#gogue play

[tomiechu]

Some questions if you would be inclined to answer(maybe). Since I remember reading about your Stanley's lore. What does he do now that's he's no longer the protagonist? Like what's his life now? And very important what's his view on goreguts and Rosemary as such. Sorry if this was answered before. I like asking questions.

WELL HE KIND OF BECAME THEIR SETTINGS PERSON he's keeping things in check behind the scenes & directly talking to the player, keeping the game running and the wheel turning; actively encourages the playing to keep playing tje game so they can keep living and existing. also he likes gogu he likes romary that's his friend :)

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 64: The Darksaber

summary: High tensions between the Mandalorians lead to unexpected conflicts, as well as unexpected gifts.

warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff

rating: T

word count: 5.863k

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chapter 64: the darksaber

It’s only when the hyperloop pod steers them away from Plazir’s domed city that Din can fully relax again, his armored shoulders rising and falling in a breath of relief. He’s aware of Astra moving closer to his side, something that only adds to his new sense of calm. His daughter babbles to Astra all about her and Grogu’s adventures while they were gone in another layer of sweet content.

But Din can’t ignore the way their ally sits across from them with her gaze stuck on the outside world. Bo-Katan’s eyes are glazed over with an anxiety Din’s familiar with, the announcement of their approach to landing field three bringing not a single change to her expression. It brings Din back to the day he first returned to his covert as an apostate, the turning of helmets and tightening of weapons. He can’t help himself from trying to bring her some amount of the same relief he’s just gained.

“They’re Mandalorians,” Din says. The only gaze he earns when he speaks is Astra’s, which burns through the side of his helmet as he goes on. “You’re their leader.” He adds a nod of reassurance. “They’re going to follow you.”

Bo-Katan’s gaze falls before it returns to the transparisteel. “I’m not their leader anymore,” she insists. She peels her gaze from the view of Plazir to look between Din and Astra. “Axe Woves is.”

Din shares a quick glance with Astra and tilts his helmet. “Then what’s your play?”

Grogu coos from the pod at Astra’s side, as if he’s asking her the very same thing. Bo focuses on the little one with her brow furrowed in evident distress. She waits a long moment before she answers. “I’ll know when I get there.”

Din sees Astra nod at Bo-Katan out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll be right there with you,” she reminds their ally. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Bo-Katan looks between both of them with a small smile of gratitude. She returns Astra’s nod. “Thank you.”

The tension of the serious moment is broken by Zora as she points towards the transparisteel. “Luh’!” Zora exclaims, tapping both Din’s and Astra’s pauldrons to make sure they’re paying attention. She points outside again. “Boo!”

“Do you like the blue sky, Zo?” Astra says, her voice soft as she speaks to their daughter.

Zora’s little finger lowers towards the green grass and she furrows her brow as she looks at Din. “Bah?”

“That’s grass,” Din tells her. He keeps his voice low and gentle as he also points to the long stretch of green grass. “There was a lot of it on Sorgan, where you were born.” Din’s visor glances at Astra, who’s beaming at him in the way he adores most. His mind rewinds him to that difficult yet calming time on the agrarian planet. “The grass there was very soft.”

“Gr…” Zora tries to say. “Guh…” She looks over at Grogu in the pod. “Gogu!”

Grogu coos with delight when his sister says his name. “Yes!” Astra says and gives Zora’s head a kiss. “Grogu is the same color as the grass! Green.”

Zora furrows her brow in focus. “Gr… gruh…”

She babbles on and on until the hyperloop pod comes to a stop. Din watches as Astra sets Zora into the pod with her brother for safekeeping before he offers his hand to her to help her stand. The group makes their way out and down to the landing zone, a long stretch of green grass sitting between them and the area that houses the entire Mandalorian encampment.

Din’s so focused on the sight far ahead that he almost misses Astra calling for him. “Din,” her voice remains hushed. Din’s helmet turns her way, his visor meeting her gaze before she flickers hers to the metal hilt that hangs from his belt. “He’s gonna want that.”

“It’s not his to earn.” Din sets his hand on Astra’s lower back, underneath her jetpack. He hesitates and forces himself to go on. “It’s… not even mine to pass on.”

Astra furrows her brow and gives Din a once-over. “What are you talking about?”

Din sighs and swings his helmet away from her. This is a burden he didn’t want her to have to carry, even if the weight of it fell upon his own shoulders the moment he realized this truth. The peaceful rising and falling of her bare back as she slept on his chest that night had only strengthened his resolve to keep it to himself. Now her peace on the matter has been disturbed, and if he’s not upfront with her about it, then the weight of it will only grow more and more for both of them. “You told me that you and Bo-Katan used the Darksaber in my rescue.” Din faces Astra again, continuing to keep this conversation only between them. “Right?”

Astra gives the upcoming Mandalorian encampment a nervous glance. “Right.”

“You said you were the one to finish that thing off.”

Astra’s armored chest inflates with a careful breath. “I was.”

Din runs his gloved thumb over her back. “You defeated the enemy who defeated me.”

Astra’s eyes start to widen at him as the realization dawns upon her. “Are you trying to say it’s… mine?”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “Technically, yes. It is.”

The encampment gets close enough for their conversation to need a conclusion. Astra shakes her head at Din. “I can’t…” she stops, glancing at Bo-Katan, “it should be Bo’s, not mine.”

Din grimaces. “You can’t give it to her.”

He glances at Astra and watches her gaze light up with the excitement of a new idea. “I have a plan.”

Before Din can ask her to elaborate, he’s forced to follow the silence of those who surround themselves. He holds the tension within him as he observes the encampment of Mandalorians. Cargo crates, Kom’rk-class fighters, and the stolen light cruiser take up the space, along with Mandalorians who wander throughout. Once the group gets close enough, every head turns to them, the idle chatter stilling as if everyone’s holding a simultaneous breath.

Din tries his best to remain unbothered. He and Astra stop and stand alongside Bo-Katan as her united front. The hilt of the Darksaber on Din’s belt weighs even heavier after his conversation with Astra and serves as his reminder of just how much their presence could mean to the success of Bo’s mission.

“Have you come back to join the mercenaries?” Axe Woves calls out from where he sits upon a cargo crate.

Bo-Katan remains unshaken by his words. “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet.”

“It’s no longer your fleet, is it?” Axe lifts the cup in his hand in a mock toast. “I’m now in command and grown quite fond of it.”

Bo steps forward, leaving Din and Astra behind. They exchange a cautious look. “Then I challenge you, one warrior to another.” Axe scoffs and draws a sip of his drink. Din watches Bo-Katan stand firm as she maintains her sense of composure. “Do you accept my challenge?”

Axe sets his drink aside and stands. Din holds his breath for a moment, though it gets released in a somewhat troubled exhale once he begins to speak. “There’s no point.” Axe shakes his head. “You’ll never be the true leader of our people.” His attention turns to Din as he gestures to him. “You won’t even take the Darksaber from him. He’s the one you should be challenging.”

Astra tenses at Din’s side. He gives her a warning glance, though he’s certain it’s gone unnoticed. “Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands,” Bo-Katan says, a haunting history tightening her voice into an emotional yet powerful strain. She pauses and looks around the group of Mandalorians that have since gathered to watch the confrontation. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Axe points an accusatory finger towards Din. “But a misguided zealot possesses the blade.” Din tightens his jaw at his harsh words, though his anger is nothing compared to that which Astra thrums with at his side. Her hand’s hovered over her blaster and Din’s given no time to reassure her as Axe goes on. “One, I might add, who has not one drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.”

“If you’re so fond of Mandalorian blood,” Astra sneers from Din’s side before she can be stopped, “then let’s see some.”

Din’s rendered motionless in his shock when Astra uses one hand to unclip the hilt of the Darksaber from Din’s belt and the other to engage the blade in her vambrace. She uses her jetpack to get herself to Axe as soon as possible, and though no formal challenge was offered, the way he lunges at her in return becomes his acceptance.

Without his jetpack, Din’s left to run towards them, leaving the pod where it is as he calls out to her. “Astra, no! Stop!”

Astra and Axe have already gone back-and-forth with a strike of her vibroblade against his vambraces and his defensive maneuvers pushing her and the ignited blade of the Darksaber back further and further. Axe takes advantage of the Darksaber weighing Astra down for a moment and he kicks her middle to force her down to the ground, disarming her of the blade. He’s only able to retrieve the hilt when Bo-Katan beats Din to the fight and flies in with her own jetpack, kicking Axe with both her legs and sending him as well as the hilt down to the grassy terrain.

Bo-Katan and Axe engage in their own intense duel, but Din’s only focused on Astra. He makes it to her side and helps her to sit up before he assesses her for any wounds. “Are you okay?” Din asks, breathless. Astra nods, her cuirass rising and falling in rapid breaths of her own. Din furrows his brow underneath his helmet. “What were you thinking?” Realization hits him as he glances at the Darksaber’s hilt on the grass beside them. “Was this your ‘plan?’”

Astra looks away from him for a moment, her eyes finding the sealed pod that still lets some of Zora’s upset cries escape from it. “I didn’t have time to think of a better one,” she answers, her voice low in guilt. Her jaw hardens with anger as her gaze finds Din’s visor. “And I couldn’t let him say those things about you.”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “I appreciate that.” He steadies himself with a careful breath. “You’re so damn quick on your feet.” Din holds her face between his hands. “But none of this should have to come at the cost of your safety.”

Astra’s gaze falls to her hands as they wrap around his wrists. She minds their audience as she eases his hands from her face and nods, her gaze observing the Mandalorians who watch Bo-Katan’s and Axe’s ongoing duel. “I know.” Astra looks at Din with a crease in her brow. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Din offers her a reassuring nod. “Thank you for protecting my honor.” He stands to help her do the same. “And for your crazy-ass plan.”

Astra laughs, letting Din help her up from the ground once he’s set the nearby hilt of the Darksaber on his belt once again. They retreat to the place where their children await them in the sealed pod. Din keeps an eye on the duel that’s almost reached its end as Astra kneels down to open the pod and comfort the distressed Zora. His gaze is torn away when their daughter calls out for him. “Papa,” Zora whines, earning Din’s devout attention as he steps closer to the pod and sets his gloved hand upon Astra’s shoulder. Zora’s lip wobbles as she points between him and Astra. “Mama?”

“She’s fine,” Din reminds her in his softest voice. He gives Astra’s armored shoulder a gentle squeeze. “See?”

Zora shakes her head and furrows her brow, pointing at Din with even more passion. “Papa.”

Din tilts his helmet until he recalls the way he’d called after Astra when she leapt into the fight. He straightens himself in understanding. “No, baby girl, I’m not mad at her,” he rushes to assure Zora. He wraps his gloved hand around Astra’s head and gently urges it to rest against his hip. “See?” Zora starts to relax at that. “I was just worried. That’s all.”

Din can see Astra giving Zora’s hand a squeeze, but the sudden silence from Axe’s and Bo-Katan’s direction forces them to redirect their attention. Bo-Katan has since forced Axe to yield, though she retracts her blade and stands. Axe is slow to get off the ground and he scowls at Din and Astra. Astra’s back on her feet at Din’s side as Bo-Katan faces the gathered crowd and speaks loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the Way,” Bo-Katan says, “just as our ancestors did. He is every bit the Mandalorian that they were. Certainly as much as any of us.” She glances back at the two of them and nods.

“But according to our ways,” Axe argues, “the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber.”

Astra nudges Din’s side. He looks over at her and watches her gaze flicker to the hilt on his belt. He sets his shoulders and raises his voice loud enough to be heard by those who surround them. “Then she shall have it.”

Din closes the distance between them and Bo-Katan, with Astra and the pod following close behind him. He takes the hilt from his belt and offers it to their confused ally.

“This belongs to you.”

Bo looks upon him with gratitude. “It’s not a gift to be given,” she insists, “no matter how well intended.”

Din glances at Astra and gives his helmet a determined swing. “It’s not a gift.” He steps past Bo-Katan to fully face the group of Mandalorians. “While exploring Mandalore, I was captured, and this blade was taken from me.” Din gestures with his helmet to the women behind him. “Bo-Katan and my wife, Astra, worked together to slay my captor.” He tightens his gloved hand around the hilt. “Astra used this blade to finish them off, which means it became hers.”

Astra steps up beside Din. She offers an encouraging smile as he hands the Darksaber to her. “Then, I used this blade in my fight with Axe,” Astra reminds them. “He disarmed me, and then Bo-Katan disarmed him.” Astra nods at Din, letting him finish for them.

“Astra defeated the enemy who defeated me, and Bo-Katan defeated the one who defeated Astra. Would this blade then not belong to Bo-Katan?”

The crowd remains silent as they ponder the truth of Din’s and Astra’s words. Din scans their faces, though he keeps a particular focus on Axe, whose gaze remains downcast at his inability to find a relevant argument.

“Would it not belong to her?” Din repeats himself.

Axe is the one who starts to nod, his eyes set on Bo-Katan as the aggression fades from his expression. “It would.”

Din and Astra glance at each other before she steps up to their ally. “I return this blade to its rightful owner,” Astra says, handing the hilt off to Bo-Katan. They move together back to Bo’s side, letting her test the weight of the hilt in her gloved hand before she ignites the blade. The surrounding Mandalorians have since tightened their postures in pure respect for their leader.

The moment suspends itself in time until Bo-Katan sheathes the Darksaber and sets the hilt on her belt. She nods at those who surround her, the green of her eyes now gleaming unlike Din’s seen them ever since the moment he won the ancient weapon from Gideon. “We’re going to Mandalore,” she informs them, her chin held high in resolution. “It’s time we return to our homeworld, at long last.”

The Mandalorians share smiles of relief. Astra offers the very same to Din before he sets his hand on her shoulder and keeps her close.

“We won’t be alone in this effort.” Bo-Katan glances back at Din and Astra with gratitude. “Din Djarin’s fellow Mandalorian allies will be working with us.” She waits a beat to quiet any protests, but none arise. Din lifts his helmet in approval. “We’re going to rendezvous the fleet with them on Nevarro to make further plans.” Bo-Katan gestures to their surroundings. “Let’s pack up the encampment and set out.”

Bo-Katan’s words are followed without hesitation. Din tilts his helmet at Astra when she presses her gloved hand upon his cuirass to lift herself closer to him. “Funny how they call you a zealot,” she murmurs, “yet they won’t follow someone unless they have a sparkly sword.”

Din barely holds back his laugh as he sets his hand upon her back and shakes his head. “I’ll give you that one,” he responds with a fond smile on his lips. “But they’re our allies, now. We can’t hold anything against them if we wish for them to do the same with us.”

Astra’s gaze searches his visor, the corners of her lips tugging up in a soft smile. “So wise.” Her voice is a gentle breath as her gloved hand rises to tap his beskar cheek. She takes a deep breath and gestures towards the crowd of Mandalorians. “I guess we should help them pack up the encampment, then.”

Din nods and follows her lead. They walk towards the busy group, though they’re intercepted by Bo-Katan before they can go any further. The Mandalorian leader looks between them with a gentle furrow in her brow. “You two have already helped plenty,” Bo insists. “Your family needs rest before we set out to Nevarro. Let me take you to one of the refurbished cabins on the light cruiser.”

Din and Astra exchange a quick glance. The idea of rest isn’t something they have to debate. With the all-nighter they pulled for the investigation and Astra still fully recovering from her wounds in the siege of Nevarro, rest is exactly what they need for the journey ahead. “Thank you,” Din answers for them, his modulated voice strained in gratitude.

Bo-Katan smiles as she nods at him. “This is the Way.”

The Mandalorian leader takes the Djarins across the stretch of grass, saying hello to those whose path she hasn’t crossed ever since Din won the Darksaber. It fills him with an odd sort of guilt, even if the burden of the beskar hilt isn’t his own anymore. The reminder of it being freed from Astra’s shoulders washes away that guilt with a strong wave of relief. The ancient weapon’s at long last in the right hands, no matter how eager Din might’ve once been to prove himself with it.

Stepping onto the light cruiser is harder than Din thought it would be. The way Astra presses herself closer to his side says the very same thing. He takes her hand, no longer wary of the allies who surround them. The corridors are rather empty with most of the Mandalorians packing up the encampment and loading various transports. That’s something Din’s grateful for, especially as his visor glances upon his exhausted family. He hadn’t realized just how much this one adventure had worn them down.

Din’s starting to think they shouldn’t leave Nevarro with the rest of the Mandalorians.

He keeps this to himself for now, instead focusing on getting his family to rest as Bo-Katan leads them inside a refurbished suite no doubt once given to a high-ranking Imperial. She waves a gloved hand over the spacious cabin and offers a friendly smile. “I’ll return with some food and updates about our departure,” Bo informs them. “I’d like you to join me in the Gauntlet when the time comes.”

“Thank you,” Astra answers for them this time. Her expression is as genuine as the words she speaks.

Bo-Katan nods, dutiful and kind as ever, and sets her gloved hand upon Astra’s armored shoulder as she leaves the suite. As soon as the door slides closed, Din and Astra sigh in unison, drawing a soft laugh from each of them. They step forward and start to make themselves comfortable.

“I’m glad we didn’t even have to ask for this,” Astra confesses. She bends down to the pod and sets the drowsy Zora upon her shoulder, resting their heads together. “You’d think I’d be used to the all-nighters, but I’m well out of shape from our old lifestyle.”

Din huffs and lifts his hands to his helmet. “That makes two of us.” He takes his helmet and sets it on a nearby table and tugs his gloves off with his teeth. Din sets them next to the helmet and cards them through his mussed hair in a vain attempt to lessen the helmet’s effect on it. He stops and looks at his wife again when she remains silent, watching her gaze remain on him as if she’s stuck in a trance. Din furrows his brow and steps towards her. “What is it?”

Astra blinks a few times and looks away as if she’s embarrassed. “Nothing. I just…” she pauses, gaining the faith to meet his gaze again, “you’re very handsome.”

It’s Din’s turn to be embarrassed as he swings his head away from her. “Thank you.” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a smile. “But this is supposed to be a restful excursion.” Din faces her and points his finger at her. “Restful.”

Astra closes the distance between them with a smile of her own painted on her sweet lips. She lifts a hand to his cheek and keeps her voice low enough for only them to hear. “I can compliment you without making love to you.”

Din doesn’t have to see himself to know how deeply his face reddens at her words. Astra chuckles and kisses his cheek before she walks off with Zora, entering one of the two bedrooms and letting the door slide closed behind her. Din’s focus remains on the closed door even as he starts to fidget with his gloves on the table.

A coo from Grogu draws Din from his musings. He turns to look at the little one who’s since climbed out of the pod and onto the table. Grogu’s hands rest upon Din’s helmet as he tilts his head at his father and laughs.

“It’s not funny,” Din mutters, though he’s unable to keep himself from smiling even as he lovingly gives Grogu’s fuzzy head a push. He pulls out one of the chairs and lowers himself into it, resting an elbow upon the table. “You and I haven’t talked one-on-one in a while, you know.”

Grogu babbles an agreement, his petal-shaped ears lowering a bit.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, buddy.” Din takes a deep breath and continues to lean back in the chair. “I’ve put a lot on you during this journey.”

Grogu coos and steps forward, setting his tiny hand over one of Din’s.

“I know you can handle it.” Din runs his thumb over Grogu’s hand. “But you shouldn’t have to. You’re still just a foundling.”

Grogu furrows his brow and tugs on his robe, revealing both his chainmail and the rondel. He points at the pod and then lifts his hand.

Din tightens his lips. “You can’t be an apprentice until you speak the Creed, Grogu.”

Grogu’s expression falls before it hardens in resolve again. He gives his foot a little stomp and points towards the door Astra and Zora had walked through.

“Yes, you did prove yourself on Mandalore.” Din shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s not my decision to make.” He finds a way to smile again as he pats Grogu’s head. “It’s good to know you’re ready for the next step, though.” Grogu coos at that. “They’ll give you my first name when the time comes. Once your apprenticeship is over, you’ll officially earn our family name.”

Grogu claps his hands together in delight. He taps the mudhorn on his rondel and walks close enough to Din on the table to tap the mudhorn on his armored shoulder.

Din nods and gives Grogu’s little hand a squeeze. “That’s right. Din Grogu.” He takes Grogu in his arm and holds him near his cowl. “That’ll be your name one day, if that’s what you want.”

Grogu coos in the affirmative and nestles his cheek against Din’s cowl, closing his weary eyes and taking a soft breath. Din rests his head against the little one’s. He truly owes so much to Grogu and the pure heart that encouraged him to unguard his own. Without him, Din never would’ve met Astra, much less marry and start a family with her. Grogu will always be the beginning of Din’s forever.

Now Din remembers why it was so hard to breathe without him.

The sound of a door sliding open draws Din’s attention over to Astra. She emerges from the room without Zora, her gaze softening at the sight of Din and Grogu. “There are my boys,” she announces, keeping her voice quiet as she approaches them. Astra stops and kisses Grogu’s head before she pushes Din’s hair back with her hand and does the same to him. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah.” Din runs his thumb over Grogu’s hand again.

Astra grins at the two of them. “Do you want me to put him where Zora is?”

Din shakes his head. “I’d like to keep him here for a little while.” He looks down and watches Grogu’s lip curl up in his deep slumber. “I haven’t spent time like this with him in too long.”

Astra’s gentle when she runs her knuckles along the side of Din’s face. “I’m glad you two can have this time.” She gives him a knowing look. “Just have grace with yourself about it. This has been a long journey of ours.”

Din fights the urge to grimace at her words. “It has.” He glances at Grogu and finds a small smile stretching onto his lips. “Grogu’s been very brave through it all.” Din meets Astra’s adoring gaze once again. “He told me he wants to become an apprentice.”

“I remember you mentioning that before.” Astra keeps her hand set on Din’s free shoulder. “Who makes that decision?”

Din sighs, exhaling a troubled breath. “Technically, Grogu does. He has to take the Creed.”

Astra lifts her brow. “But Grogu can’t speak yet.”

Din tightens his jaw. “Exactly.”

Astra crosses her arms over her cuirass. “There has to be another way.”

Before Din can respond, a knock sounds from outside their main door. Din starts to make a move for his helmet, but Astra stops him, taking his helmet and sliding it on for him. He watches her in hardly concealed amazement even as she makes her way to the door and opens it for Bo-Katan. She hands over a holocart of food for their family and lets them be. Astra pushes it over to the table and, after removing Din’s helmet for him, fixes a plate for both Din and herself.

“So,” Astra begins, her gaze flickering to Din before it focuses back on the task at hand, “when were you gonna tell me about the Darksaber?”

Din shrugs, his face warming in shame as he focuses on Grogu. “I was gonna get around to it.”

Astra sets Din’s plate in front of him and uses her fingers to tilt his chin up towards her. “You didn’t have to carry that weight on your own.”

Din smiles at her and the lack of anger she holds for him. All he can see is the genuine care and concern she always extends towards him. “I know.” He frees a hand to take her fingers and presses a kiss on her knuckles. “I just wanted to keep it off your shoulders for a while.”

Astra beams at him and gives her head a loving shake. Din lets both their hands lower to their utensils as they start to eat their respective meals. The silence that sits between them is comfortable even as both their minds continue to work, with Din’s focusing on the events of the day.

“You took it way too easy on Woves,” Din informs his wife. He offers her a knowing smile even as he eats.

“That was the point,” Astra insists with a small laugh. “I needed him to beat me.”

Din tilts his head. “He wouldn’t have had a chance if you were at your full potential.”

Astra raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

Din huffs. “Cyar’ika, please.”

“I think you’re a little biased, my love.”

“Hey.” Din points his empty utensil towards Astra, still keeping the sleeping Grogu balances in his other arm. “Don’t discredit your skill and your strength, rid’ika.” When she starts to smile at him, Din gives his utensil another jab. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” Astra uses her utensil to push his back towards his plate. “It’s just a very kind thing for you to say.”

Din looks at his plate as he responds. “And it’s true.”

“Trust me, I believe you.” Astra fights a grin and goes on. “You’re a bad liar, so I’d know if you weren’t telling the truth.”

Din’s gaze snaps up to hers. “I compliment you and you insult me?”

Astra laughs. “It’s not an insult if it’s the truth!”

Din tries to hold back his chuckle and fails. “I don’t know, rid’ika. That sounds like quite the accusation to me.”

“Maybe I’m just good at reading you.” Astra stands from her place at the table and sets her empty plate back on the hovercart. She approaches Din and runs her hand over his head. “That’s how I know you have something much more worrying than the Darksaber on your mind.” Din’s gaze falls to their sleeping son in his arms. Astra kisses his forehead and takes his empty plate for him. “Why don’t you bring Grogu to bed, and then we can talk?”

Din nods, opting for just the physical reassurance as he stands and takes Grogu where Astra had brought Zora earlier. He sets Grogu beside Zora and lets himself sit with them for a long moment. Din smiles at the sight of both of his sleeping children and dwells upon their visible peace. They, along with his wife in the other room, are the most precious people to him in the entire galaxy. The last thing he’d ever want to do is disturb their safety, rest, and happiness.

He’s done enough of that already.

Grogu’s worried coos and Zora’s terrified wails haunt Din’s mind like the worst kind of living nightmare. It’s all Din’s been able to hear whenever he’s looked at his children ever since Mandalore. The thought of bringing them back there makes Din want to take them across the galaxy and as far away from the destroyed planet as possible. But Din’s a man of his word; He has to see this through. That’s something he has to show his children, too.

Din manages to tear himself away from his children and lets the door slide closed behind him. The common area is empty aside from the neatly stacked hovercart, leading Din towards the bedroom on the other side of the suite. The door slides open and reveals Astra awaiting him, her armor already removed and set aside. Din fights the urge to shake his head at her as she steps up to help him remove his armor and accepts the shirt he offers her. Their work is done in peaceful silence, an acknowledgement of the conversation that’s to come but an appreciation of the love their routine shares.

When they finally get to lay together, Astra lets Din rest his head on her chest and cards her fingers through his hair. Her actions already help to soothe him and the darkness that swirls underneath the surface. The thought of this being their future on Nevarro somehow both helps and hurts him.

“I’m having second thoughts about going to Mandalore again.” Din makes himself say the words before they become stuck to his chest.

Astra’s as gentle as ever with him when she responds. “Why is that?” Her voice is as light as air, a gift to the tension Din’s built within himself.

Din takes Astra’s free hand and threads her fingers through his own. He lets himself take a deep breath. “I’ve put our family through too much already.”

Astra gives his hand a squeeze. “You can’t take responsibility for what the galaxy’s dealt us, Din.”

“That doesn’t quiet Zora’s cries inside my head.”

Astra exhales and kisses Din’s head. “I wish I could take all that pain away from you.”

Din closes his eyes and listens to Astra’s heartbeat underneath his ear. “You already do.” He hesitates before he goes on. “And… that’s why I’m unsure about Mandalore. You’ve been hurt too, in many different ways. I can’t…” He trails off. The memory of Astra’s scarlet-soaked shoulder is too much for him to bear.

“I’ve always adored and appreciated your protectiveness over us, riduur.” Astra’s voice is thick with the wisdom Din admires. “But I know how badly you want to help your people. The speech you gave on Nevarro was as passionate and genuine as I’ve ever seen you.” She gives his hand another squeeze. “You’re a man of honor and you always have been. Our family will learn from your strength while you see this through.”  Astra kisses his head again. “And I’ll be right by your side for all of it.”

Din sighs in sweet admiration and relief. She never fails to say exactly what he needs to hear. It’s as if every burden’s fallen from his shoulders at the mere reminder of her presence and her loyalty. He lets himself rest even more against her as he speaks with the most honesty and passion he can muster. “I love you.”

Astra’s smile is nearly audible. “I love you, too.” She releases his head and pulls him closer to her. “Now rest. Mandalore awaits us.”

Din finds it easy to take up her request, his mind eased of the fears he’s held close ever since he agreed to help their ally. There isn’t a single thing he regrets about the decision to help his people, just as Astra said. They deserve a better life, especially after the way Din’s actions on Nevarro drove them into exile once again.

What Din dwells upon is acknowledgement of the unknown, the shadows cast upon Mandalore that hide the things and the people Din may not be able save his family from no matter how hard he tries. The last thing he’ll do is let that darkness consume any one of them, so long as he can help it.

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[sylvansleuth]

I know you’re primarily D20 but truly why is no one talking about how much Play It By Ear severely Fucks. literally not a single flop, every episode has been amazing!

YEAH play it by ear has been so GOOD!!!!! god i Just watched the recent, by far my favorite to date!!! need me a gogu ride lmAO

[jbbuckybarnes]

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 8

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close  to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: parenting, fluff, helmetless Din, violence, sexism, sibling double trouble, canon divergent, not proofread.

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 8 - Parenting

Grogu was clapping giddily, watching Din hold Dodies little hands. „C‘mon princess, one step at a time.“ He encouraged his one year old daughter. „Gogu!“ Dodie yelled and looked at Grogu who squealed back at her. The little girl took one wobbly step forward, „Good, just like that. Can you do one more for me?“ She took another wobbly step, „Yeees, just like that my little warrior, one more.“ Dodie took another step and then let herself sag, Din immediately picking her up. „That‘s my warrior princess.“ He nuzzled into her belly with a growl, hearing her giggle. His favorite melody. „Dada, Malo?“ She grabbed his bearded cheek. „Yes, dada has some Mandalore duties to fulfill.“ He smiled at her curious little face. You were on a little trip for diplomacy with his best men. He and his group had baby duty. „Come?“ She used his own eyes against him. Oh how he hated that she had his eyes sometimes. „That‘s nothing for little princesses.“ He cooed and tickled her a little but she frowned. „Wawo Pinses.“ She crossed her arms. „Yeah, I know, you‘re a warrior princess, but that‘s nothing for your beautiful little eyes darling. Dada has to be very strict with some people there.“ He explained carefully. „No! Come!“ She pouted at him, stubborn as both her parents. „Dodie!“ He raised one brow, but she held her frown. They held a staring contest for almost a minute before he sighed, „Fine.“ A squeal and claps came in return.

He put on his armor bit by bit under four attentive eyes. His two kids sitting there acting suspiciously calm and good. „You‘re planning something. You‘re never this nice at the same time.“ He squinted at them and got even bigger innocent eyes back. Before putting on his helmet he grabbed Dodies little beskar tiara and put it on her head, making sure it wouldn‘t fall off by weaving her hair around the sides. Then gave Grogu the little pin he liked playing with recently. „You ready?“ Four arms went up excitedly. A sigh came from his deepest soul with a tiny smile on his face, „When in my past did I decide to have a Jedi AND a Mandalorian kid?“ He put his helmet on and picked both of them up gently, left and right.

Beskar spear left, darksaber right. Dodie on his left thigh, Grogu on his right thigh. „Shall I take care of the children, your highness?“ One of his female helpers asked. „No, they belong here. Thank you for asking, Aruki.“ He nodded and looked at the first guest of the day. The man from some far away planet pleading for allyship had gone on for ten minutes when Dodie sighed, „Boro, Dada.“ Boro, that‘s her word for boring and he really tried to not snort beneath his helmet. „You heard the Princess of Mandalore. You‘re boring us.“ He moved the spear to make his two guards move the man. „Well done, princess.“ He gently went over her back and felt her giggle.

„A man on a throne with kids. Pathetic.“ An ex-empire stood in front of them. „Just teaching them young, scum!“ He would need to explain that to you if the kids started using it. „Parenting is a job for a woman. You‘re stooping low.“ He knew he was hitting a spot. The siblings looked at each other and each narrowed their eyes, „Man doo doo.“ „Ba!“ Grogu responded and both of them looked at him like that. „Aww, am I supposed to be intimidated?“ He chuckled at the kids. A crisp humming sound cut through the chuckle, „Yes, you should.“ „Oh, I hit a nerve.“ He held up his hands. „You‘re about to hit a nerve for the last time if you don‘t shut your mouth!“ He chuckled, „Men!“ Four guards grabbed the man to put him into a cell. „Sleepy dada!“ Dodie looked up, came closer to his chest and leaned against the cold beskar. The darksaber deactivated and he put it aside to put that hand on her small back. „Alright, little warrior. Dad‘s here, you can sleep.“ He had found out the weird way that she liked to sleep with her head on something cold.

After dealing with two more guests he let the chamber be closed for visitations and let his people gather in the throne room to prepare a big dinner for your return from your trip. Grogu walked around on the long table they set up and stole a fruit here and there with his big cute eyes looking at these hardened warriors. He knew how to get his food for sure. “Don’t feed him too much!” Din chuckled and looked down at Dodie still sleeping in his arm even after he stood up to check in with people around the room. His fingers gently wandered over her puffy cheek. That’s when you entered the chamber. He didn’t notice, too busy staring straight down at his princess with his helmet still on, unable to see the doors, caressing her face. Your heart melted at the scene in front of you before you felt a familiar grasp around your right leg. You looked down to two big inky eyes lovingly staring back at you. “Hey little womp rat!” You picked him up and heard him coo into your ears and grab at your travel attire. He loved the fluffy cloaks you wore sometimes. He went as far as stealing them to sleep in them. 

Din felt a hand wanting to push off his helmet and snapped out of his gaze at his daughter. Realizing that anyone could’ve caught him off-guard and only his trust in his soldiers kept him safe here. As soon as he caught a look of you he relaxed and moved against your hand to help you get it off. “Softness looks good on a Mandalorian.” You grinned and gave him a peck on the lips. “And that helmet looks good on you.” He winked and watched you putting it on. He looked you up and down in your dark purple clothes, the lilac fluffy cloak, the little bag Grogu had just made himself home in to find provisions, the blaster on your other side and then his helmet on your head. Like a perfect wife. A princess, mother, warrior, queen, diplomat, lover, caretaker, force of pure power. You looked feminine, yet like you could murder anyone around you in seconds. Motherly, soft, strong and he knew you had the skill to kill by now. “I’d kneel in front of my queen, but the Princess of Mandalore needs her naps.” He narrowed his eyes with a grin before looking down at Dodie to give her a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for the nice welcome.” You nodded towards the long table and saw his eyes turn soft. “Of course. You’ve been hard at work, my queen.” He watched you take off his helmet again and set it on the head of a naughty Grogu eating into your little food bag. A surprised distorted sound came back at you and made the both of you chuckled. “Mama?” Now you looked over to Dodie just waking up again. “Yes, I’m back ad’ika.” You went over her hair and back before giving her a kiss.

“She took three steps today with my help.” He shared proudly sitting next to you while picking up another piece of meat. “Is that so, Dodie?” You looked at her in her baby seat across from you and saw her gigantic smile. “Mama is proud of you.” You cheered. “They grow up so fast.” You heard Aruki next to you on the other side. “They really do.” You sighed and looked at your two children talking to each other in baby noises. 

___

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[shyrose57]

For the dbd au how George met XD is he was homeless and not in the best conditio. let’s just say it was a very lonely very cold Christmas Eve and their was a very enticing bottle of whiskey behind a dumpster that led to George waking up on XD’s couch. XD (that’s the only name George knows him by) nursed George back to health and helped him in his feet. A few months later he asked for George’s help with the cult and well, Gogu was in his debt and XD was a very, very strange and intimidating guy.

As for the Dreamin I forgot to mention this but yes, the two are very very similar, as if they were related. The inky difference is The Dreamon has a few more scars and it just a bit smaller than XD.

As for tricks, George only one really is playing dead extremely well. Though, pretending to fall asleep so often for a crowd doesn’t help to much, so he’s pulled into the Dreamon’s dream world much easier.

Poor George! So they weren't too close then, huh?

Any connection between the Dreamon and XD?

And George gets pulled into the dream world easily? How does that work out for him? Does he die often, or does he get roped into the Dreamon's games? Help him out like with XD? Trapped there, and killed? Or maybe trapped and spared otherwise?

[themoonshoes]

3, 5, 12, 20, 35, 49 for dinjael :)

🧍‍♂️

3. when did they realize they had feelings for eachother?

during the super fun super seggsi Murder Mystery arc on batuu/nal hutta. very much a "oh god oh god they're hot but we have a job to do" situation

5. do they have any pet names for eachother?

jael will call din babe or cyare (which he gets very 😳😳 about), but din i don't think is a very pet names sort of person.... maybe cyare as well if its just the two of them

12. how do they like to spend time together? din rly likes watching jael and gogurt interact and play, so usually they'll just go into the woods and jael and gogu will throw trees at each other n stuff. din and jael are both fond of doing separate things but together too, so din will clean his armor while jael reads, or jael will feed her dragon while din naps with goomba, etc

20. what would happen if they were quarantined together?

it would depend on how long i think...... and if baby was there. a couple months? no problem, they both know how to keep busy and give each other space if they need to, but any longer and din i think would get restless. jael would probably try to teach him a new hobby like embroidery or somethingd. but if the bebe is there. My God Help Us All.

35. what habit(s) do they have that annoys the other?

din does not ! take care of himself! what is the point of trying to do work on the ship when you havent slept in 30 hours. to be more silly about it he wold not refill the space brita filter bc he thinks theyre dumb.

jael on the other hand is only serious when She Wants To Be. also if something pushes your buttons she will Know and if she's in a mood she'll push all of them. and a silly one for her is that she would listen to a space podcast while watching a space tv show and listening to space music.

49. who puts their cold feet/hands on the other?

jael :-)

50 questions about my otp(s)!

[betterusernamethanthelastone]

So my sleep schedule has been utter tripe and I've been playing some street fighter while waiting for my body to shut down. You see, where the sleep schedule ties in is my shitbrain always making me call Ryu Goku for some reason. Like I'm facing off against a Ryu but noooooo my brain is just like "g...gogu........."

[universityartmuseum]

UAM@NOON:  CSULB Student Artists Speak

Facebook Photo Album | Facebook Archive Event

Exhibition: INSIGHTS 2018: The Annual School of Art Student Exhibition (May 10 - May 25, 2018) Event: UAM@NOON - May 15, 2018

This focused tour of INSIGHTS 2018 provided an opportunity for undergraduate and graduate art students to speak on their artworks. INSIGHTS is the Annual School of Art Student Exhibition, showcasing the talent of selected students in many areas of study including: Printmaking, Ceramic Arts, Graphic Design, Art Education, Metals, Sculpture, Illustration / Animation, Drawing and Painting, Photography, Wood, and Fiber Art. Here are some highlights of the event.

Doris Rivera’s artwork, Piet’s Playground (2018), deconstructs Piet Mondrian’s De Stijl compositions and comments on the relative decline of figuration in modern and contemporary art. The ceramic babies represent well-known figures in art history as infants, including Girl with a Pearl Earring, Mona Lisa, and The Scream. In dwarfing these characters and placing them within an referential abstract framework, the artist puts figuration and abstraction on the same playing field and raises questions about the figure’s place in contemporary art today.

Instagram: @lunchladydoris314

Justin Lee Rightsell’s abstract photography piece, untitled (2018), captures the results of a single gesture by myriad methods, merging photographic and abstract expressionist processes. It was created by exposing silver gelatin photo paper to different lights, including UV light, treating it with painted solutions, and burning it with a blowtorch. Rightsell opens the photographic medium to physical and painterly practices, and in his focus on a temporal, ritualistic process, the piece questions what a can be considered photography in contemporary art. The artist was awarded the CSULB School of Art's Baldessari Scholarship.

Kiara Machado's painting, Quarenta (2018), pays tribute to her Guatemalan heritage with eight traditional worry dolls hidden in the jungle of foliage. As the custom goes, worry dolls are given to fretful children, who tell them their worries, and hide them under their pillows at night; come morning, the worries will be taken away by the dolls. The veiled self portrait is in homage to mistreated Guatemalan textile laborers that lost their lives in a recent protest fire that turned deadly. A female worker lit a mattress on fire in hopes of getting the attention and sympathy needed for the abused workforce to be freed; instead they were ignored and locked in their quarters to burn. In serving as a placeholder for these women, the artist stands with them and against abuse of power prevalent in slave labor in the textile industry.

Instagram: @kiara_aileen_arts

Katarina Stiller's artwork, Cup of Tea (2018), represents getting lost in the story of a good book while enjoying a leisurely caffeine break. The abstracted ceramic sculpture hung on the wall appear to be faces, unwoven into lyrical curves, like a character in novel taking shape or changing in our mind’s eye while reading. The books selected and stacked under Stiller’s deconstructed teapot were influential to her artistic practice. How did she shape the ceramics into their current curly shapes? They were cut and formed during the leather phase, before being fired.

Instagram: @katstiller  

Lia Gogue's sculptural installation, Presence (2018), is inspired by a trip to her ancestral home of Guam, where she collected volcanic sand used in her sparkling cast sculptural pieces. Gogue also used resin and a CNC machine to incorporate dried flowers and other small items of significant memorabilia from her life into 3D prints. A real volcanic pumice stone accompanies these artist rendered pieces. The arrangement appears to the viewer as natural stone materials and ancient building tools and brings to mind archaeological artifacts and anthropological studies. Gogue was awarded the Jen Grey “Joy of Life” Endowed Scholarship from the School of Art. 

Instagram: @cecilthedeal​_

[d4a2evrlv]

Couples -TIME slipped by - keep the doors open...

As a blog of sorts, it seems to me that based on some friends who are finding stress in their lives, it is time to put some vision on some people who are finding themselves out of sorts with their mates and in need of some motivation to restore their faith in themselves. ��Fortuantely or unfortunately, I am well beyond my nascent days but will take advantage of some knowledge about myself and my mate that I've discovered is similar with others people.  So, here are a few reality checks:

A point arrives in men's ♂ lives when the body no longer produces an adequate supply of nitric oxide(NO), the value of which was documented in 1992, and 3 scientists were given a Nobel prize for in 1998, as they linked it to the cardiovascular system.  You can get more info as you feel it is needed, but you'll find that NO is, among other things, important for men to get an erection.  Why is this important?  My own experience as well as that of many others is that when that part of our anatomy starts to let us down, our self-image also drops.  Our mood changes.  We put up walls around the subject of sex - some people even lose interest in it and that spills over into their relationship with a significant partner...

A point arrives in women's ♀ lives when they too lose some of their positive self image.  It is important to note that the issue related to NO also impacts women ♀.  NO is an arousal booster for ♂ and ♀, so it is important to realize that as aging issues, ranging from dismay that there are new wrinkles in the skin to dryness where you least want it arrive, there is something going on about which couples need to do something.

First and foremost, it is a time to keep open lines of communication with your partner, otherwise the 'drifting apart' syndrome sets into the relationship - doors close, walls go up, men become complacent alone on websites where younger more supple bodies are on display, women feel awkward about even discussing sex, etc.  It is in the 'etc.' where we need to play some games AND take some personal responsibility for our own bodies.  Here there is no attempt to discuss all of the various supplements that are available to combat the multitude of maladies that seem to attack us as time marches on - including NO.  What I hope you might take away, in addition to a few smiles, is an attitude that you can do something about your own life to add quality to it. I strongly suggest that if you are over the age of 50, you look into the combination of diet and supplements that will help you as each new aging challenge arises.  Nobody is going to hold your hand - YOU have to do it if you really want to keep your partner and yourself tuned to the wonderful channel we call life.  People who have good relationships live longer, love longer and generally have more happiness than even the wealthiest of single people.  I will also add that if you are overweight, drink eight 12 oz glasses of water EVERY day.  That might not solve all of the issues related to weight, but if you're overweight, you've likely found out a few clues from other sources, including pushing yourself away from the table, but for more than 50 years, I've had the pleasure of seeing the value of the water aspect of weight control work with unmitigating success.

Now, let's play some games with some questions that you might have asked your partner some years ago, but might not have asked recently...

> Honey, which perfume do you prefer ...  ??   And later, after considering the reply and adding it to the venue,  'Could you do the clasp on this necklace for me ...  ??'

> Come here - it's been way too long since I've tasted your tongue!

> Could you come here and help me decide which panties I should wear today?

> I think we should sleep in the nude tonight, just in case ...

> Do you think you could wear that silk negligue to bed tonight, just in case ...

> Come here and kiss me, I want to see if this lipstick is too smeary to wear today ...

> Oh, by the way, I put one of your blue pills next to your water glass, just in case ...

> Come here, lover, I have plans for your tongue ...

> You taste delicious, can I have a second helping?!

This is just a start, and I hope some others will add comments that raise libidos.  I do have one additional suggestion, and that is to set aside one day of the week where you turn off the TV (I even prefer that the internet and emails are ignored as well), don't allow yourself to engage in memories of when he/she did or didn't do something that annoys you.  Don't discuss the news or politics.  Don't allow yourself to criticize your partner!  (When you have been together for a long time it is way too easy to do it - zip it for a day!) Instead do some things together, whether a game or a walk, but get away from the onslaught of the multimedia world and take a day for living.  Try to use that time to engage in some of the things that made you want to be together in the first place.  You'll be surprised how much THAT can reduce the stress in your life and make handling all of the other days much more tolerable.  Remember, the relationship started with a decision on each of your parts - 2 B By U !

+++++   AS NOTED - THAT WAS JUST A START +++++  CONTINUATION -

A compliment & a complaint - sometimes they just balance out, but I hope some readers will find some incentives to put this into a plus for the guys they love, and maybe some guys will find some incentives to deserve the lasses they love - you get to decide, and comment!

First up is the compliment, and it goes to the ladies whom I've known over time who have been so amazingly well balanced in using their energy to help keep their household.  It includes great respect for the cooking, the washing, the cleaning and then, having the energy left to give TLC to family and friends.  My feeling is that were it not for that awesome naturing and flexibility, the world would nearly fall apart.  I raise a toast to each of you, and some special salutes to those who have done all of this while raising children and even working - those are balancing acts that words cannot adequately compliment.  I focus these comments to ladies, as I believe they, as a group, have been far superior to the men in this regard.  I also want to compliment the men who indeed HAVE been proactive in the same way, and account for solid contributions to the foundations of a balanced society.  There is not space to include all of the aspects of "balanced", but suffice to say that it includes both the mental and spiritual balance.

I also have some complaints, and admit from the start that they constitute some prejudices that I have harbored in my observations of an admittedly somewhat small sample.  Still, I believe they are behavioral and changeable such that the reader could take one or two to heart, and thereby add some great joy to their special loved ones.  I start with a list of things that can be done once a month (more if you find it of value), and here, I would garner support from some and surely not all, but please read with patience:

Not done enough by most men each month: 1. Give compliments and thanks for the supportive things done to add ease and value to your lives, including*: -Making of the bed and changing of the sheets -Grooming the dog and/or cat -Washing your clothes -Ironing your shirts -Cleaning - bathroom, house, etc. -Perparing your meals - not just preparing, but being attentive to what you want

2. Providing motivation for our loved ones to be nicely attired, practice good hygeine and be motivated to the task.  Hugs, kisses, shared funding, good examples set by ourselves all contribute to the desire to do those things, and although there are many who in fact do them, it is not by any means inculcated into each of us to make the effort EVERY DAY to foster those behaviors.

3. Be at home.  Yes, we have jobs, yes, we have to set priorities, but all too often, men do not set the home priority high enough.  Please belive me, it will come to haunt you if you do not do it.  You may have the money to go somewhere else after work, you may have the money to pay a baby-sitter when needed, but by prioritizing this aspect of your life higher, you will garner the motivation to do even better than you can imagine when you elevate this to a higher level in your life.  It may be that many have already experienced these benefits as a result of the pandemic, but if you h have not done so, look carefully at youself...

4.  Be yourself, but remember, the world is and has always been a stage, and it is up to you to determine both the role you will play, and the pleasure you will be afforded.  That pleasure will be afforded on the basis of how you play your role.

5. Recognize that you love has sexual needs, and that there are many ways to meet them. **

*  Sometimes a family has sufficient income to have someone else do some of these chores, but the majority of households DO NOT have such luxury, so it falls to family members to do it.  The brunt of it all is most often borne by the ladies, but hopefully there are a lot of husbands who pitch in to help, and thereby balance the scales for arduous work!

** First and foremost, talk.  You have needs, your partner has needs, and you will spend your life frustrated if you do not get into a head-to-head, heart-to-heart, TOTALLY CANDID discussion about what they like and don't like and how you can reach agreement on when, how, etc.

Not enought done by most ladies each month: 1.  Tell your guy more of what he's doing right than what he's doing wrong.  When you vocalize the 'wrong' - and without question ladies, we OFTEN KNOW when we're wrong - you are instigating the creation of a wall between you.  It is not that we haven't all got walls, but more daunting your approach, the higher the wall.  It is sad, as the "I told you so..." conversation doesn't contribute to the solution.  You may think it will prevent or deter a 'next-time', but often words gogue below the surface and undermine optimal communication. 2.  Don't play the role of the martyr.  If the communicaton lines are broken - work to fix them, but taking that role of the down-trodden is not going to play well for the long-term.  It may get the kids on your side, but be an adult with an eye on balance across the whole family - negotiate - use your resources to move to a position of respectful grace. 3.  Try to understand the word pleasure on a multitude of levels - not just a couple of them, and don't get yourself stuck inside an excessively repeative rut - reach out, go on the internet and find out what other ladies do to leverage both their own and their lover's pleasure. a.  Tell him what you like b.  Be open to some new sensations c.  Prepare for a fun "Date" Lipstick Panties (or maybe NO panties!) Perfume Show-off your assets - tease, buy some exotic things Underrated:   silk gloves a dildo that YOU pick out and use letting him see you play with yourself Invite him, flirt with him, make him a bit jealous d. Taste (one hint, get your man to drink a bit of pineapple juice every day!) Whether you are old or young, your man WANTS to taste YOU!   Take the time to teach him how to find and reach the pleasure points you enjoy! Don't expect he knows everything - he doesn't know you like you know yourself Train him to be your lover, teach him when and how to please you e. NEVER STOP pushing to have sex! As men age, the nitric oxide of our youth does not keep pace with our desire to have sex.  Keep this in mind - at the age of 100 we will still WANT to have sex.  While some pills will help the situation YOU should find out where they are kept and PUT THEM OUT REGULARLY FOR HIM AND MAKE SEXUAL DEMANDS - even if you just put on something sexy and give him some tongue exercise!! f.  Kiss - never stop, never skip a day.  Remember the time you nearly wanted to put your tongue down his throat?  He does, and it never ceases to be part of his fondest memories...

This is probably incomplete, but hopefully it is motivation for some fun in your lives and a catalyst for pumping up you desires to play and be played with throughout your lives.

[gogularaajan]

VIRUS MAIRUS

7 mins 40 seconds directed by Gogularaajan written by Shanjhey Kumar Perumal and Gogularaajan dop by Kumanavannan

Short Synopsis : 

When Neelakandan needs a drink, he will get it no matter what. The short film follows his struggle of trying to score some alcohol amidst the MCO in Malaysia due to the recent outbreak of the Covid-19 virus.

PROCESS :

1. THE BIRTH

We were hunting ideas for the #KumanPicturesChallenge and on 30th March 2020, Shanjhey came up with an idea in our “Sarang Naga” Whatsapp group. He showed us a picture and asked us to guess what the story would be. 

Picture 1 : Whatsapp conversation of Shanjhey, Palani and Gogu.

It’s a story about an alcoholic middle-aged man and his fearful, impulsive journey in search of alcohol, leading him to lose his mind and resort to drinking Dettol. Once we have this, Shanjhey did efficient writing that contains all the important details and structure of the story. This served as a strong base for us to write the screenplay..

Picture 2 : Draft written by Shanjhey. I went on with my ugly scribblings on it.

2. THE WRITING

At first, though I liked the idea, I could not connect myself to the story, it took some time for me to finally personalize this idea. A lot of questions hunted my mind: is it necessary to celebrate the life of an alcoholic? what is the urgency? how well do I know this man? will this be a representation?

My energy was almost drained of all these questions, and at the right time, my friend Shoban (a director himself) came to rescue. Shanjhey shared with him our idea, and Shoban instantly loved it. Shoban stressed that this is a story that should be told. That’s when we realized, that the story has its own spark and purpose, and we shall give it a shot. His words started my engine back.

#Philosophy : I tried to make sense of the story. And also draw its relation to suit the Challenge’s criteria which is horror :

what is horror? it might differ from person to person. but to me, it is basically fear. and fear is not just limited to ghosts or supernatural elements. Fear is broad and has many ways to manifest itself. In real life, there are much worse horrors happening, day to day. this story is also such horror, which is way too common in Malaysian Indian's lives. a man who is willing to do whatever to get his bottle of beer might sound too absurd and unreal to some, but it is, in fact, a very common reality for Malaysian Indians. This is in our blood, ingrained, customized for years. This is how we have been enslaved for years by different powers. when we were in the plantations, they gave us alcohol to calm us down and stray us from our real problems. a quick fix that can melt down our need to revolt or claim our rights. and this condition still persists until today, just that it has taken different forms.

this is my fear reflecting on the society, and also the character (Neelakandan’s) fear of not being able to control his spiking impulsive desire.  i think the most horrific thing that can happen to oneself is when one loses control of himself, or worst when something is taking control of his consciousness. 

I also intentionally wanted to stay outside, at the commentary viewpoint, and not indulge. I wanted a comical portrayal of this story. The story itself carried a very absurd, comical value so I didn't want to mess with it. This allowed me to create displaced emotions, where horror which exists in reality, feels humor.

most importantly, i never wanted to have a moralistic comment/statement. i just want to present the characters and events. i tried my best not to judge the character, Neelakandan. I treated him with compassion.

Picture 3 : Deriving key points of the story to serve as a direction.

After soaking my mind in this idea for about a week, I finally sat to do the screenplay. In fact, I started it quite late, so we didn’t have much time to do many drafts. Initially, Mr.Shanjhey envisioned the movie to be around 2-3 minutes long in duration, but as I was writing, I thought that it will be interesting to follow the character through few more events that can push him to decide for himself. To be honest, the writing was simplistic, I intentionally left some spaces for improvisation during the shoot.

This is the link to our final script used during our shoot : https://issuu.com/gogularaajanrajendran/docs/jpg2pdf

3. THE PRODUCTION

There are no actors. It came down to me to act, damn, I am really a lousy actor. So we tried to ask my dad if he could play this role as he fits the look quite well, better than me. I thought he is never going to accept it because he is quite an important figure in the Malaysian Tamil Literature scene and he has an image to protect. But to my surprise, he said Yes without thinking much.

Picture 4 : First look test.

For the DOP, I asked my brother, Kuma to take care of it. This was his first time, but I have nothing to complain, his work was neat. So it happened to be quite a comfortable team to work with.

Since I'm dealing with a non-actor, I've used certain methods to drive the character into the actor. On the first day of the shoot, Dad and myself sat in my darkroom. I guided him to breath, in and out, as he settles down into a relaxed state, I brought Neelakandan to him, we asked the character’s permission and seek for his help in filming. I love to do this kind of rituals, it really builds our faith in the story and character. It also gives a certain sacred vibe. I love its purity.

Apart from meditation, I used another important technique which is breathing. I have identified precisely, the breathing pattern that the character goes through in each scene and action, and through guiding the actor with the same breathing pattern, it enables him to realize the character from a deeper reality. 

Picture 5 : Im pouring F&N Zappel to the glass faking it as Dettol.

Another thing that I’ve done to get decent acting is, we shot this short film really slowly, one scene per day. Really comfortably, because I didn't want to exhaust my dad. We would shoot 3-4 hours per day for 5 days continuously. And by the end of each day, I would edit the footage.

One very valuable lesson that I have acquired is that it doesn't matter if your actor is a good performer or not, if he is attentive and has surrendered himself to the craft, you can mine the talent.  My dad is, in fact, a non-alcoholic (anti-alcoholic even). My grandfather was an alcoholic himself and my dad has witnessed how alcohol can ruin a man’s life. Fortunately, my dad has observed how a true alcoholic would behave and think, close enough. I requested him to draw inspirations from there, and channel it through the way he behaves, looks, and walks. I also collected some interesting videos from the internet (testimonies of alcoholics in India) and let him indulge in the way they exist. 

3. THE POST

Editing this movie was fairly easy, I had a strong vision of its rhythm and flow. The only scene I had quite some trouble was the one in the lift. I almost gave up, I even questioned myself, why am I even doing this. I again, realized that I’m not a gifted editor, editing really drains my soul. But the reality is, every editing project (no matter how simple it is) will push you into a deep dark realm. It is a terrible place to be in, but then, it is just the process. If we keep on, we will survive.

Picture 6 : Final Timeline of the movie.

I did the editing in quite a rush. I suppose to collaborate with my friend Neroshen on the sound design, but I didn't have the time to send the files over. I end up making the sound myself with my limited resources. The first draft of this film was about 9 minutes, where I intentionally made the last sequence of Neelakandan drinking Dettol longer. I had him to light the candle, kissing the bottle, and glass. It was like a grand celebration after a tiring journey. However, we had to take it out since it was affecting the runtime. In the beginning, I was reluctant to cut it off, but Mr.Shanjhey made me realize that it is better off. In fact the mood was not affected in the end.

Time's running out for submission. Laavanya (sister) and Senthu helped me with the subtitles in the very last minute. Very grateful that we could submit the movie for the competition, I thought that we wont make it.

AFTER THOUGHTS :

Mr.Shanjhey and myself, we are really glad that we took part in this challenge (felt more like a festival! 200+ films submitted!). We don’t really celebrate films enough in Malaysia, and I love Kuman Pictures for that, they really make it a point to celebrate films. This motivates us to practice filmmaking more, because that’s the only way to mastery.

After the selection week, we got to know that our film is shortlisted. Woohoo!

Link to playlist of shortlisted films :  https://www.youtube.com/playlist…

We shared the movie with friends and families and received warm comments. One of the responses that really touches me is from the Five Flavours Film Festival (Poland) when they made a write up about our short film, and shares how they too, feel connected with the character and story, though they are miles away.

Link to the write up : https://www.piecsmakow.pl/aktualnosc.do?id=430&fbclid=IwAR2F1BfMG0W6l8MZ4tTfprfU8zf4RG8EzCGCttP0gQgwI-5scpDjktXVwAU

One weird coincident that hit us, weeks after the making this shortfilm is Donald Trump’s statement on ingesting Dettol to kill the virus. Art becomes life, there you go. Neelakandan is validated by Trump.

And on the 28th of April, Kuman announced that our short film has been selected as the winner for the challenge.

Some lovely articles and responses for shortfilm from online media : 

1. Trootz made a detailed write-up :

https://trootz.wordpress.com/2020/04/30/virus-mairus-no-virus-can-stop-a-man-seeking-gratification/

2. FatBidin Film Club reacted to the movie :

https://youtu.be/FYarPgjRerE

3.  OhSnap Tv made a cool coverage on their website :

https://www.ohsnap.tv/2020/04/30/spotlight-gogularaajan/

4. CinemaOnline made a write-up :

 http://www.cinema.com.my/bm/articles/news_details.aspx?search=2020.n_virusmairusdiangkat_54619&fbclid=IwAR0STOOLByd7K7o5xUUp3NHd3lSINioJ0xbab-QUYY42xZe2mwJzrr2SBvA

5. Thoughts on Films wrote an impressive review : 

https://thoughtsonfilms.com/2020/05/09/virus-mairus-review/

[historystuff2000]

The Elements of The Saz/Baglama 

The Baglama, also known as the saz, is the most commonly used string instrument in Turkey. Cura in particular is the smallest type of baglama and has the highest pitched sound (All About Turkey).

The Baglama has three main parts. The first part is Tenke, which for the most part is made from mulberry trees, woods of juniper, spruce, walnut, or beech (All About Turkey).  The second part is Gogus, which is made from spruce, and the third part is the Sap section, which is made from Jupiter or homespun (All About Turkey). In addition, there are pieces called burgu, or screws, that are grouped in twos and threes, and are used for tuning.

The Baglama is also played with what is known as a Mizrap or Tezene, also known as plectrums, which are made from plastic or cherry wood bark. In other regions, the fingers are used instead to pluck the instrument (All About Turkey).

Sources: 

Senn, Jeff. “So, You Are Trying to Play the Bağlama Saz...” Jas's-- Beginning Saz Stuff, http://www.khafif.com/rhy/saz/.

Sansal, Burak. “Musical Instruments of Turkey.” Musical Instruments of Turkey - All About Turkey, http://www.allaboutturkey.com/music-instruments.htm#kemane.

[blogpicturesdonalexander]

О колебании прототипа – Величие художника Винсента Ван Гога, часть 2.

Настоящий Винсент Ван Гог имел мало общего с «Винсентом» Мейер-Грефе. Начать с того, что он окончил престижную частную гимназию, свободно говорил и писал на трех языках, много читал, чем заслужил в художественных парижских кругах кличку Спиноза. За Ван Гогом стояла большая семья, которая никогда не оставляла его без поддержки, хотя и была не в восторге от его экспериментов. Его дед был известнейшим переплетчиком старинных манускриптов, работавшим для нескольких европейских дворов, трое из его дядей успешно торговали искусством, а один был адмиралом и начальником порта в Антверпене, в его доме он жил, когда учился в этом городе. Реальный Ван Гог был довольно трезвым и прагматичным человеком. Винсент Ван Гог. 1873 год Например, одним из центральных «богоискательских» эпизодов легенды с «хождением в народ» стал факт, что в 1879 году Ван Гог был проповедником в бельгийском шахтерском районе Боринаж. Чего только не насочиняли Мейер-Грефе и его последователи! Тут и «разрыв со средой» и «стремление пострадать вместе с убогими и нищими».  Объясняется же все просто. Винсент решил пойти по стопам отца и стать священником. Для того чтобы получить сан, необходимо было пять лет учиться в семинарии. Или — пройти ускоренный курс за три года в евангельской школе по упрощенной программе, да еще бесплатно. Предварял все это обязательный полугодичный «стаж» миссионерства в глубинке. Вот Ван Гог и отправился к шахтерам. Конечно, он был гуманистом, старался помочь этим людям, но сближаться с ними и не думал, всегда оставаясь представителем среднего класса. Отбыв положенный срок в Боринаже, Ван Гог решил поступать в евангельскую школу, и тут оказалось, что правила изменились и голландцам вроде него, в отличие от фламандцев, надо платить за обучение. После этого обиженный «миссионер» оставил религию и решил стать художником. И этот выбор тоже не случаен. Ван Гог являлся профессиональным торговцем искусством артдилером в крупнейшей фирме «Гупиль». Партнером в ней был его дядя Винсент, в честь которого и назвали юного голландца. Он ему покровительствовал. «Гупиль» играл ведущую в Европе роль в торговле старыми мастерами и солидной современной академической живописью, но не боялся продавать и «умеренных новаторов» вроде барбизонцев. За 7 лет Ван Гог сделал карьеру в непростом, основанном на семейных традициях антикварном бизнесе. Из амстердамского филиала он перебрался сначала в Гаагу, потом в Лондон и, наконец, в штаб-квартиру фирмы в Париже. За эти годы племянник совладельца «Гупиля» прошел серьезную школу, изучил основные европейские музеи и многие закрытые частные собрания, стал настоящим экспертом в живописи не только Рембрандта и малых голландцев, но и французов  от Энгра до Делакруа. «Находясь в окружении картин,  писал он,  я воспылал к ним неистовой, доходящей до исступления любовью». Его кумиром был французский художник Жан Франсуа Милле, прославившийся в то время своими «крестьянскими» полотнами, которые «Гупиль» сбывал по ценам в десятки тысяч франков.  Брат художника Теодор Ван Гог Вот таким преуспевающим «бытописателем низших классов», как Милле, собирался стать и Ван Гог, используя свое знание жизни шахтеров и крестьян, почерпнутое в Боринаже. Вопреки легенде артдилер Ван Гог не был гениальным дилетантом вроде таких «художников воскресного дня», как таможенник Руссо или кондуктор Пиросмани.  Имея за плечами фундаментальное знакомство с историей и теорией искусства, а также с практикой торговли им, упорный голландец в двадцать семь лет приступил к систематическому изучению ремесла живописи. Начал он с рисования по новейшим специальным учебникам, которые ему со всех концов Европы присылали дяди-артдилеры.  Руку Ван Гогу ставил его родственник, художник из Гааги Антон Мауве, которому позже благодарный ученик посвятил одну из своих картин. Ван Гог даже поступил сначала в брюссельскую, а затем в антверпенскую Академию художеств, где проучился три месяца, пока не отправился в Париж.  Туда новоиспеченного художника уговорил в 1886 году уехать его младший брат Теодор. Этот бывший на подъеме успешный артдилер сыграл ключевую роль в судьбе мастера. Тео посоветовал Винсенту бросить «крестьянскую» живопись, объяснив, что это уже «паханое поле». И, кроме того, «черные картины» вроде «Едоков картофеля» во все времена продавалась хуже, чем светлое и радостное искусство.  Другое дело  буквально созданная для успеха «светлая живопись» импрессионистов: сплошное солнце и праздник. Публика рано или поздно ее обязательно оценит.

About the oscillation of the prototype - the greatness of the artist Vincent Van Gogh, part 2.

The real Vincent Van Gogh had little in common with Vincent Meyer-Graefe. To begin with the fact that he graduated from a prestigious private gymnasium, fluently spoke and wrote in three languages, read a lot, which earned him the name of Spinoza in Parisian artistic circles. Behind Van Gogh stood a large family that never left him without support, although she was not thrilled with his experiments. His grandfather was a famous bookbinder of ancient manuscripts who worked for several European courtyards, three of his uncles successfully traded art, and one was admiral and chief of the port in Antwerp, he lived in his house when he studied in this city. The real Van Gogh was a rather sober and pragmatic man. Vincent Van Gogh. 1873 For example, one of the central “God-searching” episodes of the legend “going to the people” was the fact that in 1879 Van Gogh was a preacher in the Belgian mining district Borinazh. Why not just make up Meyer Graefe and his followers! Here and "break with the environment" and "the desire to suffer along with the poor and the poor." Everything is explained simply. Vincent decided to follow in the footsteps of his father and become a priest. In order to get a dignity, it was necessary to study at the seminary for five years. Or - to take a crash course in three years in a gospel school under a simplified program, and even for free. All this was preceded by a mandatory semi-annual "experience" of missionary work in the outback. Here is Van Gogh and went to the miners. Of course, he was a humanist, he tried to help these people, but he did not even think of coming closer to them, always remaining a middle class. After serving his due date in Borinage, Van Gogh decided to enroll in a Gospel school, and it turned out that the rules had changed and the Dutch like him, unlike the Flemish, had to pay tuition. After that, the offended “missionary” left religion and decided to become an artist. And this choice is also not accidental. Van Gogh was a professional art dealer art dealer in the largest company Gupil. Partner in it was his uncle Vincent, in whose honor and named the young Dutchman. He patronized him. "Gupil" played a leading role in Europe in the trade of old masters and solid modern academic painting, but was not afraid to sell "moderate innovators" like Barbizon. For 7 years, Van Gogh made a career in a difficult, based on the family tradition of the antique business. From the Amsterdam branch office, he moved first to The Hague, then to London and, finally, to the headquarters of the company in Paris. Over the years, the nephew of the co-owner of the Gupil passed a serious school, studied the main European museums and many private collections, became a real expert in painting not only Rembrandt and small Dutch, but also the French - from Ingres to Delacroix. "Being surrounded by paintings, he wrote, I was kindled to them with a fierce, frantic love." His idol was the French artist Jean-François Millet, who was famous at that time for his “peasant” canvases, which Gupil sold at prices of tens of thousands of francs. Theodor Van Gogh's brother The van Gogh was going to become such a successful “byte-writer of the lower classes,” like Millet, using his knowledge of the life of miners and peasants, drawn in Borinage. Contrary to the legend, artdiler Van Gogh was not a brilliant amateur such as “artists of Sunday”, like the customs officer of Rousseau or the conductor Pirosmani. Having a fundamental acquaintance with the history and theory of art, as well as with the practice of trading them, the stubborn Dutchman at the age of twenty-seven years began a systematic study of the craft of painting. He began by drawing on the latest special textbooks, which were sent to him by art dealers from all over Europe. Hand Van Gogu put his relative, an artist from The Hague Anton Mauve, to whom the grateful student later dedicated one of his paintings. Van Gogh even entered first to Brussels and then to the Antwerp Academy of Arts, where he studied for three months until he went to Paris. There, the new artist persuaded in 1886 to leave his younger brother Theodore. This former successful artdiler played a key role in the master's fate. Theo advised Vincent to quit the “peasant” painting, explaining that this was already a “tillage field”. And besides, “black paintings” like “Potato Eaters” were sold at all times worse than bright and joyful art. Another thing literally created for the success of the "bright painting" of the Impressionists: a solid sun and a holiday. The public will sooner or later appreciate it.

[camisolecutey]

🧡 - 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵

NAME: Camisole ‘Camie’ Briefs

AGE: 8 years (kid verse)

         18 (teen verse, patroller verse)

RACE: hybrid saiyan (half human/half saiyan)

GENDER/SEX: female

ORIENTATION: bisexual w/ a female lean

BIRTHDAY: July 11th, Age 790

HAIR COLOR: lavender

EYE COLOR: black

HEIGHT: 5′9 BIO: As much as her heritage leads to believe, she is not a great warrior of the cosmos. No, the thought of being such is unfathomable to her, as while the potential is there, the motive is not. And such, it stays that way, as further the Saiyan lines part from humanity. But sooner or later, the thought does occur to her, and maybe it is out of obligation that she becomes a great warrior as both her grandfathers were, but it will be a long way to go.  After all, she is more human than saiyan, as much as her blood says she is, and it’s been about fifty years since the Saiyans perished.  From the moment she was born, a link was formed between Goku’s and Vegeta’s families. A rather unusual event, seeing as the eventual fate of their lines is to greatly become diluted with each passing generation but her presence delays the dilution a little while longer. That is, if only because her existence was either wished into existance by accident (male trunks as a parent) or intentionally during her parents’ wedding night (female trunks as a parent). One thing’s for certain, she is the daughter of Trunks Briefs and Son Goten, and it shows.  Trunks won the naming rights as soon as she willed to existence. And maybe because he (or she) needed an heir to Capsule Corp (but wasn’t in too much of a rush to get to it), and thus she also gets the Briefs name first. But it isn’t unusual if she’s refered to as Son Camie, even if it’s rare she’ll be referred to by her father’s last name. 

PERSONALITY:

As a kid, she was rather rambunctious. With such a high level of energy, she took to training under her grandpas Goku and Vegeta a lot, if only for fun, but Grandpa Veggie takes things too personal sometimes and trains her seriously. She likes it, though, even as much as her grandfather pushes her to her limits. It’s fun. It’s a bit more laidback with Grandpa Gogu, in that case, but he doesn’t hesitate to show her how to fire a Kamehameha. However, Grandpa Veggie’s training is more of an influence, and she just loves to show around her skills at firing Galick Guns. (You can’t imagine the sheer panic at trying to stop her from firing it for everything.) She’s rather tomboyish as a kid as well. Rough and tumble is just a facet of her life, despite her Aunt Bra being desgruntled at her little niece for being so dirty much of the time, but that doesn’t really stop her from calming down and being girly sometimes. Playing with dolls or stuffed animals is just her thing sometimes, or having tea parties. It’s a nice break from the fighting. However, with toys, she gets interested in Trunks’ sword, even if its a too big fit for her sometimes. 

And then, she moves on to knives. A smaller version of the sword, she used to think as a kid, but later learns that it isn’t a small sword, but rather another weapon of its own. And she likes it. It’s terrifying to think a kid her age would be so interested in knives and how to use them, but it doesn’t matter for her. She soon grows to work with it as she grows up, and it becomes just a facet for her as the sword becomes for Trunks.  When she becomes a teenager, her attitude is considerably mellowed. Her knife ability has considerably improved, with two original ki based attacks invented by further training, the Thousand Cut Barrage and Shooting Star Strike. Training and fighting are still fun, although she has lessened doing this recently, focusing on her eventual ascension to Capsule Corp and on her appearance. After all, as she’s so removed from the original Saiyan want for battle, and fighting is only a form of fun for her. 

However, her easygoing nature stops there. After all, she has the weight of two saiyan bloodlines on her and Capsule Corp, and that drives her to occassional bouts of anxiety and depression. After all, with so much hanging on her, how could she keep up? And thus, she tends to hide it behind a smile, behind an easygoing attitude.

PATROLLER VERSE: As her father is Xeno Goten, she accidentally clings to him during one of his trips to Conton. Normally, this would be cause for alarm, seeing that an eight year old has literally gotten herself accidentally involved in Time Patrol matters. But after seeing her then ten year old cousin Pan, and demonstrating her potential and power in a series of tests by her technically future father, she joins as a rather last-resort patroller.  Years later, and after a ton of experience in both missions and in training, she becomes a rather adept time patroller. However, due how she got in, she absouletely insists on either joining along with her father Goten or in a group. She’s rather easygoing with other patrollers, although she tends to hide her usual fear and apprenhension with a laugh. However, she is as serious a fighter than anybody.