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frostymj · 16 days

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I wanted to do more for Prodigy Celebration, but I'm having some creativity block right now.

But there was a short story I posted to the Discord some time ago, but haven't posted anywhere else. I thought today might be a good day.

Minor mentions of hunger, imprisonment, death, not graphic. Just a conversation shortly before Lost & Found. I tried to imagine the scene of Dal first telling Gwyn about the Window of Dreams. Good ending.

Prisoner Dal R'El grunted with determination as he climbed the metal walls of his detention cell on Tars Lamora. Close enough to the ceiling, he pushed himself to reach out, and was successful this time at grabbing hold of the ventilation grate.

He wasn't known for being the strongest kid by far, but he was agile enough to pull himself up to peer through the wire mesh to the fan mechanism inside, to see if the ventilation shaft was big enough for him to possibly squeeze through.

"The vent pipe is only 10 centimeters in diameter. You're not that skinny."

Realizing he'd been caught, Dal shot his attention to the voice outside the cell.

Gwyndala, the prison warden's daughter, stood casually with her arms crossed, amused by his antics.

Dal let go of the grating and landed heavy on his feet. "Gwyn! What brings you all the way down here..." He stepped toward the opening, careful not to get shocked by the force field, so he could see if anyone else was with her. "...with no watchers?

Gwyn sighed. "Just thought I'd see how you're doing so far. Figured maybe this could help." She pulled a honey lychee from her concealing robes and placed it through the passthrough. She knew it was his favorite, and watched as Dal's eyes widened, but he tried to act casual as he took it and bit.

"How long has it been now?", he mumbled through chewing.

"Three days."

"Hm. Could've sworn it's been four." He sat cross legged on the floor. "But, you know, brain gets fuzzy without food or water after a while."

"Five days detention. You know the rules for trying to escape. Just like last time, and the time before that." It was a grueling punishment. Some didn't survive it. But Dal was particularly resilient. She couldn't help but add "still better than where you would've wound up if you hadn't been caught."

"I would've figured something out," he gave his usual protest.

"You hid in the chimerium loading car, about to be dumped into smelting. It would've roasted you. How would you figure that out?" She was hoping a challenge would prompt him into telling her his next move.

But he just chuckled. "C'mon Gwyn, where's your sense of adventure? Oh that's right, it got locked away in these dungeons along with the rest of us."

Of course she bristled at his attitude, but she couldn't deny part of her was drawn to the truth of his words. Something she was starting to realize she wasn't getting from her father.

"All you have to do is keep your head down, and you'll survive." She tried not to sound too concerned for his safety, but she was.

He paused before his next bite and shot a piercing look up at her. "You know your father's going to work us all to death in these mines anyway. What difference does it make?"

Gwyn closed her eyes. Again, he was right. Her heart ached for all of them.

"But I know that's not going to be me."

She scoffed. "How do you know that?"

Dal pondered down at the half eaten lychee for a few quiet moments.

His voice was more gentle when he spoke. "Have I ever told you about the Window of Dreams?"

When they first met, she wouldn't have expected such softness from him. But over their conversations she had caught glimpses of a tenderness underneath his bravado and biting sarcasm. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's a pulsar cluster. The most beautiful nebula." He gazed up at the walls of his cell, but he wasn't looking at them. His wistful smile told her he was back on the ship, gazing into the stars.

She was stung by the longing to be out there too.

"Waves of vibrant red and wisps of blue, with a heavenly white light at the center. And they emit an electromagnetic resonance that makes the hull of the ship sing like a choir of angels."

Gwyn leaned her shoulder against the door frame outside the cell, and lowered herself to the floor with him to listen.

"They say if you gaze into it long enough, you can see your future."

"And what did you see?"

He shifted closer to lean against the door frame himself. They were now separated only by the force field between them. He closed his eyes to remember the moment, still smiling gently. "Adventure,.. freedom,.. safety,.. family,.. love..." his voice tapered off.

Gwyn considered him quietly with a smile of her own. She wouldn't have guessed he dreamed of such sentimental things with such reverence.

"...that's how I know I'm getting out of here," he finished with renewed confidence, finishing the lychee.

She wanted that for him. She couldn't help but admire the courage of holding onto that hope.

With nothing edible left, he put the core of the fruit back through the passthrough "What about you?"

She was caught off guard and again looked up to see his bold eyes imploring gently into hers. She had never felt so connected to anyone than in that moment.

"What are your dreams?"

Gwyn blinked back to reality when she realized no one had ever asked her that before. "...I don't know," she felt a little embarrassed as she answered sadly. She half expected him to laugh at her lack of life experience. But she only saw a sympathetic smile. He wanted more for her too.

The moment was interrupted when the familiar clacking of metallic feet, and the chittering of approaching watchers on patrol startled her. Drednock must have noticed the surveillance cameras offline.

By the time the robots had rounded into the corridor of detention cells, they spotted the Diviner's Progeny standing over the prisoner.

"I suggest you think carefully about your insubordination," Gwyn coldly chastised him. "We won't be so generous next time." She abruptly turned to leave, but not without sneaking a sorrowful glance at him. He countered with a knowing smirk as she walked away. She was forced into this role, as trapped as he was.

---

It was some months later Gwyn stood at the windows lining the ready room of the USS Protostar.

Acting Captain R'el walked up from behind to join her. They both gazed out to the stunning sight of the Window of Dreams, singing it's glorious song against the ship's hull all around them.

"What do you see?" he asked.

She gently started crying with happiness as she took his hand in hers and leaned into him. Nothing separating them anymore.

Adventure,.. freedom,.. safety,.. family,.. love...

#star trek prodigy #celebrate prodigy #celebration of prodigy #star trek #dal r'el #gwyndala #dal x gwyn #gwyndal #window of dreams #lost and found #fanfiction

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dectech · 1 year

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a spoopy little Rain World thingy

I wrote most of this over a discord chat, and it didn’t really port well over to tumblr format, so sorry if it’s a bit of a mess in some places. Also, it gets pretty long, and it’s about corpses in Rain World, so I’ll be putting it under a cut a few paragraphs in.

So, I’ve been thinking about the nature of corpses in Rain World recently. I'd imagine, living in the rain world universe, you'd occasionally see your own corpse around, right? A fairly grisly sight, but not a completely alien one like it’d be in our’s plus, if you're still around to see it, then of course it's not that bad in the end, just a little unpleasant, and if you're in a situation like survivor's, where you've been separated from society, or are otherwise living and dying in a generally unsafe situation, the sight of your own corpse may even be somewhat common just one of those casual, uncomfortable things in day-to-day life

but...

but imagine seeing your own corpse in a place where you don't remember dying

imagine seeing your corpse in a place you certainly haven't even been before

as common as the experience of death is in Rain World, it still isn't something that's forgotten easily and yet on closer inspection, it most certainly is your body it bears not merely the color of your scuggy body, but also your clothes, and all the little things that make up your appearance, from scars to birthmarks, so...

“...what on earth is going on here?”

These are the thoughts running through Survivor's head shortly after they crawled through a random, obscure pipe and into what appears to be a large, open facility of shipping yards, cargo bays, and warehouses.

Upon their arrival, what immediately struck them was the total lack of color. From the cold concrete beneath their feet, to the dulling of the paints on all the warehouses and shipping containers, to even the light of the sun through the overcast, the place was unmistakably grey. It seemed like such a simple characteristic to the environment, yet it was in complete contrast to everything they'd seen before

Everywhere they went previous, there was at very least some splash of color here and there, from rotting, ancient decorations to new life sprouting from the remains of the old and that lead them to the second strange thing about this place; the total lack of life There was an intense sense of desolateness that filled the air in place of the scents and sounds of a place more lived-in and even in the concrete they walked on, though it had shown signs of seasonal wear-and-tear from weather and entropy, it was clear that such was all the wear-&-tear it had seen in a very, very, long time for one reason or another, it seemed this place had sat unoccupied for years upon years upon years, possibly even before the ancients had left. That was until Survivor discovered their own body in a place it shouldn't be.

Previously, Survivor had been motivated into traversing the Hollow Shipyard out of what it could possibly hold. Who knew what bounties those cargo containers could hold? What old stories hidden in data could be lying around in a place that would have seen so much activity, so much passing through? Furthermore, the shipment of cargo necessitates transit. Perhaps there was some way beyond, to a place where their family, or at least a family, could be?

but now, as Survivor stared down at a Survivor they didn't remember being, dread began to settle in their gut like a lead pearl. Paranoid "what-ifs" began to creep into their head For example, it seemed not even the ancients had went here in a long time, relative to the date of their ascension. What if they had a more dire reason to abandon this place? Why was there nothing here? Was there some kind of toxic chemical leak here, from the cargo or something? Was it something worse? They considered turning around and leaving on the spot, but...

Well, not being here apparently didn't stop them from... dying there without realizing something very wrong was going on, and it would continue happening even without their presence, it seemed. At least if they kept investigating, they might have a chance at figuring out what to do about it, if there even WAS anything that could be done

They pressed forward, and now that they first saw it, they couldn't unsee it. the ground was littered with their own corpses, even in places they could have sworn they'd walked right over. Okay, perhaps it would be best to leave sooner rather than later, they reasoned. They decided they'd just open a few of the shipping containers, see what's inside, maybe loot them, scrounge around for some pearls for Moon, if they can find any, and head right back. Who knows? Maybe they'd open a container to find some barrels of toxic waste, and Moon'd say that one of the effects of the toxin is amnesia or something, and they'd never have to come here ever again. they pried open the doors on one of the shipping containers, and what they saw froze them in place near-instantly.

it was covered & filled, wall-to-wall, even floor to ceiling in some places, with mutilated corpses, and nearly all of them were Survivor's, at least, alongside a few faces they didn't recognize, and others they wish they didn't.

Mauled, tortured, disembowled, impaled by rebar spikes stuck in the wall, you name a horrible, gory way to die, and you'd see an example in that sheet-metal cave And what's worse is how it was so plainly clear none of it was post mortem- they all had expressions of horrid agony on their faces. As The Survivor was stuck staring, they couldn't help but realize how they'd all been fused together, a fact almost hard to notice just from the sheer mass and chaos of the pile. They were connected by globs and strands of silky, white flesh, although it mostly seemed to depend on the color of the slugcat it was sprouting from, in the odd case of a corpse that wasn't Survivor's It was reminiscent of parasitic Rot, but this wasn't Rot. although Survivor couldn't have known it at the time, deep down they just knew that this was worse than Rot. much worse Eyes wide, heart pounding, Survivor slowly and carefully shut the door of the shipping container, sliding the metal bar that was the basic locking mechanism back in place, as if afraid the corpses would somehow wake.

As they turned to leave, this fear was realized All of the corpse seen littering the ground previously had begun to twitch and writhe. Beneath them, those same silky strands, now exposed as the bodies tried to roll over, sank into the earth, like the roots of a much larger organism. Behind them, they heard a “choir” of what vaguely resembled a struggling attempt at wheezing and the unmistakable sound of shaking metal.

The shaking escalated until it was undeniable that the entire shipyard, with what had to have been thousands of containers, was rattling and shaking as if caught in an earthquake, the psuedo-wheezing now having progressed into an ocean of terrible sound, the wails of the damned, with a force that had to have been tens of thousands of voices strong, flooding Survivor's ears like deathrain

So much of that hell-choir was their voice, good lord, why was so much of it them? why them?! they didn't think about why so much of that auditory hellfire belonged to them, as the sound of several metal bars and locks breaking in unison sent them running faster than they ever had before they didn't think about the rhythmic pounding of what could only be the footsteps of something massive rushing forward to meet them they didn't think about the shadow that suddenly blocked out the sky above them they didn't think about how, when they inevitably did end up catching a glimpse of a giant, psuedopod-like appendage coming down to earth, it was nearly all white they didn't think about how the cries they heard behind them were not of anger, not war-cries, but universally cries of misery, fear, and unknowable pain they didn't think about the other faces they saw in that container they didn't think about the other faces they recognized they didn't think about the hints of other colors amongst the white they didn't think about the hints of blue & pink, they didn't think about the spiny patches of dark violet, they very much didn't think about the hints of black and they absolutely didn't think about the hints of yellow they didn't look back they didn't look back despite everything, they didn't look back despite the voices of others they recognized becoming more and more prominent, they didn't look back despite being able to pick out the voices of the ones they cared about with increasing proficiency, they didn't look back despite being struck by the thought of corpses like tree rings, the ones you see are merely the most recent victim, and perhaps there is no bias towards Survivor at all, perhaps the ones they care about have been favored just as much-

-no no, they didn't think that they didn't think that, and they didn't look back they didn't see their faces they didn't see so many faces they didn't see them in so much pain

so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so much p a i n

they didn't, they didn't, they didn't they didn't despite how much the vivid memory of the sight was burning itself through their psyche, as it would continue to do for the rest of their life, they swear to god they didn't they didn't drop to their knees, finally broken, finally reduced to a sobbing mess under the force of it all, a lead brick on the back of a rain dear already carrying a mountain of hay they weren't summarily subsumed into the mass, damned to eternal suffering in a hell with no god to offer salvation nor devil to give any meaning to the suffering, just suffering, suffering until your mind broke and devolved into an incoherent mess and what remained was whittled away at until there was no more “you” they weren't they didn't look back they just ran they ran back to the pipe they came from they crawled as fast as they could through the pipes as they were followed by a rush of liquid flesh they ran and crawled and crawled and ran for felt like lifetimes until they reached the other side they were tired, yet they could still sense the pursuit, and so they continued until they found a cherrybomb, stuffed it in their mouth, and bit down until a pop turned their skull into colored rain.

with a shock like lightning, they awoke in their shelter once more

and there lay an eerie silence in the cold morning of the cycle as they performed the chore all who experience death have to do in the morning: determining if that was a real death, or a nightmare

they'd experienced death and they'd experienced nightmares, and that didn't feel like any nightmare but it couldn't have been real. they refused to believe it was real. it had to have been merely a strangely vivid nightmare

so when Survivor went to see moon, and moon despaired that they hadn't visited in over a year, when Survivor clearly recalled visiting last cycle, what more were they supposed to do but break down and sob?

#Rain world #rw survivor #horror #tw body horror #i wrote some shit. hooray!!!#rainworld #rain world downpour #rain world survivor #horror writing #rain world fic

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chevvy-yates · 1 year

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Why I'm so … away lately:

Spending my freet time with my Info PDFs on Vijay and Ryder.

This project is somewhat insane and ate already a lot of free time (doing all the casual outfit shots alone). I know I do not need to present it in this way, but as the graphic designer who I am, I enjoy doing this way too much! I just love to create layouts and in this way I also make use of my own VP pics as well in a secondary usage. It is something I cannot life out in my daily job. I've always wanted to create some sort of a guideline. And my ocs are just perfect for that. I wanna do Thyjs and Jaysen as well ofc but I won't start with them for a while. Ry and V need to be done first, then I 'll look into other priorities (e.g. roleplay story -> + turn it into fanfic, get more creative in VP, help some modders maybe) for a while and then I go back to getting this done for Thyjs and Jaysen as well. <3

So what about these documents?

of all they provide some huge help for me to have the best overview possible on their main mods and clothes I use for them. Once this is done, I can just open the PDFs and click onto the links that bring me to the mod page of a specific mod. I've been asked a few times what I used so this will help me find it within no time. Searching on nexus is sometimes a whole pain for me when you do not know the title of the mods. And I don't want to keep everything in "tracked mods" either except for the core mods such as CET, archive XL etc. needed for the game.

it hopefully does a good service to the lovely @gloryride who's going to turn both, Vijay and Ryder, into NPVs soon <3 I want her to have it as easy as I can make it (hopefully it works how I imagined it). So she's got everything neately sorted to look up in lists — especially for the outfits I want to include — even though I'm going to send over all the needed stuff. But if there's need to look it up you can just simply klick on the link that brings you to the nexus page that has the usual additional info, original mods (since my are renamed with prefixes) and who it belongs to.

it also will serve for everyone who wants to take pics of my boys in the future. Because I do love to share them and I wanna see how they look through other VPer's eyes! Therefore I added a short backstory, character dates and inspiration, likes and dislikes so you can imagine them better plus every up to this date outfit I've got for them so far. A bunch of outfits will be included to their NPVs but not all since both have already something between 15-20 outfits and some mods require permission for NPV (it takes ags for me to ask permission). I assume people love more to take pics with NPV rather than having to install all their mods (tho Ry's and V's are okayish; Thyjs on the contrary has like approx. 50 main mods alone lol) but I'll still provide both once I'm done. Dunno how often I'll update these docs since there will always be new outfits for them.

If you read all through to the bottom: please feel free to send me a dm or write me on discord if you think about wanting to VP my boys some day! <3 Once I'm done and NPVs are there I'm more than happy to share.

Once this massive main project of mine is done for the time being, I may reach out to some of you in the future asking if I can VP your ocs as well and I'm always happy to see my ocs making new friends too! I'm just very bad at doing all at once, so I never came around asking – I need to finish one thing first, before I can take on antoher or I'll get completely lost, :,D I've already got a list of stuff I have to/wanna do. So everything I've promised some time back will be still done at some point!

Thanks for reading <3

#thoughts #my life of being a graphic designer #giving up my free time for my pixel boys

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imogenleewriter · 10 months

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I would have waited for it to be over to rr the whole thing, write a rant simultaneously and then send but lmfao the ne chapter needs to be ranted about.

(I'm only 2 words in)

Not Louis being smarter than Harry lmao.

Yeah, Louis it's LITERALLY the only explanation my brothah stop lying

'symptoms' BAHAHAHAHA

Not Louis being SCIENCE and Harry being completely inexperienced on falling in LOVE LMFAO

Noooooo Louis knows what those feelings are cuz everytime he triggered then he also felt them himself 🥲🤏

✨Love ✨

Not harry's symptoms being his literal FEELINGS FFS

Nooooo Louis only has a theory. (I need Zayn to somehow find out about this debacle and repeat it at their wedding or to their children (whichever option Harry hates more and Louis is less wary of))

Yeah Louis you're definitely, DEFINITELY misinterpreting this YUP YEAH sounds about right

(side note:- idk how you even ever manage to put so much work into something you do for free and get so much stupid comments for but I will ALWAYS be SOOOO GRATEFUL 🥲 like these are the highlights of my shitty days I can't believe you do it for free TYSM TYSM THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗💗)

(also:- a massive, massive thank you to everyone who supports you and helps you because- just- just- LOOK how amazing these are I literally can't rn-)

Knowing for sure that Harry isn't sick, I do kind of understand why Louis is hesitant to assume Harry's just in love with him because imagine your crush is casually dying in your arms out of a heart attack or something and you are just like "dw, bestie, your heart is fully functional, you just have feelings ❤️"

Ok so rn I am at the place where Louis is thinking about how Harry can totally have feelings for him but still not want a relationship and just- *sigh* don't you just HATE it when a character who is clearly miscommunicating still make sense in their monologue based on what their arc and personality is? *sigh again*

It's so funny that the tables have COMPLETELY turned this time around now HARRY is an oblivious idiot but LOUIS KNOWS!!!!

(I love how subtle this shift is btw because I'm not really sure why but in my brain Louis' characterization seemed like he knows his problems and would just rather be in blissful denial about it, yk? But Harry always seemed like a person who would look at others worst emotions when directed at himself but forgive the other person and not himself)

Looking at Louis's inner monologue rn is so funny because he is just like "omg I cracked a case"

Help-this is getting too long for an ask but basically my point is that if I have been procrastinating this ask for ages and I am still stressing over the semantics in it then you being stressed over the complete masterpiece literature you create that I and so many other people are lucky enough to find then IS MORE THAN REASONABLE!!!!

So THANK YOU

I'll just read the rest by myself sorry 😐 I'll add it to the inevitable rant I'll send in your dms whenever I can complete it lmao my life is a fucking mess with me somehow ending up with fucking BOB CUT rn in this economy but I'll send it I PROMISE

Hahaha I love all the comments I get I promiseeeeeeeeee!

Well 99% of them. The other ones I whine about in a discord group to the point they made me my own sticker

Thanks @enchantedlandcoffee

No, but it's honestly a sticker in a group with like 80 people and I love thinking about what the people who don't know me (because the majority of the time I only go in there to complain) think when they open the group stickers and see that one.

ANYWAYYYYYYY

I appreciated all your commentary a lot! I love it when people understand the characters and why they do things even if they don't agree with what they do.

Sorry about the bob-cut, not that I have anything against bob cuts but it sounds like it was not what you wanted.

A few years ago I went to a salon and asked for my hair to be just above my shoulders. The hairdresser was clearly in the middle of something, like maybe a break-up because she was like... close to tears and kept using the phone and stuff.

Anyway my hair but was at the nape of my neck, like if it was any shorter she would have had to use a razor. Without me even complaining- because I just can't do it- the manager gave me a discount. Like I literally didn't say a word about it and she gave me a discount. That's how bad it was.

As soon as I walked out I burst into tears and cried non-stop for at least two days. I literally put on social media if anyone sees me not to talk about the haircut or I'll start crying. It was sooooo bad.

Anyway lol, thank you!!

#smfm #and me going on random tangents

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anemcia · 1 month

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10, 16, and 32

TRUTHTFUL... WEDNESDAY - [ACCEPTING]

10. What’s one grammatical rule you ignore the most?

Considering the number of times I've screwed up with grammar? I guess I generally don't mind as long as I can read and understand without going over 5 different times making this face ":V"

16. What’s your take on cancel culture/callout culture?

It's evolved from the traditional excommunication of the individual from community(ies) to straight-up doxxing in hopes of someone getting ballsy enough to go to their house / place of work. Maybe to verbally harass, maybe to game end them. I know things have always been like this, but this current generation is getting far more violent. A simple misstep, whether you are in wrong or not, is grounds for your life to be ruined. No amount of apologizing will get you out of the grave they're digging for you, and it's getting deeper than you expected. I'm not saying everyone getting called out is innocent, but yanno. I was there once. I can't imagine my 2016 callout post being modernized, holy shit. Please handle your beef privately, PLEASE, it's for everyone's safety at this point.

Not gonna lie, all of it is enough to make anyone feel uneasy just speaking with new groups of people. I know I've become much more apprehensive over the years, and I just don't open up like that anymore. Want to know the real me? Here's a hint: You probably wont like what you see. Might even hate my guts! Good! I've got my closest friends to bear my garbage soul to. The rest of ya? You're getting the surface-level me, and I'd prefer my general image to stay pleasant. If shit ever hit the fan? I'll always have them. It's my only comfort against the ever-growing darkness that is modern online discourse.

32. What’s the best way to approach you and why?

Just message me, here or discord, and tell me what you'd like to write. No beating around the bush, brass tacks. We cool if you're as casual about things as I am! Just remember to be patient with me, I've been so scatterbrained with my toddlers biting my ankles, I've been trying to crawl out of my cave for months, but I want to be motivated. Be motivated with me, if you're really into it then lets be into it together.

#《🌼》𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 [answered memes]#risingsouls #//OOHHH THANK YOU BBY!!!#//But seriously Gen Z is absolutely fuckin nuts #//can't even talk about fictional characters without someone crying and sobbing over a keyboard

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omgkalyppso · 3 months

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📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Thank you for the ask! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

I do like that post that's going around that says Do It Bored. Because creativity can feel illusive, but forward motion is forward motion. And wrt writer's block, having other projects to explore can only take you so far until you're overladen with WIPs in my experience. One of the better pieces of writer's block advice for me is that your problem is 10 lines ago, or w/e. I'm more accustomed to cutting out whole sections and paragraphs, and my god it hurts to write 300 words and instantly be like Wait No but it happens. Put the words in another notes document, you might need them again, and move on.

Work that I feel doesn't have to be to my own standards, and can just exist, is easier to finish. Because it doesn't need to be the most beautiful, poetic, insightful, or even the most grammatically correct piece of writing on the pile. Sometimes you just have to write a guy standing still, or lying on his back, in the case of my recent Shahid fic.

Trying to convince myself the same for my next bg3 wip I've gone back to. That it doesn't have to be to my own standards, it just has to be done so I can enjoy writing the next thing, which I want to do.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

#1 below the cut: Okay so the actual last thing in my notes app is that someone in a discord server asked what your oc's tinder profile would be, and this is as far as I got (some not oc's). Because this is so humiliating, I'm sharing more.

The second last thing is blocked dialogue that turned into the Shahid fic.

#2 below the cut: The third last is blocked dialogue that will either never see the light of day or need to be completely rewritten between Étoile and Halsin. I'll share Halsin's first line / maybe the only one worth keeping.

The fourth last is blocked dialogue that is becoming my swtor fic.

#3 below the cut: The fifth last is blocked dialogue that may or may not become a fic between my oc Determination and bg3's rolan.

Étoile: Looking for long term casual flings or partners. Faedolyn: Opinionated Av Claude: Lorenz: I am looking to fall in love. Must be willing to have a first date within 4 days of initial message to keep from wasting each other's time. 6'2 Hilda: Sylvain: Attention Deserves Healthy Distribution, and I will shower you in mine. Spontaneity. Seduction. Silliness? Let's share a drink and a laugh, and maybe something more.

Part of me feared that you would return to Astarion and either of you would decide I was … too much. Regardless of whether you would continue to have a more … open relationship. I am presently relieved that is not the case. Although I admit my anxieties yet linger. It is no thoughtless habit that I have chosen to call you my heart, Étoile.

Determination: I've come to say goodb— Rolan: Please stay. Determination: Rolan. Rolan: There have been several occasions where we were parted, where if it had been the last time, it would have been fine. We were strangers, or you thought I was an ass or I thought— Far less of you than I should have. Determination: Rolan— Rolan: Please. These past few weeks have meant the world to me. If you go back to Reithwin you will be taking my heart with you, I know it, and what good will I be here, with no passion to apply to magic, to life— Determination: You exaggerate— Rolan: Minna, please. I … I won't be able to rest, worrying you're unsafe. I won't be able to concentrate, imagining — Mystra preserve me — imagining another taking you to dinner, holding your hand, stroking your hair. Determination: I greatly enjoy your company Rolan, but for now, my passions lead me away. I can serve my God and her daughter. I can help a village in her name. I would not ask you go leave the Tower. Rolan: That's not fair. Determination: If the temple in Baldur's Gate has need of me, then I will return. Rolan: I— Determination: Don't. Rolan: I'm happy for you. Determination: I wish you meant that. Rolan: I am! I do. It's just that I've come to be so fond of you that I am losing myself. But I'll find the pieces. I will … be fine. Determination: You will. Rolan: Minna— Determination: Goodbye, Rolan.

#long post #ask to tag

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bells-of-black-sunday · 11 months

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B, C, J, N, P, T, U (i'm normal) - Tarhos

Spicy ABCs | Accepting

B ─ Breeding. Is this one of their kinks ? Do they often have unprotected sex ? Have they ever had any pregnancy scares ?

-GRABS YOU- ARE YOU NORMAL???

I know we've had a conversation about this on discord but: Yes, mostly in his main and monster verse, but yes. Not at all for "sex is only for procreation 🙏" part, but more for the possession aspect. He'll say stupidly cringey things to Haruko in main verse during the act unapologetically and he knows Haru's stupidly into it. Though just given how he doesn't have fully formed sex organs and Haru's cis, they've never had pregnancy scares thank god.

But they do often have unprotected sex, knowing Haru probably the only times they've used condoms is when they were first dating if even that. I know werewolf Tarhos worships him like he's the moon herself and I doubt Haru being the way he is is really going to pass up the opportunity to see him incredibly needy when he's in rut.

C ─ Condoms. Do they use them ? Do they have a preference ( color, flavour, etc… ) ? Have they ever had an accident ? Would they continue anyway, if they’ve forgotten/run out of them ?

They don't use them and bold of you to even ask if Tarhos has a preference for colors or flavors. Maybe Haru would buy a bunch of flavored condoms for fun and they'd taste them who knows. Though before Haru he absolutely did, he'd never have sex without one and while he's never had an accident with a partner, he'd absolutely force the other person to stop and get a new one just for his own health.

J ─ Jewellery. Do they own any sexy jewellery ( like butt plugs with rhinestones, piercings in intimate areas, cock rings, collars, etc… ) ? What do they think about it ?

No though, I could imagine Haru buying him cock rings or plugs just to see him roll his eyes and huff. He also wouldn't be opposed to collars with him in modern as long as he didn't compare him to an animal or anything like that. Werewolf Tarhos has tattoos if that counts though.

N ─ Nudes. Do they send them to each other ? Do they save them on their phones ? Do they keep them to themselves, or do they show them to their friends ? Have they ever sent one to a wrong number ?

They absolutely send nudes to each other and I'm sure Haru at least saves them. I don't think either of them are the type to go around showing them off, but definitely something to at least idly look at on a slow day. I feel like Haru's absolutely sent Nudes by accident to Aita before and Aita was jus "Mmmm? The lightings a little wonky and you should let your hair down, 8/10" and Tarhos has probably accidentally sent at least one to Robin or the boys™.

P ─ Public. Have they ever done it in public ? Were they caught ? Do they have a favourite public place to do it ?

Main verse yeah absolutely. This was the time area where most sleeping spaces were shared and he really isn't about to be shy about bending Alejandro over an empty barrel on the outskirts of camp. Sex happens, it's something very casual to him. He's been caught before, but it's nothing that big of a deal. Modern the most public place he's ever had sex was probably a bar bathroom or his truck, he's just not going to go out of his way to have sex in public even if he doesn't particularly mind it.

T ─ Turn ons & offs. What do they do to turn each other on ? Is there something the other does that turns them off ? Have they told them about it ?

Haru really just has to tell him how pretty he is and kiss his neck and he's melting in his hands. He's so soft for him and blunt at the same time. He loves when he pulls his hair or edges him, he's at his happiest when Haru's making him feel like he's his entire world. Turn offs are things he's very open about, he doesn't like being referred to with animal pet names as much as I know Haru would probably love putting a collar on him and calling him his sweet little puppy.

U ─ Unusual. What’s the most unusual place they’ve had sex at/in ? Was it a good experience ? Would they repeat it ? Is there an unusual place they’d like to try ?

With how often they go to the stables or Haru's cabin, they'd definitely at the very least given the other head while on a hiking trail and I'm sure they enjoyed it despite the muddy/dirty knees. I don't think there's anything too unusual that Tarhos would like to try.

#ooc #a path of destruction (knight)#/about the muse #lemon

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rametarin · 2 years

Text

Weird pattern I noticed.

Alright this may not scan with you lot, and Your Milage May Vary (tm), but I’ve noticed a pattern.

Among many whom would classify themselves as more singing the praises of socialism, and I mean outwardly, like, actually casually slipping conversations about “praxis” and “late stage capitalism” into any fucking conversation you can have over skype or discord, most of these people have a terrible habit of “just” having experienced a heroic moment.

There’s always that one guy, or girl, whom regales about how they just talked to someone that was so racist, you gais. Like, I deliberately go looking for sketchy motheruckers to passively absorb what they’re about and what they ramble about when their guard is down, or what they doin’. I’m terminally connected and sometimes just go submarining just to see what passes my passive sonar and swim along in schools just to see what they doin’. Probably a bad habit, but you can meet some interesting people doing that.

But for some reason these red and black flag flying motherfuckers all just so happen to cross streams with random neckbeards that are so totally ethnostate obsessed, viking idolizing NEETs. Absolutely amazing how they always seem to know, “a guy like that,” and feel the need to tell you about them.

Or they slam their door and sit down at their computers and talk about how they “just got done ARGUING with a RACIST... god!” and go on to talk about how everybody around them just seems so anti-black people/asian people/you-name-it. Just, “starting a conversation,” I guess.

Now, yes, ethnostate idolizing wanna-be viking NEETs are awful, no doubt. But you know what is more obnoxious than an impotent loser that supposedly masturbates to fascism in their PC games, fulfilling this niche of being the one pest you see therefore providing fuel to the paranoia there may be hundreds that you can’t?

Motherfuckers lying about exactly how many of them are floating around in the world and on the internet. Specifically to sow seeds to justify seeing every milquetoast assed Minions memer as a potential Dixie pride flying white supremacist apologist or open Nazi. And I see this shit too often for it to be a coincidence.

Can I prove it? No. Take it as a grain of salt, but now that you’ve been alerted to this pattern, you can look for it. Look out for the avowed supposed “anti-racist” or socialist sympathizing type person that always seems to just know a guy and tolerate them to be in their social sphere and tell you about them, despite avowedly claiming to despise and oppose the vile shit they supposedly stand for. If they actually exist.

The strategic value of exaggerating the numbers of an ideological opponent and to stress the inherent extremism and volatility of their beliefs is that the risk of one in the pool being a radical extremist capable of doing something terrible, or like a pack of dogs, egging each other on to more base extremes as normalizing them, is that it creates a fearful imagination of The Other becoming a numeric, unstoppable source of chaos and violence. By telling stories about just how prolific these supposed white supremacist Nazi sympathizers are at the water cooler, they are cold bloodedly trying to create concern in the imagination of an imminent growing danger where you can either bulwark against it, or be overrun by it. And it’s not at all different from the same methods that Imperial Germany and then Nazi Germany, and also the Bolsheviks and Russian Socialists used across whatever population they were in.

Obviously for the Germans, they would just casually throw out some random Jewish person or organization and illuminate how they were supposedly, “just plotting and cheating, you know, like the Jews do.” Because of course didn’t you know? Your average person of Hebrew persuasion is just an ethnosupremacist handwringing disreputable merchant, you know! Checks out with the press you’ve heard from the other guy with the skinned head and the, ‘workers of the world unite!’ T-shirt.

And the Russian sympathetic Marxists, when you could catch them being more openly anti-semitic.

And really any sort of socialist before they decided a grand plan of attack was to become the conversation about bigotry and intolerance and corral minorities on their side by default by claiming the Other was inherently bigotry while they were acceptance.

So these very intolerable Marxiboys (and girls, and other) can just so happen to find the dude with Minions merchandise, flying confederate flags and foolishly hooting, “Jewz and blaks baaaaaaad!” in the most boorish and unimaginitive ways an idiot can be an idiot, always just a degree out of your social sphere, always just out of reach or liberty to show them. The same people that loudly chant, “punch a Nazi!” just so happen to be on peacable enough terms to watch these mouthbreahting motherfuckers and pick up on stupid conversations they have. Enough to always have fresh material to rant about their experiences with their idiocy on the internet.

Yeah I believe that. Or, it follows the other pattern I noticed;

As a kid, I noticed there were a lot of radfem girls that had similar stories like this, but about sexism. If not immediate topical events, then motivations for past events. And sometimes the stories were just shitty gossip that relied utterly on respecting your relationship to the girl in order to believe them, and if you didn’t, you knew social distance was going to increase. You were presented with an ultimatum, whether you liked it or not; Believe their wild story on good faith, or scrutinize it and then have them get emotional and aikido flip your relationship, and walk away, deciding not to associate with you quite so often or warmly. All contingent on how well you’d take their dirt story on good faith.

Well this happens enough and eventually a girl like that exerts their story too far, or they say something someone knows isn’t true but is pretending that they don’t know so the conversation is ambiguous on whether their mud slinging could be true or false or not. They’ll be caught. They’ll be too close and attached for the lie to be anything but a lie, and an insult to their friendship, and an insult to the person they’re trying to propagandize’s intelligence. They’ll be too close to anonymously, “friendily” talk shit around the water cooler, and they’ll HAVE to answer why they lied about this other person, party, event or movement.

And when that would happen, the radfem of yore would break down to the, “Well... I just wanted to have a convuhsayshun about [topic]...” defense.

That’s an implicit admission that they lied. They lied, exaggerated and doctored the truth, fabricated something from events that happen everyday somewhere, so even their fictional story can have SOME basis in truth, and they, “at least got the conversation started.”

I can think of fewer more bloodless and disgusting things than fabricating events like that SPECIFICALLY for this hollow supposed altruism of “social change,” but it taught me how much you can trust a conversation with the sort of person that flies a hammer and sickle, rose, or black and red flag. And I still don’t know if this was some sort of literature culture thing, or if this sort of behavior just appeals to the sort of personality that just spontaneously determines behaving like this for these ends is an acceptable means to an end. Is this something recommended in Rules for Radicals? Is there some psyche book or social science paper that suggests this sort of thing is a viable and acceptable method for, “positive social change?” Because it’s the kind of behavior you expect from a sociopath. I don’t care your “good intentions” or “greater good.”

So whenever I’m chillin’ in a new friend group and there’s that one person that diverts every conversation into shit talking capitalism specifically (geeeee, how subtle) or passionately starts regaling their experiences dealing with a random dude walking around in a picklehaub and making Roman salutes and goose stepping around, I listen, but history and experience have shown me the proportion of these as fish stories being told to raise mass hysteria among young people vs. legitimately talking about Kyle Schmoe from down the block being a statistically anomalous moron, are not good.

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amwebsites918 · 2 years

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

Text

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

—————

A few days had passed since Marinette had burned the Adrien photos, and Luka was relieved to note that they hadn't come back since. Marinette seemed equally at ease, their daily calls becoming more and more relaxed with each time she told him about her still-empty wall. He did wish he could do a little more concerning the red string around her neck, but his mind was drawing a blank and she was happier than before regardless.

The main problem however, was the relation to the miraculouses. Everyone knew that Ladybug wasn't interested in Chat Noir, a fact that made the knowledge of the red string even worse. He wasn't sure if the red strings were tied to the miraculouses or not - or how if they were indeed connected - but he speculated that it was about more than just talking to Marinette about Adrien; Chat was a factor as well. He couldn’t imagine the societal pressure of Ladybug and Chat Noir being a couple, and no one had to do much research to realize that Chat Noir was okay with it while Ladybug was very much not.

He'd have to take on the red string from both sides of the masks, and it took one particular day for him to get his chance.

"You want me to go on patrol with you?"

Ladybug nodded, balancing herself on his windowsill as she replied, "If you'd like to. Chat Noir is busy tonight, so the position's opened and you're one of the people used to having a miraculous."

Luka caught himself before he could start smiling too much, knowing that it was Marinette under that mask and she wanted him to go on patrol because they were friends.

"I'd be honored to."

She beamed at him, and after the snake miraculous was on his wrist, he was transformed and the two set off for the rooftops together.

—————

Viperion glanced left and right as he went along with Ladybug. He'd been called enough by then to have gotten used to superheroing, though it was his first time actually on patrol. Given the situation they were in, he was thankful that Adrien was busy that particular night with what Viperion could only guess was Gabriel's orders.

The red string was still dangling around Ladybug's neck, though Viperion'd grown attuned enough with his fate sensing that he could stop focusing on it and simply see her if he chose to. It didn't stop him from thinking about it, but it helped.

Ladybug seemed to know the route to take, so he mostly followed after her, but it was partway through where she'd decided that they should take a break. Paris was always quiet right after akuma attacks, meaning that they could afford to take it easy since there'd been one just that afternoon.

They leaped buildings until they reached the Eiffel Tower, scaling the monument until they reached the top platform. He didn't miss that she'd avoided using her yoyo for the job, possibly to put them on an even playing field.

Letting out a breath, Ladybug leaned against the railing and she gazed over the city. Gesturing to the view, she explained, "We'll have a good vantage point from here in case anything happens."

Viperion chuckled. "You really do think of everything."

She blushed faintly, but took the compliment casually. "I'm just doing my job." She turned her hip to more easily grab her yoyo, then opened it and reached inside. "Anyway, are you hungry?"

He tilted his head in curiosity, then grinned as she pulled out a bag of macarons from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. It wasn't anything suspicious given that it was known as the best bakery around.

"Thanks," he replied gratefully, taking one of the macarons she offered him.

She grabbed one as well and they took a simultaneous bite of their respective treats. He was a little surprised to hear that she brought along snacks, but supposed it made sense if breaks during patrol were a common thing after akuma.

They settled down on the ground, Ladybug placing the open bag in-between them so they could pick them out at equal leisure. Tossing him an apologetic but teasing smile, she added, "Sorry, but cushions wouldn't fit in the yoyo."

He raised his brows at her, then glanced down at the hard ground below them. He snorted at her joke, noting, "It's nice to see you outside of akuma battles, where you can relax and play around more."

She smiled shyly at him, in a way that was so Marinette that he couldn't believe he hadn't figured her out sooner. "Thanks. Chat says I have no sense of humor."

He frowned, replying without hesitation, "Chat's wrong."

She waved him off, though he could tell that she appreciated the comment. Hearing that Chat had told her something like that was news to him, despite all the research he'd done into their relationship. Granted, he imagined that anything could be said off-camera and he couldn't have known.

"Does he say things like that a lot?" he asked, hoping he wasn't prodding too much. There was just something about how casually she'd said it that unnerved him.

"Huh?" She blinked, thrown off by the question, then rubbed the back of her neck. "Well... most of the time, he flirts instead. It's..." She hesitated, like she wasn't sure that she could talk about it. Glancing at him, then back to the open sky, she relented and added, "—it's a lot sometimes, but he does his job well enough, so it’s not like it’s a serious problem. I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve never wondered about the what ifs of having someone else, but whenever I think about it, I just—"

She squinted at nothing, Viperion's gaze flickering down to the string, which had became visible now that he was focusing on it.

It had tightened, pressing into the black of her bodysuit in a way only he could see, and he found himself squinting just like she was.

"—I can't imagine being Ladybug without him," she said.

He pressed his lips together, trying to suppress any reaction to the comment. He'd suspected it for a while, but actually seeing it was something else entirely.

The red string demanded dependency on Ladybug's part. He wasn't sure how much it pulled Chat on the other end, but judging from what he'd gathered from Marinette's luck and fate's blatant favoring of Adrien, he could guess.

Ladybug peeked up from her macaron when he remained silent, confusion passing over her features. "What? You look like you have something to say."

"Ah—" He looked down, brows furrowing as he hoped even more that he wasn't pushing boundaries. "—just... I know that he's been with you since the beginning, but I don’t think you need Chat Noir to be an amazing Ladybug."

She straightened, dropping her treat in surprise and then fumbling to catch it. Perhaps she hadn’t caught onto what her words implied, or had said them without thinking due to the string and was now facing it head-on.

He continued, "You've dealt with akuma plenty of times without him, and you work well with all your heroes. I'm sure you could make the best out of any partner you had." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Maybe Chat Noir only seems as good as he does because he's at your command."

Ladybug's cheeks tinted red, nearly matching her mask, as she ducked her head at the high praise. She raised the macaron back to her lips, chewing on it as if that helped hide her face.

It was only after she'd slowly nibbled the treat all the way down and swallowed that she replied, "T-thank you."

He shrugged, having only been honest.

"Chat Noir..." She cleared her throat. "Well, Paris would disagree with you."

"Paris is wrong too," he replied in the exact same tone as when he was discussing Chat. After careful consideration, he asked cautiously, "Do you mean how—"

"Yeah, the—" She frowned and waved both hands vaguely in a gesture that no one but him would've understood. "Yeah."

So she was all too aware of their status of a "couple" in the eyes of Parisians. It made sense with everything he already knew, but he hadn't wanted to be right.

The phrase she'd used when talking about Adrien resurfaced in his mind: made for each other.

He clenched his fist. She was being pressured on both sides of the mask, towards both sides of Adrien's mask.

"I don't like it," she admitted, "but Chat drinks it up and I guess the public is into the idea of this superhero couple. They see us like celebrities."

"It's not right," Viperion hissed, and Sass would've been proud of it. "You save Paris every week and you deserve to be respected."

"There's nothing I can do about it," she told him, almost in defeat. "Besides, Chat... he needs a pick-me-up every now and my pep talks don't always work on him. He pouted when I brought in a male hero for the first time."

"That's not your fault!" he argued. "Chat needs to be confident on his own. He can't keep relying on you or make you feel like you can't do anything without him doubting himself. You're under enough stress as it is, and—!"

He caught himself, his mouth shutting tight before he could reveal exactly how much he knew. Ladybug blinked at him, seeming puzzled by the outburst but not suspicious at least.

He took a breath, reminding himself to stay calm. Reaching back, he grabbed hold of his lyre and brought it in front of him, strumming a few notes and letting them settle the discordant song that was playing in his stomach.

"My point is... Chat shouldn't be someone adding onto the pressure. That's not a partnership."

Her shoulders relaxed, her eyes darting around as she processed his words. She looked conflicted.

"...I'm sorry," he added, settling his lyre in his lap. "Not for what I said, but—I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

"No, no." She shook her head, pulling her knees to her chest. "It's good that you did. I've actually—" Her voice grew quiet. "—been thinking about it lately."

"About what?"

She made the same vague gesture from before. "All of that. There's been a lot going on and it's given me a lot to think about."

He knew immediately what she meant.

"It's... frustrating," she groaned. "I don't like Chat that way. I mean, maybe sometimes he said or did something that I found charming, but that's just—not enough for me, you know? To only feel something like that for a second or two." She averted her gaze, growing distant. "Everyone seems to think we belong together, and... I hate that they might be right."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Well, I'm a hero; a permanent one. I need to be there all the time. Every akuma, every purification, every Miraculous Ladybug. Only I can do it." She hugged her legs closer, burying her face in her knees. "I want a relationship. I want someone to date and be close to, but I can't have it. I'm always running away; always going somewhere with some excuse so I can go deal with the akuma, and I can't tell anyone! Can you imagine how that'd make my date feel?"

He opened his mouth, but a thought occurred to him at the last second that gave him pause.

"You... so you think..."

Once again, he hoped to be wrong. He wanted so badly to be wrong.

But Ladybug looked up, her expression pained as she confirmed, "There's only one person I could be with where it wouldn't have to happen."

His blood ran cold, he felt sick, and the memory of the red string flashed in his mind, wrapped around Adrien's ring.

Fate didn't just tie her to him; it wanted to make her believe that he was her only choice.

Viperion's grip on his lyre tightened, his teeth grinding together behind closed lips as he tried to maintain an aura of calm. He wasn't just angry anymore, he was livid, and he silently wished that the face on the other side of the butterfly miraculous was the universe so he could give it a piece of his mind.

How could you do that? How could you take a girl who's always worked so hard and tried her best, and treat her like she's nothing? No, not nothing, because then at least she'd be left alone. How could you treat her like a plaything, as if she's some prize for a guy to win no matter what? How could you manipulate her to think that everything's her fault, just so she never thinks to fight back against the ones putting pressure on her?

What's love if it's gotten through such force?

"V-viperion?"

A hand falling upon his jolted him back to reality, his head snapping up to see Ladybug there, her pupils shrunken in and her brows knitted in worry. Whatever his face had looked like, it'd scared her.

His first instinct was to feel guilty. He was supposed to be comforting her, not making things worse by letting all of his emotions show on his face.

His second instinct...

He tossed his lyre off to the side, Ladybug's gaze briefly following it until his hands fell upon her shoulders. Her eyes widened, and she let out a squeak as he pulled her onto his lap and into a hug.

The only thing he was grateful for in terms of her superhero status was that he could hug her as tightly as possible without hurting her.

"A-ah..." She seemed tempted to say something, but fell silent soon after and hugged him back, burying her face into the side of his neck. He felt her strength in the way she squeezed him, like she was starved for his affection despite them being in a similar position not too long ago.

He understood. Before, they were tackling her problems when she was Marinette, but Ladybug had never had someone to personally confide in concerning Chat.

She'd needed this.

"You already do so much," he whispered. "You should be allowed to be with whoever you want, and you shouldn't have to settle when it comes to love."

She sighed against him, like she knew deep down that he was right. "You don't know how bad it could get. Some hypothetical boyfriend wouldn't deserve that kind of treatment."

"I get why you'd feel that way," he said, "but I'd hope that this hypothetical boyfriend would know that you're worth it."

Her fingers twitched against his spine. "...You don't even know me."

"I know that you're creative. I know you're smart. I know you work harder than anyone else to keep Paris safe. I know you have a right to feel however you want, and if you think you need to earn being with someone who's not Chat, then you've more than done that." He slid his hand up to squeeze her shoulder. "I also know that you'll find a way to make it work, if you put in even half the care into it as you put into Paris."

"Vi—" She paused, her voice softening. "Luka..."

They stayed like that for a while, the bag of macarons going untouched an arm's reach away. Viperion just held her, sensing that she was feeling out what he'd said and that they didn't need words for it. That was fine with him; her love life was none of his business. He only wanted to help her have the choice to live it.

A breeze blew by, their bodysuits protecting them from the wind chill factor as their hair was lightly shifted by the gentle air. Ladybug stirred, letting out a noise like she felt personally slighted by the wind, then pushed herself up, her hands on his shoulders as she pulled away from him.

"We...we should get back to patrol," she admitted.

He offered her a small smile, noting that she seemed to be in better spirits at least. "Alright." He let her out of his lap, leaning over to the side to pick up his lyre.

He heard her retreating footsteps, along with a light, "You can keep the macarons."

He glanced up at her, surprised. "Are you sure?" he asked, knowing that he was mostly responsible for them not eating all of them. "Is that what you usually do on your breaks: let Chat have them?"

"Oh." She stood awkwardly in place, looking off at the sky before dropping her gaze to the ground. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she grinned sheepishly and replied, "Actually..."

He tilted his head, curious.

She peeked over at him, eyes half-lidded as she told him, "I've never done this with Chat."

He raised his brows, as if that would make her clarify, but she simply turned away from him and started doing a few stretches, clearly prepping to head back out.

Pursing his lips in thought, Viperion turned his back to her, giving attention to the little plastic bag resting neatly on the ground. Even though it was open, the little ribbon that had held it shut was still around it, suddenly feeling more special now that Ladybug had said something so... cryptic.

He looked out at the view they had, then Ladybug, then back at the bag, feeling extremely slow on the uptake as his brain pieced things together based on what information he had.

Then, suddenly his brain supplied: Wait... was this a date?

He buried the thought just as quickly, shaking his head and scolding himself for jumping to that so fast.

"Are you ready to go back to leaping rooftops?" Ladybug asked behind him, her tone light even if she was still in her own head.

"Yeah," Viperion replied, picking up the little bag like it was something precious. Hoping to lighten things further, he then added, "I'm new to this, so I might lag behind."

She chuckled. "You might. Apparently I'm a really amazing hero according to someone I know."

He grinned to himself. Even if she was just teasing, it felt good to hear her compliment herself in a way.

He had just tightened the ribbon to seal the bag back up, listening to the sound of Ladybug's foosteps, when he felt a sudden niggling sensation at the back of his head, or—behind him? He turned, puzzled, then leaped up as he caught sight of a teal wisp in Ladybug's path.

He rushed over as she yelped and tripped over what would seem like nothing according to her. Catching her just in time, he also realized belatedly that it may've been an overreaction, given that she was in superhero form; he could only blame it on reflex.

Ladybug stood up with a start, covering the lower half of her face in shame. "Ugh, that was so embarrassing, I'm sor—"

"It's not your fault," he hurried to say, not explaining further as he grew lost in thought, staring silently at the place where the wisp had formed itself.

He hadn't just seen the wisps this time; he had sensed them. That was new, and he wouldn't have questioned a new addition to his fate sensing had it not been the fact that he hadn't particularly done anything as Viperion; it usually took an instance or two of him using his power for something to manifest, but here...

He glanced up when he realized that Ladybug was looking at him curiously. Debating with himself for a moment, he ultimately trusted his gut and met her gaze, asking,

"Do you mind if I talk to Sass again after this?"

#au: Dread String of Fate #Dread String of Fate: writing #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #type: salt #((Just in case.))

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ayamturd · 3 years

Text

bisexual│mcyt hc

warnings: small mentions of hate, fluff

prompt: (requested 1 & 2) “Hello uh I saw one of your posts about the dream smp reacting to you coming out so I was wondering if you haven't already done it can you do dream smp reacting to you coming out as bisexual?”

“Hello yamturd so I was wondering if maybe you could do tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo reacting to reader coming out as bisexual or lesbian if you haven't already done it :)”

pairings: irl platonic! dream, ranboo, tommy and tubbo ; c!technoblade

a/n: if i offend or misinterpret anything in this hc, please feel free to message and correct me otherwise. i will always try to correct or delete this post if asked so <33

sending my love to all those who identify as bisexual <33

wc: (1.5k) - m.list

dream -

considering his prideful personality sometimes, you probably wanted to play with his ego and drop subtle hints

not anything too obvious, but enough to make him kick himself when he realizes

though it was admittedly difficult since he plays into the dnf ship so much that he thinks you’re also joking more than half the time

imagine you two were in a voice call one evening and randomly discussing the recent fanon and what would be funny to turn into canon (to mess with the fandom)

you’ve been recently shipped with two other content creators, both of opposing female and male gender, separately and together

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.” “Which one?” “Both.”

He’d laugh, but you didn’t.

“Wait, you’re serious? You actually identify as…?” “Bisexual. Yeah, I’m pretty sure anyway.” “Y/n, that’s amazing.”

takes pride in the fact that you trust him, but would feign being upset that you messed with him for as long as you did

be jokingly offended if he found out someone knew before him

“Wait…” “Yes?” “You told Bad??” “Yeah, he was one of the first.” “W— Why??”

It was your turn to laugh while he gawked in disbelief.

“It’s Bad! Of course I told him.” “… Fair enough.”

hate is a given, and he’ll always be there to support and defend you

he’ll always ask your permission before taking any action, however, because he respects you too much and knows you can fight your own battles

dream is someone will show relentless support, whether that be through words or moral support, he’ll always be there for you

c!technoblade -

i honestly feel like you never officially came out to techno

as you began to recognize yourself as bisexual, you slowly expressed yourself around him more openly to the point where he unconsciously knew

it’d probably would have hit him in the most random moment after months of assuming he knew

imagine you’re in the midst of battle when techno paused entirely with wide eyes

“Y/n!” “What!?” “Are you gay??”

you would tease him when discussing your love life in one-sided conversations with him; him basically choosing to ignore you when you talk to him

“Honestly, Techno, how could you not want to hit that?” “Please, just stop.”

(i’ve written this before but will stand by this that) he truly doesn’t care for your sexuality

you’re a friend, someone he trusts and relies on, he doesn’t need to consider who you’re attracted to since he sees you for your skills and friendship

the only, and only time he is mindful of your sexuality depends on others unnecessary comments about it

the smp is a known judgement free land, but there will always be someone with ignorant opinions that he is always quick to shut down (or kill)

nothing much can be said besides the fact that you’ll always be y/n to him: a loyal friend and someone he would fight the world for

ranboo -

oh sweet ranboo, dear ranboo

considering how openly supportive and kind he naturally is, you didn’t question the idea of telling him

i’d like to imagine that unlike most where you planned or waited to tell, the moment you knew, he would know soon after

imagine you called him before he began his lore stream to hype him up

you both were talking about more mundane things to calm his nerves as people joined when you brought it up

“Oh actually, before you start, I wanted to tell you something.” “Sure, what is it?” “Well, I— I’m Bisexual.” “…You’re tELLING ME THIS WHEN I’M ABOUT TO START MY STREAM??” “Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing!”

he’s incredibly patient concerning how you wanted others to know or when you were ready to be completely out

similar to c!techno with the same beliefs you’re still y/n, and nothing has changed besides you coming out as yourself

he’s your go to when days are rough, because he knows how to help you understand you’re still loved as the same y/n and nothing less

“Hey, hey, listen to me. I love you, y/n. We all do, and you’ll never be alone when things get rough, alright?” (love /p)

knows how to silently deal with hate in his chat unless it becomes evident enough to address it (doesn’t want to bring attention to meaningless words until it becomes serious)

ranboo’s your rock and makes show that he’ll never believe anything other than that you deserve love

tommyinnit -

as someone who took pride in defending the LGBTQ+ community, you had no hesitation when coming out to tommy

if any, your reluctance would come from accepting yourself to the point to be open with other people

it’s not as if he didn’t accept you, he could never imagine doing so in the slightest, but he probably wouldn’t know what to say initially

imagine you both were in the midst of playing bedwars together in a recording for a video

he had been busy gathering emeralds while you remained at the base, and the comforting silence gave you the confidence to blindly address it

“Hey Tommy?” “What, y/n? I’m in the middle of something right now.” “Oh, um, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.” “…” “…Tommy?” “…” “T— Tommy?”

it’d be dead quiet for a few seconds before you heard the noise of him rustling in realization

“Wait wait wait, you’re serious? You’re bisexual?” “Haha yeah, yeah, I am.” “WHA—!”

he was happy for you, to say the least

tommy loves to joke, and one he loved to make would be your attraction to both genders

you like women? pog!

you like men? a shame, honestly

if you were publicly out, his favorite bit would be to include you in his obnoxious swooning

imagine he was streaming while talking about his love for women

“Boys, honestly, the ladies just can’t resist me.”

The ding of discord notified you entering the call, the sound of your laughter immediately coming through.

“I agree, Tommy, I definitely agree.” “Y/n! You are attracted to women, and I am also attracted to women. You can agree women are amazing, yes?” “I can, Tommy. Women are indeed amazing.” “Good lad!” “Tommy, you do realize I’m not only attracted to w—” “Shush, we don’t speak of that.”

he showed his support by normalizing your sexuality, his acceptance quick and easily integrated into your lives

(this is getting long but—) tommy was well aware he lacked some knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community, but openly voiced his ignorance as a sign of awareness itself

he was always quick to correct either himself or others, he refused to accept slander of any type in his streams

would probably try to keep it light heartedly, but scold nonetheless

tommy was your figurative cheerleader, always there to include and uplift you, whether that be through the smallest gestures or loudest cheers

tubbo -

poor tubbo

since he wasn’t the most careful with secrets, you probably withheld telling him till you were ready for most to know

this isn’t to deter anything of not trusting him, he’s still supportive and loving tubbo that wouldn’t dare do anything purposeful against you

if anything, you might have forgotten that he didn’t know when you were casually taking about it within a group

imagine you and Ranboo were trying to get him to sleep one early morning but gave up

you started talking about personal stuff and the topic of your love life came up, specifically the attraction to someone of the same gender

“I don’t know, Ranboo, I mean, I think I like them but at the same time I’m not sure.” “That’s fai—” “Wait, y/n. You’re gay??” “Bisexual, actually.” “WaAA—”

his very sleep deprived state was extremely happy and emotional for you

he’s like the little duckling with a knife, like he loves you completely but will try to hurt anyone that offends you

like tommy, he has no personal knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community but will solely learn for your sake

whether you’re younger or not, tubbo never fails to remind you that he looks up to you

he gives his all and won’t hesitate to provide in any way he can if needed

“You matter,” he’ll always say, “you’re important and no one else’s opinion matter.”

is proud to be your friend and expresses his platonic love in full, for you’re you and are so brave to be yourself despite all

choosing not to tag my usual taglist just cause its a headcanon with a specific request <33 (huge ty to @basilly and @inniterhq though for the advice/motivation to finish this)

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Text

philocaly (kaeya x reader)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ ironically this came to me in a dream last night lol. it’s also 4 in the morning so please excuse anything that makes no sense <3

★ summary: you have the worst nightmare of your life but thankfully kaeya is there to calm you down

★ content warning: there’s a very quick, very vague sex scene that isn’t detailed at all but just so everyone knows. major angst but also major comfort so do with that what you will. also reader was written as female but its pretty vague so feel free to imagine them as whoever you want

philocaly

(n) the love of beauty

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was the intoxicating smell of gasoline that surrounded you. Your body felt sticky and wet and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were drenched in petroleum. You felt dazed and when you tried to look around, your eyesight blurred and you stared into a cloudy abyss.

A voice began speaking and you jolted up, trying to find the source only to find absolutely nothing. You didn’t even know if you were sitting in a chair.

“So naive…”

Your breath caught in your throat when you recognized the voice as Kaeya’s. But your mouth wasn’t moving. You thrashed around but it was like your arms were being held down by invisible bonds.

“Don’t panic, pretty,” Kaeya said. His voice echoed around the room and finally the clouds started to dissipate. Your beloved boyfriend stood feet away from you, wearing a brilliant white tuxedo. “We’re just going to talk. For now.”

Out of thin air, Kaeya pulled a chair in front of you. He sat down in it backwards, leaning his head on his arms. He had his signature smile on his face but his eyes were dull and emotionless. Suddenly your feet hit something hard and you glanced down, seeing a polished wooden floor beneath your shoes.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Kaeya purred, looking at you in a way that made you shiver, “Do you really think you amount to anything in this world?”

His words stunned you. What was going on? You gaped your mouth to speak but no words came out. You didn’t know what to say.

“It would solve a lot of problems if we just got rid of you right now, don’t you think? I would finally be free to find someone worth my time and the rest of Mondstadt would be happy to have such a burden lifted.”

You felt like your throat was on fire. You couldn’t believe Kaeya was saying these things to you but he really was. Tears streamed down your face and you sharply inhaled, your chest aching in pain. You prayed that this was some sick joke.

The gasoline that was poured on your head before started to run down your face, sliding between your eyes and burning your nostrils when you breathed.

“You’re crying now? How pathetic,” Kaeya laughed. He shoved his hand into the pocket of the tuxedo jacket and pulled out a pack of matches. Your eyes widened and you felt yourself stop breathing momentarily. He hummed casually and stood up from the chair, “I can’t wait to find someone so much better.”

You tried to scream, defend yourself, but no sounds came out. It was like your voice box had been ripped away. Your eyesight was blurry again from your tears but you couldn’t even wipe them away. A gloved hand reached out and gripped your jaw, pulling your face upwards. Kaeya was in front of you now, his eyes even more sadistic than before. He cocked his head at you and rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip.

“You always had such an ugly face.”

And with that, Kaeya ripped his hand away and lit a match. He threw it at you carelessly and turned on his heel. As soon as the tiny flame touched the gasoline, it was like an explosion. The flames crawled up your legs and surrounded your body. You had never felt this kind of pain before and it was unbearable. Once again, you tried to scream but only silent heaves escaped your throat. The last thing you saw was Kaeya’s long ponytail being thrown over his shoulder before the flames consumed you.

You shot up in bed, your hands clutching your nightgown like never before. You heaved and erratically inhaled, trying to catch your breath. While you couldn’t feel the flames anymore, in that moment they felt so real. Never before had you had such a horrendous nightmare and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Kaeya’s words rang through your head over and over again. You couldn’t stop the tears falling from your eyes, only this time you could reach up and wipe them away. Hands crawled up your shoulders and Kaeya, the real one, rubbed them slowly.

“You’re drenched in sweat, Princess,” He mumbled, “What happened?”

Your blood grew cold as your dream replayed. You choked back a sob and managed to twist your body so you were facing Kaeya. “I’m okay,” You lied, your voice hoarse and quiet, “I’m just a little shaken up.” Kaeya raised an eyebrow at you. He had seen you shaken up before and it was never this extreme. He opened his mouth to speak but you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. “I want to do it. Right now.”

“What?” Kaeya mumbled between desperate, rough kisses. Normally he wouldn’t be opposed to a spontaneous midnight session but you were clearly in distress.

“Please,” Your voice cracked. You needed to be intimate with Kaeya right now, you needed to feel his body flush against yours. You needed to know that he still wanted you.

Kaeya only nodded and let you push him back onto the bed. You inhaled sharply again and rubbed your cheeks. You slung a leg over Kaeya and wasted no time in kissing down his neck. You placed wet kisses on his skin and Kaeya’s hands grazed your hips. If this was going to make you feel better right now, then he would do anything you wanted.

You inched backwards so your crotch was over Kaeya’s and you pulled down his pants quickly. He was still soft but you didn’t care, lifting up your nightgown and lowering yourself onto Kaeya. He didn’t make his usual sound of pleasure when he entered you but you paid no mind, placing your hands flat on Kaeya’s stomach so you could move your hips and back forth. Your movement was erratic and, honestly, didn’t feel good at all but you needed this intimacy now.

When you and Kaeya made love, it was gentle and sensual. He treated you like glass and his touches made you feel like you were on cloud nine. But this didn’t feel right. You weren’t feeling loved and beautiful this time. You could only think about what Kaeya said in your dream and maybe he was right.

You started crying again and Kaeya’s heart ached. He hated seeing you like this and he knew that having sex wasn’t what you needed right now.

“Alright, we’re done,” Kaeya said softly. His hands tried to lift you off of him but you only ground your hips down and let out a sob.

“No!” You cried, “We have to finish. We have to.”

“No, we don’t,” Kaeya countered. He suddenly overpowered you, lifting your hips off his and moving you beside him in bed. He pulled his pants back up and pulled your nightgown back down. This time, Kaeya leaned over you and boxed your head in with his arms so you couldn’t roll away. “Tell me what happened.”

At this, your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs. You couldn’t breathe and inaudible words floated out of your mouth. You tried to explain your dream but your wails only drowned it out. Kaeya waited patiently for you to stop crying. He hated seeing you cry but knew you needed this and wasn’t going to push you to stop anytime soon.

He stayed perfectly still until your sobs eventually died out. You were still a teary, sniffling mess but at least you could form coherent sentences now. You shakily explained your dream, repeating what was said to you by the love of your life. Kaeya listened and felt sick. His nose brushed against yours.

“None of that is true,” Kaeya said firmly. His eyes stared intensely into yours and your bottom lip quivered again, “You know that, right?”

“I’m so in love with you,” You started, “So in love that a nightmare about you not loving me is more painful than getting stabbed fifty times. I want to be enough for you.”

“You are enough for me.”

Kaeya’s hands brushed through your hair gently, his thumbs rubbing circles in your temple. Your eyes felt heavy and stung from your hysteria. You snaked your arms around Kaeya’s waist and managed to maneuver your bodies so you were both lying on your sides. Kaeya pulled you close to him and you found solace in the crook of his neck. Kaeya pressed soft, warm kisses all over your face and kissed away the rest of your tears.

“I love you, too,” He whispered.

Your eyes fluttered closed and Kaeya waited until your breathing was normal again to close his own. His hand found yours and laced your fingers together and in that moment you realized that this was the intimacy you were longing for so deeply. Your dream that night would haunt you probably for the rest of your life but as long as you could bring yourself back to reality, back to Kaeya, you would be okay.

Kaeya pressed a final kiss to your temple and spoke one last time before sleep overcame you both. Quoting your favorite book Kaeya said, “I’m in love with you, and I know that love in just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

a/n: did i just quote tfios? yes <3

#kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x you #genshin x you #genshin self insert #genshin writing #genshin drabble #genshin headcanons

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them.

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?”

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself.

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts.

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar.

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep.

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing.

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like.

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift.

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu.

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

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