dharti123-blog

[coridotmp3]

"just picture yourself as the reader whether or not you're really like that" yes but also can i not have to picture myself as white for once

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[laroserie]

— Various x-men characters, with a queer ! reader

— characters ; Scott Summers. Jean Grey. Logan Howlett. Rogue.

— warning ; Reader is implied to be at the very least multisexual in general BUT it's very vague - reader is just not straight. Can be platonic or romantic depend. Include a 'when you come out to them section' but it's also just general headcanons. I included my personal hc about their sexuality. No one is homophobic or anything !

— note ; i said i'd something for pride and poof, there ( yes ... it's the 29th but better late than never! ), yes i do headcanons most xmen characters as multisexual, i wrote this at 3am so if some part doesn't make sense and all sorry

– Scott Summers.

Now, Scott is bisexual himself (with a little bit of self internalised homophobia) so he'd be very, chill, of course with you being queer. But he sometimes do say stuff that make your eyebrow raise, he isn't exactly the most informed, but he is still very respectful, just a bit clumsy. If you try to correct him on something he said and - or - 'correct' him, he will listen and keep that in mind.

Scott could be the type to start being more inclusive in his language once he knows, like he will say 'partner' or 'spouse' when asking you about your relationship. Or not ask about them at all ( if you aromantic for example ).

He probably accidentally out-ed you at some point, he doesn't think twice and just say what's he thought. He will very much apologize for that, and after the first time it never happens again.

When you come out to him, he gives you a simple 'okay, that neat' and a thumb-up. If you use a label/term he doesn't know, he may ask you about it but probably later, like a day or two, he'll come up to you and ask you 'hey, by the way, what does [label] means ?'.

– Jean Grey

Jean Grey, like Scott, is very chill about it. Sure, she doesn't know much about the community and she only knows the 'basic' terminology, but she still very much support you.

If you need to vent about issues related to your sexuality, she will be there, her arms are wild open for you and she has always a box of tissues on hand. She may not get everything, but she'll try to help you as much as she can, by simply comforting you or by trying to give you advice ( not necessary about the problem in itself, but about how to cope around it ).

Jean is absolutely the type to accompany you to pride, if you want her to of course, she is kinda like those straight mothers that accompany their kid to pride !

When you come out to her, she is the sweetest, she'll listen to you and assure you that it change's nothing to her.

– Logan Howlett

He doesn't gives a fuck, the man has seen all type of people thru the years, it's normal and he obviously accept anyone no matter their sexuality or genders but he just doesn't care that much ( my personal headcanon is that Logan is pan but let's be honest, he himself doesn't give a fuck about his sexuality ).

Logan probably goes to the pride parade once in while, depending on the city he in currently, and he'll probably accept to go with you to them - if it's your first, he'll try to keep you in sigh but if not and that you can be left alone and be okay, he will 'abandon' you and you'll only see him when it's time to leave.

When you come out to him, he looks at you and just drop a 'ok', he may add a 'thanks for telling me ?' if you are visibly confused by his answer.

– Rogue

She'd be very happy knowing you are queer too ! ( again personal headcanon that she is bisexual ) She thinks it's nice to have a friend whose also part of the community and if you are newer to it and the terminology, she'll try to teach you about them as best as she can.

If anyone is a bigot to you about your sexuality, Rogue will be there to comfort you about it and, maybe, perhaps, try to fight the person.

When you come out to you, she will be very happy that you have enough trust in her to tell her, she'll probably give you a big hug before asking you question about it ( like 'when did you know ??' but not in the intrusive weird way )

[ivystoryweaver]

for tender prompts: dancing to a slow jazz song after a long day of work

JAKE LOCKLEY :3

I Don't Dance

"Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own."

Thanks for this @runa-falls! Ahhhhh love it! Not me back on my "Jake listens to Miles Davis" tangent again...

for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024 for June 9th-15th: first time with the same sex, first kiss

1.4k words || Jake Lockley x m!reader* || flirting, roommates to lovers, slightly suggestive, vague mentions of food and drinking, language

*reader inclusivity notes: Reader wears glasses, is taller than Jake

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Life is good…enough.

Work can be a drag, but you look forward to coming home to your roommate Jake. Usually he's worked all night, slept all day, and the two of you meet up around dinner time. You're friendly roommates, always considerately cooking and making enough food for the other, keeping the dishes clean and playing video games together.

You have the most massive crush on the smaller man. He's gorgeous, with smoldering brown eyes and luscious dark curls, with a tinge of early gray...

You've never been with a man before. Just a few failed, awkward romances with women, a few years back.

But recently you've been realizing that you're not single because you're some sort of loser, or something equally upsetting. You're single because women actually just don't interest you, not as much emotionally, and not really at all sexually.

One time you heard Jake in his room with a partner, groaning and grunting in pleasure, his muffled voice telling his lover how to take him.

That was...eye-opening.

Now you think about him all the time, but you don't know how to tell him, and worse, if you even should tell him. He's way too cute for you...right? Cute doesn't begin to cover it - the man oozes confidence...experience...smolder.

He's really nice too.

He was gone for a few days, out of town "for work" (whatever that is). When he got back, he actually gave you a quick hug. "Missed you, man." You forgot to breathe for so long, it came out like a dramatic sigh once you did.

Jake wondered if you were annoyed, but instead, asked you to play video games. The sides of your arms touched the whole time, and you had to put a pillow over your lap because your obvious…attraction.

Jake senses the tension between you and wonders if you're mad that he finished the peanut butter and didn’t buy more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, your gaze flickering away. “No, I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Jake - especially not over peanut butter.”

He hums out an ambiguous response, dragging a hand over the sexy stubble on his chin. "You must've missed me then." His eyebrows shoot up playfully.

God you want him so bad.

As if your greeting hug and video-game-a-thon weren't enough, work the next day couldn't go worse. Sometimes you feel invisible to colleagues and especially to your boss, who seems to have completely ignored your inquiry about an open management position. After a day of being overlooked and passed over, you’re so done.

You finally make it home, drenched from a sudden shower that seemed to wait until you walked out of work to start, and decided to stop as soon as you made it through your front door. Shedding your wet jacket, you stamp your feet on the mat just inside the door, yanking off your fogged up glasses so you can wipe them clean.

Unfortunately, rain does not look good on you the way it does on Jake. If he comes home wet, he's something out of a noir film, removing his cap, pushing those long fingers through his perfectly damp, thick curls - droplets of water making his long lashes shine as they kiss his cheeks. Rivulets of rain snake down the corded thickness of his throat, disappearing into his deliciously drenched white shirt, which hugs the shape of his body temptingly.

Must be nice.

Maybe you can make it to your room before he sees you looking like a wet rat.

You shower and make yourself presentable enough, moving around your home quietly, afraid your pathetic-ness will somehow repel your roommate - secretly crushed that Jake doesn't interact with you for an hour or so. Maybe he doesn't notice how brutal your day was.

A delicious aroma wafts down the hall from the kitchen a while later and you realize Jake is cooking dinner. Deciding you'd rather be in his presence than mope in your room, you venture out to interact. Dinners with Jake are the highlight of your life after all - that is, when you're not sitting with him, touching him, playing games together.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, remembering to take things one day at a time. He might not even be into guys. Or you specifically.

Jake looks up as you enter the kitchen, dark eyes brightening, but somehow immediately softening at your apparent distress. Your shoulders sag in defeat even as you put on a brave face to greet him.

Usually he leaves you alone when you're quiet, assuming you prefer it that way, but after you sat together all last night, he thought maybe...

Setting down a wooden spoon and reducing the heat underneath a sizzling skillet, he turns to you, and your heart races as you realize he's giving you his full attention. It's not helping that he's wearing an apron - that sight alone might kill you.

"You okay?" Dark eyebrows arch curiously as he boldly inches forward.

Blowing out an exhale through your lips, you quickly nod, realizing that simple inquiry means more to you than anything.

Reaching out to grasp your forearm, he peers up at you earnestly. "Hey...talk to me."

You force a smile as your 'brave face' wavers. "Just a shit day. Nothing really."

He pulls a face of his own - a smirk curling the corner of his kissable lips. He's got to stop doing that or you're going to fall head over heels. (Too late).

"Okay, then," he relents, meandering over a few cabinets to where you keep the booze. Jake pours you a drink to settle your nerves, presenting it to you with a comedic flourish, as if you are his liege lord and he's your servant. Eh, probably just a fantasy of yours...

You chuckle, muttering, "thanks," as he brushes past you, disappearing into the living room to turn on the record player. Jake is a mystery, but his collection of albums might be the most sexy thing about him.

Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own.

You toss your drink back in a couple of long gulps, hoping to gain some proverbial liquid courage as Jake returns to his task, reaching for the wooden spoon to stir.

"Thanks for the drink," you say, bravely moving closer, bumping arms with him. "Need some help?"

Setting the spoon back down, he turns a smoldering gaze your way. "Dance with me."

You almost choke. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me." He roughly whispers. Tugging at the string of his apron, he pulls it loose and sets it on the countertop, leaving him in a tight, white t-shirt and joggers which rest on the swell of his hips. Offering his hand, he repeats, "Dance with me."

Your body responds, seemingly without permission from your brain as you take his waiting hand - the contact zinging up your arm, electrifying you. "I-I don't dance."

He hums out a knowing chuckle, eyes sparkling at the challenge. "Everybody can dance, here." Boldly gripping your hand, he eases your arm around his waist, giving you an out before going too far. "Stop me if I fuck this up." He pulls you closer than you expected, his breath ghosting your cheek.

"Jake..."

"Am I getting this wrong?" He asks you seriously, sounding a bit nervous - his voice pinched even as he possessively cinches you closer. "I...want you and I feel like you want me too, but...fuck, if I'm wrong, please don't kick me out."

You can't believe this is truly happening. How is this man actually real - how is he touching you, saying these things? And moreover, why are you not responding?

Afraid you might cry or something humiliating, a breathless laugh rushes out of you, cutting the tension. "I'm not gonna kick you out."

Soulful jazz crescendos, soothing the surge of worries threatening to ruin this moment, and before you can overthink - as you do - you pull him closer. "Come here..."

Your heart stops when he lays his head on your chest, almost causing you to forget to dance, but you realize, in that moment, that you trust his lead. You believe his words - at least your body does, and you sway to the music, moving in synchrony with this man you adore.

And as you wonder if the stars have aligned and you might really have a chance with him, he tilts his head up and presses his mouth to yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake Lockley-Centric stories

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updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 13 - The Birthday)

6.1K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din attend Boba Fett’s birthday gala.

Warnings: Brief description of violence (I won't tag it to avoid spoilers, but the action happens within the chapter and isn't an past incident being described), brief description of blood/wound (nothing explicit or too descriptive), fluff, established relationship, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, etc.), reader is described as shorter than Din and he lifts her off her feet once.

A/N: I made the title picture and did my best to crop and filter the dress so that it remains as inclusive as possible. As a new writer, being inclusive with the written word isn't something I have very much practice with, but much like writing smut, in order to get better, I will have to practice. I'm trying to be more mindful (ex. avoiding blushing) and it is my intention to go back and edit previous chapters to be more inclusive; at the very least, I'll be tagging more descriptions if needed. Thanks for being patient with me as I learn and improve and as always for reading!

Series Masterlist                                                                                   

"How are you single?"

It’s not a serious question; you and Din have already shared your respective dating histories, including lessons of love lost, lessons learned, hopes renewed.  You pose the question, completely unserious, an enthusiastic response to his suggestion that the two of you turn on the Korean dating show that you had been watching at the nail salon.  You and Lala had gone to get your nails done after brunch, and Din stopped by to pick you up, bringing both you and Lala, and your manicurist, coffees.  He patiently sat next to you as Mary polished your tips, and you and Lala chatted while watching the foreign language reality show the salon had selected.  From the corner of your eye, you noticed that Din had become engrossed in the show as well, but never said anything.  Apparently, since leaving the salon mid-episode, you’ve both been equally eager to find out who the contestants chose for their “Paradise” dates.

“Just your luck, I guess,” he quips, planting a quick kiss on your nose as you unlock your front door. 

Al looks up from the couch as you come in, and deducing that you’re coming his way, decides he doesn’t need to dignify getting up for pets.  Flopping down on the couch and vigorously rubbing your dog’s head, you turn on the TV and scroll to the part of the episode you were watching when your nail appointment ended.

Din throws his arm around you so he can give Al some scritches as well, and says, nonchalantly, “And I suppose there hasn’t been anyone that I thought would pass Boba’s inspection.”

“Boba’s inspection?” you exclaim, aghast.

“Well, no, not like an inspection, more like he likes to meet the people dating… well, really anyone in the family, to see if it’s a good… fit,” his voice trailing off at the end when he sees the horrified look on your face.

“I have to get a mob boss’ permission to date my boyfriend??!?!” 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘permission’.”

You look pointedly at Din, “So like, his… approval?”

Din tries a different tactic, “I don’t know why you’re worried, pretty bird.  How could he not love you?  You’ll pass with flying colours.”

“Pass??! Is there a date set for this test?”

“… no?”

Sitting up straight, you tilt your head in annoyance, “Din Djarin.”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to be my date to Boba’s birthday party gala in two weeks.  It’s a big event, hundreds of people are invited, very formal, very fancy.  I thought it might be a nice time for the two of you to meet.”

You don’t say anything, mind already swimming with anxiety.

“There will be dancing.  Lots of dancing,” Din pokes at you, “and it’s a white party, so maybe you might like it if I took you shopping for a new dress?”

You make a silly face at Din, because you know he already expects your response, “No, no, I can pay for my own dress, Din.  It’s formal… like black tie?”

Din can see your brain already switching to planning mode, “Yes, I think that’s what it’s called?  I have to wear a white tuxedo jacket and a black bow tie.”

“Have to?”

“Yes, Fennec had a meeting with all the Mandos about dress code yesterday,” grimaces Din, “Just because you’re working the event doesn’t mean you will look like staff.”

You giggle.  Din’s told you about Fennec Shand before; Boba had saved her from the brink of death after some coward shot her point blank in the stomach after a mugging.  Boba had also tracked down the punk and made him pay tenfold while she was still in the hospital recovering from surgery; a surgery that Boba paid for.  Once fully recovered, Fennec declared her intention to fulfill what she considered a blood debt, and became Boba’s right-hand woman as he rose to power.  Fiercely loyal with a strategic mind that rivaled most army generals, she was the decisive and fearsome consigliere that Boba needed.  She was also secretly, his wife.  Din told you in confidence that Boba and Fennec had quietly fallen in love and married years ago, though few knew about it.   Din only knew because his father had been the witness at the courthouse nuptials.  Outwardly, they maintained the stoic, no nonsense appearance of boss and advisor for their own privacy and also for their protection, removing the temptation for anyone to use their relationship against them. 

You have to admit, you’re sort of curious to see this dynamic for yourself.  And the prospect of seeing Din in a tux holds its own special appeal. “Ok, let me see if any of the girls want to go dress shopping with me on Wednesday,” you pick up your phone and start typing as Din presses a loving kiss to your head.

You step out of the cab in front of the Coruscant Plaza Hotel, careful to gather the skirts of your dress so you don’t step on them as you make your way to the carpeted entrance of the hotel.  As your heels touch the covered staircase, you drop the fabric and let the soft satin pool at your feet and flow outward as you walk towards the host at the podium.  You give a little wave to Paz who’s standing sentry at the door before handing your invitation over to the man checking your name off the guest list; he uses a blacklight to reveal the invisible bar code on the back and scans it to finish your check in before welcoming you to the party.  You immediately bound up the rest of the stairs to hug Paz.

“Looking good, Lil’ Lady,” says Paz, as he envelopes you in a big bear hug.

“Same, same to you,” you grin. 

Due to the importance and scale of tonight’s event, Din’s help with security was required and you weren’t able to arrive together; in fact, you haven’t seen him all day, so by now, you’re vibrating with excitement to see him all dressed up, and for him to see you in your dress.  Paz nudges you gently and whispers, “Turn right at the front desk and he’ll be in the big ballroom at the end of the hall.” 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek as thanks, and tell him you’ll see him later as you head in.  The lobby of the hotel is filled with people, all dressed beautifully and very on theme: the women in elegant and expensive looking white outfits and adorned with bright, sparkling accessories, the men all very dashing in white formalwear.  You yourself have on a minimalist white satin gown, with a wide off the shoulder cuffed neckline; the pleating around the middle flatters your waistline before flaring out elegantly into a full skirt.  The skirt is free flowing and light, concealing your favourite part: a mid-thigh slit that runs up the middle front; only on display when you’re moving swiftly, say, when dancing.  It’s actually a wedding dress, but you won’t tell Din that.  After describing to the girls what you were imagining for a dress, Rory had told you to just come down to her work as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which in retrospect, it probably was.  No one aside from her closest friends and co-workers would be able to guess that the gruff and intimidating Rory was actually an incredibly successful bridal consultant, one of the most sought after in the city, in fact.  Just from listening to you detail what you wanted once, she was able to pull the exact dress you’re wearing tonight from the rack, get you in for a fitting the next day, with the alterations done within the week.  When you told Rory she was your hero, she had brushed it off like it was nothing, which to her it probably was; but to you, this dress is everything.

Din spots you before you spot him, such is the advantage of having the high ground.  The ballroom is grand, easily accommodating a thousand people; half the room has been set-up with round dining tables with opulent centre pieces and fine dinnerware, ready for the guests to feast.  The remaining half is left open for stand-up cocktails and schmoozing and for dancing later; at this end of the room there is live band playing light jazz at the base of a double staircase that leads up to the second floor.  These symmetrical staircases connect at an elegantly railed landing that serves as the entry point for the second-floor mezzanine balcony that encircles and overlooks all of the ballroom below.  It’s on this landing that Din currently stands, chatting with Boba, Fennec, Poe and his wife Lisa; Woves and Brian stand guard a little further behind, and although out of sight, Bo and Santos are also on the mezzanine, ensuring that no one tries to come in via the locked second floor entrance.  From this vantage point, Boba can see everyone who comes in, who they’re with, and who they’re talking to, which is of course, the point. 

When Din sees you, he feels the breath knocked out of his lungs by how stylish and stunning you look; to him, you're easily the most beautiful the woman in the room.  He watches you stride effortlessly across the ballroom floor like you’re used to attending grand events every day, your dress floating around you in an almost dreamlike fashion, turning heads as you go by.  The dress fits you perfectly.  Your alluring curves accentuated by the garment’s simple design, enticing him even though you’re not showing much skin; save for the flash of leg that peeks out through a high slit that he’s only now noticing as you move through the crowd scanning for him.  He can’t take his eyes off of you.

“Go to her and bring her up here with us,” says Boba, a knowing smile at seeing Din so awestruck.  Din is gratified by Boba’s request, bringing a non-family member up to the private gathering normally a security risk he himself would advise against; Boba’s invitation is an extension of his trust and love for Din, and how eager he is to meet the woman Din is clearly besotted with.  Just as Din heads down to collect you, you’re turning your pretty face up and smiling at the group.  Poe has been waving enthusiastically, both of his arms gesturing wildly over his head, and you had caught the movement out of the corner of your eye, leading you to look to the top of the staircase.  But it’s Din that holds your attention once you spot him. 

He's wearing a white tuxedo jacket that’s fitted to his frame perfectly, sharply hugging his broad shoulders and hard chest.  As dashing as this jacket and his pressed black dress pants make him look, it’s really his tousled curly hair falling across his forehead and slightly askew black bow tie that have you forgetting how to breathe for a moment.  He’s a fucking dreamboat.  When you make eye contact, a devastating smile spreads across his face, framed handsomely by his salt and pepper scruff.  You don’t care how it looks to the dignified guests that are milling around the ballroom, you gather your skirts to pick the fabric off the ground and make hurry towards the staircase, so eager to be with him.  Din sees you break out into a semi-jog and quickens his steps down the stairs to meet you, not wanting to wait a second longer than necessary to feel you in his arms. 

You meet just two steps away from the bottom of the stairs, your arms flying up around Din’s neck, his hands meeting your waist; you’re lifted slightly as he gives you a little twirl before setting you down gently and pressing his lips to yours, “You look beautiful, pretty bird.”  You beam at him and place both your hands on the sides of his face, running your thumbs through his facial hair that you love so much, “You’re a total knockout, Din.”  He blushes a little at your compliment.  Holding one of your hands above your head, he gives you a little spin, accompanied by a low whistle before offering up his arm for you to hold, “You’ve been invited up.  Are you ready to meet Boba?”

A look of sheer panic flashes over your face before you take a deep breathe, compose yourself and take Din’s arm; he places his hand over yours and walks you up the stairs.  You whisper, “What happens if he doesn’t like me?  Do we have to break-up?”

“Yes,” Din whispers back, grinning.

You punch him in the shoulder with your free hand, and he laughs loudly but drops his voice to reassure you, “You don’t have anything to worry about, he’ll love you.  I love you.  Poe loves you.  Look, he’s talking you up right now.”

You look up in horror, “I’m doomed.”  Din leans over to kiss you and the two of you share a chuckle in this final private moment before reaching the landing.

Din makes the introductions and you shake hands with everyone except Poe who gives you a big hug; you try not to let his hug linger and give his wife what you hope is a friendly smile. 

Boba is… impressive. 

Size wise, he’s shorter than Din, roughly the same height as Poe, but he’s… solid.  Built like a rugby player; you can tell he’s a wall of muscle under his tuxedo and he has the presence of a man who dominates and commands.  More than that, he exudes a quiet but authoritative charisma and carries himself like a man that’s listened to.  What strikes you the most though is the resting expression of his face.  He seems weathered.  Experienced.  And his eyes are wise but not unkind.  When his face finally changes, it’s to an expression of curiosity, which shouldn’t seem intimidating, but somehow is.  Like he’s studying you, trying to find the answer to a question you didn't know was asked, and you somehow know that whatever answer he arrives at will be acknowledged as truth.  The thing about Boba that makes you the most nervous though, is not any of this, and not even that he’s a mob boss (something you don’t think you really understand anyways), but it’s that he is a father-like figure to Din.  This is a man who helped raised Din.  He trusts Din and Din trusts him.  He’s a big part of who Din is today.  And yet, these very same thoughts are also the ones that calm you, and immediately endear him to you. 

With a rush of warmth towards the man, you wish Boba a very happy birthday, and shyly produce a small gift box from your purse, no bigger than a ring box.  Din is surprised, as is Boba; gifts aren’t expected from guests, but when they are given (and many do give), they’re usually opulent and extravagant, often monetary in nature.  Din didn’t know you had prepared anything.  Amused, Boba lifts the lid of the box and pulls out a small jade figurine. 

“Din told me that you rescue pit bulls, so I had this carved from some jade that I’ve held on to for something special.  Some say jade protects and heals, promotes balance and harmony, so I thought it might be nice for your birthday,” you finish, uncharacteristically timid.  Din is looking at you with astonishment and something close to veneration.

Boba holds up the little dog figurine to the light and admires it; Fennec leans over to look at it too and says, almost with wonder, “Looks like Mochi.”

“It really does.”

You nod, “Din showed me a picture of your dogs.  Mochi is the littlest one?  The white one?  I asked them to use him as reference.”

“Mochi is the smallest, but he’s been with me the longest,” says Boba fondly, “Took him out of a fighting pit myself.  Scrappy little guy.  Total love bug.”

Boba looks at the carving wistfully for a moment longer before placing it gently back in the small box and placing it in his pocket; his eyes are bit shiny when he holds out his arms to you, “Thank you, my dear.  I love it.”  You look over Boba’s shoulder as you embrace him and see Din smiling brightly at you.  Boba invites you stay on the landing with the group, and you find yourself becoming more and more charmed by the man.  He asks you about Al, Din clearly having shared some information about you, and you bond further over your mutual love of dogs.  He takes great joy in pointing out interesting guests filtering into the ballroom below; you’re dizzy from the caliber of the guests: there’s the mayor and several city council members, the chief of police, bankers, partners from big law and financial firms (Do you see your boss’ boss’ boss?!), several members of the city’s professional baseball and hockey teams, and you think you even catch a glimpse of a few pop stars.  Poe has stories about every notable guest and regales your group non-stop so you’re all laughing, even Lisa. 

When it grows close to the dinner hour, Boba sees Paz standing at the foot of the stairs and announces that it’s time for him to go down and hobnob with a few guests before food service starts; as he, Poe, and Din move to descend to the main floor, Din places his hands gently on your face and leans in to tenderly kiss you, letting you know he has to go with Boba, and asks if you’re okay to stay here with Lisa.  You nod, just now remembering that Din is working tonight. 

You and Lisa chat amiably as the men weave through the crowd, Boba glad handling guests and making everyone feel welcome.  When you feel like she’s warming up to you a bit, you tell Lisa how nervous you were to meet Boba, and her expression softens, “You’re doing totally fine, hun.  Honestly, when he saw Din running down to you, it was a done deal.  Boba loves Din like a son.  Poe loves him like a brother.  We haven’t seen Din this happy in a long time.”  You smile gratefully at her, feeling yourself getting emotional.  This cinches it for Lisa and she decides to take you under her wing, pointing out some of the other guests the men hadn’t mentioned earlier and giving you the tea on the whose who of the family, how they’re related, if they’re related, past and present petty feuds, and tidbits of any scandal.  You’re having so much fun, the two of you gossiping and giggling like old schoolmates, you don’t even notice that Din has returned until his strong arms wrap around your waist and his scruff is tickling you behind your ear as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Come on, pretty bird, it’s time to eat.”

You turn to head down the stairs, but Din chuckles and takes your hand, leading you towards the mezzanine, “You eat up here with us, baby.”

Hidden second floor doors are opened to reveal several large but intimately set rooms, all interconnected, each hosting beautifully set dining tables and fully staffed bars.  People that you assume are close friends of Boba or somehow part of the Fett family (you try very hard to correctly recall the details of everything Lisa shared with you) file in and greet each other like old friends before selecting their seats.  Boba holds court at a large table at the centre of the room you’re in, laughing joyously and raising his glass over and over as Fennec sits poker-faced by his side.  You sit at a table with Din, Poe, Lisa, Paz and a few guys that Poe seems to know well.  Always appreciative of a familiar face, you wave when you see the other Mandos standing guard, or filtering in and out the rooms and between tables, and you hope they get a chance to eat too.  The food is incredible, Boba truly spared no expense; delicious plates of appetizers, salad, pasta, grilled meats, seafood keep appearing, a never-ending parade of delicacies.  When you see poor Jimmy practically drooling at the T-bone that Poe leaves untouched on his plate, you take to buttering some bread and slipping the rolls to the Mandos that walk by.  Dinner is lovely, the company and conversation is lively; you really couldn’t feel more comfortable, especially with Din non-stop doting on you. 

When the main dinner service is finished and the dessert carts start making their rounds, you hear the music downstairs kick up in volume and finally, the hungry Mandos take turns sitting down at your table shoveling food into their mouths from plates piled high.  The atmosphere is relaxed, the mood of everyone in these private rooms is festive and merry, though lowkey compared to the wild sounds of partying you can hear floating up from below.  Full and proud of yourself for having not spilled on your white dress, you’re tapping your spoon on the top of your crème brulé when you feel, rather than see Din stiffen next to you; the hand that had found the slit of your dress, pressing down on your thigh where it had been casually resting.

“Pretty bird, get down,” he whispers.  To your eye, there’s nothing amiss with the scene, you see a few people standing around the room chatting, drinks in hand.  Several people are at the bar, others lounging back in their chairs or milling in between rooms.  Everyone is smiling and looking like they’re having a great time… wait, not everyone…

You slide off your chair down to your knees the second that Din requests, never questioning him, and he immediately yells, “GET DOWN!” Din and Paz stand in unison and move as one unit, years of partnership and trust kicking in as they wordlessly communicate where the danger is and what needs to be done.  Every Mando in the room moves a split second later, following their fearless leaders in flawlessly executing maneuvers to identify, subdue, protect without any verbal commands to do so.  Paz heads straight for Boba, with Jimmy, Woves and Bo following; the shooter gets one shot off just as Paz tackles him to the ground, puts up a futile effort to wrestle for the gun before the submitting to the Mandos that pin him to the ground.  The second shooter doesn’t even get that far, not even raising his arm to shoot before Din takes him out from behind; Din’s elbows and fists make quick work of the intruder, bringing him crashing to his knees before Din’s strength forces him to release the gun with a yelp.  Din swiftly kicks the gun away before restraining the gunman on the floor, knee on his back, arms held and secured.  The whole thing is over in a manner of seconds, no one screams and the party downstairs doesn’t even register the gunshot, music still playing loud and uninterrupted.

Din looks over at you, panting as he pulls the offender to his feet; you give Din a little nod and what you hope are soft eyes to let him know you’re okay.  You see the relief in his eyes before he starts to haul the struggling man out of the room, following Paz and the other Mandos.  You’ve never seen him in action before and frankly… it was extraordinary.  Sure, you’ve seen Din spar in the ring at the gym, but that was nothing compared to the display of speed, determination and force that you just saw.  The way he knew exactly what to do and wasted no movement, every strike and application of strength purposeful and effective, and even the way he sensed that something was wrong before anyone else did, you can see why Din had been Boba’s top enforcer for so many years.  You find yourself filled with awe and pride.

After helping Lisa to her feet and leaving her with an amped up Poe, you hurry over to Boba’s side when you see a red stain blossoming on his upper left shirt sleeve, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, dear.  It’s just a scratch,” he smiles when he sees your dubious look.

Fennec reappears with a first aid kit in her hand, but doesn’t sit or open the kit.

“You can go with the Mandos, I know you want to,” says Boba softly.

Fennec hesitates, eyes shifting between Boba’s arm and the doorway through which the Mandos had dragged the would-be assassins, torn.

You hold out your hands for the kit and volunteer supportively, “I can help.”

Boba gives Fennec a small nod, and she cautiously hands you the first aid kit before leaving to join the Mandos.

Opening the kit to see what you’re working with, you say to Boba with a little bit of embarrassment, “I think we’ll have to get that arm out of your shirt.”

To your surprise, Boba nods and then proceeds to rip the sleeve clean off of his shirt with his other hand, leaving his bleeding arm bare.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to do it,” you chuckle.  Finding an unused dinner napkin still folded in its pretty crown shape, you wet it with water from the pitcher on the table.  “I’m just going to clean away all the blood first, sorry if it stings,” you say as you hold up the cloth to Boba’s arm.

“No worries, darling girl. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, I bet.  Are people always trying to kill you?” you ask in what you hope is a teasing voice.

“Probably.  But the Mandos don’t let usually them get this close,” ponders Boba, “Din and Paz have trained them very well.”  You smile at this, and when Boba sees the proud look you have on your face, he smiles back too, “Whoever did this took advantage of the party, the crowd, everyone having a good time.”  You nod as you lean back to survey the wound now that all the excess blood has been cleaned off.  It’s not too bad, a graze, really.  A deep graze, but it doesn’t look like it needs stitches.  It needs a good cleaning, some pressure and then you think a thick covering of gauze should stop it from bleeding through to Boba’s white dinner jacket.  You let Boba know the game plan as you open an antiseptic wipe, “This is going to sting for sure.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.  You’re quite adept at this.  Does Din have you stitch him up?”

Lightly laughing, you shake your head, “No, he doesn’t really like me to see him hurt.  I think he thinks I have a tender heart.”

Nodding with an air of understanding, Boba says gently, “I think you do.  That’s what makes you a good match for the boy.  He doesn’t look it, but Din has a tender heart, too.”

You look up at him and beam at that, “He really does.  I feel like he’s always taking care of other people.  He takes such good care of me.  I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.”  You finish with the wipe and open a large-size sterile gauze pad to place over the wound, “Put some pressure on that please.”

While you wait for the bleeding to stop, you look around the room.  It’s fairly empty now; most of the Mandos left earlier of course, leaving only a few still standing guard (Brian, Woves, Iggy), but the remainder of the guests seemed to have filtered out as well, putting some distance between themselves and the incident, rejoining the party that you can hear is still in full swing.

“Do you really think I’m a good match for Din?”  You’re not sure why you’re asking a man you barely know for his opinion on your relationship, except that you know this man means a great deal to the man that you love.

Boba looks thoughtful at your question, “Din’s a natural leader, he’s strategic, good at understanding the nature of people and seeing the big picture.  In our line of business, this can be an asset but also spell trouble, or at least lead to people handling power very poorly.  But not Din, he never sought power.  Too selfless.  He’s always put family first, and understood that being the head of the pack just means taking care of the pack.  Not a lot of men would have given up their position in an organization like ours to take care of their father, but for Din it was a no brainer – he’s always taking care of others." 

"His father and I used to always worry if it was possible for Din to meet someone who was just as selfless as him, who would take care of him equally and ease some of the burden he takes upon himself being responsible for so many others – or if he would ultimately settle for quite happily taking care of his partner like he does so many others.”

You can’t help it, a few tears prick the corner of your eyes.  Yes, Boba is describing your Din to a T; your Din, always being the giver, the caretaker, the protector, and not expecting or requiring the same treatment back.  A tear escapes and rolls down your face and you look down to brush it away quickly under the guise of looking through the first aid kit for the gauze wrap.

When you look back at Boba to remove his hand from his wound, he’s smiling at you and your poor attempt to conceal your emotions, “Yes, I think you’re the former.  Yes, I think you’re a good match for him.”

Welp, that does it.  Your tears spill over, fast and overflowing so that you cannot wipe them away quickly enough while pressing a new pad to the wound and wrapping it to Boba’s arm with the gauze roll.  So you don’t.  You just smile softly while focusing your attention on dressing Boba’s wound, letting the tears slow and fall more gently down your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say in a quiet voice.

“No, thank you,” returns the older man, just as quietly and you know he means for more than bandaging him up.

You’re just securing the ends of the gauze when Din bursts back into the room; he must have been expecting a different scene than what he comes upon, because he instantly relaxes when he takes in the quiet room, only to become alarmed at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks.

“What’s the matter, pretty bird?”  Din looks so concerned as he kneels down beside you, you can’t help as a few more tears fall at the sight of him being so caring and protective, exemplifying what you and Boba had just been discussing.  You try to give him a reassuring smile, “Everything is fine.  Well maybe not Boba’s arm, but it should be soon.”  Din looks up to find the mob boss giving him a similar smile, “What do you have for me?”

Din stands up and leans in to whisper into Boba’s ear.  You don’t hear what he says, but you catch Boba muttering, “Crymorah?” while furrowing his brow in confusion.  Din steps back when he’s done, “Fennec’s still in there.  They’re ready for you.”

Boba gets up and you do as well, instinctively you grab his tuxedo jacket from the back of his chair and hold it up for him; he slips it on easily, though you can tell it’s not without some pain.

He pulls his lapels taught and puffs his chests out, looking at you, “How do I look, my dear?”

He’s trying to make you laugh, and it’s working, “Absolutely ferocious.  Blood-thirsty.  Not at all shot.”  Your eyes shining with mischief.

“Perfect.”  Boba gives your arm a little squeeze, then nods to Din, “You two go back and enjoy the remainder of the party.  Keep an eye on the perimeter, and let anyone know who’s asking that I’ll be out to rejoin the party in 20 minutes.  And above all… have fun.”  After Boba exits with Woves and Brian, Din sweeps you up into his arms and rests his head against your forehead, “Are you really okay, baby?  Why are you crying?”

You tell the truth, “Boba and I were just talking about what a good guy you are.”

“A mob boss telling my girlfriend that his former head enforcer is a good guy?  I don’t know if that’s a reliable source,” jokes Din.

“I dunno,” you say, unable to bite back a grin, “he seems like one of those trustworthy mob bosses.”

“You like him,” Din marvels.

“I do.  He’s kind.  Like you,” you smile adoringly up at Din as the two of you start to head back to the party.

Before you descend the stairs, Din turns you towards him, placing his hands affectionately on either side of your face and leans in so you can hear him over the music, “Pretty bird, how are you feeling about what happened?  I know you must have been scared.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head up for a kiss, which Din happily obliges.  When you open your eyes, you’re nothing but honest, “I think I should have been.  But I wasn’t really.  You told me to get down, you took care of me and even though I didn’t know what was happening, I knew I was safe because you were there.  Din.  You were incredible.  How did you move so fast?  And you took care of that guy like it was nothing.  He never even stood a chance.”

Din blushes at your praise, and rubs his hand on the back of his neck, bashful, “Was lucky.  Don’t move as fast as I used to.”

You won’t let him have any of that, “Luck had nothing to do with it.  You were in total control of the situation the moment you sensed something was up.  You were… magnificent, Din.” You exhale and look at him with admiration your eyes.  Din feels overcome, your praise means everything – even though you had an idea of what he did as a Mando, he had secretly feared that you would recoil from the type of violence he saw regularly if you were to ever encounter it yourself, or worse, recoil from him if you saw him inflict it.  But here you are, telling him he makes you feel safe and not letting him brush over his capabilities and skill.  He pulls you in for a deep kiss, not ever wanting to part his lips from yours, imploring you to open your mouth to his so he can show his appreciation for you, and how you understand and love all of him, through the way his tongue worships you.

*Woooooooooo!!*

Breaking apart, you look down to see Poe and Lisa grinning up at you from the bottom of the stairs, Poe cheering and Lisa waving her hands at the two of you to come down and join the party.  Laughing, you and Din readily join in the fun and dance to the fast tempo number and the next and next, the incident upstairs pushed to the back of your mind.

Later, after Boba has come down to rejoin the party, and Fennec and the Mandos having reappeared to mill around the perimeter of the ballroom, you sway in Din’s arms to a slow song, tired; Din whispers in your ear, “See, told you Boba would love you.  Everyone loves you.”

“Not everyone,” you murmur.

“Oh really?  Name one person who doesn’t like you.”

“Ummm… that guy in the grey suit who spilled coffee all over himself at the coffeeshop the day we met.”

“Hmmm yeah, ok, that guy.  You know, if I ever see that guy again…”

You rest your chin on his chest and look up at Din, eyes twinkling.

“…I’m going to buy him a coffee and give him the biggest thank you.  If it wasn’t for him, we might not have ever met.”

Snuggling back into his chest, you nod, “If you can catch him.  He’d probably run, road runner style if he ever saw you again.”

“Was I very scary that day?”

“A beast.  Terrifying.  A Mythosaur come to life,” you chide, but soften at Din’s imploring face, “but not to me.  I knew immediately I was safer with you there, even though I didn’t know you yet.  I never told you that?”

“Never.  I’m glad you felt that way.  I’m always going to keep you safe, pretty bird. I love you so much.”

“I know, Din.  Love you, too.”  You close your eyes and nestle back into his chest, enjoying the music and the strong flex of the arms holding you.

[bigtreefest]

From Both Ends

Pairing: Curtis Everett x reader one-shot (Modern AU)

Summary: Work and physical stress are adding up, until they spill over. It’s a good thing your sweet, understanding boyfriend is there to help clean you up however he can

Word count: 1,804

Content/warnings: this is mostly fluff and comfort, slice of life?, bad language words, semi-graphic period and nosebleed descriptions (mostly nosebleed) (also blood and snot) (this is natural. We were all born somehow), crying, comfort, non-sexual nudity, reader is on the toilet for like half of this, but not really in gross way?, use of pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, love, darling), afab reader who has a period, no use of y/n, pronoun ‘she’ is used once

A/N: Happy International women’s day. Also, what period phase am in that I’m craving fluff rn???? Anyway, I just have it in my head that behind closed doors, Curtis is the biggest sweetheart to ever exist.

This is dedicated to all my girlies who throw their hearts into their work and don’t get enough in return. It’s also dedicated to all my girlies who love Curtis more than me (girlies is a gender-inclusive/neutral term in this case. I love you ALL).

I feel like I should also tell you guys that I’m doing a master’s in medical science while I’m applying to med school, so I think that really came out in this, if you’re fearing I mention all the types of bleeding a little too casually.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Curtis was working on cooking dinner when he heard you at the the door to your shared apartment jingling keys against the lock. It was followed by a series of grumbles before you finally turned the key and passed the threshold, slamming the door, tossing your keys on the entry way table next to his beanie, and stomping toward the home office, slamming that door as well.

Once he turned off the stove after stirring one last time, Curtis washed his hands and removed his apron before he made his way down the hall. He knocked on the door tentatively. “Sweetheart? Everything okay?”

You must not have heard him, too zoned in on your work, because the next second he heard your booming voice, hardly muffled through the inch and a half of wood.

“Oh my ….. fucking…FUCK. HOP OFF MY BACK, ANABELLE. I’M NOT A FUCKING HORSE.”

He opened the door to see you in front of your open email screen, heels of your palms rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, Sweetie, you have some time for dinner?”

You had been working late all week and you were exhausted. When it came to you, Curtis paid attention to every detail and he knew how tired you were, going to bed way past your usual time and waking up early, which is why he made your favorite for dinner tonight. In the hopes he could make a hard week even just a little bit better and maybe help the pang in his chest he felt every time he saw you like this. He cautiously approached you in your office chair and ran his hand from your shoulder down around your back to the other and pulled your head close to his chest. You turned to press your forehead against his firm pecs, and he could feel your tears wetting the front of his shirt. He stroked your hair and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. At least we know you still have great comebacks at that bitch Anabelle, even when you’re frustrated…and she can’t hear you”

You laughed slightly at that joke, followed by a sniffle as you looked up into the ever-soft eyes of your boyfriend.

“There she is.” He looked down at you, giving a winsome smile. Sometimes just a glance was enough for you to feel like your worries were melting away. He crouched down so he could bring his forehead to yours, as your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a sigh at the taste of comfort after a long day.

“Why don’t you go ahead and wash up while I make us some plates. Meet you at the table?” You nodded and sniffled again before giving him a quick peck and heading to the bathroom.

Curtis had just finished setting the table when he faintly heard you call him from the toilet. He cracked open the bathroom door to see you had discarded all of your clothes and were aggressively blowing your nose from a fresh wave of snot and tears.

“Can you…um…get me a clean pair of underwear?” Your eyes were glued to the floor. “And some comfy clothes?”

You finally glanced up at him as he nodded and went to shut the door again “Of course, Love.”

Curtis went through his drawers, picking out your favorite sweatpants and oversized hoodie of his, as well as a comfy lounge bra and underwear for you. For good measure, he also got a pair of socks.

He returned to see you still sitting there on the toilet, eyes red and puffy and elbows perched on your knees in defeat. You reached out your hands, thanking him for the fresh clothes that smelled so comfortingly like him, but he didn’t hand them over, opting to set them on the edge of the sink instead.

He moved to take your discarded clothes and place them into the hamper, taking note of the blood in your underwear. He knew that was likely going to be the case due to your request. Plus, the crying over the past few days you’d chastised yourself for (not to mention the app he’d downloaded on his phone months ago, but chose not to mention it to you yet. It was just so he could be prepared with the comforts he believed you deserved) and the constant body aches and tiredness you had shown.

He sat down cross-legged on the plush bath mat at your feet, peeling your hands from your face where you had placed them to cover up again. “Let me help you?”

“No Curtis, it’s really not necessary, I ca-“

“Please?” He gently cut you off with a whisper. “I’d feel better if I could take some of the weight off your shoulders.” You cared so much about your work and those around you, he wanted to be the one to care for you.

You meekly nodded as he kissed your knee and slid the new pair of underwear partially up your legs, placing a pad and preparing the sweatpants to slide on next.

You choked back a sob as Curtis looked up at you with his brows pinched together, concern deepening the blue in his eyes and painting his features. You blew your nose again, overwhelmed with the emotion you felt at Curtis’s kind, soft, touch in this intimate moment. When you pulled away, you both saw the red that painted the tissue. More blood.

Fuck. You knew this was coming. You were so prone to nosebleeds and the fact that you were stressed beyond belief, plus the four coffees you had today had definitely made it worse. You tried to keep your sobs from deepening as you nearly wailed in frustration, pinching your nostrils closed and leaning forward to keep the blood from trickling down the back of your throat.

Curtis rushed to grab more tissues, folding and twisting them into cylinders for you to quickly stuff up your nose to clog the bleeding. He’d seen his fair share of blood and nosebleeds in his day, so this was nothing to him. “Hey, hey, shhh shhh shhhhh, it’s ok, sweetie, you’re alright.”

He ran his hand down the side of your face as he blew a cool stream of air towards you, helping to dry the tears and calm you down. You could still see the admiration in his gaze, which put you at a crossroads between wanting to cry harder and lose all worries. You briefly considered leaning into his touch and turning to kiss his palm before the protrusions from your nose stopped you.

Curtis thought to himself about how you’d been burning both ends, putting in extra time at work, but still making the effort to spend a couple hours with him every night. And now, forget burning both ends, you were bleeding from both ends. Good one, Curtis, he thought to himself, but he’d keep that joke for another day when your spirits were a little lighter. He kept his eyes on you, and it felt like he could see into the farthest corners of your soul with his penetrating, yet pacifying gaze.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You spoke with a nasally voice between mouth breaths, your nose officially out of commission.

“What ever could you mean, Darling?” He quipped, keeping his smile soft and small.

“You’re looking at me with love. How do you love this right now?” You gestured over your whole body before aggressively pointing towards your face. “I look like a fucking walrus with these tissue plugs hanging out of my nose.”

Curtis laughed and hung his head, shaking it before looking back up at you. “I love you for a lot of reasons, but currently, it’s because I’m thinking about how you’re the hardest worker I know. This is just a side effect of you pushing yourself a little too far. It’s okay, and I don���t mind helping you at all but I know you won’t ask for it. So I’m happy because you’re at least letting me help you right now.”

You really were grateful for the way Curtis treated you. To anyone else, he seemed like a gruff wall of muscle, which he was, but to you, he was so much more. He was the biggest softie with a bleeding heart and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have each other. He constantly spoke of how much he loved you, especially when you were at your worst, which felt like a lot recently. You felt like you were the lucky one to have him, despite the way he often said the opposite.

He returned to gliding the sweatpants over your feet, followed by your socks. He let you finish cleaning yourself up before you flushed the toilet and you both washed your hands, your sobs calming fully. He finally grabbed the sweatshirt and gently slid it over your head, careful to not knock the precariously stuffed tissues out of place.

Curtis stood behind you in the mirror, grabbing one of your hair ties off the sink and pulling your hair into a messy bun. You’d taught him how to do that a few weeks into your relationship and he’d become pretty good at it, practicing whenever you would let him. His large stature towered over you as he finished and tugged to adjust the large piece of sweatshirt fabric down over your hips, perfectly oversized from having to fit over his broad frame on most days. His hands snaked around your waist, turning you and pulling your stomachs together as you leaned back to look up at him.

“And for the record, you’re the cutest walrus I’ve ever seen.” Curtis was happy to see your eyes sparkling with something other than tears again, appreciation, and leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips, before realizing the tissue cylinders were blocking his path, opting for a forehead kiss instead with a small chuckle.

“Now let’s get some food in you. We can eat and then I’ll hold some ice packs to your face on the couch while you finish answering those last few emails. Sound good?”

You nodded and gave him the first bright, genuine smile he’d seen from you in days. Again, in your nasally voice, you responded. “Okay, but I have a few conditions. I get to sit in your lap while you hold your hand to my stomach like a heat pad and feed me chocolate for each email I finish.”

He scooped you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, your hands stroking the back of his soft, buzzed hair as he carried you over to the kitchen counter.

“Deal. Anything for my best girl.”

Bonus A/N: I would probably sell a kidney to have a Curtis like this.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated! Lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag lists for any of my fics!!

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Babe Across The Bar [LGBT+ Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: Feminine LGBT+ reader who expresses romantic/sexual attraction for more than just men. HOMOPHOBES BEGONE! List is primarily TBB centric, with a few bonus Clones. Minor suggestive content/dialogue. Pining. Gay Panic™. Mentions of alcohol. Sprinkling of Mando'a. Minor language. There's one line that could be interpreted as the reader experiencing being outed against her will, but kept vague in Tech's section of these snapshot scenarios. Hardcase's section deals with homophobes. Doesn’t follow the typical headcanons put into bullet points format because I ended up being a little too inspired for these! Some of these also deviated from the original prompt, but I feel they still relate enough to warrant inclusion. 

Word-count: 4,694

Prompt: How would the boys (any boys, all the boys, whomever boys) react to their gal friend/crewmate and/or feminine S/O commenting on how stunning another girl is?

Hunter (Crewmate offering to be your wingman) 

His eyes often flit to the door whenever someone walks in out of habit in large part to his senses. Keeping an eye on his surroundings. Things he was trained to do. So he notices the attractive woman who's just strolled in through the front entrance of 79's. Her clothing, her hair, her nails are all beautiful and immaculate.

And he notices how your breath hitches in your throat when you see her. But it's not insecurity or jealousy that made you do that. He's caught on for a while now that you "swing more than one way" as it were. But you've never been explicit in your words, or given him the big speech, so he's kept his mouth shut. If a member of his crew has something to tell him, he wants to give them a chance.  You're no different.

But the comment under your breath is enough to finally ask. "Oh Maker, she's gotta be one of the angels from Iego…" You've just compared her to the Diathim of Millius Prime, practically swooning. 

He takes a sip of his drink, eyes trained on the bombshell beauty you seem to be pining for. "You wanna go talk to her?" 

You shake your head rapidly at him, trying not to choke on the drink in your hands with the fruit-flavored and colorful, jelly-like particulate. (It's new to the novelty drinks menu at 79's, so Hunter's not sure how it tastes, but you seem to like it.) "Oh stars no!" Did he misread the situation before him, were you looking at her with jealousy after all? 

You sigh, putting your head in your hands with a groan. "She's so out of my league… She's probably only here for the troopers, anyways." you add solemnly, finally slumping forward in your seat at the bar top. Hunter sets down his glass and plants a steady hand on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He's still getting to know you as a regular part of his squad, in all fairness, but he should have trusted his instinct. You did seem to have a thing for women. 

So maybe he could offer to help. 

"Well… if you've had enough liquid courage and want to try your luck, I'll be your wingman, cyar'ika." he says, giving you a friendly pat after slowly sitting up. You'll think about it, you murmur. 

You never end up making a move to so much as introduce yourself to her, much, much too nervous. At the end of the night, Hunter, who had tried to coax and encourage you several times throughout the night, just gives you another pat on the back. "Maybe next time, cyare. Don't feel too bad." As you walk back to the Marauder together, Hunter won't pressure you into it of course but he offers to help you practice for next time, if you think it'll cheer you up. As part of his squad, there'll always be the banter and the teasing of course, but Hunter will always offer to help.

Crosshair (Initially confused (+ insecure) partner)

Sight sharper than a knife, he was not quite afraid to check out the beautiful woman hanging off another Clone's elbow once upon a time. But now, with you, he keeps himself in check for the most part. You've briefly had that talk as a relatively new couple, that really it’s okay. It’s only natural to look. We’re all kriffing human, after all, aren’t we? The whole possessive ownership aspect is weird and icky to you, and you’re not gonna get yourself in a twist just because you catch him glancing at another woman. But he realizes there's probably something else you should have talked about together. 

You like women too, and you’re looking at them just as much. It's hard to miss by the fifth instance of a remark like "Oh, she's cute!" and subsequent gestures with your glass to indicate who you're looking at. He's trying so hard not to feel like you’re testing him. Like you’re playing some little game by calling his loyalty into question, just how “obedient” he’ll really be. "Oh, yeah?" There's a strange twist of discomfort in his guts that he can't figure out. Is he jealous? Is he upset? (Should he order something to eat from the overpriced appetizer menu?)

"Yeah, I mean, look at her," you invite him with a flashy smile, "she's cute!" 

He blinks at you with mild concern. He's heard alcohol brings out a different side in people, and he can't recall the full array of what you've had to drink. "Are you feeling alright?" He's unsure why he's so bothered. Is it because you're not paying attention to him? 

"Better than alright, Cross. What's wro-? Oh. Oh shit didn't I tell you?" you set down your drink with a soft laugh and an apology, face looking flushed in a way that has nothing to do with the red and purple club lights. "I, uh, I play for more than one team, romantically at least. I'm sorry if I never told you, Crosshair." 

He frowns for a split second, but he quickly answers that there's no need to apologize. He was a little confused at first sure (and perhaps slightly envious that you were commenting so openly on other people who weren't him), but he takes a look now at the woman you had indicated. She's not just cute, "Oh, the smoke show in the red dress?" 

"Yeah. That's the one." you nod approvingly, the movement slow and deliberate. "She's a stunner, ain't she?" Certainly is, he agrees. (One of his brothers sighs playfully and makes the remark that nights out to 79's, or any bar for that matter, will get a lot more interesting from now on.) 

The rest of the night carries on this way, you making the occasional glancing once-over of another trooper's arm-candy for the night, but most of your attention is given to Crosshair. You're with him for a reason. You know how to behave yourself, for kriff's sake. Any inkling of the horrible, hateful stereotypes of your orientation being true are so far from reality. You don't make passes at everyone you see. You keep your comments innocent and general if you decide to get a little gutsy and talk to one of them. 

The redhead's got curls to die for, what kind of product is she using?

That is such a cute dress (with pockets!) that you have to know where she got it, because you swear you've seen fashion like that on Naboo. 

Sorry if this is weird to ask but she's totally wearing a designer fragrance from one of the Core Worlds, right?  

By the end of the night, Crosshair is reassured that you're not playing any kind of game with him, and perhaps the two of you will be having another talk to smooth out any wrinkles he has in his understanding of your orientation; but you promise him over and over you're with him for a reason in case any of your comments tonight made him feel any doubt. Just because you swing more than one way does not mean you're going to leave in the event you feel a stronger preference for women for a while. You love him. 

And he wholly believes you. 

Wrecker (Your enthusiastic hype-man)

"Oh shit." You hunker down in the booth seat, wide-eyed and breathless.

Wrecker reflexively glances down at the casual fatigues he wore to 79's tonight instead of the dark red and gray armor he typically wears. "Wha'? Did I get dip on myself again?" He doesn't see anything, so he takes a look at you, and that's when he notices you practically halfway under the table. "Did you drop something? I can lift the table so it's easier to-!"

"No!" you blurt out, sitting up. "That won't be necessary! Don't lift the table!" 

You're starting to confuse him. "Then what's wrong?" 

"She's here." A slightly shaky finger is pointed across the Clone bar, where seated at the counter, is the woman who's only ever shown interest in the other girls often brought here, or the dancers. You've had a not-so-silent crush on her for ages but didn't want to go and try anything. Until last week when she turned down what must've been the hundredth trooper. "Sorry fellas, afraid I'm not interested. But you'd all definitely be my type if I was into men." Oh Maker you'd been a hopeless mess. 

The endless inner cycle of 'do I want to BE her, or do I want to be WITH her?' had finally sorted itself out in your head after that. 

Wrecker knew from the jump that your romantic and sexual interests did not begin and end with men when he caught you staring at the same woman as him in a dirty jumpsuit on the airfield. And then literally caught you when you tripped over Tech's box of tools in your distraction. Ever since, he's done his best to help you make a move over someone you were clearly feeling something for. 

"Go talk to her!" Wrecker encourages you, nudging your ribs with a careful elbow, "Say hi!" 

"Maker, I can't, she's so pretty a-and like-? Oh Wrecker I can't even explain it… It's like I look at her and I just-"

Wrecker chuckles softly, leveling you with a look that tells you he knows exactly what you mean. "Have trouble thinkin' straight because she's gonna be paying attention and you don't want to kark it up?" 

You bite your bottom lip so hard he's worried you'll make it bleed and get it all over your pretty little outfit. "Y-yes! I'm so nervous…" 

He tells you not to worry about it too much, you're overthinking it! "Introduce yourself, mesh'la. You'll kick yourself for days if you don't." Okay, okay, he's right. Here goes nothing, you say. You slip out of the booth seat and sidle up to the drinks counter under the notion of ordering another drink first, but your crush takes notice of you in her proximity, and all she manages is a pleasant hello before you're a grinning mess. Wow, you had it bad for her. You stammer through your introduction, and give her your name as you say it was nice to meet her, and sure, you'd love to chat while the drink slinger whips something up! 

In one of your many nervous glances around the club, he makes sure you get a clear view of his approving thumbs up. You're doing great! You end up talking to her for nearly forty-five minutes before she has to leave, she's got work in the morning, but she's scribbling something down on the bar top that Wrecker can't see. 

"Hey, look at you! You did it, kid!" Wrecker cheers as you walk back over to the booth in a daze, your eyes focused on the slip of flimsiplast in your hands. 

"Sh-she gave me her comm frequency… What does that mean?" 

Wrecker can only laugh. Oh man, guess even you will have your help-how-do-I-function-around-a-girl-I've-never-even-met-a-girl moments he's seen many Clones have. 

"I think that means she wants to keep talking to ya, ad'ika." 

"O-oh." Is all you simply say. "Holy kriff I did it. I talked to her." you add after a long, long pause as Wrecker adds the number into your contacts for you, just in case the flimsi gets wet and you end up losing the number before the night is over. 

"You sure did! I knew you could do it!" 

Tech (Not-so-surprised friend) 

To him, the fact that you have a romantic, perhaps even sexual interest in women is as obvious as the fact that the phenotypic eye color for (most) Clones is brown. 

That's simply just how it is, in his world. But he has extensively researched how significant a coming out is for people such as yourself who do not fall under a heteronormative scope. He does not ask. He does not hint to you that he knows. And if he has let it slip, he is careful to express that it is not a big deal. 

Not a big deal in the sense that he would end a friendship with you, or view you as if there was something "broken" and "defective" about you. That would be rather hypocritical of him after all. Well, sort of. He's more deviant than defective, because his genetic mutations do not hinder his ability to perform as a competent soldier of the GAR, and much like your inclinations, that is not something he has control over. He is simply a Clone from a "bad batch" much in the same way that you are a woman who fancies other women. 

If you were to even come out to him, he has already carefully considered what he would say to you. He values your friendship and your company. He would very much like to maintain this by saying the right thing. 

That he is glad that you trusted him enough to share such an important facet of yourself. That though, quite honestly, he has questions, he will save them for another time. That he understands you must be nervous, scared even, but he will never treat you any different than before you told him. And he most definitely will not tell you that he deduced this months ago. 

But blast him, when you sent him a message asking to meet up at 79's a little earlier before the typical meetup, he was so certain that this was the conversation. So he had been mentally coaching himself on what to say, but more importantly what not to say so much, that when you slipped into the booth and said "I wanna tell you something, Tech…" it slipped his mouth faster than a Mon Calamari in water. 

"That you like women?" 

Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit. That was the thing he was supposed to refrain from saying or asking! 

"Hah… Was I really that obvious? Did I worry for nothing?" You ask with a sincere laugh. You're not offended, or angry, or anything in the slightest. In fact, you look relieved. "...Tech?"

"I'm so sorry." is all he can offer. Oh Maker, he's so incredibly sorry, he tells you. He's robbed you of the chance to have a very significant conversation about what many deem unnatural, but in fact it's not; just before you joined him in their usual booth at 79's he was reading an admittedly rather heartwarming article about same-sex couples occuring in the galactic animal kingdom before you arrived, actually! (Everything from the little nuna to the mighty and magnificent purrgil!) But he's suspected this for some time and didn't think it was his place to ask. He's sorry he's ruined this chance for y-

You interrupt him with a laugh as you take one of his hands and squeeze it reassuringly. You just laugh and laugh, a grin from ear to ear the whole time before you settle yourself. "Oh, Tech… It's okay! I don't care if it didn't end up being surprising to you. I'm just so glad you understood that you shouldn't say something just because it was obvious in this case. Thank you. You're a good friend. Not everyone has been." 

He's sorry to hear that, first and foremost. "But I am… glad that you trusted me enough to want to tell me." 

Echo (Friend who's known for ages)

Echo carefully tests whatever fun and colorful drink you ordered for yourself as you give his a try. The two of you have been friends for ages, since before the Citadel. So that means Echo's known nearly as long as you've been friends that you swing more than one way. In fact, it was surprisingly comforting to know that had not changed since ending up in a Techno Union chamber. 

"Hey, cyar'ika. Can I ask if you… Would it be weird to…" he sighed sharply and says he's just going to rip off the bacta patch and ask. "Do you still like women in addition to-?" 

"Don't worry. That hasn't changed while you were gone." you told him, wrapping him up in a careful hug on one of those first nights since he'd been freed and given time to rest. To fill himself in on what happened in the galaxy around him since being plugged into an algorithm. "Welcome back, Echo." 

He sets the drink down and shakes his head, and you give him back his beverage with a disgusted shudder. "Ugh. How can you stand that?" you both tease each other in tandem. 

"I don't understand your taste in beverages, but at least I understand your taste in women." Echo rags on you with a mischievous smile, indicating someone across the club who's been staring at the drinks menu for the last three minutes. "How about her? Clone News Network suggests she's a little shy, perhaps, but I've heard you have a similar hobby. That's something, hm?" 

You scoff, knowing well enough that the rumor mill requires taking things with a grain of salt. "Oh no, that's not enough to just-"

"She's also of 'multiple persuasions'." Echo assures you, quelling that particular anxiety. "Believe me, I asked around rather… extensively." he suggests. 

"Oh, did you now?" 

"Mhm." 

"Are you trying to set me up on a d-?"

Echo shakes his head. "Mm-mn. Only asked if any of the boys had gotten a vibe, or heard anything. She's pretty forthcoming about it, turns out, so it's not like this was something I found by invading her privacy or betraying trusts." He's a skilled tactician, he reminds you gently, and he understands that asking around takes delicacy and knowing that you can't just ask any ol' brother. 

He's nothing but mindful, as ever. "If you wanna do anything about it, that's up to you. You get more out of something when you want it, I wasn't going to set you up for something against your will."

You take a thoughtful swig of your beverage and set the glass down on the bar top once more. "If I did… would you help me plan on how to make a move? You know I'm a little hopeless with this stuff. Guys are one thing, but, I dunno, it's different when trying to flirt with another woman as a woman." you admit with a nervous laugh. 

Of course he would, Echo promises sweetly, kindly as ever. 

BONUS CLONES

Fives (Gives you advice)

Between reminding Hardcase not to go in rotary cannons blazing nearly every mission, and coming up with sufficient battle strategies as an Advanced Recon Commando, Fives is nearly convinced that he'll go gray by the time he's, what, technically fifteen? Nearly. 

So in a way, he loves when you send him a message asking for his input on low-stakes stuff. No one's in any danger, he's not worried about a brother's safety, and he still gets to show off how smart he is. 

>Oh Maker Fives help there's a total babe here tonight I think she's super cute but I don't know if it's safe to make a move or say anything what do I do

It's 21:00: are you at 79's?

> Yeah why

79's is a pretty accepting establishment, so see if anything she brought with her or is wearing has any kind of pin, or keychain or deliberate color scheme, Ka'ra. Take a deep breath. 

He chuckles as he watches the bubbles start and stop at the bottom of the messaging feature repeatedly. Poor you. Must be so nervous. So worked up on your own anxiety and panic that you might benefit from a second, teasing reminder. 

Ka'raaaa. Did you take a deep breath, silly? I don't care what the song says, love is not a battlefield, you don't need to panic. 

He thinks for a second and changes his mind. 

Actually no, scratch that. It is, but it isn't. You still need a strategy, but you need to have a level head first. 

> You're right, you're right. Taking a deep breath

Captain Rex seems to materialize behind him and over the shoulder like a hologram, peering down at the screen out of curiosity. "Those don't look like reports. One of our brothers having a little lady trouble at 79's again?" 

Fives laughs in good humor. "I'm not exactly sure why I got designated the 501st's biggest flirt, but I'll take it, Captain." He can get plenty nervous and unsure of what to say like anyone else, but Fives cares about his brothers; of course he's going to do his best to help them. "No, it's our favorite mechanic here on Coruscant." He trusts his Captain will exercise his discretion and make no mention of knowing the romantic and sexual persuasions of their friend if she hadn't made explicit mention to him. "I see. Well, wish her luck for me. I've got my own reports I've put off long enough."

"I'll have mine in by 21:30, Captain!" Fives promises, knowing he'll probably be helping some of the Shinies learn to fill them out properly once again. A little extra guidance and another source of advice goes a long way for many, brothers and friends alike. 

> Good call about looking for pins, Fives. I think I'm in the clear

He's not totally sure what that color scheme ties to when you describe the personal touch this "total babe across the bar" has added to her handbag looks like, but the simple fact that you're now fairly sure you're safe to flirt with her (if that's what you decide to do) brings you a lot of relief. 

Him too, honestly. 

You gonna go for it, mesh'la? The Captain and I wish ya luck if you do!

> I'd have to think of the right words first, but thanks Fives. You coming to 79's later tonight?

Have reports to finish up, so we'll see. 

> Your's or some of your brothers'? (Is it Hardcase's again?)

Very funny, Ka'ra. I just try to be helpful to whoever asks.

> I'm only teasing~ You're a very smart dependable brother, and friend, Fives. Next time you come to 79's if it's not tonight, I'll buy you a drink as a way of saying thank you.

Fives smiles. He'd like that, he responds. He wishes you luck once more, and says he should get a start on wrapping this particular report up since it contains information the Captain will need to report to General Skywalker with. 

Never told us there'd be this much damn paperwork to do as part of our training on Kamino if you're gonna be made an ARC trooper. 

> Good thing you're smart, Fives. I'm confident you'll figure out something wicked intelligent, like how to stop this war one day. 🩷

Captain Rex (Doing his best to learn and support you)

"Huh… gotta say, there's certainly a lot to try to understand; I might still have a few questions about it, but I'm not gonna pry into it if you don't feel like explaining it." The Captain admits, scratching the back of his neck with a soft chuckle. "I'm not quite up to speed on all this, but-" 

"Rex, it's okay." you assure him. "I know you're doing your best. I only told you a short while ago, remember? And hey," here you take his hand and give him a friendly squeeze, "it took me a while to realize this stuff about myself too. It's not always like the media where it just… "clicks", suddenly! It's almost like a building suspicion, or passing thoughts that you try to excuse at first, but then you realize that you're feeling these feelings and thinking these thoughts more and more. And that's when you tend to figure out "Oh, hey, that term I found on the Holonet describes me!" and it all makes sense. For the most part." 

"Oh?" Rex asks, intrigued. 

"Sometimes you find a label or orientation that fits you better than one you were first using." you explain, scribbling down a few labels off the top of your head onto a scrap of flimsi you had among your things as you met up with the Captain for a cup of caf on your day off, "Like say, you think this one best explains you," you circle an example, "so you use it for a while. But then later you hear about this-" you x-out the first label and circle a new one, "and you find it does a much better job of explaining how you feel. And there was nothing wrong with identifying with the first one for a while until you found what fit better and changed it, either." 

He nods thoughtfully, very clearly mulling this over. Then it hits him. "A little like, well, when a Clone finds their name?" 

"Yes!" you cheer, "Yes, kinda like when a Clone finds his name! Maybe he thought he wanted to be called Skip for a while, but he decided he felt more comfortable with naming himself Tripper after hearing someone else say it for the first time." 

He thinks he better understands this now when he thinks of it in this context, he explains with a smile that suggests a lot of relief. He's just so busy, but he wanted to understand what you meant after the last night out you had with the 501st and you were all sharing embarrassing stories. Rex wasn't a stranger to the fact that men could like men and women could like women, but some of these other labels were lost on him. 

"I've been around a while, but I have to admit I don't know what that means." he sheepishly replied when you explained what your orientation was as part of your embarrassing situation. But now that he knows, Rex wants you to know you'll always have his support.

Hardcase (Identifies as a Kriffing Problem if you don't respect his friends) 

It's good news for you, bad news for the nasties when they decide that they want to be antagonistic in a safe space. You wanted to check out a new, very accepting bar in the area, and had asked Hardcase to come along with you to help ease your nerves about it. 

His lively energy would do everyone some good, you figured. He was friendly and personable, so he'd get along with everyone. And you were right; Hardcase truly does get along with everyone from the snappily-dressed bartenders to the other allies who are there to support their friends in case there's trouble. 

Everyone except the bigots. He's always been all-smiles off the battlefield due to his energetic nature, and you've never seen him drop a smile so fast. When it's time to get serious, Hardcase gets serious. "What the kriff did you say?" He's not asking because he didn't hear what insults had been lobbied your way, he's giving the other guy a chance to back down and leave if he knows what's good for him. "I know you didn't just say that about my friend." 

The other guy repeats himself, louder this time. "I said anyone who identifies as a-"

"I'm about to identify as a kriffing problem if you don't shut the hell up." Hardcase warns him one last time, putting himself between you and the antagonizer who overheard you mentioning there were a lot of cute girls here tonight.. "Sorry that you feel so threatened by a woman finding someone other than you attractive, but that's a "you" problem that you should take somewhere else." He suggests they take a hike to 79's specifically. He conveniently "forgets" to mention that it's a Clone bar, and as the troublemakers leave, he tips off a few of his brothers about what's headed their way. 

"Don't worry about them. They'll find out how many of us identify as a kriffing problem before they think about trying this again anytime soon." Hardcase promises, his sweet and charming smile present like it never even left as he checks on you after the fact.

Tagging: @the-hexfiles

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Homebrew Class design For Dummies: Part 3: Finishing the base class

Hi there~! Welcome to the third edition of homebrew class design for dummies, where I teach you how to make a homebrewed class for D&D fifth-edition, in case you missed part 1 and part 2, we went over both the initial planning that goes into making a homebrew class, as well as the first three levels, this entry will be about finishing the base class.

Quick recap

Some advice from the previous entries bares repeating here as they come much more into affect

Number of features: By this point classes get 1 feature per level, though you may give a second feature at and given level either just as a ribbon or cause it's getting a "weak" feature at that level.

Dead levels: Dead levels really go into affect in these later levels, they particularly come into affect for full/half casters when they get their higher leveled spells. Martials generally don't get dead levels, and if they do it's cause an existing ability gets improved (Ex: Brutal critical and Fighters second action surge)

The Tiers of Play

While this warranted inclusion in the previous entries, it is worth mentioning that 5e features "Tiers of play" as their called on page 16 of the PHB. To pull some wording from it: 1-4th level (Covered in the previous entry) are the start of your character adventuring career, when they're still figuring out their abilities and what they can do. 5-10 is when your characters start to come into their own, 11th-16th level adventurers are essentially in the "Big leagues" 11th-12th level are also typically when adventures end with some exceptions, and 17th-20th level are the endgame, where your character has reached mythic status.

This write up focuses on the later tiers of play, remember that, while the abilities given at levels 1-3 are meant to set your class up for the rest of the game, the later levels are meant to both expand on the class, but also gradually increase their power until their capstone.

Key Features

Also of note are certain features that pop up post level 3 that should be kept in mind while designing your class.

Ability score improvements: Each class (with the exception of Fighter and Rogue) get an ability score/feat at 4th, 8th, 12th, 16th and 19th level. These levels are big enough for a characters career that you should avoid giving class features at this levels.

Extra attack: At 5th-level martials and half casters (with the exception of non-armorer or battlesmith Artificers) get an extra attack, meant to help keep up in power for the rest of their career, depending on what you envision for your class, they may get an extra attack at this level, or they may have an altered version of extra attack, an immediate example that comes to mind is Kibblestastys Warlord, their version of extra attack allows them to use their battlefield presence feature twice instead of just once, maybe you can borrow language from the bladesinger and allow your class to use an ability in place of an attack, have fun with it!

Capstone: At 20th-level, a class gains their capstone ability, the absolute peak of their power, feel free to go a little crazy with these. Sure most won't be able to experience their classes 20th-level ability, but throw a bone for those that do.

As a quick note, when making your capstone, make sure to avoid giving your class features like superior inspiration or perfect self, those types of features that read "When you roll initiative you regain one "" point" they never feel good or worthwhile as capstone features. If you wanna be extra special, you can take some cues from the paladin, who has a unique capstone depending on their subclass, it's not the norm but it could be fun to experiment with. Especially if your class is extrinsically tied to your subclass.

Summary

To summarize the points made within this (Admittedly short) write up, when finishing the rest of your homebrew class you should:

Respect Dead levels and "Common" features and why they exist

Come up with thematic and gradually stronger options

Make a capstone that'd entice players to stick through to 20th-level, rather than multiclassing as fast as they can.

The Avatar

Last but not least, taking in all of the advice given within this write-up into consideration, here is what i've come up with for the Avatars 4th-level and beyond.

5th-level is the standard extra attack for any martial, 6th-level is an improvement to your exceptional figure feature, making you immune to disease and allows you to add your charisma modifier to your strength checks.

9th-level grants you fortune and glory, allow you to use a radiance (Formerly known as conduit dice) to reroll a saving throw you or an ally makes (Cause you know, support) the 10th-level improvement to exceptional figure grants you resistance to radiant or necrotic damage, and you recover 1 point of exhaustion upon completing a short rest (Carried from the Rangers Tireless feature) Blazing eulogy allows you to instantly activate an epithet upon rolling initiative, so long as it doesn't impose a saving throw upon activation. My idea with the feature is to allow the avatar to get a buffing epithet up and ready without sacrificing their bonus action round one, I imagine this feature is particularly nice for polearm or crossbow wielding Avatars.

13th level grants you peerless reputation and Exempalary blows, the first of which grants advantage on charisma checks in towns you've spent a day in while Exempalary blows allows you to roll an additional damage dice the first time you deal damage, just a extra little boost to help them keep up in the higher tiers of play. Mythic resolve grants advantage on death saving throws, and when you roll a natural 20, you gain hit points equal to your avatar level. It's meant to represent this anime like moment where you're at deaths door, hope seems lost, but then you roll that natural 20 and become filled with newfound vigor. Sure maybe it isn't much for a 14th-level feature mechanically speaking, but I just love the flavor, it feels super fitting for what I'm trying to accomplish with the avatar (On a thematic level.)

Unbreakable will allows you to succeed on a saving throw once per day, essentially granting you a legendary resistance, which felt so thematically fitting for this mythical/folk-hero inspired class. And lastly, Absolute Divinity allows you to regain one radiance dice when you start your turn without any, you also cannot age but you know, that's just a flavor thing. You don't get a traditional capstone because that is determined by your subclass. A bit of me just likes the thematic of your subclass, the source of your power granting you abilities at the start and end of your avatars journey.

That's all I got for this write up. I apologize that this one took so long to get out, got caught up with things and also hit a roadblock when designing the avatar. Tune in next time where we cover class resources, in the meantime. Stay awesome, go out and make some homebrew.

Homebrew Class design For Dummies: Part 1: The Foundation

Homebrew Class design For Dummies: Part 2: Getting Started

Guide to Balancing Classes

[salvadorbonaparte]

Hallo! I am a native English speaker aber ich lerne auch Deutsch. Apologies if you've already done this somewhere else on your blog, but would you be able to explain what you mean by hin/er/sie pronouns? Is hin a singular gender-neutral pronoun (er hat ein Buch, sie hat ein Buch, hin hat ein Buch) and you're also happy with the gendered er and sie, or are er and sie different forms of hin (like when we say she/her/hers, or maybe in German er/ihn/ihm)? I'm trans myself (he/him) and I love learning about the different ways languages adapt for the needs of trans and nonbinary people but I'm not yet very familiar with trans-inclusive language in German so I'd love to know more.

(Oh and as a secondary question, does German have an equivalent word for "queer" - an inclusive catch-all term for basically everything under the umbrella? I've done a bit of looking but haven't found much good information on that so far)

Anyway danke schön and I hope you're having a good day!

Hello! Also I've seen the addendum and don't worry about the typo.

Hen/hens/hem is a gender neutral pronoun I have seen on a list of options for German once that I really liked and kinda want to make happen (which isn't really working). So I also use other pronouns like er or sie. It's taken from Swedish and germanised which I thought is a great parallel to how English got some pronouns from Old Norse (like she actually). I do have a longer post about this somewhere but I'll have to dig it up once I'm home. Please remind me in a couple days!!

Yeah we literally have the word "queer". I'm not sure when people started using it but it's been around for a long while and because it's not a slur in German (while the terms for gay and homosexual have been used more derogatory) it's actually a lot more neutral and accepted here.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

So the One Piece themed cooking blog idea I mentioned a week or two ago (or maybe a month I have no concept of the passage of time).

For anyone who missed it, I've been considering making a cooking blog for a very long time, but I wasn't sure how I wanted to go about it.

More recently I got a brainworm that wouldn't go away about creating one written primarily from the point of view of Sanji, also featuring Zeff and other characters, providing recipes and tips and ideas and foodie content in general.

Aaanyway. I'm starting to gather content for it. Kinda want to have enough content for at least three to four recipes before I start, but since the vote was 100% that I should do it and it's not a totally dumb idea...I'mma do it.

Some details for anyone that's interested in this nonsense:

Asks. The blog will be open to suggestions and any asks for cooking advice/tips. I can't promise I'll be able to answer all recipe suggestions in a timely manner, it will depend on my time and ability to procure ingredients.

Recipes. My own recipes range widely, I enjoy experimenting so I'm open to trying absolutely ANYTHING. That being said, again, I may not be able to readily procure ingredients only available in specific regions.

Resources. Money is a thing. Please don't ask me to make things involving ingredients like waygu steak or foie gras, I still have bills to pay 👀 That being said, I still have resources that I can ask about using such ingredients, and maybe one day I may be able to procure them myself.

Skill Level. Recipes and tips will be as detailed as possible, to ensure that anyone interested in trying them, at any skill level, will be able to. I'm primarily self-taught, with some instruction from family/friends that have professional experience in the culinary industry, so I understand that some terms and techniques are essentially a foreign language to those without much experience. I want to engage anyone interested in cooking at any level, so I'll make sure to provide explanations for terms and ingredients that might not be common knowledge to everyone.

Categories. All culinary pursuits will apply. Stovetop, oven, roasting, baking, frying, sautéing, braising, stewing, etc., as well as tips on utensils and tools. Constraints in that I do not own an airfryer or an Instapot, but I don't think those exist in the One Piece universe anyway; I'm not a fan of crockpots/slowcookers since I can make the same recipes without one, but I'm still willing to accept that they can be convenient; and I also have very little practical experience in pickling or preserving, but again, I'm always open to trying new things when it comes to food.

Extras Cooking/foodie memes are inspiration, and I'm happy to be bombarded with them.

Theme General theme will be the concept of "family meal," which refers to the meals that the restaurant staff tends to share between peak business hours. While the blog will primarily be run by Sanji and Zeff, there will be other characters that show up to share their insights. One of my original characters is planning to appear as well, but I'm keeping her on a short leash because of her attitude problems.

Very Important: Same as this blog, it will be a safe space. You should never be afraid to ask anything. We don't learn if we don't ask questions, and no question is a stupid question.

Essentially, I want it to be a fun and inclusive experience for everyone, whether you're interested in One Piece or cooking or both.

I'll let everyone know once I have it actually set up. But for anyone interested, you're more than welcome to send any thoughts/concerns/suggestions/ideas/questions/etc to me here in the meantime.

[jrhartauthor]

When it comes to writing contemporary romance, there are certain expectations that readers may have:

A happily ever after or happy for now ending (HEA or HFN)

Chemistry between the main character and love interest

Intimacy

But when it comes to the last point, it’s high time to recognize that intimacy comes in different forms. For one, not every book needs on-page sexual intimacy. Many writers choose a closed-door sex scene, or to have their characters go as far as kissing and stop short of anything past that. But as LGBTQ+ representation in fiction grows, and we start to see more asexual and aromantic rep in stories, it may not just be about what an author wants to share on the page, but also about what a character feels comfortable with doing with their partner.

When it comes to writing characters under the ace and aro umbrellas, it’s important to know that these identities aren’t a monolith. Some asexual characters are sex-repulsed. Some enjoy sex in the right circumstances. Some enjoy sex under all circumstances. Asexual simply means “does not experience sexual attraction.” It doesn’t necessarily mean the character doesn’t want to have sex. Similarly, asexual characters may have an identity anywhere along the ace spectrum. A character could be asexual, gray asexual, demisexual… the list goes on.

Aromantic characters could want a queerplatonic partnership. Some aromantic characters may be okay with a relationship where their partner is alloromantic, and experiences and shares romantic feelings toward them, even if they don’t share those feelings in return, and that’s okay too.

When writing your character, taking time to research their specific identity and make sure that you’re writing it authentically is a huge help. Spend time learning about the terms used within the ace and aro communities, and what your character might feel, think, and understand of sexuality and romance.

As I wrote The Heartbreak Handshake, I honestly wondered whether or not readers would be okay with an contemporary romance with hugging as the peak of physical intimacy in the story. While the series it is a part of—the Clover Hill Romance series—ranges from no sex on page to open-door fully descriptive sex, and I knew there was a place for it in the series itself, having space in a series and space in readers’ hearts is a very different thing.

It turns out a lot of my fears were unfounded. The reality is, pushing your character outside of their comfort zone will bother a reader far more than writing something they may feel is “tame” by comparison to other stories. And if they’re not a fan of where your character (and you) draw the line? They may not be your target audience!

Regardless of if you’re writing the spiciest of spice allo romance, or an asexual one, using inclusive language is incredibly important. In the same way that you wouldn’t want to say “my friend Taz likes both genders,” (if Taz likes men and women, you can say men and women without dismissing that other genders exist), using inclusive language when it comes to asexuality and aromanticism can be helpful too. Check out the difference between these two ways of phrasing things:

“After spending so much time with her, my hope is that one day, we’ll be more than friends.”

“After spending so much time with my best friend, my hope is that she’ll feel the same spark I do.”

Both of these sentences imply that two people are on the cusp of a potential relationship, and that maybe they’ve been friends in the past with a possibility the relationship may shift in the future. Now take this example into consideration.

“Judging by the way they both acted, I got the impression they were more than friends.”

“Judging by the way they both acted, I got the impression they were definitely into each other.”

Again, both sentences convey the same basic meaning. But once again, one conveys that being friends is “less than” being in a romantic or sexual relationship. This isn’t true! And for many, a friendship is equally (or more) desirable.

All it takes is a little shifting of your language to make it more inclusive, and make sure that you’re putting romantic, sexual, and platonic relationships on equal footing.

If you’re not asexual or aromantic, writing a character that is can be hard. After all, there are tons of misconceptions about asexual and aromantic people. Hiring a sensitivity reader within this community—especially if they share your character’s exact identity—can help you ensure the most accurate portrayal possible. Even if you are ace or aro, the reality is, different ace and aro people have different experiences, and getting a second perspective (or third! Or fourth!) can help you flesh out your character more realistically. Lived experience when writing will almost always be better than writing a character you don’t share an identity with, especially if that identity is a margilized one—like another race, sexuality, or gender identity. Keeping that in mind as you write can help you pick your character and what you’re writing to begin with.

No one will ever argue that beta reading isn’t difficult or time consuming, but unlike beta reading, sensitivity reading places a special burden on the reader, often on a marginalized reader. Sensitivity reads are often reserved for reading a specific racial, sexual, gender, cultural, or disabled identity, and this can put a huge emotional or mental drain on a sensitivity reader. As a result, sensitivity reading should be paid work whenever possible. That said, if a sensitivity reader is up for a work or goods exchange, by all means, that’s an option too. Just remember that a sensitivity read requires a very different skillset and level of effort than beta reading or editing, and should be compensated accordingly.

You don’t have to skirt around your characters’ identity in writing. Often, sharing character identity actually helps a reader find what they’re looking for, both as you write and as you market your work as a writer. Being unapologetic about your characters’ ace or aro identity can help you find the readers your book is after.

Understanding Asexuality-The Trevor Project The Asexuality Visibility and Education Network (AVEN)* Asexuality, Attraction, and Romantic Orientation-UNC Chapel Hill’s LGBTQ Center 5 Asexuals Explain what Asexuality Means to Them-Tinder (Video) 4 Demisexual People Explain what Demisexuality Means to Them-Tinder (Video) r/Asexuality and r/Aromantic on Reddit (Additional identities linked in Reddit Sidebars)** What it Means to be Aromantic-VeryWellMind Aromantic-spectrum Union for Recognition, Education, and Advocacy (AUREA)

*Please note: AVEN’s forums have sometimes been problematic. Your mileage may vary. Viewer discretion is advised.

**Reddit can often be problematic, especially outside of LGBTQ+ subreddits, but also within them. Viewer discretion is advised.

Please note Amazon links are affiliate links

The Heartbreak Handshake (cis m/nonbinary)

Goodreads | Amazon

Clover Hill Romance Series website | Goodreads | Amazon

Sex-repulsed asexual MC, nonbinary MC, autistic MC with sensory aversion to sexual intimacy, MC with ADHD

Content warnings: real-life aviation disasters resulting in death, autistic character faces unkindness for being autistic, referenced ace-phobia

Paxton McKee, Clover Hill’s rideshare driver and handyman, is known by his customers as responsible, dependable, and loyal. On first dates, though, he’s known by another word: boring. His dates never seem to appreciate his in-depth knowledge of famous aviation disasters or his LEGO expertise. His book club buddy, Mrs. Sawyer, keeps trying to set him up. But after so many failed dates, Paxton’s given up on finding someone who can accept him, special interests, stims, and all.

Hand-crafter Remi Sawyer put Clover Hill in their rear-view mirror to sell at craft fairs across the country. But being a traveling artisan is harder than Remi thought. With mounting bills, they’ve ended up back home. Being in their old teenage bedroom is weird. Even weirder, their mother keeps trying to set them up on dates, even after they’ve made it clear the homecoming is temporary.

To get Mrs. Sawyer off their backs, Paxton and Remi agree on a scheme: they’ll go on three dates. When it’s over, Paxton can pretend to be heartbroken, and Remi can get back on the road. They even shake on it. But awkward dates lead to the realization the two have a lot in common. Kissing is gross? Check. Spending quiet time doing projects together is enjoyable? Double check.

But Remi is still hell-bent on leaving Clover Hill again, and Paxton is dead-set on staying. Can they find a new vision that doesn’t involve Remi leaving their kindred spirit behind, or are they both destined to lose the person who might be their perfect companion?

–

Go Truck Yourself (cis f/nonbinary)

Coming Soon

Clover Hill Romance Series website | Goodreads | Amazon

Aromantic MC, nonbinary MC, Asexual MC, bi/panromantic MC, single parent MC, autistic child side character

Content warnings: attempted business sabotage, mentions of absentee parents, brief mention of a parent’s sobriety/rehab, brief mention of a deceased parent, mention of the death of a sperm donor/family member, minors using curse words, family member with dementia, mention of foreign exchange study programs in a positive light, mentions of travel social media and modern colonization

Between being a single parent and running a successful food truck, Myla Horan has no room for drama in her life. She's got her nose to the grindstone to make Tasteful Noods a successful noodle business year-round. But when her friend-turned-rival Zo comes back to town, they start to squeeze into her prime Clover Hill locations… and her profit margins.

After Zo moves back to town to care for their ailing uncle and starts a business of their own, they’re not surprised that Myla’s Tasteful Noods are faring better than their tiny food trailer, You're My Jam. After all, driven Myla can do anything she sets her mind to. Unfortunately, it also means all of the animosity they ended things with has resurfaced.

When Myla and Zo agree there's only room in Clover Hill for one of them, they make a deal: whoever loses the First Annual Clover Hill Food Truck Frenzy shuts down their truck. Forever.

But will serious sabotage leave them both truckless for the competition and threaten both of their chances at victory? Or will they work together as an unexpected dream team and find out they’re better as partners than rivals after all?

–

Getting Off (cis m/cis m)

Goodreads | Amazon | NineStar Press Website

Demisexual MC, biromantic/bisexual MC, gay MC

Content warnings: homophobia, homophobic slurs, bi-erasure, biphobia, sexual assault (on page), forced outing

JJ is certain he’s got everything figured out. He’s straight, right? He’s just not into the hookup culture prevalent on his college soccer team. But he’s trying to hide that to avoid getting on his team captain’s bad side.

Kade is anything but straight. Out and proud, he’s curious about how the “other half” lives… even as his best friends remind him there’s more to the LGBTQ+ community than just the “G.” Curious, Kade texts JJ a simple question: do straight guys ever get off together?

When JJ’s reply leads to a head-spinning sexual spark, he starts questioning everything he knows about his sexuality, both in terms of who he’s attracted to, and also why hookups have never been his thing. But when JJ endures trauma that confuses him more, he starts pushing Kade away. Kade has to learn how to be a supportive friend, and more than that, a supportive partner, or risk losing JJ altogether. And JJ? He has to fight for his team to be team players, even when they suspect he’s “playing for the other team.”

Please note: I haven’t read every book on the above lists, and cannot vouch for them. My inclusion of these lists here is not a recommendation of these books specifically, but instead an indication they exist.

LGBTQReads List of Books by Romantic/Sexual Orientation from @lgbtqreads

EpicREADS list of 23 YA Books with Asexual Representation from @epicreads

QueerBooksforTeens list of books with Aromantic Characters

QueerBooksforTeens list of books with Asexual Characters

Buzzfeed’s list of 17 Books about Asexual and Aromantic Validation from @buzzfeedbooks (cc: @buzzfeedlgbt)

Did you find this post helpful? Consider buying me a Ko-Fi!

[vintage-bentley]

Just adding to the JKR and gay Dumbledore discussion; another thing to remember is that when JKR began writing the books, Section 28 was still in effect and she likely would have had trouble with putting in nondeniable homosexuality in her books. and yet, as the other anon said, she definitely was laying out the backstory even if she thought she'd never been able to show it beyond coding. In addition, the tabloid reporter who wrote about Dumbledore in the final book, the way she wrote about him, Grindelwald (evil wizard boyfriend), and Harry, it was in the very British way of never saying it outright, but insinuating enough to get the point across while still maintaining plausible deniability to get around British libel laws. To a Briton, it would be far more obvious that the Wizard Tabloid was trying to call Dumbles a flaming q*eer who maybe never should be trusted around young schoolboys (sorry for the language, but that was the sentiment in story). American Tabloids don't have the subtlety, so this might not have pinged anything in American readers. Or came across far more subtly. She also didn't bring up the fact that Dumbledore was gay unprompted for press. She was at a Q&A session in 2007, and a fan asked if Dumbledore ever had any girlfriends or romances [there were a few Dumbledore/McGonagall shippers back then, so the fan may have been trying to ask about that]. She replied, very casually, that well he was gay so no girlfriends but he did have a romance (with Grindelwald). The crowd went bananas, and she seemed surprised, said she would have said something earlier if she thought people cared and would be this happy about it. The scriptwriter for the movies did know, as she once had to tell him to cut a scene where Dumbledore starts talking about a girl he liked in school. She apparently had elaborate backstories for all the main teachers in school, but never found a way to make any of them relevant (aside from Snape's) to the story as it's told from Harry's POV, and most kids don't really give a toss about their teachers personal lives. But she always wrote Dumbledore in a way she thought was coded enough that older readers would pick up on it. But she never tried to toot her own horn, with like LOOK AT MY GAY REPRESENTATION!! LOOK AT HOW BRAVE I WAS! PRAISE ME!!! or anything. She wasn't trying to get praise for gay rep without actually having it be gay, like some people...

I guess now is the time to admit that I assumed the evil boyfriend was Voldemort 💀 I was just like “yeah that makes sense” and I understand if the HP fans want to point and laugh at me

A few people have pointed out the existence of Section 28 in both discussions of HP and GO, and it’s incredibly important context. (Especially when comparing how the two books went about it…one still being respectful to gay fans, and the other being like “okay section 28, you don’t want us promoting homosexuality? We’ll take it a step further and make a joke about burning f slurs, you’re welcome”)

Tbh I’m surprised that the Anti-JKR crowd hasn’t called out the inclusion of that tabloid…it seems like the perfect thing for them to misinterpret and bash her for.

From everything I’m hearing about this, it seems like she’s been very respectful and casual about the whole thing. To me, it seems like she had an idea about her character that she legally couldn’t put into the books, and was honest about it when asked. And she seems to understand that it’s not explicit representation that deserves praise, otherwise when she was accused of being anti-LGBT she’d be all “oh but Dumbledore is gay and he’s amazing representation!”. Meanwhile Neil expects praise for being all “A/C are literally anything you want them to be except gay”

Dumbledore aside, I have a lot of respect for JKR’s support of LGB people from what I’ve seen of her tweets. She’s always one of the first to speak up for lesbians when the TQ+ are being lesbophobic, which I think is really important given her large platform. I have no doubt in my mind that she’s an ally, so it doesn’t surprise me that she handled a gay character so well.

It’s so fascinating that a woman can be this respectful regarding a gay character and receive so much backlash…but a man can be Neil Straightman and have the entire internet kissing his ass. And it’s funny that JKR has lost her belief in gender because of how she’s been treated due to her sex…yet Neil’s sex benefits him so much, which allows him to deny the importance of sex.

[ophidion]

It hurts my heart to see the hate that you and other authors have been getting! But most of all you after that horrible "Society scandal"!! You're so talented and doesn't deserve this!

I usually use anon here because english is not my mother language, but this whole situation has pissed me off so much that I felt like not hiding!!! That is the same reason why I sometimes don't leave comments on fics (trying to change that!), because there's so much I want to say that sometimes words escape me (also the corrector (is that the word?) tests my patience!) and since I don't have such a deep knowledge of canon I can't do these in-dept reviews that I wish I could, and I feel like only leaving something like 'amazing', 'so good' is not enough to express how much I loved the chapter!!

Also wanna say this weekend I'm gonna read beacon again! Because there are no words to describe my love for it!

Sending you all my love!!❤❤

Please never feel like you need to hide again!! This made me smile and warmed my heart as I am *also* re-reading beacon and getting back into the swing of things of writing the behemoth that it is.

I hope you know even the smallest comment is appreciated. but you coming in here means the world. thank you so so much and while unfortunately whoever decided to write that decided to tag me as a character, I'm by far not the only person to get hate. or to deserve people coming just to my works.

i myself am behind on reading but my biggest thing is--hey every author deserves a right to be here. toss them a kudos, throw them a comment saying I really loved this!! not just me. especially not just me. i try to be as inclusive as possible and get so excited to chat with other writers whenever they decide to reach out to me. and sometimes. yes, I'm in their DMs being like, we are going to be friends.

everyone is doing their best in the world. we all probably would get judged for loving something so nerdy, which is why I'm tried to come to this space with warmth, friendliness and kindness. so go out there and give maybe a new writer some love. maybe someone doesn't have a lot of kudos, a lot of comments, but its the most vulnerable thing to be putting one's work out there into the world.

(it's my goal to start doing the same once i get a handle on this next chapter :))

[vintage-vermin]

Mini thought;

I will sometimes, once a half year play OSRS again for a bit. I played it when I was a child 20 years ago when it came out and it was my first "real" mmo that the family PC could handle without 13 bucks a month costs.

While you could change your gender in-game since like 2004, it only became a problem to the player base in recent years. Jagex, the company behind Runescape, will do Pride events. These events are optional and can be wildly ignored by players.

Player don't ignore it though, they put on full white robes and start protesting in the capital cities. The most famous saying being "We pay, no gay".

Meaning, "we pay a monthly fee to play this game and as such, we should be allowed to dictate that all LGBTQ+ should not be welcome here"

Warning for the language maybe, but hey, this is how it is, this is how they talk.

Staff has gone on record to say that the hundreds of accounts that do this, are not regular players. Which is amazing to me, rather then looking at your own player base and realizing something over the course of like 15 years, it's easier to say that hundreds of people who don't play this game, make an account, finish like 40 quests, get to level 70, get membership for 10 bucks a month to even get the robes, and then protest in a city for 1 day saying the most heinous shit.

I'm just lost on who has the motivation and is willing to both spend the money and grind skills in RS of all places, just to have a mini platform to be a cunt. From all the horrible things I see people say in the game every time I log in and from the past, I'm very hard to convince that the calls are coming from outside the house, ya know?

I spend time in Clan Chat channels. I hop around, talk to people while playing the medieval fantasy cookie clicker. You very often see very homophobic sentiments being thrown around. Every one is always waiting to rant about the "letter maffia" and all that shit. Recently I was in a chat channel that was quiet for a bit. Just 2 guys talking about some of their health problems. Some one runs in and start saying junk like "Cant stand the lgbtipjsertijegrwnpjige3" I give a 2 word reply of "calm down" we're met with him keymashing for a while. at the end, asking if he missed any freaks? The multiple people that weave in and out of chat stay silent and I shrug and leave the channel.

This is honestly, normal in OSRS, the player base is mostly people who used to play it when they were 10. The problem is that it seems the majority of their brains have also stagnated at that age.

For a game that meant so much to me as an MMO experience combined with the Runescape Forums I was on, it always hard to see that the majority of players are such cunts and are biting their teeth just for the opportunity to vomit their dumb-shit hate.

I just find it sad. Because it brings me to the next piece, group advertisements in MMO's and other games.

Joining random groups can be fine, but you always find someone somewhere who needs to regurgitate FOX news somehow. But, when we search for LGBTQ+ friendly groups, we still have to gamble.

I've joined a few of these clans/groups here and there. The majority of the crowd seems fine and is having fun hanging out and not getting suicide stats thrown at them for just being in the chat.

But then there's always group leads who are a little strange on the edges. Sometimes it's just a young person figuring themselves out and is just watching people more comfy in their expression to hopefully learn and get confidence, sure. I've had that. The silent guy on the side wasen't seething at us just being. He's trying to learn from us.

But, it also happens that the whole group is just a Chaser operation set-up for the leader. I've landed and departed from a few FF14 Free Companies (Player run Guilds) that claimed to be inclusive. Again, the crowd was fine, we're all being led here by the same premise. The sign says welcome and so, I'm gonna feel welcomed.

It was the very caring leader that would often PM you to see what was up. It looks caring, it looks like this person was looking out for you.

But the tone will change.

"We've become so connected together, haven't we? After me talking to you for a month, we're pretty close right? I've ranted a little and shown some weakness as you did to you. We're just so connected. I wanna see you."

The tone really changes when you find out only certain people get these messages. Sometimes you're a little forthcoming about yourself and maybe people find out that you're trans. Again, the crowd is innocent, they just want to hang with similar people and support eachother.

But now the Clan lead is PM'ing you daily.

I dunno, I just hate it online. I liked the internet more when these cunts were contained in their imageboards and shooter game lobbies that they thought to be the entire internet.

Now my cozy corners of the web have been destroyed and I'm forced unto the same platform as people who want to see me dead because of drooling conservative rhetoric or christian brainworm bullshit.

[batmanshole]

If you had free reins over a new batman cartoon adaptation, how would you go about it?

oh god. oh god. anon yuo are about to enter an unskippable cutscene. i love you.

SMILEEESSSS okay so :-) it would be like. multiple seasons. okay? like we're going LONG HAUL on this bitch. it would follow my personal canon of events (mostly post-crisis pre-flashpoint w some modifications and inclusion of a tiny bit of rebirth stuff) and i can't explain how i'd like the art to look but i can picture it.

i'd want it to be very... balanced. like i'd want parts to be dark, but there could still be opportunity for fun. i'd want a lot of focus on motive, on why, on emotions. and maybe not even explicitly you know!! like just. character study stuff.

i want it to show off complicated relationships, where people hurt each other and no one is right or wrong and there's anger where there is love too. and that's not just like the "bat family" in here. i want to explore bruce and harvey/two face. i want to explore bruce and harley and healing from trauma. i want the joker to only be relevant for a few seasons before they start paying attention to other villains.

i think the series begins with bruce in his early days as batman. he's already become batman and has been going at it for a while (we don't need another origin story. there's too fucking many.)

and while i do want to focus a lot on the robins, i don't want it in a WFA-style thing.

i don't know how to explain it but they wouldn't be living all together under one big roof. things happen. people fight. people are outsiders. they try to kill eachother. you know? not everyone is happy together.

other misc. things i wanna include:

barbara stays in her wheelchair 4 ever and is dykey with babs

jason is never fully reintegrated in the family. and if he has to be, it's after a LOT of time and work, and would only come at the end of the series, so there's no awkward jump from villain to Beloved Family Member like there sometimes is in some comics.

running gag of tim drake being lame as fuck. also robin branded skateboard that he falls off of

spoiler rolerskates. enough said. also steph has curly hair

duke has better hair than the fucking. bullshit they give him in 90% of the comics.

damian and talia being visibly brown. NO GREEN EYES!!!!!!!! and they get to interact with their culture in a normal way and people are consulted on this.

bruce is jewish. he has a bat-themed menorah. this is never explicitly mentioned but it is present in the background.

cass' disability is portrayed well. she doesn't speak normally or use sign language but her own way of communicating.

clark is there sometimes!!! they have a thing going on but it never becomes official, not because i don't want them to, but because bruce is shit at communication.

bette cameos. idk how she'd fit in with the timeline i just want her there.

duke and jason being assholes to eachother but like in a way where you're like oh ueah these guys are brothers.

dick and damian being best brothers/father and son ever

DISCOWING CANON!!!! OR ELSE!!!!!!!!! and mulletwing too.

steph takes over as nightwing at least once.

talia written better than 99% of comics have ever written her.

the joker makes a comment about liberals at least once but even the other villains seem sick of his shit

riddler pronoun pin

[tencrowns]

An American Witch’s Herbal: Hosta

Hosta spp.

Common Names: Hosta, Plantain Lilly, Giboshi, Funkia

Type: Herbaceous Perennial

Element

Astrological

Magical Uses

Botanical Family: Asparagaceae

Region of Origin: China, Japan, Korea and Eastern Russia

Hosta, after Nicolaus Thomas Host, who was considered to be an expert on grasses. The genus went through many name changes to get where it is today, though.

Growth and Care

Is there any garden plant quite as ubiquitous as the hosta? It’s a popular pick because of its extreme hardiness--even the most beginner of a gardener would be hard pressed to kill these. Sometimes even when you think they’re gone for good, they have a tendency to rise from the dead and surprise you. While not at all particular, they do have a preference for at least some shade and may flounder if left in hot soil and all-day sun. Planting them underneath trees can be a good way to fill space, provide them protective shade and shelter from storms and hail, if those are issues in your area.

Mostly grown for attractive foliage that lasts from spring through summer, hostas come in a variety of colors and variations including white, yellow, all shades of green to almost blue, sometimes with stripes and splashes of multiple colors on the same plant. There are miniature varieties that comfortably live on office desks like the 4-5 inch ‘Mouse Ears,’ up to the massive ‘Empress Wu’ cultivar, which grows to a mature height of 4 feet tall and 6 feet wide. They put up a flower in summer, usually white or light purple in color, which rarely has much of a fragrance. The exception to this is H. plantaginea and its cultivars, sometimes called ‘August Lily.’

They will spread over time, and you may find yourself having to divide them every three years or so if you want to maintain your planting to roughly its original size. 

General Use

Though here in the west we tend to think of hostas as simply ornamental, in some parts of Asia it is grown as a vegetable. Deer, rabbits, slugs and snails will all happily munch on it, but it is toxic to dogs, cats and horses. Best way I’ve found to prepare them so far is to gather the young, still-furled shoots in spring and prepare them as you would asparagus, maybe by sautéing in a little butter or olive oil. The flavor is similar! (@alexisnikole TikTok/@blackforager on Insta has a great little video where she wraps them in [vegan] bacon!) Once the leaves have opened up, they do take a bitter turn. 

Magical and Symbolic Use

In the language of flowers, the hosta has been used to symbolize devotion. This devotion doesn't really have a specifically romantic bent, as "friendship" is usually another meaning ascribed to these plants. Regardless of the specific connotation, the constancy and resilience of hostas make these an obvious choice for inclusion in rituals designed around growing and maintaining positive relationships.

If you like this post and want to see more like it, check out the tag I use for this whole series throughout my blog: #american witch's herbal