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hotchscoffeecup · 4 months ago

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don’t punch beskar, you’ll break your hand

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags: Hand to hand fighting, Injury, Burns, Blindfolds, Penetrative Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mando Takes Off His Helmet

Summary: You’re the Marshall of your small remote town. When you’re injured in a fight with pirates, Mando tends to your injuries. Time spent together in close quarters leads to even closer relations and when Mando suddenly disappears, you can’t help but feel used. (Happy Ending)

A/N: I wrote this back in Summer of May 2023 and am working on bringing my works over to Tumblr from AO3. I’m not super well versed in Star Wars lore outside of Mandalorian, so some details seems a little vague or inaccurate, that’s probably why! Hope you enjoy!

You nod your thanks as the bartender replaces your empty drink with a full one, flipping a few credits toward him from the dwindling tower you’d stacked in front of you earlier. A tentacle shoots out from the barkeep’s octopus-like face and snaps them out of the air. He grunts his assent and disappears into the back room.

You sip the bitter alcohol and revel in the burn as it slides down your throat to settle in your stomach and fuel the delightful buzz trilling through your body. It’s not enough to disorient you, but enough to ease the dull ache in your temples as you pour over the journal you’ve logged each and every one of your arrests in since the day you became Marshall of this godforsaken town. It’s not what you wanted to do with your life, but what else was there to do in the wake of pirates setting up shop on the outskirts of your city. There was no one in charge, never had been, and no one willing to take up the mantle. They were lost, leaderless.

And now here you are, feeling more lost than you ever had before.

You shake off the thought and return to your logs, tracking crime rates and making note of the areas with increasing levels of violence, piracy, and spice usage. Every time you thought you’d rid an area of criminal activity, it seemed as if double the illicit operations popped up in their place. So was the cost of being an independent planet. It made it all the more appealing to set up shop where there was no threat of the Republic stopping you. In a more developed part of the planet, they would’ve had the means to install better infrastructure or hire more of a guard to dissuade this sort of thing. Not here though. Not on your small blip on the map.

Crime rates had increased hard and fast, with pirates demanding protection payment from the shops and people that lived there. They were armed to teeth and operating a small black market, selling and trading spice and weapons to any and all willing to buy. And every day the market grew, attracting more criminals and making it that much harder to corral the growing threat.

You just didn’t have the manpower to take them on, so all you could do was sit and watch as they overtook the city, your city. It may be a godforsaken town, but it was yours damnit and you would die to protect it.

It had been nice once, beautiful even. The buildings sleek and well lit, laughter pouring out of open doors into the street as people and aliens alike drank, ate, and celebrated a life not run by any government or order.

The peace was short lived as pirates moved in, taking advantage of the wayward town often missed on maps by travelers and government officials alike. They were a town off grid, perfect for a crime syndicate to set up shop in. By the time you’d discerned the severity of what was happening, it was too late and it wasn’t long before they’d overtaken the city and turned it into an industrial hellhole; scrap yards piling higher than buildings destroying the views of what were once lush forests, now mines. Pirate lackies stood guard atop high metal walls that overlooked the town, ready to gun down anyone that might step too close until one day they attempted to lay the town bare; collateral damage in pursuit of establishing a central hub so they could expand their operation and make the entire city some sort of a base; the people living within the walls of the city be damned in pursuit of their own twisted little empire.

They’d have been successful if he hadn’t arrived, the Mandalorian. You’d heard rumors of one traveling the galaxy with a small green creature in tow, though the nature of the creature varied widely. When he’d arrived, there was no creature, and you didn’t feel as though it was your place to ask about it. He’d then helped without even having to be asked. No bargains. No payment. He just wanted to help.

Together, you devised a plan, and with a few of his allies in tow, you destroyed the base from the inside out; something you still can’t believe you’d managed to accomplish with so few individuals. But for the Mandalorian, he himself might as well have been the equivalent to an entire fleet of troopers and his allies the same.

You’d suffered some major burns to the right side of your body in the explosion that leveled the base, but it had been worth it to see that pirate filth laid to waste. Everything had still gone according to plan.

In the weeks that followed, the Mandalorian had tended to your injuries and saw to the restoration of the city. Your memory was hazy after the explosion, but you remembered the pain of it all; the gnawing, biting pain that cut down to your bones as he cradled you into his arms and jettisoned you back to the Razor Crest. Your vision had been hazy. blurred by the severity of the injuries and the toll they’d taken on your body. You’d barely clung to consciousness as the Mandalorian worked on the burns, the debrieding sprays and burn gels doing their job, but feeling as though your skin had caught light once more. Strained “I’m sorry’s” and “I know it hurts” had echoed through the Mandalorian’s modulator until you’d finally passed out from the pain.

It was three days until you’d opened your eyes again. And when you did, you were still in and out of consciousness, unable to keep them open for more than a few seconds at a time.

Once though, when you could manage the strength to blink through the haze, you could have sworn you’d caught a glimpse of dark hair and tan skin passing through the corridor. Your vision had been hazy with sleep and the lights dimmed. You still don’t know if that had been a dream.

On day eight you’d regained full consciousness, You awoke to find bandages soaked in some stinking salve coating the right side of your chest and shoulder, winding across your torso and down your arms. A loose sheet covered the rest of your exposed body, though someone had put a pair of loose linen trousers on you. You attempted to clench your right fist and hissed as the charred skin beneath the bandages immediately protested the movement.

You attempted to sit up and very quickly realized that was an equally stupid thing to try to do.

“Woah, stop!” instructed a modulated voice.

Your eyes flicked up toward the door, where the Mandalorian rushed in. “Take it easy,” he said, calmer this time. “Your body has been through a lot.”

“How long has it been?” You asked, disregarding the concern in his voice.

“Listen, you need to stay down and—“

“How long has it been?”

A mumbled curse hissed through the modulator before he spoke up. “Eight days.”

Your eyes flew open, “Eight?” You cried. Using your left hand to hold the sheet over your exposed chest, you forced yourself into a sitting position despite the stiff flesh under the bandages begging you to stop. “That’s unacceptable. I need to leave. I have to help my people. I need—“

“To heal,” the Mandalorian stated, a command. He took the two pillows that you’d disregarded and propped them up against the metal wall at the back of the cot and gently lowered you back onto them. “My people are on it. The black market has been eradicated. Things are being rebuilt as we speak.”

“I,” you started, but weren’t sure what to say. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing all of this? You have no allegiance to us.”

“My allegiance is to doing the right thing.”

“I don’t often find people care about what’s right or wrong,” you said bitterly, “just what will serve their own selfish agenda.” Your eyes found what you were imaging to be his behind the black T of his helmet.

He tilted his head, regarding you. After two minutes of insufferable silence, his Beskar rattled as he bent at the knees to sit on a flipped over crate near the bedside. You’d not even noticed it before he sat down. Had he sat there before during these last eight days? Watching you?

“Listen,” he began. “I’ve learned a thing or two about being selfish and constantly seeking that which would reap the greatest reward. Recently, I’ve found there are things far, far greater than just going through the motions of what you’ve been told is right and what is wrong because someone says so. I want to see the things that I do in this world actually make a difference, not just for me, but for everyone; and to do that I have to do it on my own terms. So, when I tell you I’m just trying to help,” he sighed through the modulator and leaned back against the wall, his armor clanging against it with a dull thud, “I mean it.”

His words sounded genuine enough, but you weren’t altogether sold. Though, he didn’t have to agree to help take down the pirates nor take you in. He could’ve dumped you at the local med bay and been off planet doing gods know what by now, but he stayed. Not only did he stay for you, but for your people.

“Why did you help me?” The words left your mouth before you could think them through.

His answer came fast. “You’re alone here.” He stood and reached for an overhead shelf where he withdrew a med pack. He knelt at your side and released the locks, the pack snapping open with a satisfactory click.

You watched his leather clad fingers withdraw equipment and arrange them neatly along the edge of the bed.

He snapped the med pack shut and turned his masked face in your direction. “I know what it’s like to be in pain alone, to suffer alone. I did not want that for you.”

“Begging your pardon, Mando, but why would you care what I want?”

Your eyes flickered back and forth in the dim light, searching for him behind the mask. You wished you could read his expression.

He picked up a pair of scissors, though his gloved fingers quickly posed a problem as their thick padding didn’t allow him to hold them properly.

“This was a lot easier when you were knocked out,” he muttered through the modulator. He cursed and dropped the scissors, snapping his hand free from the glove. “And my name’s not Mando,” he added, now able to comfortably pick up the scissors with his long pointer finger and thumb. “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

You're surprised when your breath catches in your throat; not at how he’d revealed his name, but that he’d revealed any amount of skin to you; deep tan skin pebbled with scars and calluses.

“Are you allowed to do that?” You asked, voice incredulous.

The scissors slid under the bandages, stinging the burnt skin as they gently glided across. You hissed and he apologized, making sure to lift them higher as he cut away the bandages.

After a long moment, he answered. “I don’t know.” He snapped out of the other glove and made deft work of the bandages, apologizing as they stuck to your mottled flesh. “I don’t know a lot of things anymore.” This he’d spoken more so to himself.

Once the sullied bandages had been pulled away and discarded, you glanced down at your flesh, and sucked a sharp breary in through your teeth at the sight of it. No wonder you’d been out cold for over a week. The entire right side of your upper body was unrecognizable to you the way that the flames had licked and curled around your limbs. Tears stung at your eyes and you forced yourself to look away

“I know it looks bad now,” he said calmly, placing a comforting hand over your uninjured one. You're surprised by how soft it is despite its rough appearance. The gesture placated you and you find your body relaxing. “Over time it will fade and eventually look like nothing happened at all. Trust me.”

“Do what you have to do then,” you consented, knowing the treatment was probably less than pleasant.

He squeezed your hand and when he withdrew it you found yourself longing for its warmth. You brushed the thought aside as quickly as it came and braced yourself for pain as Din coated your wounds in a numbing spray; the effects of which caused your eyes to well with tears.

Flesh numbed, he spent the next hour debriding the wounds of dead flesh and applying a gel that encouraged skin cell regeneration. He then applied bandages that were soaked in a stronger version of the gel in thick layers against and around the burns.

By the time he finished you were barely able to keep your eyes open. This was the longest you’d been awake since the date of the explosion and the treatment had exhausted what little energy you had to give.

“You should sleep,” he recommended as he pulled his gloves back on, and a part of you is sad to see his hands hidden away once more. “When you next wake, we’ll try to get some solid food and water in you.”

He pulled the sheet up higher over your body, his gloved fingers lingering against your neck. Your eyes trailed up the length of his arm before reaching what you were sure to be his gaze behind the mask. He held your stare, only for a moment before he quickly withdrew his hand and stepped away toward the door.

“Get some rest.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. And as he stepped through the door you added, “Din.”

Your eyes fell shut, but not before you noticed how he paused in his tracks to take one last look at you over his shoulder before continuing on his way.

•

“Dank farrick!” Din cursed and threw his hand of cards down on your dining room table as you laughed and pulled in the ever growing pile of credits toward yourself, now easier with the improvement in mobility in your arm over the last few weeks as the burns continued to heal thanks to the Mandalorian.

“Come on, Mando!” You laughed, still not completely comfortable using his given name freely. “You wanna make it triple or nothing?”

He pointed a gloved finger directly at your face, “No.”

“Oh come on,” you begged. “I didn’t peg the Mandlorians as sore losers.”

“We should turn in,” he said, gathering the cards together. “I’ve got a run scheduled with Greef Carga and I’d like to take off before sunrise.” Greef Carga had been one of the Mandalorian’s allies who had helped them level the base. What weapons and spice caches hadn’t been destroyed, Mando had been delivering to Carga’s city where they had the proper means of destroying it. His was a city far more well equipped than yours.

“It should take two trips, right?” you asked, already concerned with the amount loaded onto the Razor Crest. If word had gotten out about the market’s destruction here, roving sects of the cartel or other pirates could be out for blood; especially if they knew the Mandalorian had been responsible. If they caught the Razor Crest with that many illegal arms and substances loaded inside of it, they would do their damndest to get it back.

He nodded. “I should be back by nightfall.”

He gathered all the cards together into a neat pile and held them out for you to take. As your fingers slid over them, the leather of his gloves glided over your skin eliciting goosebumps across your flesh that you wished you could hide better from him.

He dropped his hand. “I should get back to the ship.”

He turned to leave and before you could process what you were doing, you lunged forward and wrapped your fingers around his wrist.

“Or you could stay.”

A long breath escaped the modulator as your name fell from his lips, and you immediately wanted to kick yourself for acting this way. Did you sound as needy as you felt? Weeks now, you’d spent in such close quarters with Mando, working side by side to draw up plans to rebuild the city and renew that which has been lost alongside the very close contact shared with him with the daily burn treatments. With each passing day, you’d found yourself watching the curve of his hips as he sauntered around so confidently with each step; the way his muscles flexed beneath his armor as he hammered reinforced steel into the damaged buildings around town.

Beyond the physical, his gentle demeanor behind the rough and tumble exterior pulled you in with its own gravitational force. Each day, he’d opened up a little more to you, sharing more and more about his life as a bounty hunter and his journey with the Child. You laughed harder than you had in years over the ways in which he recounted the mischievous and naughty behavior of the little green guy. And though you couldn’t see his face, even through the modulator, you could hear the longing in his voice for the Child. Despite having done the right thing in reuniting him with his own kind, you knew that that had torn away a piece of Din’s heart, even if he didn’t say it out right.

“Don’t read too deeply into it,” you chastised before the silence could become even more deafening in the moments since he’d whispered your name. “I’ve got a spare bedroom. You don’t need to sleep cramped up on that cot in the Razor Crest. Gods knows it’s not comfortable.”

He chuckled in response. “Sorry if it didn’t meet your standards, princess. I think it served you just fine, did it not?”

You waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m still working the kinks out of my back from that whole experience. Come on,” you said and inclined your chin down the hall. “Stay, Get a good night’s rest, With the way you’ll be traveling tomorrow, you’ll need it.”

Ultimately, he relented and followed you down the hall.

“My room is the last door on the right at the opposite end of the hallway if you need anything. Fresher is the door on the left. Goodnight, Mando.”

“Din,” he reminded you.

You turn toward your room and walk down the hall, calling over your shoulder. “Goodnight Din.”

•

There was no sleep to be found tonight. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you wondered what Din was doing just down the short length of hallway from you.

Was he asleep? Behind the safety of a locked bedroom door, did he remove his helmet and armor and actually let himself rest his body? Or did he still sleep in the same armored, crunched up position, arms folded over chest, masked chin tucked in on itself?

Your eyes burned from lack of sleep and you cursed yourself for letting these thoughts drive you mad. Using your good arm to push yourself into a sitting position, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and pulled a satin robe over your shoulders. Tying it loosely around your waist, you silently opened the door and padded across the stone floor to the kitchen intent on making tea. Maybe after a hot cup, sleep would finally find you. You filled the kettle at the small durasteel sink and before you placed it on the stove, the sound of a faucet turning off set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“Mando?” you whisper shouted.

No response.

You took a few steps toward the fresher door and tried again. The floor to ceiling metal doors in your home betrayed no light to escape so there was no way of telling if he was in there.

You hesitantly reached forward to press the button to open the door. You tried one more time. “Din?”

No answer. You cursed yourself for being so stupid. He was probably fast asleep and here you were, shouting at your empty fresher in the middle of the night. For peace of mind, you decide to slap the open button before returning to finish making your tea.

You immediately regretted your decision to do so as the door cracked open and a shaft of light filled the hall.

Your eyes fell to the floor, landing on a pair of tan, bare feet. Feet that move faster than lighting as a pair of strong arms wheeled you around and pressed your face into the wall.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was dark and you felt as though you had no choice but to oblige.

“I’m sorry,” your chest heaved, though constricted against the wall slick with steam from the shower. “I’m sorry, Din. I didn’t see your face. I didn’t—“

His grip relaxed suddenly, his touch becoming gentle; more responsive and less reactive. The rough palms of his hands flattened against where he grabbed you and rubbed the skin beneath, easing the sting of his tight grip from moments earlier. “No,” he breathed and for the first time you felt his breath against your skin. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react like that, you just—I thought you were asleep.”

“I couldn’t,” you stated.

A few moments of silence and then he answered, “Neither could I.”

His hands slowly slid down the length of your arms, the one on your right much softer than the left, minding the still healing burns. You couldn’t help your body’s natural response to arch into his touch.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” you asked, breath bated already.

You felt his presence draw nearer to your ear before the air reverberated around the sound of his voice. “I couldn’t stop thinking of what you might be wearing to bed”

His hands slipped off of your elbows and onto your waist. He stepped forward so that his body was flush against you and a small gasp escaped your lips as you felt his erection pressed up against the curve of your ass through the towel around his waist. He reached one arm around you and easily pulled the tie securing the robe around your waist loose, exposing your naked body. He tugged at one end until he’d pulled it free from its loops.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the satin material covered your eyes and he secured a knot tightly, but not uncomfortably, behind your head.

“There,” he said softly, turning you around and holding your face in his wide hands.

Hesitantly, you raised your hands to wrap around both of his wrists, leaning into his touch.

After a moment you reached out in front of you, hand landing on his chest. He was soft beneath your fingertips; muscular, but soft.

He dropped his hands from either side of your face as your other hand found his chest and you began to slowly explore the planes of his body.

Your heartbeat hammered in your chest as your hands traveled up the length of his torso, to the wide V of his shoulders. He was tense beneath your touch and you hesitantly withdrew your fingers to hover above his skin. “I can stop,” you said gently.

His hands wrapped around yours, placing them back on his chest. “No,” he said. “It’s ok. I want you to touch me.” As your hands found his neck, you cautiously continued to his jawline, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your fingers splayed against the sharp lines there.

Your thumb brushed lightly against his lips and he shuddered beneath your touch. You’re shocked to find he’s got facial hair lining the top of his lip and a gentle laugh tumbled out of your lips.

And as your fingers came to hold his face in your hands, you drew him down to you so that his forehead was touching yours.

“Mando,” you breathed.

“Call me by my name,” he said, his words gentle, yet firm.

You didn’t hesitate. “Din.”

His lips rained down on yours with an energy so blindingly hot that stars dotted the corners of your limited vision.

You parted your lips to grant him greater access to your mouth and his tongue slid over yours as his hands fisted into your hair.

Your arm snaked around his neck and when his hands cupped your ass beneath the satin of your robe, you pushed off your feet to jump and latch your legs around his waist.

He bore your weight easily, as if you weighed no more than an infant, and pushed you back into the wall. You hissed into his mouth as pain stung your shoulder blades but your whole body was a live wire at the moment and you didn’t care.

He started to walk, carrying you still, as your lips crashed together over and over; devouring one another as if this was the only taste you might ever get.

The hiss of a metal door opening sent a blast of cool air over the two of you, causing your taut nipples to harden even more against the skin of his chest.

He lowered you onto the mattress and the springs creaked under your combined weight. As he crawled over you and straddled your waist, you could feel his erection firm against your thigh.

Blindly, you reached for it with your good arm and as your fingers barely skim the smooth skin of his cock, your hand is pinned above your hand.

“Not yet,” he growled into your ear and your middle turned to liquid.

He released your hand and began trailing his over your body; the tips of his fingers tracing the outline of your calves, then your hips, your stomach, until he’s got both of your nipples pinched between his fingertips.

A cry slipped past your lips as he rolled the peaks of your breasts between his fingers. When he took one into his mouth and began to tease you, flicking the sensitive skin with his tongue and toying at it with his teeth, you bucked your hips up into his erection.

You could feel the slickness between your thighs spreading with each kiss and pass over your body, though you craved more of him. Your pussy throbbed with a need to be touched by him, filled by him.

“Din,” you whimpered. “Please.” And you swore you heard him chuckle deeply in his throat.

He took his hands and placed them on the insides of your knees. Slowly, he pushed them apart and you knew he was gazing into your core.

“Fuck,” he groaned and murmured your name. Your thighs quivered as his fingers slowly dragged up your thighs. Using his thumb, he ran it up the slick length of your folds, pausing at your clit to rub painfully slow circles and you squirmed beneath his touch. “So wet,” he murmured, “so wet for me.”

He adjusted the position of his thumb so that he could continue his torturously slow massage. His name tumbled from your lips as he, at an equally slow pace, thrust his pointer and middle fingers into your center; in and out, in and out, toying with the spongey soft cleft within you that caused your belly to clench in response.

You writhed beneath his touch, needing more, begging for more.

“Are you ready for me?” he purred, and you nodded vigorously.

“You feel ready,” he said, and you could sense the smile on his lips. He dragged his fingers, slick with you, up the length of your folds once more before pulling them away completely and touching them to your lips. He traced the outline of your mouth before gently pushing them in between your lips, “Taste how ready you are for me.”

You sucked and swiveled your tongue around the length of his two long fingers, tasting the tang of yourself on them and wanting more.

He withdrew his fingers and cupped your chin in his large hand, “Good girl.”

You bucked and cried out as he thrust his fingers back into you; once, two more times, and on the third, withdrew his fingers and slammed into you with his cock.

You cried out from the shock and pleasure of it all, gasping for air as his width stretched and filled you. He’d hit hard and fast only to slow down to a torturous rhythm. He slipped a hand under your right leg and lifted it onto his shoulder, holding you there as an anchor point as he continued to plunge himself in and out of you. His name spilled from your lips as with this new leverage, his cock struck your g-spot with every thrust.

“Yes,” his voice was low in his throat. “Say my name, darling. Say my name.”

He increased his speed and returned his thumb to your throbbing clit where he teased circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves there in a tortuously sweet rhythm with the speed of his thrusts.

Stars dotted your limited vision. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you tried to meet him thrust for thrust, but you lost track of the rhythm as you felt everything inside your lower abdomen start to collapse in on itself until the pleasure was blinding and you exploded around him.

He continued to thrust into you as your orgasm drove through your body in waves. After a few more thrusts his own release spilled out into you and he cried out your name; collapsing on top of you and wrapping his arms around your body, both of you slick with sweat and panting.

You stayed there for a minute, joined together physically, chests heaving against one another.

You both groaned as he slid out of you. Slowly, he maneuvered your arms out of the satin robe that you’d both forgotten about. Gently, he used it to clean you up, before discarding it onto the ground where it fell with a soft whoosh of fabric.

He then collapsed onto the bed next to you and minding the burns to your right side, pulled you nearer to him.

He kissed you softly on the lips and then your temple before stretching an arm behind his head.

Your head rested upon his chest and you could feel his heart beating steadily beneath his skin, the dull thump-thump enough of a rhythm to sing you to sleep, but you didn’t want to. Not now. Not after everything with him had just changed.

His hand lazily dragged through your hair, smoothing it back over your shoulders.

“Sleep,” he murmured against your ear. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The Mandalorian was nowhere to be found come dawn; he’d disappeared without a trace and you were left behind feeling like an absolute idiot for ever having opened yourself up to him.

In the weeks that followed, stray pirates that had barely escaped with their lives began to trickle back in when they’d learned the Mandalorian had disappeared and rumors of the spice and weapons supply you’d still had confiscated reached those still alive and hoping to rebuild the black market.

You’d been able to hold them back, killing them in a shootout in front of your offices.

There was nowhere to safely hide or destroy the spice or weapons. Burying it wouldn’t destroy them, so those hoping to retrieve it could still attain it. Burning them would release a smoke so toxic, it would kill anyone within five clicks of the pyre with the amount they had in tow.

So, there was no choice but to stand and fight. Stand and fight until your deputy was dead and you’d suffered a blast to the shoulder.

With no one left to defend the supply, they’d moved in quickly, raiding your office and burning it down in the aftermath as a warning to leave the market alone. You still don’t know why they didn’t kill you.

Weeks turned to months and they were right back where they’d started; black market and all successfully up and running as your people suffered for it. Heads turned away as you passed through town. You’d let your people down.

And that was why you sat in a bar, alone at two in the morning, going over crime logs and wondering how things had fallen apart so quickly.

So, when that distinct tinkle of metal armor echoed in your ears, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

You froze, heart hammering in your chest so hard you swore it would shatter your rib cage. As each heavy, booted footfall drew nearer, your fingers inched toward the blaster holstered at your side.

When you were confident he’d drawn near enough, you leapt from your seat, kicking it out and whirling around as it knocked his legs out from under him.

The Mandalorian hit the floor with a loud metallic thud and something tumbled from his hands across the floor.

He rolled out of the way as you aimed your blaster at him; knocking it from your hands in the process.

No matter; you slipped the knife from your waistband out and slashed at him. He expertly dodged each swing, but when you raised your leg and kicked him square in the stomach; he flew backwards over a table, shattering it on impact.

You leapt upon him, knife raised, and he knocked it from your hand.

Immediately, you raised your opposite fist and when you moved to bring it down, he caught your hand in his gloved one.

“Don’t punch Beskar,” his modulated voice advised. “You’ll break your hand.”

You sat there, frozen, as he held your fist in his hand. You stared at the black T of his visor, knowing he was staring right back at you. Tears burned your vision, but you would not let them fall for him.

Grunting and cursing, you kicked off of him; dusting off your pants and moving toward the bar.

“Get the hell out of here, Mandalorian.” You spat before returning to your seat at the bar. not minding the destruction you’d just left in your wake.

Tears burned your vision as you tossed back the second shot of liquor you’d left behind. The burn offered no relief from the pain of his return.

Your body stiffened as you heard his armor clanging as he stood and collected himself; but as you braced yourself to hear his steps withdraw, they only drew nearer to you.

He slammed a bag down on the table next to you.

You scoffed, ignoring it. “We don’t want your money, Mandalorian.” As if that could undo the damage he’d caused in his absence.

“Open it,” was all he said.

You swiveled in your seat, eyeing him dangerously before pulling the bag to you. You pulled the strings holding it shut and gasped upon finding the severed head.

Your eyes snapped toward his, or at least where you imagined they were behind his visor. “What is this supposed to—“

He tossed a puck on the table. Your mouth fell shut as a hologram appeared; stunned to see your face in the hazy blue light emanating from it.

You turned back to the Mandalorian, “I don’t understand.”

“He put this hit out on you,” he gestured toward the head. “On the day I left to dispose of the spice and arms with Greef Karga, I was attacked by spice runners. Spice runners who had your face in their hands. I couldn’t let them get to you.”

Blood pounded in your ears. He’d not come back to protect you, to keep you safe. It didn’t stop the damage done in his absence.

“You could’ve made contact,” you bit, venom sharp on your tongue.

Mando used his forearm to push the bag aside and lowered himself down into the seat beside you.

“If I’d pinged you, they could’ve pulled your location. There were already enough trickling back into the city and the hit wasn’t widespread news amongst local crime networks. Gods knows I did my best to hunt down anyone with this puck in hand; and in doing so, it lead me to the leader.”

Your mind whirled; both from the sudden realization of what had actually transpired and the liquor burning a hole in your empty stomach. The fight with Mando had stirred up things both physically and mentally and you suddenly felt sick.

Leather clad fingers brushed your shoulder and you hated how it both set your flesh alight with desire and caused your body to relax. The anger you felt was so raw and biting, but the way your body remembered his gentle touch had your tight shoulders sagging beneath it.

The pad of his thumb circled the thick pink scar tissue from the blaster strike; the shoulder still ached from time to time but overall had healed well.

As his thumb gently probed the tissue, you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath you’d not realized you’d been holding in.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said after a long while.

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” You turned your body to look at him straight on. “You lied to me.” Thick, hot tears welled along your lower eyelids. Your voice wavered as you continued, “I felt like a whore, Din. Like a plaything that you used once and got bored of.” Tears leaked over your lashes and you cursed yourself for being so vulnerable in front of him. “Damnit!” you slammed your first down on the table and raked a hand through your hair.

“You could’ve left me at the med bay. You barely knew me. You had no obligation to stay. But you, Din, you took me back to your ship and literally nursed me back to health.” You stood to leave then, not bothering to look at him as you did so as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. “You were the one to stay behind long after you were clear to leave, yet you stayed. You treated me like I was a fucking royal and then left me like a womp rat stuck in a trap that you couldn’t bare to put out if it’s misery.”

As you reached the exit door, a leather clad hand wrapped around your wrist and an unfamiliar hiss caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. You stood there for a moment, frozen, unsure of what to do.

“What are you doing?” you choked out, refusing to turn around.

“I don’t know what I could say,” his voice was smooth, unmodulated. “That this gesture can’t prove.”

His grip tightend around your wrist, not painfully, desperately.

You closed your eyes and bit your quivering lip. He said your name and it came out of his lips a plea.

Turning around, you didn’t open your eyes. Instead, you loosed yourself from his grip and felt for his other hand which clutched his helmet.

You circled your fingers around the lip of the opening and took it from him, surprised he allowed you to take it from his hand. With your other one, you felt up the breast plate of his armor until you reached the sharp line of his jaw, rough with a few days worth of stubble.

Raising the helmet, you used both hands to lower it down over his face until it hissed and clicked back into place. Only then did you open your eyes, finding them reflected back at you in the inky black of his visor.

“I would never ask you to forsake your Creed, Mando, surely you must understand that.”

He took a daring step toward you, inclining his head as he did so. “That’s not my name,”

“Din,” you breathed, sighing his name out. “Surely you know I’d never ask you to do that.”

His leather clad fingers slipped between yours. “I couldn’t risk them hurting you, I’ve only just found you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips for the first time since he’d stepped foot inside the tavern. “That’s a bit romantic for a Mandalorian, don’t you think?”

You felt the cool steel of his Beskar vambrace through the fabric of his shirt as he drew you near to his body for an embrace.

“I keep finding ways in which I’m not a normal Mandalorian.”

“Good,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around his pauldrons. squeezing and hoping he felt the warmth in your embrace. “I’ve never liked normal.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #din djarin x y/n #fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic

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anim-ttrpgs · 5 months ago

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Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Itchio Beta Update January 30th 2025

You can now get a much more polished version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on itch.io! Payment is optional, but greatly appreciated!

I’m proud of this update despite it not really being quite as extensive as I would’ve liked it to be considering the three months in between the last big public update and now, but as if my some act of God, nearly every single member of our team had some kind of personal life issue (moving, illness, etc.) across all of November and December, which really slowed down our progress on Eureka. We were back full steam ahead in January, and that allowed us to at least push one really big improvement through in time for this update: The mystery-writing guide.

It was important to me to release a big public update this month because January 2025 is when we stated on the Kickstarter that Eureka would be releasing. Well, underestimation and unexpected complications have meant that the game isn’t finished yet as of January 2025, but this big update that you can download and play is us making up for that at least partially, it shows our fans that even though we haven’t met our deadline, we haven’t been slacking off, and we do have a lot to show for it.

In addition to new art, new traits, and rules clarifications, the Eureka rulebook now sports an in-depth mystery writing guide. This comes just in time for those of you participating in our mystery module game jam. (Sign-ups are open now, submissions are open from March to April of 2025.)

In addition to a rulebook update, we have released two previously patron-exclusive Eureka mystery modules, “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game.” You can find them at this link here. Payment is optional but highly appreciated!

Patreon updates will continue monthly as we work steadily on the project.

Oh and one more thing before we get to the full changelog. As many of you know, we run a “TTRPG Book Club” where the club votes on games to play and then splits off into groups to play them (it’s very schedule-flexible), and discusses them as we go. Well, at the time of writing this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is currently in the lead, which means we are very likely to be playing that next. Join the book club during the sign-up period in the next couple of weeks if you want to play Eureka and discuss it with the developers!

Here’s the full changelog!

Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 302. Half-ass copy-edited up to p. 322.

We also released Eureka adventure modules “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game” into free beta on itch.io. Scroll up to find the link and a game jam!

WHOLE BOOK

CHAPTER 1

Better clarified Unconsciousness.

Better clarified the penalty negation of Grievous Wounds, gave guidelines for what aid may negate what Grievous Wounds, and made it so that these aids can stack to a penalty negation of up to 4.

Edited and simplified the travel time math when using Ticks.

Worsened penalty for using Medicine on oneself from -1 to -2.

Added some quick fix patches to the Assistance Roll section to make it more clear when Assistance Rolls should and should not be allowed. May end up completely rewriting some parts of this section in the near future to make it so that the divide is less based on Investigative vs Non-Investigative, but instead provide clearer stipulations. One potential issue is we really have to be careful not to write the rules so that every character assisting with every Investigative Roll is the optimal strategy, because that would make the game less fun.

CHAPTER 2

New Traits: The Truth Comes Out, Poser

Buffed Believer Trait

Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Un-Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Made vampires and characters with the Arithmomaniac Trait immune to the “Click” Woo Roll effect

Added Crutches to Item List

More art has been added

Buffed Elementary! Trait

Buffed The Ascot Trait

Buffed The Other Trait

Buffed Poser Trait

Added Nobody’s Fool Trait

Added That’s No Way to Feel Trait

Made some clarifications on Tiers of Fear

Made it so there is a flat PM penalty for investigators that are living out of their vehicles.

Added RVs/campers/trailers to Homes

Lowered the PM of vans and SUVs

Moved Police from Optional to Mandatory on Tiers of Fear

CHAPTER 3

Added a Compromise Armor attack that is also a Movement and can only be done starting from a Grab

More art has been added

CHAPTER 7

Added “How to Write a Mystery” section, a big step-by-step guide on how to write your very own Eureka mystery module.

Added “Starting an Adventure with Disaster” section

Added more guidelines for Eureka’s tone, setting, and lore.

CHAPTER 8

Made it so fairies have to make a reflexes roll to be able to spirit away people with extremely brief contact.

Better clarified some other things about Spiriting Away and “voluntary” skin-to-skin contact.

Added that a Potion of Healing can also cure non-chronic disease.

Added that more potions than just the curse potions can be made curative by adding an extra Table 3 ingredient, and that curative potions can be bought with WP just like other potions.

Clarified that gorgons can’t eat rocks.

Clarified that advanced curses can override each other.

Changed Monsters Eating Monsters section to Monsters vs Monsters and made it a more generalized section about all kinds of edge cases that might come up when monsters interact with each other. The section is kind of disorganized right now but will be cleaned up in copy-editing.

Clarified that all wolfmen have a human form as one of their three forms.

Redid the hunting tables and added the tables for the Bar/Nightclub, Gay Bar/Nightclub, and Gaming/Hobby Store. They are not fully complete but they are at least functional at this time.

Vampires now have a chance to start partially phasing through objects when they are at 0 Composure.

Changed the standard Stealth bonus vampires have at max Composure from +3 to +2.

Adjusted the mechanics for how to permanently “kill” a vampire.

More art has been added

Buffed Learning by Example TFB Ability

Clarified fairies taking voices

Clarified the animal options for the Curse of Transformation

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felassan · 11 months ago

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard Steam "About This Game" section -

"Enter the world of Thedas, a vibrant land of rugged wilderness, treacherous labyrinths, and glittering cities – steeped in conflict and secret magics. Now, a pair of corrupt ancient gods have broken free from centuries of darkness and are hellbent on destroying the world. Thedas needs someone they can count on. Rise as Rook, Dragon Age’s newest hero. Be who you want to be and play how you want to play as you fight to stop the gods from blighting the world. But you can’t do this alone – the odds are stacked against you. Lead a team of seven companions, each with their own rich story to discover and shape, and together you will become The Veilguard. Rally the Veilguard and defy the gods in Dragon Age™: The Veilguard, an immersive single-player RPG where you become the leader others believe in."

"UNITE A BATTERED WORLD Enter Thedas, a vibrant world of rugged wilderness, treacherous labyrinths, and glittering cities. The world is teetering on a knife’s edge while corrupt gods unleash havoc across the continent. Nations war, and factions splinter. Who will you trust? From the Arlathan Forest to the back alleys of Minrathous, this is a broken world. Your actions will affect the fate of Thedas forever. - Dramatic Single-Player Campaign — When corrupt Elven Gods threaten Thedas, lead the charge to save it. Rook isn’t afraid of a fight, no matter the odds. No matter the cost. - Vibrant & Diverse Environments — Enter a vivid fantasy world, and experience imaginative new locations as well as some you’ve heard of but never seen. - Larger-than-life Foes — Battle darkspawn, demons from beyond the Veil, dragons that rule the skies, and unique enemies as you advance your quest and fight for Thedas’s future."

"RALLY THE VEILGUARD Rally a team of 7 companions, each with rich lives and deep backstories. These are characters to befriend and even fall in love with. Among them, an assassin, a necromancer, a detective, each and all bringing their own expertise and unique abilities to the fight. You are never alone — decide who to take into battle, and together face down demons, dragons, and corrupt gods. - Recruit Distinct Companions — Your team is full of individuals with grim and wondrous histories, their own personal struggles and motivations, and rare skills that’ll help you survive. You’ll fight alongside Harding: The Scout, Neve: The Detective, Emmrich: The Necromancer, Taash: The Dragon Hunter, Davrin: The Warden, Bellara: The Veil Jumper, and Lucanis: The Mage Killer. - Rich Companion Stories — Deepen relationships with each companion and learn more about them on your adventures in Thedas. Your choices in these stories will impact how they develop, and completing them might unlock powerful abilities. Create memories with your team that will deepen your experiences in Thedas and give you more to fight for."

"BECOME THE LEADER OTHERS BELIEVE IN Select from different races and combat classes, customize your appearance, choose your character’s backstory, and begin your journey as Rook, Dragon Age’s newest hero. The choice is yours. On your adventures, you’ll gain new abilities and discover unique, powerful artifacts to enhance your own combat style. Brace yourself: there are tough decisions to be made, allies to inspire, and a fight that needs every sword, staff, and bow you can muster. - Be Who You Want To Be — Craft your personalized Rook with a robust character creator. Choose from a diverse set of appearance options for Human, Qunari, Dwarf, and Elf lineages. - Choose Your Way To Play — Select from 3 classes (Warrior, Mage, and Rogue), each with 2 distinct weapon types and unique abilities you can select between mid-combat. Experience new strategic depth as you combine fast-paced attacks, parries, and dodges with the companion ability wheel to exploit enemy weaknesses and seize victory with devastating combat combos. Customize a combat style that works for you. - Deep RPG Progression — Level up your Rook and companions with their own skill trees. Choose perks and combat abilities as you climb towards more powerful specializations. WARNING: See important flashing images and other health and safety information at www.ea.com/legal." [link]

[source: Steam]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #I think parts of this blurb might be new? maybe? 🤔#like some parts of it I definitely 100% remember like the glittering cities and teetering on a knife's edge #but some parts I don't feel familiar with #like factions splintering and who will you trust #and like i post/paste everything to my blog #and I can't find the bits I don't feel familiar with on here except in this post obviously #but I don't see anywhere on steamdb where it mentions the 'about' blurb was updated lately #🤔🤔#update: I think I found where it's from originally. :D dont mind me hhh

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fancyfeathers · 2 months ago

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Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Previous Chapter <- Interlude I, Weighted Blanket -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Hal Jordan’s Darling!Reader

This is different from a full chapter, think of interludes in this story as flashbacks to when things were normal, or as normal as they could be, before the main story that will share important information about our protagonists.

Interludes will be told from the perspective of the darlings/wives/partners of the Justice League

Three Years Before the Story Start

“I have to leave pretty early this morning, they want to do a test flight before they show it this afternoon.” Your husband spoke to you as you were laid out in bed, your back propped up against the bed’s headboard, a book on your lap. Your husband was just finishing getting dressed for bed, it was pretty chilly out tonight so he was wearing a pair of thicker pajama pants and a long black sleeved shirt that looked quite nice on him given his physique. “You think you can make sure the twins get ready for school in the morning without me? The bus comes at-“

“7:25, I know, they’ll be fine, Hal.” You responded to your husband as you closed the book on your lap before setting it aside on the nightstand beside the bed. “They’re not little kids anymore.”

“I know… I just… worry about them you know?”

“I know-“

You were cut off by the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door, which caught both of your attention. Your husband walked over to the bedroom door and turned the knob and opened the door to reveal your teenage daughter, well not really a teenager anymore since her and her brother’s eighteen birthday was in a month, almost all grown up. Even though she was almost all grown up she had her issues, her face was all red and puffy as if she was crying and she was shaking ever so slightly, another one of her panic attacks.

“I…I… Daddy… I… can’t…”

“Hey… hey, I’m here, Mommy and Daddy are here.” He spoke to her, urging her to come inside with a hand on her chest and lower back, leading her to sit down on the bed beside you. “Focus on your breathing… in… and… out… I’ve got you…”

Your daughter, she has had anxiety issues since she started high school and then self doubt and self image issues since she was a little girl, the issues just kept on stacking up since she was little. Honestly you felt a bit guilty about her current state of mind, feeling as if you should blame yourself, after all her brother was extremely gifted and you encouraged your husband to send him to a special school for extremely gifted children, separating the twins for the first time which had a heavy effect on your little girl, it unconsciously made her feel like she was not good enough, would never be as good as her brother. She has always needed a little bit of extra love since then, while your son gravitated towards you as his preferred parent, your daughter was closer to your husband, which was unfortunate since he was off planet for weeks at a time as Green Lantern, it broke your husband’s heart to be away from her when she may need him.

“Can you name five things you see, sweetheart?”

“T-the carpet… the mirror… t-the bed… you… and m-mom…”

“Good. That’s good. What about four things you can touch?”

“The bed… your hands… my pajamas… my hair…”

This happened more often than you would have liked, though you did not like it at all, it hurt you to see her like this. Her and Hal have developed a whole process for her panic attacks now, breathing exercises, sitting down together, then naming five things she can see, naming four things she can touch, naming three things she can hear, naming two things she can smell, and naming one thing she can taste until the world slowly slides back into focus, until her body starts to feel like her own again. Then afterwards he would get her weighted blanket and then sit down with her until it was all over, well over for that time at least.

“Alright, are you with me sweetheart?”

“I…I’m with you…”

“That’s good, sweetheart.” He told her as he slowly stood up, testing the waters to see if she was okay with him leaving her side, which she was. Hal walked across the room to the back of your shared closet door where his old air force jacket hung off the doorknob and where there was a blanket basket near the closet door, grabbing one of the weighted blankets you all kept around for situations like this. He walked back over to her side, draping his jacket over her shoulders, she always liked his jacket since it was always warm, it felt so cozy and safe to her, you wish you could say the same. He wrapped the blanket around her, keeping her all secure and safe. “Do you want to talk about this with me or do you want me to call your therapist in the morning so I can schedule an appointment for you?”

“I…I want… my therapist…”

“Will do.” Normally if she wanted her therapist it was something with her friends, something that she did not want to tell you two right away. You only knew that because some of her old friends were not the nicest and caused her to experience things that her therapist needed to report to you two like suicidal thoughts or her developing an eating disorder, it hurt you so much to see her like this. “How bad was it this time?”

“A five…”

“Okay… is there anything I can do to help you right now?”

“Can… can you sit with me until I go to sleep?”

“Of course, you can lay down by us until you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to your room when you do.”

You watched as your daughter nodded, you patted the mattress, a silent invitation for her to curl up between you two like she did like when she was a little girl. She rested her head in your lap as a pillow, the perfect position for you to brush your fingers through her hair and for your husband to run circles on her back, tricks you two used to get her out like a light. Though even when she did fall asleep, you knew that she was going to be laying by you two for a few more minutes longer.

“…I want to get her a service dog.” Your husband spoke up after a long few minutes of silence after your daughter fell asleep in your grasp, Hal’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ve been talking to Spooky- Bruce about it and there are a few really good training facilities for emotional support animals that his company sponsors.”

“Hal, are you sure-“

“I’ve talked to her therapist about it, it’s what they recommend.” He spoke to you, his eyes not tearing away from his daughter, your daughter. “I know you are worried about her too, but it will really be for the best, trust me.”

Trust him…

You really had no choice but to trust him…

After all the last time you had gone out into public had to be decades ago, a long time before you even conceived the twins. You did not count the visits to the watchtower, after all no one in the public knew where you were, just the ones who wore masks and suits. It was hard trying to come up with reasons as for why no one ever saw you, the twins’ mother at school events, at your daughter’s rugby game or your son’s tennis match, after all it was for the best that you stayed here where you could be kept safe and sound, at least that is what your husband told you…

“Alright, a service dog sounds good for her.” You finally responded after a moment’s delay. “I’m sure you can figure it out with the school.”

“I’ll make some calls in the morning on my way to work, get this all figured out for her… for us.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek before sliding out of bed ever so carefully as to not to wake your daughter, and when he said he would carry your daughter to bed when she fell asleep, he meant he would use one of his lantern ring constructs to carry her to bed so he would not wake her up. Green light formed around your daughter as a cacophony like construct lifted her up from the bed as your husband led her out of the room with the concentration on his ring, giving you one last charming smile as he stepped out of the room, following after where his ring’s construct took her. “Trust me baby, I love you.”

“I know, Hal.”

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squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame · 3 months ago

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Board Game Betrayal

character: Young-Il X fem!reader

Summary: A friendly board game night turns into a full-blown war when Young-Il betrays you in Monopoly.

Warnings: none🦑🦑

It was supposed to be a cozy, laid-back evening. You, Young-Il, and a couple of friends gathered around the coffee table, snacks scattered everywhere, a board game in the middle. The game of choice tonight was Monopoly—a classic. Young-Il grinned at you across the table, his eyes sparkling with playful energy. "Ready to lose?" he teased, shaking the dice in his hands.

"Ha," you chuckled, rolling your eyes. "We'll see who loses." You gave him a mock challenge before focusing back on the board. The rules were simple: buy properties, build hotels, bankrupt opponents. But somehow, every game with Young-Il always turned into a fierce competition. You kept a steady lead throughout the first half of the game, carefully managing your properties, watching your money stack grow. Meanwhile, Young-Il—ever the sly one—had been playing aggressively, making risky trades with the other players, and somehow coming out on top. "You're gonna regret that trade," you warned him after he'd managed to snatch up an important property from you in a deal that felt like a personal attack

."Oh, please. I'm just doing what I can to win," he said with a smirk, winking at you. You couldn't help but laugh, even as you felt a little uneasy. But that was just the beginning. As the game wore on, it became clear that Young-Il was a man on a mission.

He'd bought up the most expensive properties, and soon, you were stuck paying him exorbitant amounts in rent. The tension in the room grew as everyone took their turns, but it seemed like you were the only one struggling. "I think it’s time to buy this," Young-Il said smugly, landing on your property with a devilish grin.

"Really?" you asked, trying not to sound desperate. But there was no stopping him. He bought it with a flourish, and now you were nearly bankrupt.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, he dropped the final bomb.

"You’re out," he announced, watching you sigh in defeat. "I won."

You felt a pang of frustration hit your chest, but it didn’t last long. Young-Il leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too satisfied with himself. He had that cocky look on his face—the one that meant he knew exactly what he’d done.

But you weren’t done yet.With a glint in your eye, you leaned forward, eyes locked on the board. "Alright, alright. I’ll leave this round to you," you said, forcing a smile. "But just wait for the next game."

Young-Il laughed, clearly thinking he’d crushed your spirit. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead, get mad. You’re just bad at Monopoly." You grinned back, but this time it wasn’t out of defeat—it was the grin of someone plotting revenge.

The next round of Monopoly began with a fresh deck, and this time, you played differently. You kept your moves subtle at first, quietly building your properties, staying out of Young-Il’s way. He wasn’t paying much attention at first, still feeling high off his victory in the previous round. He didn’t notice that you’d been quietly laying traps for him.

When he landed on your property again, the one you’d carefully developed over several turns, you smiled sweetly. "That’ll be $1,500."

He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden price. "What? But how—" His voice trailed off as the other players laughed, already seeing what you had done. You’d developed your properties to the point where he had no chance of avoiding bankruptcy.His smug expression faltered. "Wait, hold on—"

And just like that, the tables had turned. He tried to fight it, but there was nothing he could do.

"How does it feel?" you asked, leaning in with a grin. "A little payback."

Young-Il’s jaw dropped as he slowly realized he had been outsmarted. The room erupted into laughter as you took your victory with ease.

"You may have won the first round," you teased, "but this one’s mine."

"I... I can’t believe it," he groaned, slumping in his chair. "You played me."

You smirked, giving him a playful wink. "Sometimes, Young-Il, you just have to know when to go all in. And sometimes, you get to be the one on top."

🦑🦑🦑

#squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game #squid game netflix #squid game imagines #squid game headcanons #squid game x y/n #the front man #young il #front man #oh young il #player 001

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judasrpc · 10 months ago

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TIPS FOR WRITING COMBAT, TACTICS, AND / OR FIELD MEDICINE SCENARIOS PT. 2

Hello again! Coming out of the woodwork with my niche interests and hoping to pass along some information about writing things such as combat, tactical operations, and / or field medicine!

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, nor am I someone who has served in the military or law enforcement in any capacity. Any information in this post is gained from personal research in mostly internet circles. Some topics may be unsettling/disturbing, so please take care in reading.

You can view part one of this post [HERE].

Note: This part will be written more in-depth, as the sources I've pulled from are either no longer accessible, or from narrators I would not feel comfortable platforming due to their motives for sharing this information (e.g., anti-human rights individuals with qualified backgrounds). Knowledge is power, but we don't have to platform fascists in order to share it (* ^ ω ^)

To start this post off, I'll share some archives I've found since part one! This way, if you're just looking for resources and don't want to read something super lengthy, this post is still (hopefully) useful to my fellow writers.

Safety Data Sheets [Archive] - A collection of safety data sheets for what looks like various types of compounds, mostly based around industrial work (e.g., concrete mixes, roof coatings, etc.). While arguably not relevant to this sort of topic focus, I think it could be in the right scenarios, especially as sheets provide first-aid instructions, hazard classification, and details about specific compounds.

War Medicine [Archive] - Definitely a more historical reference (dated 1918), but published by the American Red Cross Society in France covering… war medicine. Includes various diagrams and topics.

Field Manuals and Technical Manuals [Archive] - A collection of field and technical manuals from various military services spanning across various decades. I believe most of these are U.S.-based.

Now, for the in-depth written information, placed behind the "keep reading" button.

CLOSE-QUARTERS BATTLE (CQB) / MILITARY OPERATIONS IN URBAN TERRAIN (MOUT)

CQB is typically defined as a short duration, high intensity conflict characterized by sudden violence at close range. MOUT is an example of a scenario where CQB may be applicable.

When in these environments, it's important for your character(s) to know how to navigate them. The presence of closer-knit buildings, various entryways, and populated environments means there's a lot of risk for both them and those around them.

As such, one of the founding concepts is entry and clearance.

There are many different ways to enter and clear rooms within a building, but the three primary types are as follows:

Conventional (aka: Strong Walling) - The leading individual "commits" to the room by stepping in with their full body, pressing their back to the wall opposite to the door's attachment, and using their upper torso to sweep the room with their light/weapon.

Lateral - The leading individual enters the room at either a 90-degree angle to the door (straight toward back wall of room) or a 45-degree angle (toward the corner opposite to the door).

Framing - Rather than step into the room, the leading individual peeks around the door frame and conducts their sweep from within it (think of them as using the door frame as a "mount" for their weapon, if they have one).

These can be conducted solo, or with a wingman.

A wingman is usually one other individual who stacks beside the leading individual, and uses an over-the-shoulder vantage to provide a secondary set of eyes for cover, while also being able to cover tasks such as opening doors.

Then, there's navigating environments as teams. With teams, there comes a need to develop tactics. With CQB in particular, there are two primary types of strategies:

Dynamic - Rapid movement and clearance; Your character(s) are likely in a high-intensity/time-sensitive scenario where speed is more important than safety. In these scenarios, your character(s) is/are more likely to clear rooms by committing with their entry and flooding in if in a team.

Deliberate - Slower movement and clearance; Your character(s) are likely still in dire circumstance, but they're able to take the time and prioritize safety over speed. In these scenarios, your character(s) is/are more likely to clear rooms by framing and entering one at a time to ensure all angles are covered.

But not every room is a perfect rectangle with wider-open spaces. Regardless of the structure, dead space is an important factor to consider for characters both outside and within these environments.

Dead space simply refers to the space that has not been cleared by the individual(s) entering the space. There are a few different types, including:

Anchored - The object creating the dead space is anchored to a wall, and thus prevents flanking. This could be a dividing wall, and certain types of cabinetry or other furniture.

Unanchored - The object creating the dead space is not anchored to a wall, and thus allows for flanking. This can be… any piece of furniture, crates/boxes/shelves, even certain installation pieces such as a 360-fireplace or showcase tank/terrarium.

Low - The object creating the dead space cannot fully conceal an individual/individuals who are standing, but could if they were crouched or laying prone. This could be things such as couches, tables with cloth over them, etc.

High - The object creating the dead space is elevated above the entry point. This usually, and pretty much only, includes things like stairwells, but it could include higher cabinetry if your character(s) is/are creative enough or able to navigate that.

Moving away from specific scenarios, there is something I've seen written a lot in fanfic and in rp spaces that I think would be important to clarify:

Do. not. attempt. to. catch. a. falling. gun.

I'm serious! In active combat, this isn't as applicable because your character's goal is (ultimately) to neutralize whatever threat is in front of them. Beyond that, though, your character(s) should never attempt to catch.

"But why? Wouldn't you want to stop it from discharging?"

That is why.

Yes, the firearm may discharge when hitting the ground… but in catching it, your character(s) may also discharge it. Unless they know for a fact they will not grab the area around or within the trigger guard, it's highly likely that a finger/fingers will slip into the guard and, due to the force of the catch, end up pulling.

The best practice, especially for a character/characters who are skilled with firearms and versed in safety practices, is to put the hands up and let it fall. Step back, find cover if possible, and retrieve the firearm after it has landed.

And again, I am not responsible for what y'all do with this info. Read responsibly, and stay frosty!

#rph #rpc #writing guide #tactical guide #guide #judasrpc

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4-the-l0ve-0f-art · 6 months ago

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"You were a daydream inside a nightmare."

Chapter 3: A Helping Hand

Word count: 1.4k

Trigger warnings: none

Ao3 Link Chapter Links for Tumblr

The next day, you entered the palace with a mostly-finished painting in hand, ready to get critique and any required changes from your client. But first, you needed to find the Head Butler’s office. It was going to be a hassle to walk around with a canvas half your size in hand. The journey to the palace was long enough, yet you still haven’t reached your desired destination.

The palace was full of life in the morning hours, a sight you were not yet used to. Gorgeous carriages with what you assumed would be important guests were lining up at the main entrance, gardeners were hard at work maintaining the endless landscapes, servants busy keeping the pathways clean, and knights could be seen patrolling the grounds. And somewhere in the middle of this vibrant environment was you, lost yet again.

You had followed a pathway which you thought was the same one that led you to the exit from yesterday, but this time, you ended up in the middle of some kind of open greenhouse or private garden. This place was truly questioning whether you’re directionally challenged or not.

There was a circular fountain in the middle of the greenhouse, surrounded by a gravel pathway and wooden benches. Your arms were starting to get tired carrying the supplies and painting so you decided to set down your items on the closest bench. Walking around the fountain, a pathway leading deeper into the greenhouse came into sight right behind it.

You decided to check it out and see if there was anyone else inside to help you find your way in the palace. Walking deeper into the greenhouse, the smells of various plants surrounded the air. Some you recognised as a typical flower scent, mixed in with wet soil and other floral scents you weren’t familiar with. At the end of the pathway, a pond came into sight.

And on the edge of it stood a man you could recognise anywhere, his back facing you, with his dragon scaled cloak and signature long black hair, his dark appearance looking out of place in the middle of a place full of greenery.

He turned around before you could debate whether to approach him or not.

Capitano was startled awake when he heard a loud knock on his office door.

“Captain, an advisor from the court is looking for you.” A pause. There was no reply from the inside of the office. “Capitan?”

The first thing he felt was a slight ache in his neck from falling asleep while leaning back on his chair.

“Agh..” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sir, are you alright?” The voice on the other side of the door called out.

“Yes- I..” An ache was forming in the sides of his head. “Tell them to schedule a meeting in advance if it’s not anything urgent.”

“As you say, Captain.”

The sound of footsteps fade away.

Capitano stared at the stacks of documents on his desk. He had fallen asleep while working on paperwork nonstop into the early hours of the morning, and the lamp on the desk had run out of oil at some point during his slumber.

He decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

Capitano froze as soon as he saw you.

“..Did I disturb you? Sorry, I’ll just..” Not sure what to do, you decided to turn around to leave.

“Wait.” He spoke before you could take a step.

“..Yes?” You glanced back. You couldn’t see his face but it seemed like he was looking at yours.

“You.. were there yesterday, weren’t you? At the training grounds.” With a lunchbox in hand, staring at him. He decided not to add that last observation.

You turned back around, conversation now seemingly inescapable.

“Oh, yes. I didn’t realise you noticed..” You replied sheepishly, rubbing your neck. A nervous tick you developed growing up.

No one said anything for a while. The silence was loud. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared past him, at the pond.

Just as you were about to mentally bury yourself and never wake up again, he asked you a question.

“Are you new? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“I am.. To be honest, I keep on getting lost around here. That’s how I ended up at the training grounds yesterday and now I’m somehow here.”

Capitano walked closer to you. You thought he was coming closer to talk, but then he walked past you.

“Come. I will show you out. Where do you want to go?”

Startled, you hurried to his side, maintaining appropriate distance. “I was looking for the Head Butler’s office. You don’t have to if you’re busy, I can find someone else.”

“It’s in the main palace building. I was heading there anyway.”

As you reached the fountain roundabout, you stopped at the bench to pick up your supplies and painting.

“Are you an artist?” He asked.

“I am.” You introduced yourself to him, your name and what you were commissioned for. “You’re the Captain of the Royal Knights, right?”

He nodded.

“You may call me Capitano.” He glanced at the items you were picking up.. Or at least that’s what it looked like from the direction of his face. “..Have you been carrying all this by yourself?”

“Yeah, It’s a painting I need feedback on today.” You were awkwardly struggling to find balance between the painting tucked under your arms and the bag of supplies in your hand.

He reached his hand out. You looked up at him, not sure what he meant.

“..The painting. Let me carry it.”

On your way to the other side of the palace, you took the initiative to converse to prevent the silence from festering. You walked alongside him with your painting under one of his arms, and your supply bag in your hands.

“So, uhm–Do you have any recommendations on what to showcase? Considering you work here, you would know this place pretty well.” You weren’t sure whether it was okay to talk so casually to the Captain of the Royal Knights, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with it so far.

“A scene to showcase from the palace?” He asked. You replied yes.

He went silent. You glanced up at him. You weren’t sure if he wasn’t going to reply or if he was just taking a moment to think.

You kept on walking in silence this time, deciding not to disturb the peace.

With a stare or few on the way, you finally reached the hallway in which you assumed was the Head Butler’s office, stopping at the entrance.

He broke the silence first, pointing to a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. “That is where you should be going.”

You reached to take the painting from him. “Thank you so much.” You bowed. “I owe you one.” He handed you the painting.

The conversation felt like it had come to an end, so you started walking ahead.

“Wait.” He suddenly called out, startling you. This seemed to be a trend with him. You turned back around, looking at him.

“..A garden behind the main building. The fireflies look beautiful there at night.” He paused. “See you around.”

You stared at him for a moment. “Thank you.” You bowed again. “See you too.”

He nodded, turned back, and left.

A smile made its way to your face.

You somehow managed to knock on the office door with all the baggage you were carrying.

“Enter.”

You pushed one of the doors open and entered the room. A man sat behind a desk, reading glasses in hand, squinting at some papers in the other. He had the whitest slicked back hair and a moustache so long and sharp it could cut through glass. He looked up, his eyes brightening at your sight.

“Oh! You must be the painter!” He stood up, his moustache moving as he moved. He walked over to you and bowed with his right hand resting on his left chest and the other behind his back. “Call me Rodderdinger. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His coattails swayed at the elegant bow.

What an unusual name, you thought. This place is full of interesting characters.

You politely introduce yourself.

“Please, please, take a seat.” He walked back to his desk. “And my, those items look quite heavy. You can set them down on the sofa.” He said, gesturing with his hand.

And so, you began your meeting with Mr. Rodderdinger.

#fic: you were a daydream inside a nightmare #my writing #capitano x reader #capitano x you #fatui capitano #capitano #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #harbinger x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin harbingers

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allgirlsareprincesses · 2 years ago

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Love At First Sight (2023)

Okay, we’re going to talk about the new Netflix romance directed by Vanessa Caswill, Love At First Sight, because I’m seeing almost no chatter about it and that cannot stand. Full disclosure, I’ve never read the book on which this movie is based, The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, so I’m reacting only to the film (which I’ve now seen 4.5 times in 2 days).

The Surface Reading

It’s a perfect, tight, adorable little RomCom that’s heavy on the Rom and light on the Com, with a wrenching dash of angst and the most hair-twirling chemistry between two leads that has graced our screens in years. Truly, if all you want is 90 minutes of two actors being saccharine precious cinnamon rolls, look no further!

There are simple takeaways here, like that chance can only take you so far, but in the end you have to choose to love. Or that change and loss are part of life and you can’t run from them. Or that London is a massive labyrinth of eccentric people that probably looks 400% cooler onscreen than it is in reality (I wouldn’t know, I’ve never visited, so this and the 90s Parent Trap are the extent of my knowledge about the city, sorry).

Anyway, I adored how straightforward the story was - that the narrator (played brilliantly by Jameela Jamil) tells you directly in the first two minutes that it’s a story about love, fate, and statistics. She then repeatedly describes every development as it is happening, the characters’ histories and internal monologues, and all the context you need to follow the thin but fast-paced plot. The writing, performances, and production design are all solid, allowing the audience to get lost in the romance as it unfolds.

BUT if you’re slightly unhinged like I am and you’re always looking for more layers in your media, HAVE NO FEAR! There is in fact more going on in this little movie than you might expect.

Color Theory

For starters, the use of red and green in the film is fascinating. Yes, I realize the action of the story takes place a few days before Christmas, so you might assume it was just a seasonal aesthetic choice, but if you look closer, you can see very carefully selected shades of red and green repeating throughout the film. The red is a cool, deep rose color, sometimes pink, while the green is cool and dark, like oxidized bronze rather than emerald. Further, while they appear over and over, these hues are rarely used in a purely decorative or festive way. Instead, they play a role in the separation and coming together of the couple. On a color wheel, red and green are complements, perfect opposites that are never adjacent but always joined in the middle.

The title card during Hadley’s introduction is literally a green stripe over a red stripe, then the hallways of the airport are green, and of course Hadley’s ever-important backpack is a rosy red. As the couple grow closer on their flight, the light turns pink. Once in London, a green van takes Oliver one way while a red taxi takes Hadley the other. At her father’s wedding, Hadley is dressed in red (“the color of a bruise” she calls it), contrasting beautifully against her green jacket. Upon realizing Oliver’s true purpose, she chases after him on an iconic red double-decker bus. Meanwhile at the living memorial, Oliver’s father is dressed in red while his mother wears a faded green, as if to say she is already beginning to fade away. The event is decorated with green drapery and streamers, and there are even stacks of red and green chairs in the stairwell where Oliver begs his mother to receive treatment.

Hadley gifts her red and green bouquet to Tessa, and when she is driven away, a green-clad narrator returns the red backpack to Oliver. Wandering London alone, Hadley exchanges her painful red heels for a pair of green trainers (“sneakers!” she insists), and tries to call her dad first in a red phone booth and then on a phone from a stranger sitting in a cluster of red chairs. Finally, Oliver chooses to pursue Hadley to the wedding reception which is lit in pink, and where they finally share the long-awaited kiss.

There are many more examples, but in general we see that green indicates separation and loss, while red symbolizes joining, intimacy, and (what else?) love! It lends the film a gorgeous, subtle aesthetic without being garishly festive, and shows the lovers’ emotional journey from lonely childhood to vulnerable, loving adulthood.

Death and Rebirth

Speaking of which, there’s plenty of rebirth imagery too! When Hadley and Oliver meet, they are both still children, struggling with the impending loss of parental security through divorce and death. Thus, when they board the plane, it is as if they enter an underworld or womb, separated from their families and remade as new adults. They emerge on the other side into a hallway (read: birth canal), as each must still confront their own dying childhood before they can join as full and equal partners. Hadley journeys to a bright, red-strewn celebration of life, while Oliver must enter a dark green commemoration of death, his fear driving him deeper to hide in another hallway. Here his mother comes to find him, begging him to emerge into life, but Ollie still can’t confront her death alone.

Thankfully, Hadley travels to this underworld to find him, bursting into the memorial like a bright red flower. Even the bruise metaphor works, acknowledging the pain they are both experiencing at the changes in their lives. But Oliver still refuses to face his fears, trying to take a shortcut around death to life with Hadley. Still, she knows he’s not ready (likely because she’s not yet, either), and gently pushes back. And so, Oliver returns to the underworld, and Hadley walks off alone until she descends barefoot through a soggy riverside tunnel (birth canal again!). Finally, she calls her father and admits she is “lost.” When he arrives, Hadley at last gathers the courage to ask why he ended their old life, and to tell him how much it hurt her. But as Oliver predicted, she forgives her dad and even begins to accept his new bride.

Back at the memorial, Oliver is reminded by Hadley’s red backpack - his unaddressed emotional baggage - to be honest about his pain. In at last openly mourning his mother and his own childhood, Ollie takes a step into adulthood, just enough for his family to nudge him that extra bit to go after Hadley. And so, the family delivers him to his bride, who has meanwhile learned to dance again, even through her heartbreak. With one last confession, the two consummate their love with a kiss, bathed in pink light before an open door.

Happily Ever After

There’s so much more, with the hand-holding, numbers, Shakespeare, Dickens, the music, and beyond, but the point is that this cute, charming little romance is actually very deliberately constructed. It follows timeless patterns and motifs which we instinctively understand through visual and auditory language. And the narration plays a huge role in this as well, not unlike the prologues and epilogues of the Bard’s plays in that they state the story’s lessons plainly: that we cannot always be prepared for unwelcome surprises, but that we can make the choice to love every day.

Anyway, Vanessa Caswill deserves all the flowers and if you haven’t seen her gorgeous adaptation of Little Women (with all due respect to the marvelous Greta Gerwig and Gillian Armstrong), please do yourself a favor and watch that after you finish this!

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missjanjie · 3 months ago

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Curtains Up | Chapter 1

Title: Curtains Up Summary: 'All of the pieces of the puzzle were there; now they had to turn their rough draft of their concept – a popular show with an all-female cast and crew – into something fit for a Broadway stage, and they had about a month to do it.' And once the show opens? No one could predict what happens next, but everyone is along for the ride, whether they like it or not. Word Count: 2614 Relationship(s): Lydori (Lydia B. Kollins/Kori King), Jankie (Jan Sport/Jackie Cox), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Anarcia (Anetra/Marcia Marcia Marcia), Jewelzie (Jewels Sparkles/Suzie Toot) Jasya (Daya Betty/Jasmine Kennedie) Rating: T Chapter Summary: In fair Manhattan where we lay our scene... It's day one of rehearsals, where we meet the main players in this story, and get a peek into what the future may hold for them.

Read on AO3

“Okay, Kori,” Lydia prompted, walking backward down an empty hallway as she filmed her girlfriend, “where are we, and what are we doing?”

Kori laughed softly, trying to split her focus between answering the question and making sure Lydia didn’t walk into anything. “We are in the studio for the first rehearsal with the full cast and crew, get into it.” She stopped in front of the door to the room they would be using and tapped on the sign. “Call time is at nine, it’s currently 8:45, so let’s see when everyone actually shows up.” She looked at the sheet and chuckled. “Of course, our stage manager, Jackie, got here five minutes ago.”

The two of them entered the room, the center empty with tables and chairs pushed off to the sides. There were sections for wardrobe and tech, but most things were in boxes, and Jackie was standing beside a stack of them, scribbling on her clipboard and muttering to herself with the occasional nod of approval. She looked up, startled when she realized the phone was pointed at her. “You’re starting that already?”

“I take my job very seriously, Jackie,” she replied. While the social media manager position wasn’t critical to the show itself, it was essential for establishing its presence in the social consciousness, which would hopefully reflect in ticket sales. Lydia wasn’t hired to work with her, but everyone had developed a fondness for the unofficial assistant manager, and the two quickly became a package deal.

The door opened moments later, and the lead actress, Marcia, walked in with her roommate and understudy (and overall swing), Jan. “8:49,” Kori noted, writing it down so she could edit it later.

8:51 - Rosé and Onya arrive one after another. Two minutes later, they were joined by the choreographer, Denali.

8:55 - Suzie opens the door for Anetra, carrying in her tech equipment with help from Daya.

9:00: Lana and Jewels arrive. Like Jan and Marcia, the pair shared an apartment and made the commute together.

9:02 - Symone was late for the first time, but she brought donuts, so she got a pass.

9:05 - Lexi runs in frantically, desperate to not be the last person to sign in. Being the last cast member bothers her, but she will be over it by lunch.

9:12 - Jasmine thought rehearsals started tomorrow. She is very sorry.

Once all of the cast and crew were signed in and ready, rehearsals went underway. At this stage of development, lines had been learned, songs had been scored. All of the pieces of the puzzle were there; now they had to turn their rough draft of their concept – a popular show with an all-female cast and crew – into something fit for a Broadway stage, and they had about a month to do it.

When it came time for the first break, everyone dispersed into their groups. Denali was the first to step outside for a smoke break, with Daya following soon after, the latter in a notably worse mood. “Got a light?”

“Here,” Denali passed her lighter over, her brows then knitting together. “It’s a little early into the game to look like you’re about to punch a hole in the wall. You wanna talk about it?”

Daya shrugged as she took a hit off her joint, exhaling deeply. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Jasmine’s just getting on my last nerve. The whole ditzy blonde might be cute to some people, but it’s like she just uses it as a cop-out whenever she fucks something up. Twenty-five years old is too old to be pulling that shit if you ask me.” After her lament, she added, “This is my first role on this level; I can’t afford to have any distractions.”

“She can be a lot,” she conceded, “I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose, though, just kinda scatterbrained. Probably has ADHD or something. I get where you’re coming from, but it seems like a ‘mind over matter’ type of thing.”

“That’s the only reason why I try not to be a bitch to her face. That and, like, team morale or whatever,” she mused with a dry laugh, taking another hit before her expression softened. “What about you, though? I can’t imagine working with your ex is all that fun.”

Denali shrugged. “I’m cool, but I guess it’s easier being the one who chose to end the relationship. Don’t get me wrong, Symone is an amazing person… It was just that our plans for the future didn’t align.” She felt an ache in her chest, a mix of guilt and sadness. “I think it’s best to just keep things as professional as possible for the time being.”

Daya leaned over the railing, staring out at the city before looking over at her. “I guess we could both stand to compartmentalize our feelings for the sake of the show.”

“Oh, so we’re using SAT words now?” She chuckled. “You’re right. At least it was a clean break. I heard Anetra’s divorce is still messy, her ex is doing everything she can to drag it out.”

“I guess crazy exes come in the lesbian variety, too.”

Denali chuckled and shook her head. “Honey, you don’t know the half of it. I’m pretty sure Symone is my only mentally stable ex.”

“That’s concerning, Denali.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

—

Jackie’s eyes scanned the expanse of the studio, making small notes and observations of everyone who came into her field of vision. Then there was Jan. Her gaze always went back to Jan, with her sun-lightened hair and warm brown eyes, her inviting smile, and infectiously upbeat demeanor. Looking at her felt like staring into the sun, but she couldn’t get herself to look away – she never could; it was her kryptonite.

“Is your lack of subtlety the reason why you chose not to pursue acting?”

The voice coming out of seemingly nowhere caused Jackie to startle and turn around, then let out a quiet sigh of relief when she realized it was just Rosé. Her first instinct was to go on the defensive, but it was clear that it was a moot point. “As long as I keep a healthy distance, it’s fine… right?”

Rosé chuckled softly. “Honey, with all the shows I’ve been in, I’ve seen and heard worse than whatever type of way you’re feeling about her.” Given that she was the most established of the cast, the recognizable name to the more casual Broadway fans, it wasn’t hard to believe. “I mean, she’s an adult, you don’t have a creepy age gap, and you’re not using your position to exploit her.”

Jackie quirked her brow. “Is the bar that low?” After a beat, she amended, “Never mind, we both know the answer to that.”

“For what it’s worth, this isn’t the first show I’ve done with Jan. She’s incredibly approachable, almost jarringly so. I’d say it’s worth shooting your shot. Even if she’s not into it, she’ll still be nice,” she suggested.

She hemmed and hawed for a moment, putting her feelings in as much of an analytical and pragmatic perspective as she could. “I suppose you have a point, it’s not the most precarious situation around. I’ll sleep on it.”

“It’s not even the most precarious situation in the room,” Rosé murmured under her breath as her gaze drifted over to the window where she could see Denali and Daya talking outside, then over to Symone sitting and scrolling through her phone. A knot of guilt made her stomach clench, but she did her best to swallow it.

“What do you mean?”

She waved it off, ever the actress with the ability to recover. “Don’t worry about it, it’s better to live in the present. Focus on how you’re going to make your move.”

—

Suzie looked at herself through her phone’s camera, stretching her neck out to examine it better. “What do you guys think?” She looked next to her, where Onya was putting Marcia’s hair into a French braid. “Do I need a touch-up?”

“I think you’re just rubbing it in our faces that you’re getting laid,” Marcia mumbled before assuring, “You’re fine, you’d have to get up real close to notice.”

“I promise that wasn’t my intention, but my defense, this is the only place I can talk about it.” When she received two perplexed stares in response, she elaborated, “The cast and crew here are the only people Jewels is out to, and I’m not gonna jeopardize any of her relationships because of a friends-with-benefits situation.”

“So you guys aren’t dating because of that? Isn’t most of her family still in Florida?” Onya asked.

Suzie’s face reddened, and she bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to choose her words carefully. “There are a lot of reasons, it’s complicated, and with social media, family can keep tabs on you from anywhere unless you keep all of your shit locked down. Besides, it’s not my place to say anything. I’m just gonna be there to support her if and when she wants to come out all the way.”

Marcia nodded understandingly. “Believe me, I understand putting romantic feelings aside for pragmatic reasons.” While her crush on Anetra was an open secret among cast members, they had collectively decided to cover for her. Even though they knew the head of tech had been separated for a couple of months now, the timing simply wasn’t right. That’s what she kept repeating to herself, anyway.

Suzie hesitated to add anything to the conversation at that point. Marcia had a better reason to keep her crush a secret on paper. Not only would it be inappropriate to pursue someone going through a tumultuous divorce actively, but Marcia had been catapulted into the Broadway spotlight, and a scandal like that could stop her rise to fame in its tracks.

But Suzie could overthink and ‘logically explain’ her way out of a paper bag, and this situation was no different. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone can blame you. Her service top energy matches your pillow princess one, after all.”

“Is it that obvious? Me being a pillow princess?”

“Yes,” Suzie and Onya answered in unison.

—

“Hey,” Symone greeted as she sat on the floor beside Anetra, who hadn’t taken her eyes off her phone since their break started. “How’s everything holding up?” While she did genuinely want to support her friend, there was a small part of her that took solace in someone having it worse than she did. As much as her breakup stung, it was still a clean break – no paperwork, no combined finances. Denali had moved all of her things out within a week. Maybe comiserating with Anetra would make her healing process easier to bear.

“‘Holding up’ is debatable at this point,” Anetra replied, her voice devoid of emotion. She sighed, allowing her unaffected expression to drop into one of exhaustion. “I swear, it’s like every time I think we’re making progress, she changes her mind or comes up with a new demand. I know it’s fucked up to say, but I almost wish she had cheated on me or something, ‘irreconciable differences’ has a whole lot of gray area since I can’t prove how unhinged she is.”

“Maybe she’ll snap eventually,” Lexi chimed in. “Crazy can only be contained for so long. That’s what my therapist said… Well, she didn’t say that, but it was implied.”

“And I’m sure she earns every dollar of your copay,” Symone replied with a laugh. “Still, she might be onto something – if your ex is as unstable as you’re saying, she’ll probably show her true colors sooner or later. She must have in front of you, at least, for you to decide to leave her, right?”

Anetra chewed on her lip for a moment. “Not no.” Her eyes darted around as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “There were signs, probably. But it did take her accusing me of cheating on her with my cousin to wake the fuck up.” She had to force the words out; the embarrassment of taking so long to figure out the obvious dragged the bitterness of anger through her throat and out of her mouth. She was smarter than this. She was better than this. How could she have been so blind? So naive?

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Lexi told her. “Love makes you do crazy things. I almost moved to France for a girl I was dating online for two months… Bitch, I don’t even speak French. She does still send me nudes sometimes, though, and they’re muy bueno.”

“That’s Spanish,” Symone pointed out.

Lexi waved it off. “Semantics.”

—

As the cast returned to rehearsing, Kori shifted her focus to editing the day’s video. While she didn’t take herself seriously in the slightest, she did take her work seriously and needed to make sure that her content lived up to her standards. But after a few moments, she found herself staring at her screen blankly.

Lydia glanced over, sensing her girlfriend’s frustration. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, running her fingers through her hair, hoping that by buying herself time, she would figure it out on her own. Alas, her efforts were in vain. “Does Symone spell her name with an i or a y?”

“Y,” she answered without looking up from her phone.

“Because I need to– oh, right, thank you.” Kori pointedly did not look up from her screen, knowing she would just see Lydia laughing at her. “Save it,” she preemptively warned, a small smile tugging at her lips nonetheless.

“Save it,” Lydia mocked, mimicking her cadence to a T, which caused both of them to laugh. “Do you have a specific content plan, or are you winging it?”

She shrugged. “Somewhere in between, I guess. I have some general ideas, but not in a ‘I’m going to film this video on this day and have it up at this time’ sort of way.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out – this is where you shine,” She cooed as she pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll be right back, gonna run to the bathroom.” With that, she pressed a kiss to her forehead and headed out of the studio.

“You guys are so cute together,” Jewels cooed as she sat beside Kori on the couch. “I’m kind of jealous,” she admitted.

Kori clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You wouldn’t need to be if you just asked Suzie out like a normal person. I don’t see what the big deal is – Miss Toot is not exactly the epitome of intimidating. I’ve met stray cats that are scarier.”

The young actress sighed as she dramatically sprawled her arms across the couch, her head tilting to rest on the back of it. “It’s not that I’m afraid of her. I’m afraid of my family. My parents, they’ve been through enough lately. I don’t know what coming out would do to them, to our relationship. I think I’ll know when the time is right. At least, I hope so.”

“Shit, I hope so too. ‘Cause all of this,” she gestured to her, “is a lot.” In a softer, kinder tone, she added, “I’m rooting for you guys, though. I think you’ll be cute together. Not as cute as me and my future wife, of course.”

Jewels sat up enough to face Kori, smiling softly. “You see you guys getting married someday?”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed off as she saw Lydia re-enter the room, her heart still fluttering when their eyes met, just like every time before. “Someday…”

#rpdr rpf #lydori #jankie #rosnali #jasya #anarcia #jewelzie #curtainsup

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kitasgloves · 1 year ago

Text

"Melting"

tracklist

— ♬ "Melting like an ice cream when you smile"

— ♬ Akaashi x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, neighbors to lovers, no beta

Moving into a new apartment complex marked a new journey in your life. A new journey means changes, and changes lead to adjustments, which truthfully you weren't a fan of. Somehow moving into your new place became a hassle, to be fair, you were doing all of the moving alone and you had a ton of stuff that held way too much sentimental value to get rid of. So, the first day felt like you were about to snap your spine in half.

"Three more boxes to go"

You groan as you settle a box in the living room. Sweat trickled down your face and your back as you went to fetch another of your boxes. As you reached to pick up the unsuspecting box, you didn't anticipate the weight it held that sent you almost stumbling back and losing your balance.

"Oof-"

Your body tilts backward with the box in hand when suddenly a pair of firm hands catch your shoulders, stopping you from falling. You momentarily freeze at the sensation of large hands keeping you in place.

"Are you okay?"

A deep but velvety voice sends your heart to a screeching halt. Your head whips around to be violently smacked in the face by the sheer beauty this stranger held. Gunmetal blue eyes, dark hair, thin-framed glasses, and a face sculpted by gods? Your breath hitches.

"Oh! I-uh..."

"Do you need help with your boxes?"

You were nearly about to decline until you bit your tongue and nodded to the handsome man. You stood there like an idiot gawking at this tall pretty guy carry two of your boxes inside your apartment without breaking a sweat. Oh, he must be packing under those layers of clothing. You shake your head hoping it will dust off the heat on your cheeks.

"Th-thank you for helping me out! I'm [Name] by the way"

"I'm Akaashi and you're welcome. Let me know if you need any more help"

He gives you a curt smile that makes your toes curl as you watch him retreat inside his apartment next to yours. Oh my god, this hot dude is your neighbor, talk about luck. When you enter back inside your place with tons of boxes to unload, that's when you begin to melt replaying the moment his hands held your shoulders.

Only weeks later your tiny crush on Akaashi developed further to full-on attraction that you're too shy to admit. Denial was futile not when he's so gorgeous and has a heart of gold. Akaashi makes you revert to a high school student giggling about their first crush. You're a grown adult yet you can't help but leave tiny notes on his mail whenever you pass by his door, like a student would to their crush's locker.

You are my church, you are my place of worship. I heard you're the plug, can I be the circuit?

When Akaashi finds this unusual note sticking out of his junk mail, he is perplexed. It was written in cursive and on pink paper...oh. He pauses. It almost resembles a deja vu moment. Nonetheless, it feels familiar and reminds him of when he was younger. Akaashi thinks if this note just happens to accidentally get mixed up with his mail. It was a possibility considering his name was not on the love note, or anybody's name for that matter. He scratches his head but discards the note under a stack of paperwork on his desk.

When I got court, I hope that you're the verdict. When you're around, my insides turn inverted

You delicately wrote on a piece of light pink paper with your fountain pen, it's been a while since you've written in cursive but you made an effort. You waited until the coast was clear as you snuck the folded note between Akaashi's daily stack of junk mail by his door before slipping off to leave and get groceries. Coincidentally, you meet him at the nearby supermarket. You go short-circuited when he offers you a smile and wave as you awkwardly return the gesture. God, you feel like melting again.

Take one look at you, you're heaven's incarnate. What is this spell, baby? Please show some mercy

Akaashi has been staring at this love note for thirty minutes already, unable to decipher what he felt. This was the third letter he had received and he had concluded that it wasn't accidental. Someone was intentionally sending him love notes. He tucks the note along with the others inside his favorite book and sits back. He feels like a high schooler contemplating their emotions after receiving their first confession in their locker. Akaashi has experienced this before and even politely rejected some of those love letters back in high school because romance wasn't a priority back then but now, he doesn't know what to do but wait until this secret admirer sends another note.

Melting like an ice cream when you smile. Melting, you're a daydream, stay a while

You're stuck in your apartment on a day of watching YouTube videos. Your search history was embarrassing. You recently snuck another note in Akaashi's mail and you're here praying you'll learn to be funny, so you're watching every stand-up comedy. You hoped that it'll at least rub off on you so Akaashi will smile at everything you say. You screamed against your hands, you truly felt like a frustrated teenager and hopelessly crushing on someone out of their league. But something in your heart tells you to persist or maybe you're delusional thinking your neighbor will return your feelings.

You got some soft lips and some pearly whites. I wanna touch them in the dead of night

For the first time, Akaashi smiles at the love note he has received. Albeit, small but visible. Something stirred in his chest that he had to double-take. He re-reads the note over and over again, he assumes that his secret admirer is a true romantic, and something about it makes his insides go fuzzy. He has zero clue about who could be giving him love notes, but god he wants to know.

Your smile ignites just like a candlelight. Then somehow, I know everything's alright

You wrote another letter and you were about to stick it in Akaashi's junk mail as always when you almost got caught. Thankfully, you slip the note in your pocket when Akaashi goes to pick up his mail, you pout, and you realize you're a second late to sneak your note. Your neighbor notices you and waves.

"Hi, [Name]"

"Hey, Akaashi"

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He asks you as you nod, curiosity burning through your eyes. Akaashi invites you into his apartment and stores away his mail. Your heart stops when he shows you the oh-so-familiar pink note, and your flight or fight instincts almost go off. But you stiffy sat there, hoping your oblivious facade wouldn't give anything away.

"So, I've been getting these love notes for five days straight and I don't have the faintest idea who could be giving me these"

Akaashi shows you the love notes you've been anonymously giving him and you pretend to inspect them while deep in thought.

"Hm, it could be one of our neighbors"

"I'm not close with anyone besides you, [Name]"

"Oh"

God, you hope the blush won't be evident on your face. You pretend to cough on your hand to cover your face as you try to make up an excuse to leave because you have no idea how long you'll last without crumbling in front of Akaashi.

"I'll let you know if I find someone suspicious"

"Okay"

Akaashi watches you leave his apartment, seemingly in a rush. He sighed and was about to sit back in his office when he noticed a folded pink piece of paper left on his couch, right where you sat. He holds his breath picks up the note and unfolds it to reveal the same cursive handwriting to his secret admirer. His mouth goes agape. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but if he were right and you were his secret admirer, he wouldn't be more glad.

"Shit! Where's the note?!"

You searched all your pockets to find the note you previously wrote for Akaashi but never got to drop it off missing. Then your sweat turns cold, did it slip from your pocket and land on Akaashi's couch? There is no way. You grabbed a nearby pillow and screamed against it. You were beyond mortified. That's it, you're moving places again, probably in another country. Preferably while also changing your clothes, your hair, your face, and your name. It was impossible to look Akaashi in the eye anymore once he found that note and discovered you're his secret admirer, you doubt the guy has feelings for you in the first place.

You hugged your pillow and frowned, you shouldn't have done that. When you're about to sulk in your room and play some sad music to help you make you feel even more pathetic, a knock on your door interrupts you. Your stomach drops, you know it is Akaashi. Great, just fucking great. Maybe you should jump out of your window and escape? Or maybe just ignore him until he goes away? Or maybe just face him like a grown adult. You sighed and swallowed your fear as you dragged your feet towards the door.

Astoundingly, Akaashi was standing at your doorstep with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You let out a silent gasp. Your neighbor was giving you a smile that never fails to make you melt.

"[Name]"

"Akaashi, what's...what's this about?"

"I know about the notes, I know it was you"

"Oh. But why give me [Favorite flowers]?"

"Because I want to give it a shot. I want to let you know that you also make me melt like ice cream when you smile"

Hold up, could someone pinch you awake holy shit this feels so surreal. You stumble over your words before ultimately letting out a laugh, there was no way that your delusions came true and that you have an actual fucking shot with Akaashi Keiji. He stands there patiently, waiting for your answer.

"Are...are you for real?"

"I wouldn't have gotten to know you and what flowers you liked if I didn't like you"

"Holy shit, yes!"

You squeal as you go over to hug Akaashi, almost knocking the bouquet out of his hands. He laughs and holds you securely in his arms while his heart pounded wildly against his ribcage. When you both pull away and he sees that perfect smile of yours he never gets tired of seeing every day, he feels beyond ecstatic, fuzzy, and most of all, he feels melting like ice cream.

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #Spotify

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