks burn hotter as embarrassment curdles in your stomach.  What are you even doing, thinking about him that way?

“I need to go eat,”  Mando says curtly, interrupting your panicked thoughts.  He stands abruptly, grabs the bowl you prepared for him, and heads for the cockpit where he usually retreats to eat his meals in private.  He hesitates for just a second as he passes by the crate you’re sitting on, and you feel the slightest brush of leather over the nape of your neck.  Then he’s gone up the ladder with a soft “thank you,” leaving you staring blankly at the baby, breath stalled in your chest as warmth seems to ripple down your spine from the place where he touched.

What is he even doing??

—

You think it over carefully, lying in your cot later that night.  You catalog the ways you've reacted to him.  The things you’ve been thinking about.  The way you decided not to shower tonight because you didn’t want to wash away the tiny hint of his scent that lingers on you. 

And okay: you’re definitely attracted to Mando, and you might—might—be developing feelings for him.

That’s… not great, actually, since there’s absolutely no way he’s interested in you.  Your chest clenches, and you roll onto your side trying to shake off the hopelessness weighing you down.

He’s been nothing but completely professional since he hired you, all those months ago.  You consider it a win that he’s warmed up enough to have a friendly conversation with you, but there’s been nothing to suggest he considers you more than a valued employee.  Except… well…  you run your hand over the back of your neck, thinking about the times he’s touched you there over the last few days, and then you have to press your other hand to the surging ache between your legs.  Yeah.  You chuckle humorlessly to yourself there in the dark.

You’re totally screwed.

The next morning comes too soon, and you stumble out of bed and down the ladder to the fresher in a daze.  Mando and the baby are sitting side by side on one of the crates in the hold, the baby munching on something from a little tray.  

At least, you think blearily to yourself, I’ve got my new pajamas on this time.

Once you’re finished using the fresher, you wash your hands and stare at your anxious face in the tiny mirror.  Now that you’re a little more awake, your stomach is in knots at the thought of facing Mando after your moment of... self discovery last night.

You make yourself take a couple of deep breaths and splash a little water on your face.  Then you practice smiling at yourself in the mirror until it looks almost natural instead of half asleep or terrified.  Okay, you can do this.  One last deep breath, and you open the door smiling a hopefully-not-obviously-terrified smile.

You can’t quite force yourself to look at Mando, so you focus on the baby instead, making your voice as cheerful as you can.

“Good morning, little one. What have you got there?”

The baby coos and lifts his little tray up to show you.

“Oh I see.”  You make a show of bending down and very seriously examining the contents, overly aware of Mando watching from beside him. You force another smile. “Looks like dad got you a good breakfast.”

Mando makes an odd sound at that, and you turn towards him, somehow surprised at how close he is.  And, oh shit!  You take an involuntary step back when you realize what you just let slip.  You’ve been calling him the kid’s dad for a while now, but you’ve never said it in front of him before.

“Oh, sorry! I know that he’s not— That you’re not— I—”  You try to fumble your way through an apology, but he only lets you mumble on for a few moments before cutting you off gently.

“It’s okay.”

You just shake your head, still feeling awkward and horrified at your lapse, because he explained this to you when he hired you to look after the baby.

“It’s okay,” he says again, standing and wrapping that big hand around the back of your neck again, and you can’t help the way that your eyes flutter shut and your head tips forward.  He must be trying pretty hard to pump out calming pheromones, because even with the layers and helmet you can actually smell him clearly for once.

“Okay,” you whisper, and you relax under the weight of his hand, your head dropping even further forward until it’s almost touching his chest plate.  It feels so nice that you guiltily resolve not to move a muscle so that you can continue enjoying the feeling of his hand on your neck for however long as he’s willing to stand here.  It turns out to be a pretty long time, his scent slowly fading from calming to just calm.

Eventually a loud clang breaks the silence, and you both jump back from each other and stare down at the baby’s little tray, now on the floor, food scraps scattered around it.

“Oh no, buddy!” You say at the same time that you hear Mando swear.  You drop to your knees and pick up the tray, trying to sweep up all the little bits of food. 

“I have to go,” Mando says from above you.

“Alright,” you respond automatically, distracted trying to pick a particularly stubborn piece out of the floor grating.

“Would— will you—”  Mando stumbles over his words, and heat rises up to fill you when you realize what he’s asking for, nearly stealing your breath.  He’s asking you to scent-mark him before he leaves.

You set the tray on the crate with forced calm and stand, awkwardly brushing your hands off on your pants.

You step up in front of him, trying to ignore the way the heat is pooling in your cheeks and… other places.  You don’t dare look at his visor, so you stare at his chest plate instead.  Just like yesterday, you start by rubbing your hands across his shoulders and down his arms, but it’s so much more intimate when you’re standing face to face.  He’s so broad and tall.

Mando stands solid and still as you touch him.  You’re not even sure he’s breathing as you run your hands down his chest plate.  Some madness seizes you, and you step forward and press your face to it, beskar cool and hard under your overheated cheek.

You hear a raged inhalation from under his helmet, and it brings you back to yourself.  You can’t believe you just did that!

You start to step back, having embarrassed yourself yet again, but Mando has you by the back of the neck before you can go too far.  You can hear someone’s heavy breathing rasping in and out, but you can’t tell if it’s you or Mando or both of you.

You realize that you want to scent-mark him.  Not just so people will be more polite to him, but because you want every bit of him to be absolutely covered in the scent of you.

You are suddenly very aware of every inch of your body and his and the places they connect.  And the places they don’t.

With his hand on your neck, his vambrace is lightly resting on your shoulder almost touching the scent glands on the side of your neck.  You tilt your chin up, unconsciously angling your head until they make contact with his wrist, then arching your body to rub along his glove and vambrace.  

Mando groans like you’re torturing him, and his other hand comes up to grip the side of your jaw, fingers splayed cover the scent gland on that side, lifting up and forward.  The pressure forces your head back at a sharp angle, and you go up on your tiptoes without meaning to, every part of you straining forward towards him.

Then just as suddenly he lets go and steps back.

“I— I have to go,” he says again.  And for the second morning in a row you’re left watching Mando’s back as he beats a quick retreat out the rear ramp.

You’re not sure how long you stand there staring blankly at the rear of the hold, your body still twitching and shivering and begging for him.  Eventually you’re distracted by something squeezing your ankle, and you look down to see the baby hugging your leg.  You pick him up, and he squeaks and coos at you excitedly. 

“He just ran away, right buddy? That was running away.”  You close your eyes, trying to get your body under control.  “What am I doing?  I have got to stop getting distracted and making your dad uncomfortable.”

The baby coos again, and you smile at him.  It feels a little stiff around the edges, your mind still focused on Mando.

At least you’re damn sure he smells like you today.

—

After the scent-marking debacle, you can’t stand the idea of staying on the ship with only the baby and your thoughts for company.  Somehow you manage to pull yourself together, finish cleaning up the spilled food from the floor, and get both of you ready to go.  You decide to head back to the marketplace, hoping Aitana might be there again today.  You could use a friendly face.

She is there, sitting at one of the long tables, and you're so relieved to see her, you feel like you could cry.  When you sit down next to her, she greets you cheerfully and offers you one of the pastries off her plate.  You thank her, and share it with the baby.  It’s delicious.  You wonder if Mando would like it?  You rub a palm over your face.  After this morning you’d better hope Mando still likes you, or you’re going to be right out of a job.

Aitana, more observant than you might like, asks if you’re okay. 

“I…. I don’t know.  I’m just so confused.” The whole situation with Mando is confusing—much too much so to try to explain in the middle of a busy marketplace.  Instead you ask if she can take you somewhere less crowded, “Maybe somewhere that the little guy can stretch his legs?”

“Of course. Come with me.”

She leads you through the marketplace and down an alleyway that cuts through several rows of colorful buildings before delivering you to the edge of town.  

You step out of the shadow of the last building and gasp.  A wide meadow of gently waving green and grey grasses stretches out before you, scattered yellow flowers are being visited by delicate pink butterflies, and the perfectly clear blue-purple of the sky arcs overhead.  It’s so beautiful that you actually stop and stare for a moment. 

The baby seems to be enjoying the view as well.  He babbles excitedly as you walk out into the meadow.  You stroll along until you find an area with slightly shorter grass to let him down on, and you and Aitana sit nearby, smiling as you watch him roll happily through the grass and chase the butterflies.  You have a small moment of terror when he starts munching on one of the yellow flowers, but your friend quickly reassures you that they’re safe to eat.

“Even for people,” she says, picking two and taking a bite off one before offering you the other.  You take it, but decide against eating it, tucking it behind your ear instead.

She asks you again if you’d like to talk about what’s bothering you.  

So you do, trying to borrow a little of the serenity of this perfect place to bridge the gap where your own inner calm is failing.

You tell her about everything that’s happened: getting detained by spaceport security, thinking about Mando that way for the first time, the way it’s only gotten harder not to think about it, and how your bright idea to scent-mark him so he wouldn’t be mistreated is not helping!

Aitana looks sympathetic at first, but more and more amused as you go on, until she’s barely hanging onto her composure by the time you’re struggling to describe how Mando keeps…. keeps…. 

“He keeps running away every time I do something awkward!”  

Aitana loses it at that, the bright peals of her laughter ringing out across the meadow.  And maybe it’s a little rude of her to laugh, but here under the gentle warmth of the twin suns you can’t quite manage to be annoyed. The situation can’t be all that bad if your friend is laughing, and… and Mando did look pretty silly this morning, cape streaming out behind him as he made his escape off the rear ramp.  

The memory makes you snort, which sets Aitana off even more, and soon the two of you are laughing hysterically together.  After a few minutes, she seems to master herself and sits up, gazing seriously at you, but as soon as she opens her mouth, she starts laughing again, which sets you off again, which, well...  It may not be getting you any closer to figuring out your feelings, but you can’t help but feel better for the release of tension. 

After several long minutes and false starts, both of you are finally calm again.

“You’re going to be fine,” Aitana begins, and you're hoping that maybe she’s finally going to give you some insight into the situation when the tranquility of the meadow is interrupted by a shout of your name.  

Mando comes bursting out of the mouth of the alleyway, and you're up on your feet, already scooping up the baby before you even realize you’re moving.  

You look to Mando for some clue of what’s going on, and quickly realize you panicked over nothing.  The way Mando’s moving, his arms swinging loosely and the tiniest bit of bounce in his step, tells you that he’s bringing good news.

“Mando!”  You shout, and wave, and his ground-eating stride covers the distance between you quickly.  The baby’s hover pod trails along behind him.  By the time he reaches you, you’re certain:

“You found the bounty, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” he asks, sounding confused.

“Because you’re excited” you tell him, but that only seems to confuse him further.

“How— How do you always...?” 

You just shrug and then make a face at Aitana who seems to be laughing at you from behind Mando’s back.

It occurs to you that they’ve never officially met, so you do a quick round of introductions.  You’re glad to see Aitana treats Mando politely.

“My younger brother is an Alpha,” she explains. “He moved offworld many cycles ago.” 

The baby reaches for Mando, so you hand him over, watching with a smile as he shows him the yellow flower he has clutched in one tiny green hand.

“Very nice,” Mando tells him, then immediately starts cursing when the baby shoves the entire thing in his mouth,  “Spit that out you little—”

“It’s okay. They’re edible,” you reassure Mando, patting his shoulder, then looking at him in confusion when you feel him tense up.

“I did find the bounty,” he spits out, then hesitates before elaborating, “She’s holed up in the local Omega Club.”

“The Omega Club?” Aitana looks him over incredulously. “You’ll never get in there without—”

“Without an Omega,” Mando says, looking at you.

“Okay, wait. What even is an Omega club? And why do you need me?”

Mando hems and haws for a few moments until Aitana takes pity on him and explains.  

“Omega Clubs promise to cater to any and all Omega needs, but they mostly exist to provide relief to Omegas in heat since there aren’t enough Alphas to go around.”

You wonder if that was where you’d find the “well stocked isolation rooms” mentioned back at the spaceport.

“Solitary Alphas aren’t allowed in unless they work there,” Mando says, “so the only way I’m getting in without a firefight is as your bodyguard.”

“Or your lover,”  Aitana adds, and it sounds like Mando chokes on his tongue.

“Oh.” You very deliberately do not think about that second scenario.  “What about the baby though? Won’t it be dangerous?” 

You can’t imagine leaving him on the ship alone, but bringing him with you doesn’t seem viable either. 

“I won't let anything happen to you,” Mando says quietly, and the hand he brushes over the back of your neck short circuits your brain before you can tell him you were worried for the baby, not yourself.

He turns to Aitana and looks her over appraisingly, then asks, “Would you be willing to watch the kid until tonight? I can pay you.”

“This little tadpole? I’ll watch him for free.” 

She and Mando argue briefly about payment until she eventually accepts a small handful of coins to cover the cost of their dinner.

You and Mando walk Aitana home, the baby trailing behind you in his hover crib.  She tells you a little bit more about the local Omega Club on the short walk, but it’s not enough that you really feel prepared.  All too soon you’re giving the baby a kiss and waving goodbye.

Then all that’s left to do is go back to the Crest and get ready.

—

It had sounded so simple earlier:  just get dressed up and go with Mando to the Omega Club.

“Sure. Simple,” you mutter to yourself, trying to check your appearance in the fresher’s tiny mirror.  

You make a face, feeling self-conscious in the unfamiliar clothing. The wrap dress is simple but elegant, and far nicer than anything you’ve worn in years. You mostly stuck with drab, utilitarian clothing after you'd presented as an Omega during puberty, not wanting to draw any extra attention.

The dress is lovely though.  You run your hands down your sides, enjoying the way the soft fabric settles over your hips. You adjust the neckline one last time to make sure you’re covered.  Here goes nothing.

Mando is standing by the open weapons locker, and he turns to look at you when you exit the fresher.

You freeze in the middle of compulsively smoothing the dress over your hips, as heat rises under your skin and locks the breath in your lungs.  He seems to be frozen too, and the moment stretches out until Mando finally gives himself a shake and turns back to the weapons locker.  If it’s going to be like this all night you’re not sure you’ll survive.  You’re just so aware of Mando, and you like having him look at you more than you should.  You wonder what it would be like to submit to him. 

“Good,” Mando says, and you shudder at the thought of it before you realize he’s talking about your dress.  You stare down at yourself, and run your hands over the fabric self-consciously, smoothing imaginary wrinkles and ruthlessly squashing the urge to preen for this particular Alpha’s attention.  

“Here. Put this on under the dress. Just in case,” Mando says, handing you a small bundle.  

You stare at the leather wrapped metal in your hands for a minute before you realize that he’s just handed you a mini blaster and a holster for it.  You try to straighten out the straps, but the weight of Mando’s gaze on you makes your fingers slow and clumsy.  After the second time you nearly drop the stunner, you give up, looking for a place to set it down before you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot. 

Mando must have reorganized the hold, because the crates you’d been using as seating are now lined up neatly by the rear ramp.  The only flat surface left at this end is…  Swallowing hard, you walk over to the open hatch of Mando’s bunk.

You look back at Mando seeking… something—permission, maybe?—but he’s closing up the weapon locker and doesn’t even glance in your direction.

Feeling like an intruder, you lean into the bunk just enough to set the gun down gingerly on the mattress.  Mando’s rich, earthy scent seems to permeate the small space, along with a jumble of Alpha pheromones and traces of leather polish and gun oil.  Your body responds, thighs trembling as you lift a foot and brace it on the edge of the opening.  Making sure your back is to Mando, you fold back the open edge of the wrap dress to expose your thigh.  Kriff.  This feels way too intimate, too personal, being so exposed here in Mando’s space, but it’s too late now.

You puzzle over the mess you’ve made of the holster, straps twisting every which way around the formed leather piece.  Thankfully it doesn’t take long to sort out the two straps and secure them around your leg, just above your knee.  The holster sits oddly though, and you poke at it, trying to figure out why.

“It’s too low.” Mando’s voice comes from close behind you—much too close. 

You panic, trying to spin to face him and flip your dress closed at the same time, and nearly fall on your face when your foot gets caught on the edge of his bunk.  Only his big hands gripping your upper arms save you, but that mean he’s even closer!  (Not nearly close enough, a little voice in your head insists.)

“Oh,” you breathe, trying to right yourself, too stunned by his nearness to even feel embarrassed.  Once you find your balance, he releases you, one hand sliding up to wrap around the back of your neck.  Warmth seems to radiate from his gloved hand, and a wave of heat rises up from your stomach to meet it, skin tingling in all the places he’s no longer touching you.  You feel both calmer and paradoxically more on edge the longer you stand here, and you have to take a step back before you do something stupid like stepping forward to rub up against him.

“It’s—” Mando clears his throat, then continues, “It’s also upside down.”

What’s upside down?

“Can I?”  he asks, inclining his helmet toward your leg. Oh, right. The holster!

“Uh huh,” you manage.  You part the edges of your dress far enough to provide access to the holster, then wait, stomach feeling shaky with anticipation and not entirely sure what, exactly, you just agreed to.

Mando drops to one knee in front of you, and all you can do is stare down at his helmet as his hands reach for you.  He makes contact just above your knee, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Here.”  His voice is going to be the death of you.  Low and rasping and deeper than before, it makes your stomach clench.  The fire there burning hotter as his large gloved hands make quick work of releasing the straps and flipping the holster.

“Like this,” he says, directing you to spread the edges of your dress wider.

You do as he asks, baring more of your leg to him.  Kriff, this isn’t fair!  Then his hands slide the holster high up your bare thigh, and you forget to breathe entirely.

Your entire being focuses, laser-like, on the feel of his leather covered fingers brushing across your sensitive skin as he wraps one of the straps around your thigh and buckles it.  If it were any other man—any other Alpha—touching you like this, you would have been doing your best to incapacitate them and run for the hills, but with Mando you just wish he would touch you more.

A second later, you get your wish, as Mando reaches between your legs to position the other strap. Oh, Maker.  Your whole body clenches.  Then you jump as the cold metal of his vambrace makes contact with your inner thigh.  You spread your legs a little wider to give him more room and try not to pant audibly.  This is torture.

There’s a staticky gasp over the modulator, and Mando’s hands fumble for just a moment.  Then they’re moving again, ghosting over your skin as they finish securing the second strap in place.

Shit.  You’re so turned on that you can feel how wet you are.  You close your eyes in mortification.  Don’t even want to think about what Mando must be smelling down there.

Stupid Omega hormones.  Stupid Alpha sense of smell.

Thankfully, Mando doesn’t comment, just smooths the material of your dress back into place over your thigh and stands, mercifully retreating to the far side of the hold.  You stare after him, feeling overheated and shaky, but still mostly in control of yourself, until...

“Come here,”  Mando demands gruffly, beckoning you over with two crooked fingers.  No Alpha in his voice, just a dangerously pleasant rumble that makes you shiver all over again.  “I want to see if it shows when you walk.”

You cross the hold towards Mando slowly.  It pleases you more than it should to be obeying him.  Mando stands stock still as you approach, but you know he’s watching you—watching your thighs—as you walk, and you can’t help but put a little extra swing into your hips.  Fuck.  Have you completely lost your mind?

“Looks good,” he rasps, and your body clenches.  “Time to go.”

You’re not sure you’re going to survive the night.

.

—

[  Part 2  >>  ]

[ Alternative p2 Links:  Reblog or For Desktop ]

Edited to Add: The links above work fine for me, but apparently some people are having trouble with them, but you should still be able to copy & paste one of these addresses into a web browser):

https://thirstworldproblemss.tumblr.com/post/640140098884812800/itsallaboutwhatyouwant2

https://thirstworldproblemss.tumblr.com/post/646157327064580096/fic-its-all-about-what-you-want-p2

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thirstworldproblemss/640140098884812800

Want more to read? twp’s Masterlist | twp’s Author & Fic Recs  

——

End Notes:   Part 2 is finished UP!  The whole thing is finished, but I split it because I can’t handle trying to deal with a 21k post, and so that it’s easier for people who don’t want to read the accidental drugging scene that happens in the next bit to skip it (see the end notes of part 2 for more specifics).

SW References Used:  Mando’a database, The Wookiepedia

Adorable Planet Dividers made by @whimsicalrogers

—

Tagging: (See my Tagging Lists Page to be added or removed)

@agirllovespancakes @heatherbel @keeper0fthestars @knittingqueen13 @lark-cale @pedropascalito​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @songsformonkeys​ @yespolkadotkitty

(Unsolicited tagging of people I think might be interested):  @absurdthirst​ @frannyzooey​ @fromthedeskoftheraven​)

[bispacecadet]

I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t struggle with studying - not passively absorbing information that my brain found interesting enough, which (along with having really good circumstances) is what got me the good grades I had - actively absorbing information on purpose through repetition and practice in order to understand something.

I genuinely didn’t get it, I studied with friends and did what they did, I tried everything teachers and everyone else told me to do but it was pointless, either I got it on the first try or there was no hope of me getting it. there were a few exceptions, like that time my dad sat down with me when he got home from work because I was so frustrated studying for a math exam the next day that I was crying, and he worked with me until it finally clicked around midnight, and I got the second highest grade in the exam. but by and large, studying did nothing for me, and by the time I graduated school and started at uni I stopped trying because it was a waste of time

and now, after four/five months on my meds I‘ve reached a level where studying actually works - I can look at the material, read it, do the examples and afterwards I am actually better at doing it even if I was struggling before. I can sit in lectures and by the end I know what I got and what I need to repeat. I can plan a full day of studying pull it through without getting exhausted halfway through

and it might just be too late because I’m on probation and if I can’t convince the examination board on wednesday the last five years I’ve worked on this degree program has been for nothing because I’ll never be able to study it again

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

ASOIAF House Fashion Headcanons Part 2

Here's part 2 of this post:

Riverlands/House Tully:

So first of all I think there would actually be a lot of overlap between the North, Riverlands, and Iron Islands, especially the latter two seeing as the Riverlands were historically invaded and ruled by the Islanders

So stuff like the styles of jewelry and other decorations would bear a lot of similarities, but the Riverlanders would still have their own distinct style for sure

I thought of a Celtic vibe for most Riverlanders

All shades of red, blue, green, and teal - they'd probably get the closest to purple with either deep wine reds or indigo blues

I can for some reason see children or at least younger generations wearing lighter shades of these colours though (sea green, eggshell blue, dusky pink etc.)

I even thought some kind of plaid? Or at least patterns woven into the fabrics

Knitting would also be big here, again with fancy stripes and patterns with different coloured yarns

Freshwater pearls as decoration on fancy clothing or as jewelry

And other blue stones like Lapis Lazuli (probably amber from the north too)

All kinds of cloak pins, brooches, clasps etc.

Hair would be well taken care of and an important part of appearance, lots of elaborate and delicate layers of braids, both for men and women

In general I think the three northern kingdoms would wear their hair longer and generally looser for practicality's sake - it's warmer after all

Idk I like the idea of them having some kind of decorative fringe on the edges of shawls or cloaks

Reach/House Tyrell

I see somewhere between regency era and 1930s elegance in terms of style inspirations

I feel like their fashions would look more "modern" to us, to add to the thematic significance of them being the "new" nobles in King's Landing, Margaery replacing Cersei as queen etc.

Light pastel shades of green, blue, yellow, gold, and pink, or delicate embroidery and lace over white cotton and silk

Plenty of rose imagery of course

Delicate yellow and rose gold jewelry, pearls and light coloured gemstones like peridots, aquamarine, topaz, and rose quartz

Elaborate hair updos, in warmer weather they'd want hair off their necks (but still long enough to style)

Hair jewelry, ribbons, and netting, and flowers as hair decoration

A lot of clothing would have short sleeves, sometimes sleeveless altogether

Though I can see intricately embroidered silk shawls being used for evenings and cooler days

Victorian-esque fan etiquette would have a place here I feel

Stormlands/House Baratheon

Tudor/late Elizabethan inspired; structured and heavily layered

Brocade fabrics in rich, dark colours; dark gold, burgundy, black, navy blue, dark copper brown

Lots of leather and hides worked in, emphasis on hunting

Furs

Heavy, blocky jewelry - I'm thinking copper and bronze with stones like garnets, jasper, and carnelian

Wide silhouettes and broad shoulders, long surcoats for men and sometimes women

Wide leather belts

A variety of hats and headdresses/headpieces

A general impression both strength and impressiveness given through clothing

Vale/House Arryn

They're an old and traditional house, so their fashion wouldn't have changed much over the years

Emphasis on the past, each noble house has its own heirloom jewelry (and I'd assume even some of the smallfolk would have something of that nature even if it's just a single brooch or ring that's been passed down)

I want to say 12th century Medieval is my inspiration, lots of drapey layered gowns and such

Hair nets and veils, lots of hair decoration and dramatic hair fashions

Mostly shades of blue, green, cream, and grey and white, and expensive fabrics like velvet, silk, delicate lace, and satin

Furs too! They're up in the mountains and even though it's not that far north it would get pretty cold especially in the Eyrie, but instead of heavier furs like in the north you'd have more delicate, sleek pelts of rabbit and ermine and even some kind of snow leopard

Lots of blue and white precious stones like moonstone, agate, sapphire, and opal, they're not close to the ocean but they'd be able to afford pearls which fits nicely into their aesthetic too

Possible feather decoration in some form, half capes, drapery, or other accents made from feathers sewn onto cloth (not unlike Sansa's 'raven dress' on the show), or at the very least feather designs embroidered onto clothing

White gold and silver

Gloves

I have no idea where this comes from, but I really really want them to have some kind of subtle face paint designs - not like the Islanders' style war paint but almost a high fashion-y imitation of it. Idk I feel there's a "removed" quality to the Arryns/ Vale inhabitants and even though they're involved in Westeros' conflicts, they'd want to appear "above it all" (maybe I just feel this way because of the mountain thing *shrugs*) and thus take something that seems like it should be for battle and turn it into a fashion statement ?? idk

Sort of like Lady M's subtle blue face paint stripe in the 2015 version of Macbeth - this is exactly the vibe I'm thinking

Dorne/House Martell

I'm thinking ancient India as a vague inspiration (possibly Mughal Empire?)

The book mentions this and I like it so I'm gonna roll with it; mostly warm shades of red, gold, pink, orange and yellow - offset with bright blue-greens

Though it seems contradictory, I feel like those in the mountains and the desert would tend to wear more blue, green, or teal to offset their warm-toned environment, while the coast dwellers would dress in more warm colours

Printed/stamped on patterns, but also lots of rich embroidery and bead decoration

Light, fine silks, linens, and cottons

I like the idea of armor-like jewelry; arm cuffs, anklets, torcs, decorative breastplates

Gold and copper jewelry, stones such as turquoise, opals, tiger's eye, topaz

Near the sea I can see coral being worn as jewelry too

Or glass? I like the idea of them having painted glass bracelets and pendants

Like the Iron Islands, I thought tattoos and piercings would both make an appearance (though in a very different style and with more of an emphasis on decoration rather than intimidation)

I think in such a warm climate it wouldn't be uncommon to see women with shorter hair, way more so than in the rest of Westeros

[then-be-a-warrior]

ATTENTION! ATTENTION!

ANIMATION LOVERS!

So. Let's talk about

FINAL SPACE

Specifically, let's talk about Final Space season 4!

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Synopsis: Final Space is an epic animated sci-fi comedy about a spaceman named Gary who is working off a prison sentence and makes a mysterious new alien friend, Mooncake, that he immediately bonds with.

While it sounds happy and light-hearted, you won't think that way halfway through season 1.

Final Space is in danger of not getting a season 4. Not a lot of people have been watching as of late. So why should you care?

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Found Family

Final Space has one of the most glaring examples of found family I've seen in a while other than Steven Universe of course. We go from one man in solitary confinement to him having, quite literally, a family that he would die for (barely any are related by blood).

The Animation/Art

The animation in this show is incredible. Actually incredible. You can tell that a lot of time, effort, and money was put into everything.

The Main Character/Theme

Gary Goodspeed is the main character. As I said earlier, we meet him while he is spending time in solitary confinement. I won't say why but he was sentenced for 5 years in a space station with only robots to keep him company.

His time alone made him one of the most caring, selfless, and bravest individuals. It's also why he gains new friends (family) quickly. Not to mention he didn't have the best upbringing so I guarantee he will be your favorite character.

The theme of the show is simple: Loneliness. Many characters are unwillingly forced into situations where they have no one to rely on but themselves. How does being alone change a person? How will they act when their actions drive everyone away? How will they act when they meet the person who made them alone in the first place?

It Gets Darker After Season 1

And I mean darker. Season 1 is mainly just the introduction. Meeting characters and establishing relationships. The first season was mainly focused on comedy but you will cry on the 6th episode. You have been warned.

While there is a villain in season one, the main villain gets really introduced in the second season. And it's not some corny, comic-relief, easily-defeated bad guy. They're brutal. There's no rhyme or reason for the chaos. That's all I'm gonna say.

Olan Rogers

Olan Rogers is the creator of Final Space. He also voices the main character, Gary Goodspeed. He's a really sweet guy and he actually interacts with people who watch the show. He incorporates his own experiences into the theme and he's also working on getting LGBTQ+ rep into the show! He's new to this and he's doing a fantastic job so I just really hope he knows how much we love this show and him.

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I'll be honest here: I'll will literally be devastated if this show gets cancelled. Too many shows are being cancelled (animated AND live-action) and I just need it to stop. I need shows to distract me from real life and they're taking it away.

So I'm fighting. I'm fighting for the chance to escape reality. This isn't the first show I'm advocating for and it damn sure won't be the last.

I'm tagging a lot of fandoms.

P.S. For those who watch The Owl House, the season 3 finale of Final Space airs the same day as The Owl House season 2 premiere (June 12th). It would mean the world to me if you all could show some love for Final Space.

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Some other shows I'm fighting for:

Prodigal Son (Live action)

Glitch Techs (Animated)

[everythingthemoontouches]

💙Hi there! , First of all i want to tell you that i love your blog! And i love how your posts are so accurate!💙 If its okay with you could you please do me a favor by describing how others see me,my appearance or more specifically the vibe I radiate to others! It would mean alot to me if you you do that💙I'm a cancer sun,leo rising,Lilith sextile asc, Pluto trine asc, Uranus opposition asc, Moon opposition asc, mars sextile venus, mars opposition neptune, asteroid lilith conjunct mc and jupiter in the 1st house!💙

Hola!

Thank you that's really kind of you 💛💕

You know that quote that says Cinderella never asked for a prince. All she wanted was a night out and a dress. You kind of exude a similar vibe but with respect to leadership positions. 'I never asked to be Queen/King, but the people have spoken' kind of an energy. You would be equally happy to be by yourself, learning about the subconscious mind, higher realms and other esoteric science.

For more on Jupiter in LEO I'd recommend watching Astrofinesse.

For jupiter in the first there's KRS.

🌻As a Leo rising you come across as someone outgoing, with a playful energy but you're also somehow someone people would expect to see in a position of authority. You're drawn to people who stimulate you intellectually and love to exchange ideas.

😬If you have an Aquarius saturn you could be having some challenges in your relationships since December 2020 as saturn transits your 7th house. I'd suggest practicing discernment in this area as well as signing contracts with people until it passes( early 2023) ..

😇12th house sun could take on other people's energy. I feel like you need some time away, by yourself, preferably at the beach / pool/ shower to declutter, clear your head and replenish your sense of Self. You could be highly intuitive. If this resonates, I'd urge you to look up empath drain and how to protect yourself from energy vampires.

Ruler of the ascendant in the 12th :

spirituality could be a huge part of your life. For some people this could show a father (figure) who was convicted or worked in a prison / asylum. They could also have a really remote job. Since the sun is also your own personal identity, you could profit off these themes. Working in a mental health facility, overseas, in esoteric crafts.

🌛With your moon in the 7th house, you probably attract a lot of older women, (queen of swords) nurturing energies . Your mom could have a major influence on any business partnerships that you enter.

In relationships you could have a here today gone tomorrow kind of a presence. This is because as the moon waxes and wanes so does your attraction / attachment to specific people?

♒Aquarius moon : it could be really hard for you to express your feelings. So Instead of asking for a hug there could be a tendency to say something like ' ew imagine asking for one?' you leave a place better than you found it. If you watch hindi movies, 3 Idiots could be a movie you really resonate with. ( I pretty much spent the day looking up the lead actor, who has major aquarius placements and his films have always been disruptive with a really nice social message that left people talking for years after they were released. I tell you this because he shares 2 of your big 3 - aquarius and cancer.)

Going off on this tangent you could be a well respected teacher / writer / entertainer. Jupiter in LEO could help with this.

I do feel like you need a certain amount of inventiveness in your relationships. The people you're with are people who introduce you to new hobbies / ideas / technologies. You need to feel like you guys learn something new or create something that matters together. This is enhanced by uranus in the 7th house. You could come across really cold because you always give people the naked honest truth when asked. You do this from a place of love. I'm reminded of the Queen of Swords card in the rider Waite tarot. Not everyone has the maturity to take it. Or maybe they've just had a bad day. It is what it is. Perhaps try to not be so incisive if this is something you struggle with.

In the same vein, if I asked you to write down how you were feeling how long would it take for you to identify the right emotion. How honest are you with yourself?

Moon and Uranus being in the same house could show that stagnation could really hurt your mental health / happiness / satisfaction levels.

With a saturn ruled moon I feel like I need to remind you to not be so hard on yourself. Like. The world won't crumble to dust if you allow yourself to take care of you once in a while.there's only so much you can do.

All those coffee mugs will catch up. There's no such thing as extra hours in the day. A lack of sleep manifests as early signs of aging. No hate for the elderly but arthritis is not a fun ailment to have. Do you wanna be 60 with 80 year old nervous system problems? I rest my case.

Uranus and moon aspect your ascendant so you could have a slightly plump look?

Jupiter in the first house people usually have prominent thighs. I had a friend with this placement and when we were growing up she used to complain of chafed thighs a lot?

Mars sextile venus you could be your own type? The way you act and the way you want your future partners to express love could be quite similar which is good for healthy relationships.

There could be a tendency to spend impulsively.

With Mars sextiling venus you could be someone who earns more the more active their lifestyle is? Like, you may need to be an agile learner to keep money flowing in .

Jupiter in LEO in a woman's chart usually shows they'd have a financially well off spouse so money may not be a huge concern. He could be a sailor or earn via exports/ navy. It's hard to say without knowing where your Saturn is.

The image you project to the world could be a lot more outgoing than how you actually feel. You're more private than people think.

With a fire rising, water sun and air moon you could either be a really balanced person or just have a number of clashing ideas on who to be, what to do and achieve.

Descendant : The people that hate on you could attack your need to stand out /try to dim your time in the spotlight. Think aquarius themes of standing out to improve community clashing with Leo's need to stand out solely because it helps their ego. Like your confidence could trigger the part if them that felt judged negatively for expressing their individuality.

Do you feel like you thrive in chaos? I'm guessing you're atleast in your late 20s if not older, so you might have gotten better at dealing with people acting unexpectedly. Your mom could have been unpredictable. Really intelligent, but forgets to eat ..

🥤🦀As a cancer sun, you could be the friend your friends come to for advice. There could be a tendency to be a little too selfless. I think your aqua moon really serves as a shield to those who try to take advantage of your caring nature. Have you considered a career in psychic medium ship? Or any spiritual art/ past life regression / you get the drift..

Is there a family craft or hobby that you could monetize? Jupiter in LEO could signify ancestral gains.

Lilith and Pluto aspects to ascendant can make you come across really sexy / a bit unapproachable because people feel like you have some kind of power that places you above them?

Due to this, people with Pluto / Lilith aspects can feel some kind of hurt around people clearing up the path around them if that makes sense.

Jupiter opposite moon : there could be a clash between you want to do VS what you feel you should be doing.

Jupiter in the first house : you could have been born rich? Or people just perceive you that way. They also see you as someone wordly wise and lucky in general. You could know a lot about a wide variety of things. Specially on topics related to appearance, personal development, image consciousness etc. Since the ruler of the first is in the 12th I feel like some of your wisdom comes from a divine source. Like you're tapping into some kind of a collective reservoir of knowledge. In starseed terminology we would refer to this as downloads.

Jupiter rules the 8th house and 5th house.

So love, romance, games, early education may have been a bit of a breeze for you.

Jupiter is usually a bit of a celibate spiritual person. So, while it may make you really wise with respect to things like the occult / tarot / other 8th house themes, I'm not sure how it would impact your sex life with a spouse. Sex could be either a deeply spiritual experience for you or take on more neptunian traits. Addiction / alcoholism / drug use the works. Jupiter expands the themes of the house it rules so a word of caution there.

Travelling could bring you luck. Or even love.

Did I hear Mars opposite Neptune?

This could be a literal battlefield. You could feel like you need to work for love.if Neptune is unconditional love and Mars is your drive, then you could literally match to get to taht elusive unconditional sense of belonging /love / acceptance. But what are you marching towards really? A mirage? With this aspect I'd really be on the guard against addiction of any kind. Neptune is enticing, alluring, mocking Mars for its need to conquer. It could lend a really nice swagger to your walk. A runway model could benefit from thus placement. At uts best this aspect imbues you with creativity, inspiration, otherworldly imagination and the energy required to turn your abstract ideas of art into something tangible.

Here's a source for more on this placement. Sometimes I find that the comments really help me make sense of my own placements

Toodles

Before I sign off, I just have to say this :please try to restrict asks to 2-3 placements. You can send in multiple asks if you'd like, but answering them all in one ask can get a bit cluttered and I'd hate to miss out on something 😊

Hope this helped 💕as always, I'd really appreciate your feedback on this take on how these placements affect you.