#it took me awhile to even come up with the concept for this prompt but i’m happy with what i did

[golden--doodler]

Geneuary Day Four: Sunshine/Rainbow

Oh my goshhh, when did we get to Day Four of Geneuary already?? I don’t think I’ll be able to recover once it’s over, I’ll be so sad 😭 But at least I’ve still got my birthday in February to look forward to, and then See More Seymour’s Bay week in early March.

Anyway, have Gene in a super huge, complicated, and colorful dress that I like to think Alexis designed for him. I really wanted to go for an almost abstract, painterly style for this piece.

[ID]: Digital fanart of Gene from Bob's Burgers. His eye is closed in a contemplative expression and he has a couple of visible eyelashes. He is wearing a complex, colorful dress with a lot of layers, with the main colors being purple, blue, and red. It's very poofy and sticks out a bit on the right. One of his hands is visible and held up, but curled into a bit of a fist. His hair is swooped around his face and is colored to look like a rainbow. A butterfly and several flower petals surround him.

[tiannasfanfic]

Happy Birthday

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: This year, Eddie Munson may have finally outdid you when it comes to birthday gifts.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Rockstar!Eddie x Hotwife!Reader. Rock Star AU. Reader is bi or pan (not specified in story). My Pansexual!Reader concept has grown into a Hotwife!Reader. This is pure, unadulterated, shameless smut. Absolute filth ahead. *sorrynotsorry*

CW: Foursome (three f, one m); oral (f receiving); fingering; masturbation (m); face sitting; squirting; voyeurism; sex (p in v); praise; nipple play.

Word Count: 2,094

Ever since the two of you had known each other, you and Eddie always tried to one up each other when it came to birthday gifts.

This only escalated once Corroded Coffin took off and the two of you had the money to get really ridiculous with it, going to outrageous, but thoughtful, lengths to top the other’s gift from their previous birthday.

While you always looked forward to seeing what Eddie was going to do on your birthday, he had really outdone himself this year. The night wasn’t even over yet and you had no idea how you were going to top this one.

“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god, fuck, fuuuuck!”

You were nearly screaming, your entire body trembling as your second orgasm rushed through your body, prompted by the rapid flicking of a pierced tongue directly over your clit.

“Look at her legs shake, Eddie!” came a giggly voice from slightly above you. “That was a good one!”

There was a soft “mm” sound from between your legs as you felt the tongue slide down from your clit to start softly licking at your entrance.

A rush of air escaped your throat in a gasp. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you opened your eyes to watch what was happening.

You found yourself looking into the big green eyes of the woman devouring you, her gaze locked onto your face, watching your expressions with rapt interest.

She stopped probing you with her tongue for a moment to grin up at you.

“Feel good, ?” she asked, before placing a soft kiss right above your clit.

“F-fuck yes,” you said, nodding rapidly.

“Mmm, I’m glad,” she said, then began dipping her tongue in and out of your dripping pussy.

“Gonna be down there awhile, you think?” said the giggling voice next to you.

This voice brought your attention back to the third woman here with you on the bed, a curvy, brown eyed blonde. You would have been hard pressed to say who was hotter, her or the redhead between your legs.

“Oh yeah,” said the redhead, whose name was Vicky, then she propped herself up on one elbow to lean up towards Betty, the blonde, and puckered her lips towards her. “Here. Have a taste.”

Betty leaned over from where she was kneeling next to you to kiss her friend intensely.

“Mmm,” said Betty, licking her lips as she pulled away from the kiss before grinning down to you. “You do taste amazing. Can’t wait to get my own tongue in there.”

“I told you both that you were in for a treat,” came Eddie’s voice from across the room.

Your gaze swiveled at the sound of his voice, locking onto him where he was sitting in an armchair next to the bed.

Just the sight of him made you groan softly.

Eddie was stripped to the waist and at some point had changed from his jeans to a pair of loose gray sweats. Between that and his reclined pose, you could see how hard he was from watching you three on the bed.

You started to stretch your free hand out to him, your other one holding onto the back of Vicky's head. A gasp left your lips soon as Betty’s mouth came back down around one of your nipples.

“C’mere, baby,” you whined to Eddie. “Lemme suck your cock.”

While Eddie palmed himself through his sweats and groaned at your words, he shook his head at you.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, his voice that low tone it always was when he was severely turned on. “Vicky and Betty here were eye fucking you at the after party, not me.”

A loud moan left your lips then as Vicky stopped licking your entrance in favor of going back to your clit. But she didn’t leave your dripping hole unattended for too long before she sank a finger into you.

“Then Eddie approached us and said it’s your birthday,” giggled Betty against your chest before she kissed and licked her way up to your mouth. “That was an offer we definitely couldn’t refuse.”

Vicky hummed against your clit in agreement as she began sliding her finger in and out of you. Soon she added a second, causing your eyes to close again as you moaned loudly.

“Now, enjoy yourself, sweetheart,” you heard Eddie say. “These fine ladies are going to take good care of you.”

Betty’s lips captured yours then in a deep kiss right as Vicky curved her fingers inside you. You opened your mouth against hers in a moan, which Betty took full advantage of. Her tongue slipped into your mouth as she used two fingers on each hand to tease and flick both of your nipples.

As Betty went to work on your mouth and tits, Vicky’s movements became slower. It was almost lazy the way she ran the tip of her tongue around your clit. After a couple of passes, she placed a soft kiss directly on it, then lifted her head to look at Betty.

“Maybe Y/N just needs something to keep their mouth busy,” she said, then lightly licked a stripe up your slit, making you gasp.

Vicky pulled back just a bit to look in your eyes.

“Is it that, pretty girl?” she asked. “You just want anything to lick and suck, don’t you?”

Words were a bit beyond you at this point, you just nodded your head rapidly, looking up at Betty with wide eyes.

She grinned down at you, then leaned back on her knees.

“What would you like, these?” she asked, bringing her hands up to squeeze her own bare tits. “Or…”

She trailed one hand down her body, your eyes following it the whole way, to start lightly rubbing her pussy through the lace g string she still wore.

“This?”

Your eyes followed Betty’s movements with rapt attention as her fingers worked over the flimsy black lace. It was a very loose weave of lace, letting you see her slit through it. You couldn’t help but lick your lips, then your gaze traveled up her body back to her eyes.

“P-please sit on my face,” you whimpered softly, then moaned as Vicky pumped her fingers into you harder before slowing back down.

Betty grinned down at you.

“Now how could I say no to that?”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you lay back on the bed, watching her shed the g string.

As she was shifting around to the bed to get into position, you took one last look over at Eddie. Now he had his cock free of his sweats and one hand wrapped around it. He was stroking himself slowly, lazily, not a pace that would make him cum anytime soon.

His eyes locked onto yours and he grinned playfully.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he said. “I love you.”

There wasn’t any time for you to reply. Betty moved just then so one knee was on either side of your head. Now all you could see was her pillowy thighs and her beautiful pussy just a few inches above her face.

Just the sight alone made you moan.

“Ready?” Betty giggled down at you as she took ahold of the headboard for balance.

“Mmhmm,” you said, nodding eagerly as your hands came up to rub the backs of her thighs. “Wanna taste you, beautiful.”

Without another word, she lowered herself down on your eager mouth, where you wasted no time before running your tongue through her wet folds. As Vicky continued to slowly fuck you with her fingers, you slid your tongue as far into Betty’s pussy as it could go, wiggling it and earning a gasp from above you.

You opened your eyes and looked up at her, meeting her gaze as she leaned over against the headboard to watch you eat her pussy. Winking at her, you trailed your tongue back up to her clit at the same time you wrapped your arms around her thighs. You then pulled her down even further into your mouth and you eagerly latched onto her, sucking on her sensitive bud with enthusiasm.

It didn’t take long before the bedroom was filled with Betty’s moans and gasp.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, breaking eye contact finally to throw her head back, arching back forward.

“Did I forget to mention how absolutely sinful Y/N is with their mouth?” you could hear Eddie say under Betty’s moans.

To empathize his words, you let go of her clit with your lips to start working it over with your tongue instead.

“God, fuck!” Betty cried, holding onto the headboard and starting to grind her pussy down against your mouth.

At that time, Vicky started fingering you harder, making you gasp and moan around Betty’s clit, which made her moan even more.

“Make her cum, sweetheart,” you heard Eddie say to you. “Show Betty here what that mouth can do.”

Not in a teasing mood, you did what you were told, your tongue working her clit with rapid fire speed, circling and flicking over it with skilled precision. It didn’t take long before her thighs were trembling on either side of your head as her hips rocked forward. You softly nipped at the hood of her clit, making her gasp loudly, before going back to work with her tongue.

It didn’t take much longer before Betty was coming undone. Your face became even more messy with her wetness as she humped your mouth through her orgasm. Then you eagerly switched from her clit to her dripping pussy, your hands gripping her thighs just under her ass to spread her open wider. She moaned and whimpered as your tongue swirled around her entrance before diving back in.

“F-fuck, pretty girl, your tongue is magic,” she moaned loudly.

At that moment, Vicky wrapped her lips around your clit and started sucking on it hard as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

You moaned loudly into Betty’s folds as you felt the coil in you start to build for the third time tonight, but now you wanted Betty to cum with you this time. You slid one hand fully between her legs to push your fingers into her, your tongue lapping up her wetness as it dripped out of her before going back to flick over her clit. Keeping the same pace with Vicky, soon you and Betty both were moaning loudly in unison.

The vibrations of your mouth around her clit had Betty cumming again. As her cum and wetness ran down from your fingers, you kept the same pace to fuck her through her orgasm. When the coil finally snapped and you let out a carnal moan against Betty’s clit, her body started trembling.

“G-gonna c-c-“ Betty panted, trying to grind herself on both your mouth and fingers at the same time, before she suddenly cried out and clenched tight around you in a surprise orgasm.

And what a surprise it was.

A stream of liquid suddenly drenched your chin and neck as Betty squirted on your face. You eagerly lapped your tongue through her dripping slit, moaning softly at her taste.

Your body was trembling now, the motions of your tongue growing erratic as Vicky continued to work her fingers in and out of you the way you were still finger fucking Betty. It was only seconds before you were crying out as your own pussy gushed around Vicky’s fingers.

“Holy shit,” you heard Eddie say from his chair, sounding awestruck.

Soon, you, Betty and Vicky were laying in each other’s arms, two of you trembling and giggling in your post orgasm bliss, the third holding and stroking you both soothingly.

After a while, you felt two strong hands grasp your ankles, and soon your body was pulled down to the edge on the bed, where you found yourself looking up into Eddie’s grinning face.

“Don’t tell me you’re all tapped out now,” he said playfully, capturing one of your legs to place it over his shoulder. “I haven’t had a turn with you yet.”

Without giving you time to reply, Eddie lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and slid his hard length into you in one smooth motion.

As your eyes rolled up into the back of your head, you had just a moment to wonder how on earth you were going to top this birthday before he started pounding himself into you and you lost all capacity for rational thought.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

[russellsppttemplates]

Big Girl (Mick Schumacher)

Mick is working on not letting his wife be the 'bad cop parent' on her own and he's doing pretty good (well, for the most part)

Note: english is not my first language. She's back with a big piece (but that will be the only one for awhile, and this is also to celebrate the end of building work in the house! I finally have a fully functioning house!), it was just such a delicous concept and something I feel a lot about so I wanted to write a big piece for it

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated even though I don't have the time that I used to have to dedicate here 🤍 and I'm not taking requests, but I am writing some blurbs when I can (usually at nighttime) so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

"Rora, didn't I tell you to tidy the room before you went to bed?", you said as you couldn't help the way your shoulders slumped when you got to your daughter's room, ready to tuck her in bed when you found out the mess it was, toys and books on the floor, "Papa called me for dinner and we left it like this", she mumbled, seeing you weren't mad at her but upset that she hadn't done like you asked, "C'mon, let's tidy this up so you can have a good night of sleep, okay?", you prompted as you both took care of the situation.

.

You got home from work, putting your shoes away along with your coat ad you carried your bag to your home office when you heard sweet giggles coming from the living room, walking to the door to see Angie laying on the sofa in her usual spot while a Disney movie played on TV, Aurora in a fit of giggles from the tickles Mick was giving her on her tummy and under her arms, "Papa, it tickles!", she would announce every now and again before he stopped, picking her up so he could hold her on his hip when your presence was noticed, "Mama, you're back!", she yelled a bit too loudly, the headache you had unfortunately brought home even after a coffee and a painkiller not thriving with the noise, "Hello, my loves", you replied, "how was your day?", you asked before you kissed Aurora's forehead and pressed a kiss to your husband's cheek, "it was good, I played with my friends at school and I made a drawing, I'll show you, c'mon!", she urged you as her father let her feet hit the floor, her small hand grabbing yours as she guided you to her room, your husband following you two as well. To your surprise, the room was a little bit tidier than you expected, only a few toys spread around but your expression fell when you saw where she had kept the drawing she had made with paints, the coloured liquid seeping a bit through the paper and getting on the sheets of her bed, "it's beautiful, Aurora. Who are these people?", you asked, doing your best at hiding the discomfort in your head and your annoyance at how the drawing ended up there and not on the table she had for the handcrafts she enjoyed doing, "this is papa, you, because you're a bit shorter than him when you don't have your big shoes, me and Angie! It's our family", she announced and you smiled faintly, the drawing still a beautiful piece given her age and, after taking care of her sheets, you'd be keeping it safe somewhere in the house, "this is so beautiful, Rora", you said as you squeezed her to your side, your daughter higging you close too, "what do you say you and papa go have a bath now?", you said and you could see her reluctance from afar, "but why do I have to do it?", she whined, "Because it's time for you to have bath, my love, that's just how it is", you explained, "fine", she muttered as she got off the bed, her little feet trying to stomp loudly on the floor to show her point, Mick following her before he looked back for you, seeing you strip the duvet from its cover and internally cringing when he realised that, despite thinking about not leaving the drawing there, he had forgotten to day it outloud to his daughter.

After a negation at the dinner table about Aurora eating the vegetables in her plate (that you lost), you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed as you took in the accounts for the day, just wanting to lay in bed in Mick's embrace and fall asleep, wiping your mouth after you brushed your teeth and joining him in the middle of the sheets, "I know you're upset with something", he said, "And it's not the headache I know you have probably since before you got home", he hinted, making you realise you failed at hiding it, "it's just", you began as you faced him as he had his back against the headboard, "I feel like I'm the one who's the bad cop for Aurora, I'm the one telling her to eat the food on her plate, I'm the one telling her to clean up, it's like I'm pointing flaws to her that she doesn't have, my babygirl, but we can't let her keep going like this", you expressed your feelings, prompting your husband to grab your hands and lace your fingers in his, "I can do it too, although it's going to take me sometime, but I don't want it to go all on your shoulders", he said truthfully, "if we're both the ones telling her, she will come to it eventually", you reasoned as Mick nodded, "Also, why would you leave a drawing that is not dry yet on the sheets? I managed to take some of the stain off but I'm not sure I can do the rest", you chuckled, hugging his waist as you layed your head in his chest, "I can go to the laundry room when I get home after my meeting tomorrow and see what I can do about it", he said as he wrapped his arms around you, "you bet you are going to do something about it, handsome".

.

Mick was trying, you had to give him that. Everytime you said something to Aurora that she didn't feel particularly drawn to do at the moment she looked at her father for some way to avoid it, but ended up only receiving encouraging words for her to do it on her own, Mick and yourself leaving the room while he admitted it had been hard the last couple of days, "I know it's not that, but I can't help but feel like I'm leaving her on her own to do things", he admitted as you hugged his waist, "you're allowing her to be autonomous, to be independent and also to learn that she can't always have her way", you said as you kissed his clothed chest, "and you're doing very well, I'm very proud of you for doing it, I know how much it bothers you", you said as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

.

You had finished setting the food in the table, calling for your husband and daughter (and Angie would inevitably join you since food was mentioned) so they could get to the table, "Oh, my favourite! Thanks, mama!", Aurora said as you opened the pot to take some food to your plate, Mick kissing the top of your head in a silent thank you before everyone got the food on their plates, Aurora grabbing the serving spoon to the vegetables and putting some on her plate much to yours and Mick's surprise, choosing not to mention it as you saw her eat all the food in her plate without a complaint. While you and Mick tidied up the kitchen you saw Aurora and Angie head upstairs, not hearing any noise that concerned you as you assumed they were just playing around before bedtime, "you can go upstairs and do the night routine with her, I know you two like it that way and I'll finish here", you said as you threw a towell to his hands so he could dry them. You did not expect your husband to be back so soon, hearing his footsteps when you put the broom back in its place, "so soon? Is Rora okay?", you asked, a million and one scenarios coming into your mind as to why he would be down here at that moment, "She said that she only wanted a goodnight kiss from me and from you, and that she would fall asleep on her own like a big girl", Mick said with an unreadable expression on his face, "did she now?", you said, proud of your little girl as you both headed upstairs to do so, checking with her if she wanted it that way and earning her confirmation, kissing her forehead goodnight before tucking her in and petting Angie's head.

Mick sat in the sofa looking at the blank TV screen, "you know you have to put it on for it to show something, right? Technology hasn't gone that far for you to be able to control it like that", you teased, the comment flying by him, "Aurora just told me she is a big girl now", he let out, making you join the dots of what was worrying him, "and this is all your fault by the way", he pointed, "there are no babies in this family now, no one needs me, not even for bedtime cuddles", he exasperated with a pout, and you could only laugh, "our babygirl has grown up, but she'll always be our babygirl, my love", you sat on his lap as you cupped his face with your hands, "and I've been thinking about a sibling for Aurora, I think she's ready, and we're in a good place", you forwarded what had been on your mind, "I've been thinking about it too, especially since you made me lose my bedtime cuddles' buddy", he teased you, the smirk that had caught your eye from the first time you saw making an appearance, "Is she now? Well, let's see how you do with nobody to cuddle you today then", you said as you tried to leave him, your husband managing to turn you both around so your back hit the soft sofa cushions, "No chance, schatz", he said wirh a mischievous glint in his eyes.

[yanderes-galore]

So , i saw that you do Pirates of the Caribbean and could you do yandere Jack Sparrow? I'm REALLY curious about how he'd be as a yandere.

I have some prompts and concepts of him to do, so let me just get this down to know how to write him. I'm not sure how this came out, so let me know your feedback. I may alter it in the future.

Yandere! Jack Sparrow Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Mentions of intimate relations, Stockholm syndrome, Selfish behavior, Jealousy, Forced relationship, Delusional behavior, Alcohol, Drinking, Paranoia, He's a bit OOC my bad.

Ah yes, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

He has some serious potential, despite his commitment issues.

Even then, it just means the pirate won't marry.

He will still keep you to himself.

Jack Sparrow is Manipulative/Persuasive, Intelligent, Flirty, Possessive, and Selfish.

He's a trickster who gives in easily to his own desires.

He's also a man who knows what he wants and would do anything to get it.

Call him... persistent.

Once he likes you it's like you can't get rid of him, a man who only ever brings curses and bad luck to those around him.

Jack is extremely charismatic, how else do you think he convinces people?

With some well placed words, many would trust him.

Unless they trusted him before....

He'd simply give you a grin and a compliment, drink in hand as he gives into the taste of rum.

The pirate not only knows his way around, but he'd get a naive darling to trust him in no time.

You'd have to hear the tales from others to not give into such a charm.

It's best to give him a challenge, maybe he'll give up?

Unfortunately, no.

Despite being intimate with and having many, he isn't satisfied.

Not when someone like you is in front of him.

A treasure to take.

He normally doesn't take to someone long.

The sea is where he belongs and he just gets intimate once in awhile.

Plus, marriage or having someone at home would hinder his freedom-

Which is why his obsession is either a crew member or hostage.

Yes, Jack would kidnap.

He's a pirate... they steal... it's expected, really.

That way this obsession of his doesn't affect his freedom.

Although it does take yours.

"Isn't this wonderful, dear? The sea breeze on your face... away from the world's rules!"

"I want to go home-"

"This is your home now?"

In a way, Jack is probably also delusional.

With a combiniation of the alcohol he consumes and his obsession, he probably thinks you are all for him and just shy.

Openly hate him? You may just be playing hard to get.

He's hard to get away from.

Always a bit too touchy, too.

You wouldn't mind if he showered or something.

He probably has some sort of disease.

Jack's also very possessive.

On the sea as a pirate, other pirates are either allies or threats.

Knowing Jack, they are more likely enemies.

He has a fear that like his treasure or ship... you'll be stolen away from his grasp by some other person.

Even though he took you on his ship by force or persuasion, he doesn't want it to backfire.

If he feels nervous about you with the other crew he'll express it.

Often it's an arm around your waist or calling you by his side.

You still see him as your captain, right?

It gives him pride when you admit you see him as a captain.

Oof... jealousy comes easily.

When jealous, he heavily continues to try and charm you.

Flirting an uncomfortable amount while coaxing you into allowing him to hold you.

In a way, through all that drunken confidence, it's like he's scared to lose someone he holds so close now.

Jack even has vulnerable moments when you're alone.

He wants to be held... he wants you to love him... it's strange to see him like this in the Captain's Quarters.

Speaking of alcohol, he encourages you to drink rum with him.

It'll ease the nerves! You'll have a better time with him that way!

He gets so needy.

He's charming with his words but he is always asking for something.

Pirates always want something.

As your captain, he expects basic loyalty.

Even more so as his 'lover', despite him being untrustworthy.

A hypocrite at heart....

He also knows you'll fall for him at some point, having confidence you'll comply to his looks and charm.

He's willing to wait... not like you can leave.

There's nothing but ocean for miles.

You haven't seen land in a long while.

It's a torturous experience of life with him, rocking softly on the Black Pearl as he tries to convince you getting with him is a good idea.

He's tried courting you on land.

You ignored the pirate too long so he took you on board with the intention of either using you for bribes or making you his.

It became just keeping you to himself the longer he was near you on the ship.

Jack yearns for the days he can take you to ports without you running off.

He has enemies everywhere!

It's dangerous to just run off because you'll no doubt be used against him.

He doesn't want to be seen for long.

He'd also get weird looks if he asked around for you-

He'd have to have his crew watch you (if he has one by this point).

If not, then chain you to the boat so he can't risk you fleeing.

You tire him out with your fighting....

Getting you to the point of stockholm syndrome would be when it gets so much easier for him.

He would prefer genuine attraction from you, but you take what you can get-

If he can't get you to fall for him willingly then he'll do what he can to gain your affection.

Pirates will take and take and take....

You are his greatest treasure...

He'll take everything he can from you because you're his.

"Being with me isn't that bad, doll! I assure you... you'll have one hell of a time at sea with me."

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi Goldy, it’s been awhile…where have you been? This is an appreciation post for your blog. I love your write ups, thought process and inputs so much because it makes the most sense to me. There are times when I watch a moment and notice some things, i search a lot of blogs but their takes are different from what I perceive because I sometimes view things from a different perspective and then I come here and I’m justified that at least one person is sharing the same brain cells with me. When your predictions becomes reality it gives me joy and I think in order to do that then it means you connected with the boys on a personal level and see them as humans not fictional characters. I enjoyed going through your posts dated way back because I’m a new Army…it gave me the most joy and I connected with the boys more personally and your long write ups are da bombs😍😍.

Ps: Don’t abandon us here 🙏🙏. Visit us once in awhile with a lengthy post so I can grab my peanuts and sip my juice while settling for a long and enjoyable read.

Stuuuhpp! You giving me the Sugas☺☺☺

Believe it or not I come here everyday 🤣🤣🤣🤣

And thank you ☺ my posts are like that. Those who get it get it. Those who don't don't.

I might have to go through my Ask box for prompts. I've been binging old content and so far I haven't come across anything I haven't opined on. If anyone here has a theory, submission, take, Ask, please feel free to leave em in my inbox.

In the mean time, if I do come across anything interesting- by that I mean anything I find exciting- nothings gonna stop me from talking about it 🤣🤙🏾

I'm just at a place where everything Hybe does annoys me and I am not happy with the direction anything is going. I feel this is a make or break moment and they are just messing up big time. Or may be I just have to trust the process but if they don't bombard me with content soon, I might have to break into the vaults at Gybe headquarters and steal some disks.

Forget doing Solo projects one by one, do it all at once, confuse the shit out of me, make it hard for me to choose whom to support first, overwhelm me, squeeze me for all my penny, I wanna go broke and bankrupt, my sell my property and live on the streets.

Do you know how disappointed I was to find out Jungkook going camping was all staged and not as spontaneous and autonomous/ entirely free willed as I thought it would be- when the director asked him to go get food for just content I stopped watching the video. It took me some days to get back to it.

Also yes, we all thought we heard Jimin laugh in there somewhere. It was strange. Didn't know a lot of people sounded like other people. Never mind me.

With this DraKoola project, I think I'm falling in love with Jungkook 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I just might go on a YN self insert spree and edit myself into all and any Jikook intimate moments. If the bimbos can do it, I can do it too.

How sexy is it than when JUNGKOOK SAID THE CONCEPT HE WANTED WAS SPECIFICALLY VAMPIRE THEMED. HOW SELXY IS THAT!!!!!!!!!

Jungkook is legit my guardian angel. My quarterback. Not sure if he was inspired by the seven fate project or the many vampire edits of him or all those prude and stuck up sanctimonious fans who moon walked into my comments and wrote ignorant bigoted disparaging posts about me for making twilight references comparing Jungkook to a vampire- since I'm delusional I'll go with the latter😌

Dude became a vampire- LITERALLY. HOW👏🏾ABOUT👏🏾THAT👏🏾

The bit about the darkening of his soul- WHOAH🤯🤯

Blew my mind to the heavens. HOW DEEP IS THAT!

I hope this is connected to something much bigger than just a simple art concept to sell photos 😐

Jungkook is a creative genius. If he came up with this concept on his own, I promise you it didn't come to him in a vacuum and is intricately and inextricably linked to all arts he is created even if it is on a subconscious level. I can't wait to dissect that shit.

I hate that we have to wait for the others one after the other and wish they released it all at the same time. Going solo means seven things can happen at once in different ways.

Making us wait for their turns feel much like OT7 which is one of the things that frustrated me to begin with with the whole OT7 agenda. I mean if they worked under different labels I don't think they would care who went first or not and they would do things concurrently not consecutively 🤷.

It seems Hybe is trying to eliminate competition amongst them while making sure they each get Army's full and undivided attention- but I think FUCK THAT SHIT. LET THEM COMPETE FOR OUR ATTENTION HUNGER GAMES STYLE.

KEEP THEM ON THEIR TOES. CHALLENGE THEM SO THEY CHALLENGE THEMSELVES.

PAINT THE FANDOM RED WITH THEIR BLOOD. QUIT PLAYING IT SAFE.

This is their youth. With the way they gave us crap about aging these past few years, I don't expect they waste time doing nothing at all. Keep them busy busy busy. If they burn out good. Good. They can rest when they can no longer move their bones.

Anyway, I'm bored. Hybe is boring😴

TOO SLOW 🐌 FOR ME

Thank you for this. You are nice. Keep going.

ALSO, HOW IS JIMIN NOT RELEASING THE YOU ARE NICE KEEP GOING MERCH ALREADY🤕

I REALLY CAN DO BETTER THAN HYBE.

I'm gonna spam Jimin's account until he creates this shirt. And that bracelet 🥲 I've never wanted to commit grand robbery in my life.

Also I think I found Jimin"s secret tiktok account😆

Namjoon needs to come on Vlive often😔

I don't post often these days because all I have is a bunch of complaints and I will just end up bashing and cussing @ HYBE if I opened my mouth🙃

GOLDY

[autumnslance]

You get two: ⭐ for Bearing Sins of the Past while it's still fresh in your mind; and a fresh ⭐star⭐ for something you've been dying to talk about, well, here is the invitation to do so and a venue to boot! (@driftward)

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.  Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

Who's the menace now, coming in here with 2 requests? But sure.

Also: this prompt was sent by my beta reader for the named fic, so they have seen the major parts of the revision in full!

Bearing Sins of the Past is something I have plonked at for the last 2+ years between other writing projects; sometimes editing and rewriting things there could help shake dust loose when another story had me stymied. But with Endwalker, This Home Wrested Forth for the DRKzine, and life in general, it just took awhile.

Part of that were some scenes I felt I wanted to add, and going back and forth on whether or not I wanted to keep the single sex scene in the Ao3 posted work. In the end, though it's not actually Aeryn's conception (I specifically made the timeline not match up even during the 24 hour prompts), I felt the scene did show not only some effects drinking Avengret's blood had on Corran, but how he felt about his wife, aspects of their relationship, and their conscious decision to have another child--without Corran knowing or thinking about the effect of his choices on said child.

Adding in a scouting scene with Heustienne took much longer to sort out, and it's still obviously a bridge chapter, but it gives her a little more time in the story when so much else is focused around Alberic and Corran, or from Estinien's POV. The scene with Tarresson and Gullinbursti from FFXIV Write is gone, but replaced with a new chapter after Aeryn learns the truth, one I'd already had half-written back during the 2021 challenge, actually, but found no room for in those prompts. I also wanted to keep Emelia's voice in there; Corran tends to put her on a pedestal in his POV chapters. Her chapter is heavily shuffled around, as it has to do with memories and what triggers them (and the later vignettes from Thavnair are gone).

I spent a good chunk of time moving sections of text around, recombining chapters; some were obvious, others were not. Some things shuffled around to many places before settling where they belong.

Also sorry, FCmates, but in interests of fairness and a tad less confusion, the cameos are gone. I may still tweak the climactic scene, actually, and remove my other OCs and stick to NPCs entirely. Haven't decided and I have time yet; I just posted chapter 1 yesterday and that's chapter 15, after all.

I really don't stop iterating and editing until I actually post. After that, it's generally just minor typo and wording fixes.

==

And I am making Biot send me separate prompts cuz there's always more to yell about but this is long enough!

[demonprincezeldris]

Melrouban (angst? I'll try.) This one will be more Melban though, we gonna work our way up.

When Meliodas hears about Ban, the fox sin of Greed, when he learns about his immortality, the first thought he has is that maybe, just maybe, he can find a kindred spirit in this man. Another great sinner and, more importantly, another immortal. Somehow who is cursed to never die. When people learn he's immortal, they think it is a blessing but no. Maybe, just maybe, this man will understand what it's like, what a burden it really is.

When he sees him, he almost chokes, but manages to mask it. His first thought is Rou. It was hard to tell at a glance, the man covered in grime, his clothes tattered, his hair overgrown and matted, the beard just as bad... but he couldn't miss those eyes, those piercing, slanted, FAMILIAR, gorgeous red eyes.

They say eyes are windows to the soul, and for a moment, he thought he saw Rou's. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he met the reincarnation of someone he cared about, even if he didn't count Elizabeth. When you lived as long as he did, it was bound to happen, and oh, it did.

But no, it was just a trick of the mind. Which he knew, of course. Rou was currently living in the form of Oslo, the black hound of the Fairy King's forest. He knew that, because when Gerheade had introduced him to the puppy centuries and centuries ago, he had broken down, much to the poor woman's confusion. As soon as she managed to get out of him that the soul inside the pup was ROU'S, she had cried too. Oslo had been absolutely baffled, but tried to comfort them, licking the salty tears off their cheeks and prompting them to play. It worked a little.

He stared at the man for a moment, who raised an eyebrow as Meliodas fought to gather himself. He did, finally, and grinned at him. "Bandit Ban, Ban the Undead, Fox Sin of Greed... I want you on my team."

"Mm... Nah. You want me out of the cell, you gotta move me yourself."

So he did, and Ban took GREAT joy in being thrown around, agreeing to come along so Meliodas could do it more often. What a DORK.

The two become fast friends, and, eventually, lovers. They were drunk (He LOVES Merlin and her weird concoctions capable of getting even HIM drunk, and he has 400x the tolerance of a human.) That's actually true, I did the math on it. And he turned in, heading to his chambers. He had been in the middle of stripping when Ban entered his room, leaning on the closed door, looking down. Meliodas looked at him curiously, not bothering to cover himself. He still had underwear on, but honestly, modesty wasn't all that much of a concept to him. He'd lived in Brittania for 3000 years, so of course he understood it, but he also grew up an environment where everyone knew at least ONE nudist. At least. "Ban? Hey, what're you- MMPH!!"

Ban strode forward, grabbing his neck and slamming their lips together. Meliodas was tense for all of a minute, but honestly, his mind was still hazy from the alcohol, he'd been attracted to this man for quite awhile, this kiss was hot as fuck, and didn't really want to push him off. So he let Ban kiss him, push him back onto his bed, and climb on top of him. Just to get a reaction, just to see how far this would go, he lifted his knee and slotted it between Ban's legs. He groaned and pulled back with a wet smack.

"Captainnn..." He drawled, voice hoarse. He took a shuddering breath. "If you don't want- Tell me to stop."

"Don't you dare fucking stop." Meliodas hissed right back, clenching a hand in his hair, and yanking him right back down.

So he didn't.

When Meliodas woke up, it was because Ban was trying to slip out of bed. Meliodas grabbed his wrist and dragged him back on. "Ah ah ah! Ya don't get to sneak off and pretend nothing happened after railing me. We're gonna talk about this."

Ban groaned. "But I'm hungover..."

"That's a bullshit excuse, and we both know it, your regeneration will have covered that by now. If you'd like though, I can make breakfast to help..." He batted his eyelashes, and Ban made a face. "Oh God, please no." Meliodas just smirked and slipped over to straddle his waist. "Now." He chirped, leaning on his chest. "What was that all about? What do you want from this?"

Ban did not like talking about his emotions one bit, and getting answers out of him was like pulling teeth. But, eventually, he got what he needed, and agreed to try a relationship with him.

(Diane was very very jealous.)

It took a good year for him to fess up. It might have taken longer, but he'd found Ban with puffy, far off eyes, an empty bottle in hand, lounging on his couch.

"You're gonna die soon, Captain." He'd said. "Everyone's gonna die but me. I'm gonna have to keep on living. You're gonna die, and I'm gonna be alone again."

"...No. I ain't." He knew, he understood the terror of being left behind, left alone. And he wouldn't force Ban to feel that any longer.

"What are you talking about?" He dropped the bottle and his hands drifted up to his smaller lovers hips as the blonde climbed onto his lap. Meliodas brushed a kiss under his ear, leaving his head there, by his neck. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact just yet.

"When I first heard about you being immortal, I was ecstatic. It's selfish of me, but I was so happy that someone else would understand it."

"...Captain. What are you talking about?"

"...Remember how we celebrated my birthday a few months ago, and I wouldn't tell you all my actual age?"

"Yeah?"

"That's because I don't really know. I haven't aged in a LONG time, Ban. I'm as immortal as you are. And I know all too well the fear of being left alone."

Ban tensed, and pushed him back gently. He allowed it, eyes flickering over his face seriously. "I'm not lying, Ban. The difference is that I can die, but only temporarily. I'll always revive. I've certainly tried, just as I know you have, but-" He shrugged. "It doesn't stick. Ban, listen to me, ok?" He lifted a hand and gripped his chin. "You never have to worry about out living me."

Ban wasn't one to cry, but he did now, just a little.

Oh my goodness I loved this so much! SO much angst for both of our precious boys.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

School House Blues

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Identifying Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Warnings: N/A

Request from Anon:  Hey so I saw your post that said requests for certain characters were open and I was wondering if I could ask for a din djarin x plus size reader with this prompt please? : (19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. I was thinking the kid could be one of her students! Thank you so much in advance ♥️♥️

Summary: When the bounty hunter strolls into your little mining town you don’t think much of it, but with a little boy in his wake and your school house in disrepair, he becomes more than just a passing visit, but a welcome constant.

Notes: You know me too well, Western AU/historic AU Din is so good as a concept and ughhhhhh this was so wonderful to have requested and I hope desperately that it’s good!

Reader isn’t really specified as plus size just because it didn’t really come up in the story? Although she is described as being quite soft and sweet in appearance. 

Archiveofourown

He comes into town with one hand clenched around his horse’s reins, guiding the bay and white creature with a bounty hogtied swearing and cursing over its rump, and the other hand holding a little boy of no older than six at his hip. It’s quite the sight, one that momentarily distracts you from your grief at the fact you’re teaching your children out of a saloon now since your schoolhouse was burnt to the ground. 

He’s imposing or he would be if the little boy wasn’t smiling up at him with big brown eyes. It’s hard to be imposing when you’re clearly the world of a small child and it makes you smile from the porch of the saloon. You’d been organising the boxes of donations the townsfolk had put together, since all your books, slates, chalk, paper, pencils, and the like had burnt in the fire, when he strolls past. He glances over at you and tips his head, hat dipping over his chestnut eyes and it flusters you for a second when you finally see his face. 

He’s handsome, incredibly so, too handsome to be in your small mining town you think. Deep brown eyes, a prominent nose and plump lips set in a perpetual pout. His jaw is sharp and his beard and moustache are trimmed neatly, despite the bruising on his face and the layer of dirt from the road he’s truly beautiful, a thought that flusters you further. The small boy sat comfortably at his hip and playing with the fabric of his suspenders is adorable, soft round cheeks and large brown eyes, but he doesn’t look much like the man and you’re curious what the story is there. 

The boy is old enough to be in school with you, to sit and learn his letters and to read while the older kids move on to learning about science, history, mathematics and poetry. There are a couple of children his age in your class, Timmy and Mary-Beth, both just getting the hang of gripping a pencil correctly. You wonder if he won’t be joining your class soon or if he and his guardian will be out of town before you can even consider preparing for a new student. 

You watch the man hitch the horse outside the Sheriff’s office, the one that’s not got a sheriff at the moment. You hope he’s not looking for quick pay, the lawman that resided in the Sheriff’s office at the moment was just there until they could find a new sheriff. He’d have to telegram out to get the bounty money. Your last sheriff had up and left after being shot at by a couple of drunk miners, he’d decided that was enough and quite the same day. The town had been a little more unruly since and it was beginning to make you and some of the other townsfolk uneasy without someone to keep the peace. The temporary lawman had been lazy and uninvolved thus far. It was after the sheriff quit that your schoolhouse burnt down and you weren’t sure it was coincidence. 

You watch the man place the boy on his feet and say something quietly to him before brushing his hair fondly. He grabs the bounty off of the horse, and slings the man over his shoulder. It’s impressive that he doesn’t struggle up the steps to the office even with a fully grown man thrown over his shoulder, the little boy follows after him as he goes inside. 

You return to your organisation. There aren’t that many books, not like you used to have. But, while you wait for some of your teaching associates across the country to send you items, they will do. There’s enough paper and some slates for all your students to practice their writing and get their work written down which is a relief and even a globe that the general store owner, Mr Hewitt, had found in a back cupboard for you to have. 

You’re trying to lift one of the boxes of books when he comes back out again, the little boy still trailing behind him, but this time something shiny is pinned to the man’s blue shirt. You don’t think too much about it as you struggle to lift the box, your heavy skirts not helping you move much, hindering your progress and causing you to trip each step forward you take. 

You hear his boots on the wooden stairs before you see him, he towers over you, as he takes his hat off, more polite than most men in town. You get a better look at the shiny thing pinned to his shirt and realise it’s a sheriff’s badge. The same one the old sheriff used to wear, you look from it to him and then down when you hear a little giggle. The little boy is still following after him, a sweet smile turned on you this time as he leans around the man’s legs to watch you.

“Miss, I can take that.” He gestures to the box in your hand, it’s not a question, and it’s straight and to the point. But, you’re grateful for the offer and hand it off to him without complaint. He’s stronger than you, that’s clear to see, his arms thick from years of hard work.

“Thank you…” You wait for him to tell you his name, trailing off as you lead him into the saloon that has been set out for the school day. There is a black board at the front, tables and chairs littered around the room, the liquor shelves have been emptied for books to replace them. 

The fact that Mr Karga had offered the saloon for the school was a miracle and while many in town grumbled about their favourite place of vice no longer admitting them during the day time, most were supportive of the decision to help the kids continue their school. Nevarro wasn’t a large town and mining was its main source of income, but the children deserved a chance to do more than just become miners and the school helped them do that. You helped them get into colleges on scholarships, to find jobs as clerks and apprentices in other parts of the country. 

“Din Djarin.” It’s a nice name, rolls of his tongue like honey. He doesn’t smile, not really, not properly, but there’s a little crinkle at the corners of his eyes that soften his face and make him seem warmer somehow. 

“And this little one?” You smile at the little boy as he begins to bravely step out from behind his guardian to greet you with a smile. He is a quiet boy, not the usual talkative sort you find with a six year old, but who knows what he’s been through even at this young age. 

“Grogu, he’s my…” He furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard on the right word. That alone tells you he is not his son by blood, a small fact that makes him even more interesting. Not many bounty hunters would take in a small child. “Son.” he finally says. Deciding it is the best term. Grogu isn’t his by blood, Din knows this, but the little boy he’d found all alone surrounded by death, was slowly becoming like a son to him. Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more than blood. 

“Will he be joining my class? I run the school, currently we’re based here...in the saloon. Not my ideal place to teach but needs must.” You gesture around you to the makeshift classroom. You don’t like that the place still stinks of liquor or that at night it goes back to being a saloon where people drink, gamble, and fight. But, you don’t have a better place right now and the children need somewhere to learn. You can teach in any building, even if you dislike this one. 

You fit the image of a school teacher he thinks. You look like a respectable young woman, dressed appropriately, all neat and proper. Your hair pulled up and pinned away like it’s supposed to be. Everything about you is proper. Part of him wants to see you become ruffled, stop being so demure. It’s a thought that makes him frown at himself, the thoughts inappropriate especially towards a lady like yourself.

“Yes. We’ll be staying for awhile. What happened to the school house, Miss…?” He took on the job as sheriff the moment the lawman offered it, the pay was good, gave him his own accommodation and it meant he could settle down for a bit, give the kid an actual childhood. Bounty hunting was something he was good at but it wasn’t exactly safe to do with a six year old in tow. At least this job used his skills catching lawbreakers and put them to use in a place the kid could grow up. It helps that the teacher of the town is pretty too, he thinks. 

You give him your name before answering his question, “Well, after the last sheriff quit, the schoolhouse burnt down and along with all the things we had in it. Luckily it was at night and none of us were in the building. Burnt right down to the ground, nothing left…” You say it with a heavy sigh, thinking of that sweet little schoolhouse. The white painted wood, the familiar rows of desks with names carved in them, your favourite collection of university level texts at the back for the older and more advanced kids to explore. You had been teaching in that schoolhouse for the last five years and in a way it had become a second home for you, if you weren’t at your own little home, then you were in the schoolhouse marking work or planning lessons for the coming days. 

“Anyone know what caused it?” 

“No. We didn’t exactly have the mind to investigate and if it wasn’t an accident it was probably just some drunk who didn’t know any better. But, we make do and Grogu,” You crouch down next to the small child, moving your skirts to do so comfortably, “will fit right in, I think, don’t you?” The little boy smiles at you and giggles, before hiding behind his father’s leg again. 

“Have any plans been made to rebuild the schoolhouse?” Sheriff Djarin it seems is very straight and to the point, his tone isn’t unkind or aggressive, but his words are clipped, short, brusque as if he’s not quite used to being more flowery or saying much. You supposed a bounty hunter didn’t typically need to say much, but you hope he’ll become more comfortable with talking, at least to you, as time goes on. 

“No...i’ve been trying to put some pressure on the mayor to get it done but...he just doesn’t seem to care all that much now there’s a temporary solution.” You say as you begin unpacking the box that he brought inside, exercise books are brought out and sorted into piles, ready for the children to write their names on the covers and start afresh. 

He frowns, brow furrowing deep, lips turned down at the thought of the schoolhouse just never being rebuilt. It’s clear to him that saloon isn’t the place for a school and it’s even clearer that you are distressed with your new working arrangement, that you miss having a building that is entirely your own and entirely dedicated to teaching young minds. 

“I’ll sort something out. Is class starting soon?”

“Yes, not...not long now.” You double check the clock realising the kids will begin arriving in less than an hour and you feel wholly unprepared for the first day of school since the schoolhouse burnt down. 

You watch him crouch in front of Grogu, hand ruffling his hair fondly, “You’re going to stay here today, get some learnin’ in ya. I’ve got things to do, but I'll be back later, promise.” You’re surprised and warmed when he puts out his pinky finger for the kid to grab, a little promise that seems to you like something more. You wonder if the boy was scared of being left again, if this was Din’s way of reassuring his new son that he wasn’t going to leave him. The little boy wraps his whole hand around Din’s pinkie not quite understanding how the promises work yet.

“Have a good day of teaching, Miss Y/N.” He nods his head at you, grabbing his hat as he walks out the saloon with a purpose. The hat is placed on his head the moment he’s out of the doors and it’s that little element of politeness that surprises you. He carries himself like a gentleman but looks like any other rough and tumble man wandering the west. But it’s his treatment of Grogu that confirms the sort of man that he is. 

I’ll sort something out. You smiled to yourself realising that perhaps the new sheriff would be the best thing to happen to this town in a while. Someone who actually got things done for once. 

“Do you want to find your seat? Maybe do some drawing before class starts, Grogu?” You ask the little boy smiling at him as he nervously shifts from foot to foot, looking back out the doors as if hoping his father would walk back in. It’s clear he hasn’t had to do this before, be separated from him and left with a stranger, but you put on your softest smile and gentlest voice and wait patiently for him to nod his head before offering him your hand. 

He takes your hand and you help him get settled into his seat, you decide to put him near the front so you can help him easily and get him settled near you. He only knows you after all, and you think being around all the kids and far away from familiarity might be too much. You give him some paper, scrap bits that you don’t need anymore and a pencil leaving him to draw while you get ready for class.

                                                    ---------------------

The school day goes...well, it’s hectic and your hair is frizzy and falling out of the updo you styled it in that morning by the end. The children are unsettled in this new environment, the older kids, those nearing adulthood frustrated by the younger kids who can’t seem to focus or be quiet. Your brain feels too large for your skull and you sigh out a goodbye to your students as they leave out the saloon doors, one or two shoving through the swinging shutters much faster than needed. 

Grogu is the quietest of your students, sweet and attentive, he doesn’t speak a word, but follows your instructions well. He is behind on his writing letters and reading, that much you know from working with him, but he’s a quick learner and applies himself with a determination you rarely see. He doesn’t always play well with others. At lunch time you’d noticed him stealing food from the other children. It continued despite giving him your own lunch knowing his father hadn’t had time to prepare him something after coming straight into town and getting to work. He doesn’t share well either, but seemed to understand when you sat him down and talked to him about it. You suppose that being away from other children and only travelling with your father figure who would share his food with you without a thought, it must be confusing. The manners that he now has to observe, the rules of society that he’s never had to worry about until now. He looks suitably admonished despite the gentle way you chose to talk about it with him, that alone makes you think he’ll likely stop stealing the children’s cookies and be more willing to share. 

“David, careful!” You call out when one of your older students nearly gets trampled underneath the sheriff’s horses’ hooves as he runs across the thoroughfare without looking. 

“Sorry, miss!” David calls back over his shoulder, still storming ahead your warning lost on him. 

You sigh heavily and rub at your temples, stress enveloping you. A tug, swift and sharp on your skirt has you looking down. Grogu has a hand fisted in the fabric, pulling to get your attention. Once he has it, his arms open, hands up towards you, opening and closing, a universal gesture to be lifted. 

It surprises you, he is...quiet and reserved. You expected time to be needed before he was comfortable with you in any respect, especially after having to tell the boy off. Instead, he lets you lift him to your hip, hands reaching for strands of your hair and twisting them, surprisingly gently between his chubby little fingers. 

You watch your students run in different directions through town, their books and lunch pails in tow. Some stop on the open green, playing games together before their parents demand them back home for dinner. The warm little body in your arms is a soothing presence and the boy almost looks like he wants to say something, but just makes a soft cooing sound instead.

“Not much of a talker are you, little one?” He almost shrugs his little shoulders before looking up at the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking spurs. The sheriff leads his horse up to you, eyes following David with a shake of his head. Clearly, just as bemused as you at his lack of common sense.

Grogu smiles and giggles happily at the sight of his father, arms reaching out for him. You pass him over to Din, trying to ignore how close you get to the man to do it. He radiates warmth and smells woodsy mixed with some sort of soap he must use. This close you can see little birthmarks dotted across his neck. 

You step back once the boy is settled in his arms and smile, soft but tired. “Sheriff, how was your first day on the job?” 

He gives you a humoured smirk, one you’re not expecting, it takes you aback slightly. He looks...charming, approachable. Little dimples at his cheeks that soften his features in a way that makes you want to step closer. With a huff, not quite a laugh, he says, “Eventful.”

“That makes two of us, sheriff.” He notices the tired creases beneath your eyes, the once unrumpled appearance now dishevelled, hair coming out of its updo and blouse and skirt wrinkled and creased. You look like you’d had a rough day and he hopes Grogu wasn’t part of the cause. He still hadn’t figured out how to discipline the kid, he always turned those big brown eyes on him and he just couldn’t tell him no. 

“Din. Call me Din.” 

“Then you should call me Y/N.” There’s a moment of silence. You stare at him, at the way his hat casts shadows over his face, at the gentle hold he has on Grogu, the open top buttons of his work shirt and the dig of suspenders into his shoulders. He stares back at you. The gentle softness of your cheek, the marks that make your skin your skin and not someone else's. 

“We’re going to start building the schoolhouse as soon as the wood shipment gets here, I sent a telegram off today to get some good lumber in.” It surprises you in the most delightful way. When you said the mayor had been dragging his heels you meant it, but you hadn’t expected this new face to come in and make a start on what the mayor had been reluctant to do. 

“We’re?”

“I’ve convinced some of the men around town to pitch in and I know a thing or two about building.” In truth he’d intimidated more than persuaded. Most of the men were lazy, and had more concern for their own vices than for helping out. But, a mixture of convincing them they’d get their saloon back and reminding them that he was now the town’s sheriff seemed to get a few of the stronger and more skilled townsfolk to agree to help. 

“You’re the sheriff. You shouldn’t be building the schoolhouse, Din. You’ve got more important things to do.” You feel bad that he’s doing this, being quite so involved, when he’s starting a new job, one that takes up most of his time. Being a sheriff is a full time job, almost 24 hours a day 7 days a week. He has people to keep in line, criminals to catch, laws to enforce, and building a schoolhouse wasn’t on his list of priorities. It’s sweet and makes your heart ache oddly, but you feel guilty for adding another thing to his plate. 

“This is important, Miss...Y/N. The kid can’t learn in a saloon forever and you can’t work here forever neither.” He can see how desperately you want your schoolhouse back and something in him wants to provide that for you, to care for you. He tells himself it’s also for the kid, that his son deserves a proper schoolhouse to learn in. That all foundlings, all little children deserved a place to learn, like he had growing up in the covert.

“At least...at least let me and the children bring food and water down once you get started. I...you’ve not even been here a whole day and you’re already doing more than anyone else ever has...Thank you, Din.”

“It’s my pleasure, meg ba'jurir” You do not understand what he calls you, but you recognise that cadence, the rhythm of the language. Can almost see the symbolic nature of the alphabet. It surprises you that he knows what you’re sure is Mando’a, having only heard one other person in your life ever speak it. Mandalorian family groups were uncommon, but where they were they seemed to keep people in order, to value community. It made sense that he would take on the job of sheriff, adopt a child not of his own blood, if that were the case. 

You bite your tongue and don’t ask, you don’t know him and it is too personal to ask about his upbringing, culture or heritage. Perhaps, after you know him better you can ask, but you can almost hear your headmistress at school reminding you about manners and decorum even in a little mining town. 

“He didn’t...he didn’t cause any trouble today did he? He’s not used to being around others or...we’ve been on the road for a long time now.” He looks down at the little boy sitting at his hip, who’s playing with the metal star on his shirt. He knew that Grogu could be difficult, sweet, adorable, hard to say no to, but undisciplined and not used to the rules that people usually abided by. 

“I...I did have to have a word with him today…” You can already tell Din’s disappointed. He clearly loves the boy, but part of loving a child is wanting better for them and getting in trouble isn’t part of that. 

Din sighs heavily before catching the boy’s eye, “Ad’ika…”The boy clearly knows what’s going on and hides his face in his father’s shirt, suitably embarrassed about his behaviour. You think that’s enough to probably deter him from stealing from other kids in the future. You also think you might bake him some treats and use them as an incentive to work hard. You suspect bribery would work well with Grogu. 

“He paid attention beautifully and he’s already doing so well with learning his letters, but he’s...he’s quite…” You try to think of the best way to say that the boy just can’t resist taking other children’s food. 

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Y/N. You can tell me.” You look Din in the eyes, deep brown meeting your own and sigh out before speaking.

“He likes to steal the other children’s food. I gave him my lunch and he still tried to steal Charlie’s cookies and Mary Beth’s macarons. I know he’s probably used to food being a thing he can just have since you’ve been travelling as a family unit…”

“Osik... I forgot to give him lunch. I am a terrible father…” Din looks at his feet, free hand rubbing over the scruff on his jaw. You feel the instant need to reassure him. 

“You’re not a terrible father. You just came into town this morning, immediately took on a job, and instantly went to work. You’re not a terrible father.” You hesitate, but reach forward anyway, a hand on his arm giving a quick reassuring squeeze. 

“Vor entye, Y/N. Thank you. Have you eaten?” 

“Oh…” You hadn’t really thought about it, that you’d given your food to Grogu to stop him going hungry and that you’d spent all day teaching with little more than the porridge you’d made yourself that morning to keep you going.

“Don’t even think about lying to the sheriff.” You did in fact consider lying to him, but the look he gave you reminded you of an overbearing mother hen who wouldn’t let you get away with it. Combined with the fact he was indeed the new sheriff, you felt it best to stick to the truth for now. 

“No...I haven’t.” You admit, feeling suitably admonished by him and a little guilty for even considering lying about. 

Din adjusts Grogu on his hip and nods his head behind him towards the street, “Come, I’ll buy you dinner at the café.”

“You don’t have to, Din. I can make dinner at home.” You think back to the soup you were going to make that night, and even though you haven’t the energy in truth to make dinner, you can’t ask him to buy you it. It is too much and unnecessary. Any good teacher would have made sure their students were fed. 

“You kept my ad fed in place of yourself. I’m buying you dinner.” His voice left no room for argument and so you found yourself following after him across the street towards Reeva’s Café. 

                                                   ---------------------

Din’s presence in town becomes apparent very quickly. He does not allow the men to wander drunk through the streets, start fights, or harass women. He does not suffer law breakers or those who cause the peace to break. He is swift, effective, and there isn’t a member of town who doesn’t respect his authority even if some don’t particularly like having to listen to him. 

For you it is a refreshing change. You don’t worry about the children wandering around town in the evenings or about walking out of your home at night. You don’t worry about your meager belongings being stolen or a fight breaking out in the saloon on an evening and ruining the few bits you have for the school. 

He is quiet and polite, not much of a talker, but everything he does shows a man of honour and good morals. He is sweet with the children as well. 

It had become common place for him, while waiting for the lumber to begin the schoolhouse, to come into the saloon while you were teaching. He said it was because the day time left little for him to do as sheriff, but you think he just enjoys helping with the children. They make him smile. A real smile. 

Sometimes he just sits with his son on his lap and helps him with his letters, other times he wanders between tables helping those who need it or using his presence to quiet the children after an exciting lunch break. Reminding them to respect you, their teacher, and listen.

Your favourite, and the childrens’ favourite times were when he’d sit down and tell them stories of his travels. For a man who didn’t speak much, Din Djarin was a natural born storyteller. 

That’s how you found yourself taking a step back, sitting on one of the saloon bar stools off to the side as Din took your place at the front of the class. He had an ability with the little ones that amazed you, none were ever scared of him despite his height, posturing or the guns holstered at his side and slung over his back. He always managed to make them smile and laugh, always got their curiosity going and inspired them equally. He made it a point whenever he talked to your class to share stories of both men and women he’d met who’d done amazing things, you could tell he was trying to get the girls in your class to see they could be more than housewives or washerwomen and you appreciated it. 

“So there I am standing toe to toe with the biggest grizzly you’ve ever seen…” He gestures with his hands, standing at the front, arms out front to show just how large this grizzly bear was. His voice took on a different, more dramatic quality then normal. Grogu clapped his hands from his seat on your lap, the little boy having grown increasingly comfortable around you.

“Now this grizzly has to be 8ft standin’, and he’s the angriest bear you’ve ever seen and i’m sure that’s the end of me. I’m about to become a grizzly bear’s dinner, Sheriff Djarin stew!” You laugh along with the kids at the prospect of Din becoming stew for a grizzly bear, you’re never sure how much is fiction or truth in his stories, although part of you wouldn’t be surprised if they were all completely true. He was...he always seemed larger than life despite being so quiet. Like some sort of figure out of a western story.

“When out of nowhere, charging between me and this mean grizzly, comes the largest bull moose I've ever seen…” 

“What’d you do?” Mary Beth pipes up, big blue eyes open wide. 

“Well, I got the he-” He stops himself looking at you, you raise an eyebrow reminding him that cussing around the children would not do well for him, “-out of there as quickly as I could! One thing you should never do is stay around to fight a grizzly, never ends well to go toe to toe with one. That moose was being kind and giving me a chance to get away.” It amuses you that he always manages to twist a moral into the story. This time about kindness and helping those weaker than yourself, along with a healthy dose of not getting into situations with angry grizzly bears of course. 

“Well, I think it’s time I let Miss Y/N, get on with her mathematics lesson.” Groans and grumbling rises up from your students as you place Grogu in his seat and begin making your way to the front. You watch Din frown at them, hands on his belt, leaning into one hip more than the other. He is the perfect picture of a disappointed father. Lips twisting downwards, pulling on his moustache. 

“Hey, now! Miss Y/N always makes your lessons fun so don’t you start giving her trouble or else i’ll have to stop coming in for story time.” It’s a threat that promptly has them settling quietly in their chairs and getting their books and pencils out.

You rest a gentle hand on his arm when you reach him, quietly telling him thank you. It’s heavy with meaning. Thank you for being there for the children. Thank you for providing them with stories. Thank you for always settling them and reminding them to respect me. Thank you for thinking about the schoolhouse. Thank you for settling the town and keeping the peace. 

He just nods at you with the smallest hint of a smile, enough to make you feel the tiniest bit flustered as you watch him walk to the chair where he’d left his hat, holsters, and lasso. 

“Say goodbye to the sheriff, children.” You tell them as all of you watch him make his way to the doors. He stops before them and tips his hat at you all with a smile, but the moment he’s out the doors it drops and in his place is the hard sheriff who won’t stand for trouble. 

                                                   ---------------------

Once the lumber comes in and the plans have been drawn up and approved by yourself, at Din’s insistence, the work begins. The schoolhouse design had been run past you because Din didn’t want to miss anything that was needed or that would help you teach. He had told you not to worry about size, scale or cost, that the community was pitching in and that the mayor had found a fund tucked away somewhere for the school. The fund miraculously appeared after Din had a long meaningful chat with him.

He wouldn’t tell you that he’d made threats against the mayor about digging up some of his dirty laundry, but he had. The mayor had a lot of skeletons in his closet and also a nice stack of credits he was sitting on in his own personal mayoral vault. The fact that the mayor had been so reluctant to rebuild the schoolhouse when he easily could have almost made Din see red, but he didn’t think it would look good if he beat the man to the curb as sheriff. He was supposed to be upstanding and law abiding, if he wasn’t why would any of the townsfolk be? 

A few days into the project you decided it was time you made good on your promise to come to the site during lunch time with the children to bring water and some food. You and the children collect pails of water and the baked goods you’d made the night before, trudging through the streets. You held Grogu on one hip, the small child the slowest of his classmates, and carried a heavy pail of water in the other, so heavy your shoulder slumped down on that side to accommodate the weight. 

The children were happy to help, after all, many of their fathers and older brothers were working on the school site and it was a chance in the school day to see people they cared about. You were also sure they wanted to ask the sheriff a multitude of questions and beg for a story, but you’d reminded them that they weren’t there to get in the way or interrupt the work, just to offer food and water.

You’d reluctantly admitted to Reeva that you found the sheriff attractive, after the older woman badgered you day in and day out about the time you spent with him. You could admit he was handsome. His eyes were deep brown and spoke more words then he often did. He had both a look that could intimidate and also soften into something warm and safe. The beard and moustache he sported made him look ruggedly handsome and his shoulders were broad and wide. He looked like he’d stepped out of a story book or from an illustrated newspaper short story. Rugged but clean, dangerous but kind. 

You had to admit though that this was your favourite look on him. As you came upon the building site he was busy sawing a plank of pine in two. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong forearms and thick wrists. His suspenders had been flung off his shoulders, resting at sides no longer covering the strong back that was tensed as he worked. The top few buttons of his shirt had come undone, almost indecently so to show a pronounced collar bone, strong neck, and dark chest hair and the brown hair on his head had begun to curl from the sweat he was working up. It shouldn’t have been attractive. He should have looked like any other man working up a sweat, you shouldn’t have wanted to wipe his brow and brush your fingers through the curls of his hair. But you did. 

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself you look down at the little boy at your hip, “Should we go say hello to your father?” 

“Papa!” He clapped his hands at you in confirmation. You’d slowly learnt that papa was one of the only words he said, you weren’t sure if he chose not to speak or simply couldn’t. But, given his increasing aptitude with writing his letters, you thought it likely that he simply chose not to speak. 

The call instantly has Din’s head popping up from his work like a startled deer and you watch as his eyes roam across the children until he catches sight of his son at your hip. The smile that lights his face is so bright that it’s almost blinding, there is a longing you feel whenever you see his happiness to see Grogu. Some deep part of you that desires that sort of family bond. He loves his son so deeply, it doesn’t matter to him that their blood isn’t the same and part of you wants desperately to be part of that love and happiness. 

“Children, hand out the food and water, will you? But be careful!” You remind them as they run towards familiar faces, it is still a building site after all, and the last thing you need is a child getting hurt in any way. 

Din finishes sawing the plank before striding over to you, hand pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. You look...radiant. The summer sun shining over you, causing your skin to glow, your hair to shine. Your smile is as soft as your eyes and you're gentle in the way you hold his son to your hip, like he belonged there. Like the two of you belonged together. Din can admit that he enjoys your company more than he probably should, he can even admit that a part of him deeply desires you, wants you to join his family unit, become part of his aliit. You’re tender and kind to all the children you teach, your children as you often call them, and you’re incredibly kind to Grogu who you treat with more understanding than most school teachers ever would. You keep order in your classroom through kindness and mutual respect, not through fear or punishment. The maternal shine to you draws him to you in a way that, had he not been Mandalorian, he might be ashamed of. But, family is everything to him, Grogu is everything to him and if he is to put down roots here, he can’t help but consider putting down roots with you.

It’s a silly thought though, you’ve not known each other long and he isn’t well to do or gentlemanly. You’re far better educated than him, kinder than him, and it is a pipe dream that he doubts will ever come to fruition. It doesn’t help that he struggles at times to even talk to you, let alone make his feelings known. 

“Miss me, Ad’ika?” He calls to the little boy, carefully pulling him from your arms when you offer him. If you allow yourself to, you can almost imagine he’s taking your own child from you, that the two of you have formed some sort of family. But, you are just his son’s teacher and he is just the sheriff of your small town. 

The boy babbles at him, not real words, nonsense, or attempts at words that don’t translate, but you can see that improving. Can almost imagine what settling down here can do for the boy, give him a chance to learn, grow, make friends, and find some stability and safety. 

“He’s been itching to come over all day, they all have. I was struggling to get them to focus on their history lesson.” You had 15 children all desperate to get out of the saloon and visit their fathers for lunch. It had been a...very difficult lesson to say the least and you still felt a little frazzled. 

“History?” The boy tugs at his father’s hair and you watch him wince as he speaks, pulling little chubby hands from brown curls. 

“The fall of the empire and the rise of the republic. Not the most riveting subject for them I'm sure, they much prefer when I tell them about different societies rather than politics.” You want to say like Mandalore and the Mandalorians because you want to draw him in, desperate to have more of his time even when he’s already doing so much for you. You enjoy the odd hour here and there when he takes over your class and becomes the teacher, where you can just sit and listen, learn yourself. 

“Mandalorians believe that our history is our future. We learn it as soon as we can walk.”

“So it is Mando’a you’ve been speaking?” It warms you to see him open up to you like this. He is a private man, quiet, and insular. While he can yell with the best, and demand attention, can intimidate and even persuade, it’s all part of his job. The face he puts on as sheriff. He is quiet about himself, sharing little and not so often. You revel in the trust placed in you wherever he tells you a little something more about himself. 

“You noticed?” Most people don’t even know Mando’a exists, let alone recognise that the words he slips into his speech are such. He finds they slip out more around you, than with others. He’s comfortable with, he is happy to share himself, his culture with you and it...it is a startling discovery about himself. He has been insular and closed off for longer than he would like to admit. 

“I can’t speak it and I..I don’t know it well, but, I recognise the cadence. I grew up in Naboo and there was a Mandalorian there, she used to speak it when I would sit and practice my letters with her.” Atin’a Caivass was a kind woman to you even if she could be hard. She had been one of your teachers, always pushing you harder, to do better. Yet, it had never felt frustrating or like a chore, the Mandalorian had always made it a desire to impress her, but also to prove to yourself that you could. She had always been kind to you and the other children, gentle but firm, like you were one of her own. You saw similarities with how Din treated the children. He was kind and gentle, but never overlooked an opportunity to firmly correct their behaviour or mistakes. A perfect balance. Not too soft and not too harsh. 

“You never learnt?”

“She was very protective of it and I...I was always too afraid to ask.” You confess. You had always been fascinated with it, like any young child when faced with a new language, but you had always believed it something sacred, and had worried that you would offend her if you asked to learn. “Ad’ika? What does it mean?”

He can’t help but laugh at your pronunciation and sounds it out for you, “Ah-Dee-Kah, it means little one.” 

“Ah-dee-kuh?” You are even more beautiful, he thinks when you butcher his language, trying so hard to get it right that your eyebrows scrunch together and your eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Ah-Dee-Kah” The little one squirms in his arms and he places him on the ground, only to watch him plunk himself on his bottom and play with the dirt. He had always had a fascination with dirt and rocks, more so than any of the toys he had actually brought or made him. 

“Ah-Dee-Kah”

“Perfect.” You smile blindingly at his praise and he wonders if he can forgo his job as sheriff and simply teach you Mando’a every minute of every day. “You can always ask. If you want to learn. It’s nice to hear it from another person’s lips, not just mine.”

“I would like that very much...maybe when you’re less busy? You’re rather booked up at the moment, what with being sheriff, storytime for the children, and building a schoolhouse. You’re a busy man, Din Djarin.”

“I like to keep my hands busy.” You look down at your feet before looking back up at him, unsure how to respond to what you were sure was meant as a perfectly innocent comment. Din almost swears, osik, once he realises how that sounds, lifting hand to the back of his neck to rub it. 

The silence that you fall into isn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but feels almost solid, like a physical thing and not just the quiet that comes with two people not talking for a moment. There’s a tension there that is not wholly unpleasant but hard to describe or pin down. 

Seeming to remember the pail of water you’re carrying you place it in front of him, “Water, so you can clean off or if you’re thirsty. There’s some pastries somewhere as well, to keep you all fed...Can’t have you keeling over on us or else we’d never get our schoolhouse.” 

You take a step back and cast your gaze around, making note of where each of your 15 kids are. You’re caught watching Jerome splash water on Annie, about to go and tell him off when you hear splashing much closer to you. 

You thought he couldn’t excite you more than he already had. Thought that Din Djarin couldn’t possibly tempt you more, cause your well-mannered sensibilities to crumble further. You were utterly, terribly, ridiculously wrong. 

There’s something to be said about the man pouring half a pail of water over his head to rub away the sweat and dirt from a hard day working in the summer sun. He flicks his head back, long neck outstretched as water droplets fall like mirror glass over his tanned skin. His hair sticks to his skin, kissing it in a way you realise you desperately want to and his shirt clings to broad shoulders with the familiarity of a lover. 

You spin back around away from him flustered, determined not to look as you march towards Jerome. You decide in that moment that perhaps it’s best not to bring pails of water at lunch time. You might just not survive to see the school built. 

                                                   ---------------------

For the next two months your routine features lunch time trips with the children to bring water and sometimes food to the men building the schoolhouse, and the odd afternoon story time hour when Din feels confident enough to leave the others to continue working without his guidance. Each day the schoolhouse comes together more and more and each day you fall a little bit more in...in whatever these feelings for the sheriff were. 

You also have the startling realisation that Grogu has wormed his little way into your heart in a way that none of your other students have. You have a soft spot for the little boy, especially as he becomes more vocal, begins to say more little words, including the delightful name ‘Miss Y/N’. 

Din is a temptation in himself, each time he teaches you another word or phrase in Mando’a and his lips wrap around syllables or every time he works hard to build the schoolhouse muscles pulling taut underneath the weight of wood. He tempts you in a way that no one ever has and you can’t quite explain what it is about this man that makes you desire to be in his presence, to kiss him, to hold him, to be close to him both physically and emotionally. You want to know everything about him, to understand him better than you understand yourself. 

In some ways it is a relief when the schoolhouse is finished and in other ways it feels like a loss. Part of your routine, part of the day where you always see Din was no longer needed or necessary.

When you bring the children over at lunch time, it’s to show them the finished building, the one they’ll be in come Monday morning once you have the time to move all the books and other odds and ends into it. They’re all excited as are you, to see it...it strikes you in the heart so badly that you can’t move your feet, can only stare at the building with tears in your eyes. 

It’s beautiful. Not large, but larger than the old one. Freshly painted white, with a school bell hanging out front. It strikes you that this isn’t just a schoolhouse, but it’s your schoolhouse. Din had been adamant about building it for you. 

“Children, why don’t you go inside and take a look? You’ll be here on Monday!” You wave them all off as they run ahead and up the wooden steps, throwing the door open none too gently. “Careful! We only just got it!” You call out and receive a series of sorries back. 

“Shall we go find your buir?” You look down at Grogu, who’s hand is holding the heavy fabric of your skirt. He smiles up at you and nods his head with a quick little ‘papa’ that has your heart warming. 

You hear him before you see him, “Now don’t go breaking the tables when we’ve only just put them together, girls!” Already laying down the law to 3 of your children as you enter the schoolhouse. They had seemingly been swinging on tables in a most ill-mannered fashion that has you putting on your teacher-face and raising an eyebrow at them from behind Din. They promptly stop and return their feet to the floor with an abashed look.

“Sorry, Sheriff. Sorry Miss.” They call to you both before scurrying away in hopes of avoiding punishment, leaving you, Din and Grogu alone in the main room for the building. You let it go. It isn’t an issue, they need to learn to respect things, and not damage them, but that does not have to come at the cost of punishment when a quick look and a reminder does enough. 

Din spins at them calling out to you, faster than he seems to have expected, looking decidedly dizzy for a second before the mask of sheriff falls right back into place. 

“Y/N, how do you like it?” He opens his arms wide and gestures to the main room of the schoolhouse. A large blackboard already nailed to the wall at the back, rows of tables and chairs set up so every child could see you. A desk at the front for your things. It is sweet and fits your needs infinitely better than a saloon ever would. You even note the bookcases along the walls, enough space to place many of your books for the children to have easy access for when they wish to learn something more than you could teach them. 

“It’s...it’s wonderful, Din. It’s beautiful. I...I can’t thank you enough...I...I’m a little lost for words.” You can feel the happy tears starting to pool in your eyes again, the gratitude making you a little bit emotional. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”

“You...you don’t need to repay me, Mesh’la. This...you and the children deserve a school, a place to teach and learn. You don’t have to thank me or repay me for doing what the damn mayor should have done in the first place.”

You nearly don’t do it. Nearly let that fear that wells up inside you and the proper manners, the belief that you were about to be far too forward than was ladylike, stop you. But, you think back to his kindness, his gentle nature, the calm and order he’s brought to town. The son of his that you have a large soft spot for. The handsomeness of his features, the sharpness of his profile. The gentle hand he always places on your back as he helps escort you somewhere. The respect he shows you at every turn and his willingness to share his culture and upbringing with you. You think of all the things that make up the Din Djarin you know and you think of what he has come to mean to you. 

With a silent prayer and an apology to your late headmistress for being more forward than is ladylike, you push yourself forward and into him. Lips soft and chaste lifting to meet his, only briefly. You do not push for more than a second of contact, but it is enough, you hope, to get the thought and intent across. That he is someone you would like to get to know more, that he is someone you could happily be courted by, even marry one day.  

He doesn’t even have time to blink, it happens so fast. One minute you are standing a few steps away from him thanking him, the next your lips are pressed to his in the shortest sweetest kiss he’s ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. It takes another second for him to realise what’s happened before he’s reaching a hand out to cup the nape of your neck and drag your lips back to his for a significantly more substantial kiss that leaves you a little breathless. 

When you pull away from each other you don’t go far. Din presses his forehead to yours, hawkish nose pressing into your cheek, a soft touch that grounds you with his presence. The hand at your neck, rubs a soothing thumb across your skin. Your own have chosen to grasp at the suspenders over his shoulders, to keep in close proximity. 

“I’d very much like to court you, Miss Y/N.”

“I think i’d like that, sheriff.” 

                                                   ---------------------

Mando’a Translations

 Meg Ba'jurir - roughest way I could get to someone who educates or a teacher with meg being who and ba’jurir being educate

Osik - Shit

Vor entye - Thank You

Ad - son

Ad’ika - Little one, term of endearment for small children

Buir - Father also Mother basically parent. 

Mesh’la - Beautiful

Aliit - Family (Clan)

                                                   --------------------- 

Taglist for this fic: 

@lex-ham​

[musekicker]

If you'd like a prompt, how about Otto trying to get Gibson more into video games. Doesn't really matter what game they're playing, you can choose something you like, they're just having a good time with it.

It's not mentioned in the drabble but the game they end up playing is one hundred percent Shuggazoom version of Stardew Valley.

I also think if Otto and Gibson were to have their characters date characters within that game, both of them would like Maru. Or Otto might like Leah or Shane too I feel. But that's just my thoughts.

One habit that Otto had picked up since Chiro had come along was video games. Maybe he was not as much into them as Chiro was, but he was finding them enjoyable enough that he wanted to share this habit with Gibson.

That was a challenge.

It wasn't even that Gibson entirely disliked video games. Put him in front of a more puzzle based game and he was happy with the game for awhile. Otto's genre of gaming was more exploration and crafting with a cozy vibe. There were some games that did have both of those things contained in the game. But normally either the game would be too short of the puzzles too easy for Gibson

So finding a video game that they both would enjoy took a bit of time and effort. Otto even took the time to ask Chiro for

"I think I finally found the right game." Otto said. "It's going to sound odd though."

"How so?" Gibson asked.

"Well, the main part of the game is that it's a farming game." Otto said.

Gibson must had been making some expression without he himself being aware he was doing it. Because Otto spoke quickly after that.

"I know, I know. Sounds weird. But trust me when I say not only does it match both our gaming styles, but it is also really fun." Otto said.

Gibson wasn't entirely convinced. But Otto had worked so hard to look for a game for the both of them. Gibson felt the least he could do was try it out.

"I'll take your word for it." Gibson said. "Let's give it a try."

Booting up the game, Gibson was hoping that this would indeed be the game that he and Otto could both play. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his loved one. Just looking at Otto's clearly excited expression made Gibson determined to give this game the best try he could.

It turned out that Gibson did not need to worry about if he would enjoy the game or not. As odd as the concept of the game had sounded to him, it quickly became clear to him how one could have fun with this game. And that it indeed worked for the both of them.

Otto spent a lot of time gathering crafting resources, exploring the mines, and taking care of the farm animals.

Gibson of course was figuring how what crops formations, types, and what daily routine in the game would garner the most worth. They were soon earning a ton of in game gold.

By the end of the second month they had a real good system down that worked so well because they were doing it together.

Otto had been right that this game was the perfect game for the both of them. They would play it when there was some down time and they had taken care of important things around the super robot, such as training. It turned out to be a nice way to unwind too.

Time to time other team members would come in to the watch the gaming sessions for their farm building and care. Enough times that the others sometimes had questions.

"Isn't there a whole dating thing in this game too?" Sprx asked one time.

"Yes. There is. But me and Otto have agreed that we aren't interested in going after any romance candidates in our shared file." Gibson said. "Just feels weird to have my character get married to someone else when playing with my boyfriend." Gibson said.

Otto smiled.

"I guess now is the time to tell you there are many sequels and that some of those sequels allow players to get married in game." Otto said.

"Well then, I suppose we will have to pick up that sequels." Gibson said.

As soon as they could unlock getting married in the next game, that is exactly what their characters did.

[hopeshoodie]

I feel so bad letting this sit for so long, but better late than never I suppose! Thank you to literally everyone who tagged me in this. Literally every time I see these posts it makes me grin like an absolute dope at my phone. This is one of the best fandoms I’ve ever been in. I know I joke that I’m just sitting in my corner making garbage, so thank yall for making the room my corner is in so lovely.

So here’s a shoutout to the people who made my 2020 better. If I’m following you (from my main @hyperspacial because despite being on tumblr for nearly a decade I still hardly know how to run a sideblog) I 100% like you. I’m sorry if I forget to tag people :( Also this is about to be a long ass post- don’t feel obligated to reply or like or whatever just because you’re tagged :P

@garyandhisnan. I just…. I adore you. Highkey would walk to the ends of the earth if you asked. Your writing, your posts, everything is top notch (and you’re an awesome person to boot which like… shouldn’t be allowed). Thank you for letting me rant about American late-stage capitalism and all the other nonsense I flood your inbox with. If yall aren’t following them, go do it now.

@deuchess  

@ariendiel Why you would want to collaborate with me, ME, of all people? Still astounds me. I pinkie promise we’re gonna do it though, and it’s gonna be so good. I’m so excited. But seriously, your fics are some of the only ones that I can keep coming back to. Your writing is *chefs kiss* and your edits/moodboards are literally so pretty. I love your blog and I cherish you, you slut cheat.

@kiki-the-creator same brain saME BRAIN SAME BRAIN how do we have the exact same brain!? Your fics literally are the best thing this fandom has produced- I come up with these half baked concepts, you make them actually good, then I play dollhouse with them over and over again in my head forever :3 That Erikah fic? Literally every Marisol fic you write?? I love them. Also you’re highkey so funny and ugh. Te adoro.

@bubblelaureno you’re literally too good for me. For real. I’m sorry I’m so shitty about keeping up to date with fics and edits, you deserve way more than my shitty memory and my 2 second long attention span. Your blog is literally a beacon of positivity and it’s absurd how much I admire your drive and your analytical way of thinking. This fandom is so lucky to have you.

@codename-mango controversial yet brave opinion- your blog is the best LITG blog on tumblr. Your headcanons, your jokes, your route overviews? All immaculate. Even your reblogs are the best of what everyone else is posting. You’re the only reason I have notes, and I appreciate you sm.

@oneflewoverthecuckoos my comment to mango is controversial only because if not her, then your LITG sideblog for sure. For a ‘Lucas’ blog, the diversity of content and LIs you talk about is refreshing. I fucking love seeing people talk about non-LI characters.

@inthenewblood thank you for letting me bitch about the reddit oml it’s needed. Also having someone to be salty with? A new but not unwelcome experience lmfao

@noahssidechick you are literally so sweet oml I treasure our chats and the pictures of your dogs. You bring such a chill and earnest vibe to the fandom and ugh, I’m so glad to have you.

@fuseboxmusebox I feel like you’re so consistent in the fandom, like you were here when I first joined and you’ll be here after I inevitably lose interest and leave. Your reblogs are top notch, the takes are even topper notch, and it wouldn’t be a ‘litg blogs that made me happy’ list without you.

@crvsh-culture I will never not sing your praises. I love your blog, I love you perspective, I love your vibe. I consider you a friend even though we’ve talked like… once.

@radiantdae your artbreeder edits were the first thing in the fandom that left me genuinely astounded. Like holy shit they were so good. Kassam??? That was a REAL MAN. Obviously the stuff you post now is really good too and your blog is excellent. But tbh when I think of the LITG fandom, the first think I think of is your artbreeder pictures. Also your ‘filipino words that make me think of the islanders’. I still think of that often. 

@therealityofthematteris seeing you in my notes makes me smile every time. That’s basically all, just needed to say it lmao. Also if anyone has almost convinced me to start playing TWC, it’s you and Seliné.

@bellarxse my dash would be dry af without you. Same with TWC- I’m so tempted to play because of your posts (I have it downloaded on my phone but like…. I haven’t finished a single route in Arcana and starting a new thing is overwhelming). But also your prompts are one of the few things that makes me want to write lmfao.

@lahelakoh I feel like I’ve said it before but your posts SEND me oml. The tiktok references, the chaotic energy. Both the taste and the flavour is immaculate.

@kiwi-tai we haven’t talked that much but oml I love your content so much 15/10

@confused-inalltheways-human you’re literally so cool and I think about that Harry fic all the time. Am I ever gonna get around to writing it? Probably not. But it was such a good idea. Also thank you for lighting up my notification.

@oceanatydes you come here, you post literally spectacular content, and then you peace out like bruh I wish I had your mind. I adore your edits, but my favorites are your posts/headcanons.

@voile-de-lune your aesthetic is everything I aspire to be and your headcanons/edits are such a refreshing take on characters that we’ve all gotten so stale with. I still live for that Rahim moodboard you made. Also your headcanons are so fantastic.

@lasswithumor this fandom desperately needs more Carl stans, thank you for doing the lords work. Also I highkey stalk your blog on a regular basis jsjsjsjsjsjs every chat we’ve had has been lovely and ugh, you’re just lovely

@bobbysapron your vibes are literally so immaculate. I know it’s been awhile since we chatted but I highkey adore your content and ugh. You’re such a cool person.

@beebips I feel like you’ve vanished off my dash, but you made up for it with that 3rd chapter of The Other Side of Seventh Ave made up for it.

@nerdferatum I don’t think I’ve ever breathed a word in your direction but oml you’re so sweet and supportive and every time your posts cross my dash I *pleading emoji*

@mrsgaryrennell I’m still agog that we’re mutuals because like… You are so talented. It took me waaaayyy too long to get into Blue and Hazel but now that I have… It’s highkey better than the actual season skskskskss

@kingkassam Like the above, you are waaaayyy too cool to be following me sksksksk. I’ve still got a few edits you had ideas for in the pipeline, and highkey the Kassam icons you requested are my favorite edits I’ve ever made. I live for someone else playing Matchmaker.

@hermitclaw  hello?????? You’re so funny what the FUCK are you doing following me. Ik you don’t post that much anymore, but every LITG you grace us with is a knockout. It feels unreal when you reblog my stuff. Basically the same to @mchamster. Like you’re both so funny and have been in the fandom for so long that it fully feels like royalty whenever yall interact with me.

@ravenadottir I am fully unworthy to even mention your name but oml. Your guides are the only thing that help me retain information about the season, and your recent outfit edits? Oh my god they’re so good. Hope’s especially, with the brightly colored swimsuit, left me absolutely speechless. You’re just above everything in the fandom and I admire that so much. Plus you really don’t have to flex that hard in your fics, and yet-

@smaiihands saving the best for last because you are one of the single most talented people in this fandom. Your art is the strongest life support for the fandom and like I know we haven’t talked in awhile but you’re also such a dope person. So.

And a big shoutout to all the people I follow who I don’t talk to but have nothing but good vibes. I appreciate yall way more than I can articulate: @richhdesire @needsomesorrel @ficticiouspastry @cranesandshipyards @litg-ish @princesslove19060 @fictitiouspastery​  @icedcoffee-please @demons-dogs-and-puns @sparklydinosaurr @mountainmanxoxo  @diamondsdiary @bucket-bill@another-lottie-simp @bobbys-darling @cyn-onlyyou @mikcove @officialpapa-johns @Amaxn @dxncingthroughlife @myfictionalobsessions  @screw-u-vaanu @kittidot @chichiguitarist123 @myfictionalobsessions @Azibear @amelia-w @lilithlibrxa @litghoe @priyas-tiddies @daisybarks @ajs-wife

At this point this post is just a directory of the LITG fandom lmfao but genuinely. Thank every single one of you. 2020 was hard as shit, but I’ve been hyperfixated on LITG for like a year and I treasure your content sm.

[heliopauseentertainments]

1, 3, 9, 12, 14, and 23? for the ask game? :3

fanfic end of the year asks

Due to length, this one is going under a cut.

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

I was gonna go with Reforged again. This project has given me so much serotonin, but it's not finished, so for a finished one, I think I'm actually going to go with The Storm, a prompt I pulled for MegOp Week 2021. I banged that out in one day in a single sitting, with no sense of self-preservation. Also I really like how it turned out.

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

Hard to pick because I've tossed out so much stuff this year. Uh, I'm going to go with this from The Unlucky Marriage of Drift & Ratchet for a scene (contains alcohol use):

"Rodimus."

Silence.

Of course, Megatron was being ignored. That was to be expected whenever he had something to say that his co-captain didn’t want to hear. He sighed, approaching the bar and placing his left hand on Rodimus’ back, something he hoped would be a comforting gesture. Being a source of solace was… not his strong suit, he knew, but it didn’t seem right to leave his friend here like this.

"Rodimus, this is hardly becoming behavior for a captain." Especially at the wedding of said captain’s own best friend. It wouldn't do to have the speedster slumped over the bar of the wedding venue, overcharged like a sailor on shore leave.

The mech slowly, reluctantly turned his head to the side, looking at his co-captain with dim optics over the top of his arm, the engex lagging his responses.

“Megs, what if… I made the wrong decision?”

He could think of several potential wrong decisions that Rodimus might have made off the top of his head, but now was probably not the time to rub that sort of thing in. Best be generous.

“When?”

“In deciding to become amica endurae with Drift.”

“Hm.” That sort of wrong decision.

Megatron couldn’t and shouldn’t help with that. Nor did he particularly want to.

He’d heard that story before, not from Rodimus, but throughout his life. The difficult decision of whether to be formally recognized as either friends or lovers, but not usually both. An unnecessary distinction, in his humble opinion, a needless shackle to define the indescribable.

Then, of course, someone chose to commit to one label or the other, perhaps, incorrectly. Now, as a result, Megatron had to bear witness to a very specific variety of regret.

Regardless, he still had an inebriated co-captain to peel off of the bar. He took his hand from Rodimus’ back before cracking the knuckles of both hands. They could talk about this later if Rodimus wanted to, even if just to vent. It was the least Megatron owed him.

A few crew members had already come in to start taking their seats for the event. Rewind was surely already recording for posterity. Oh well. There was no way to not make a scene, so he could only hope that Rodimus was too inebriated to kick up much of a fuss.

Planting his feet squarely behind the barstool, the much larger mech wrapped his arms around Rodimus’ middle before hoisting the limp, whining speedster into the air.

“At least sit in the back and pretend to hold yourself upright.”

And this from The Hollow Man for a line:

After years of dormancy, Ultra Magnus was once again trying to reassert control over his desecrated corpse.

9. longest wip of the year

At almost 105k words so far, Reforged objectively wins this one.

12. favorite character to write about this year

Ooo, the usual answer would be Megatron, but actually I think Prowl is my favorite this year. I had never written him before and then this year I did a ton of Prowl content. He's so fun to explore.

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

I'm going to go with The Hollow Man on this one. My spouse has a favorite headcanon regarding the armor being haunted and so I'd wanted to do something with it for awhile. I just hadn't gotten around to it until I saw that some other folks were also interested in the concept.

Also I was a little worried since I've never explicitly written horror/scary things before, but I've always wanted to try.

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

I wanted to write some TaraProwl for Prowl Exes Week but I didn't have time. Family Ties was the closest I got and even then that focused on Springer and Prowl.

[cpd5021]

Lines

Based on some prompts:

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it”  

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!”

 Set in season 8 

        Lines. A concept Hailey was struggling to grasp in multiple areas of her life. Moral lines. Ethical lines. Personal lines. Friendship lines. They all seemed to be blurring together. Voight had sent her to New York because the lines in the FBI were very clear. And he had been right. The lines in New York were laid out in front of you, shining as bright as the lights in Time Square. Hailey could put on a good show, she could stay well within the lines if she wanted too. The problem was, she didn’t. The lines at work, the moral and ethical ones, those were easier to maintain. Especially with the threat of being fired lingering over your head. Hailey had been back from New York for a few weeks now. Her higher ups while she was there had sent Voight an outstanding report, told him she had passed with flying colors and that they would love to have her back any time. They had even proposed a job offer to her the day before she left. She had scoffed at it then, but now, as she sat on a bar stool in Molly’s with her head swirling, the idea didn’t seem so bad.

          The entire time she was in New York, she had been counting the seconds until she was back home in Chicago. Back with her unit, back in her condo, back with Jay....The latter of that list was proving to be an issue. Hailey hadn’t really been surprised when it was Jay who picked her up from the airport when she returned, or when it was Jay who picked her up the next morning for work, coffee and a bagel in hand. It wasn’t surprising when the first thing Jay had wanted to do after they finished her first shift back was to meet for some beers and do ‘their thing’. Hailey had wanted that too, if she was being honest. Talking over the phone, or even face-timing, just wasn’t the same as being in his presence. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that made being with Jay so...special. But then the little voice in her head reminded her that it was because she loved him. She loved Jay. She had known that all along she thought, although it wasn’t something she had really faced until the moment Vanessa said it point blank in the waiting room after he had been shot. Of course she loved him, he was her partner. Those are the words she had told Vanessa, and they were the truth. She loved Jay, as a partner, they had grown extremely close over their years of working together and they just flowed so easily together. Vanessa’s statement had alluded to more though, and it was in the moments that followed, the long and agonizing moments of waiting for Jay to wake back up, that she realized it was more than a platonic love. She didn’t just love Jay, she was in love with Jay. The realization had rocked her to the core. It had shattered her walls that she had so carefully built and then when she was finally able to talk to him, to take him home, she almost blurted them out. She had started the conversation and her heart fluttered when she saw a brief moment of hope spread across Jay’s face, hope for what she wasn’t sure. Jay didn’t feel the same way for her, that much was guaranteed. He was an amazing guy and an even more amazing friend. He listened to all her dark and twisty thoughts, he knew about her past and they way it affected her to this day, and yet, he never ran away. He was there, always. A constant in her life, a rock. His phone had interrupted them in that moment and Hailey was able to have a minute of clarity, a minute to stop herself from ruining their partnership, their friendship. Jay had asked her what she was going to say, but she was able to brush it off easily and he never brought it up again. That alone was proof enough for her that he didn’t feel the same way. She was certain in that moment in his hospital room, that her body was radiating her feelings for him and you would have to be clueless to not pick up on that. Although, Hailey chuckled to herself and took a sip of her beer, Jay could be pretty clueless sometimes. After that moment in the hospital, Hailey had managed to securely push those thoughts down, locking them away and tossing out the key. She was able to work with him, day in and day out, without her true feelings affecting either one of them. These were lines she could stay within easily, Jay was too important to her to risk losing. Having him as her partner and friend, remaining status quo, would be all she needed. That was, until Voight sent her to New York. And then all the lines blurred. The more Hailey focused on staying within the lines of work, the more the lines of her personal life began to disappear. She spent almost every night on the phone with Jay, both of them hashing out their days at work, both admitting they were ready to be partners again because no one got them quite the same way. Hailey had said multiple times that she missed Chicago, missed working with Intelligence, missed the food.....on one particularly rough day she had even admitted to missing him. His tone had been light and teasing as he didn’t let her comment go unnoticed, but she had managed to recover and get off the phone with him before she could let anything else slip out. But now she was back in Chicago, back with Intelligence and back with Jay. Voight was keeping a careful eye on her, waiting for the second she might slip up and that made staying within the lines at work pretty easy. Jay however, was another matter entirely. They had been spending almost every night, either at his place or hers, drinking beers and watching crappy TV, talking over the cases they were working, or the drama of the people they worked with, and consuming way more pizza then she cared to admit. Having him back in her life, having his presence once again be a constant that she could rely on...it was making those lines extremely hard to maintain. He didn’t realize what he was doing of course, the small gestures of coffee in the morning or checking in after a particularly hard chase, the little smiles he would send her way or the jokes he would make when they were bored at work. Or even at home, whomever’s that may be, when he would stretch out on her couch and his feet would brush against her leg, or if she was at his place and they would get to close in his tiny kitchen, both laughing it off. He didn’t know that each of those moments would send her heart racing and make her breathing hard to maintain. He was all around her, even when he wasn’t. When she was alone in her apartment, all she could picture was him there. Or if she was working with a different partner, she would spend the entire time comparing their actions to Jay’s. It had been wearing down the cage she had locked her feelings in to. On multiple occasions she had felt herself ready to break and to tell him the truth. Thankfully, something had stopped her every time. But it was getting harder and harder to control. So that’s why, after they had a rough case today, one they would normally meet and hash out, she had told Jay she didn’t want company tonight. She had paced about her place for awhile, knowing that if she stayed he would inevitably show up. So she had grabbed her keys and headed out the door. Hailey knew it was risky coming to Molly’s, knew that there was a fair chance if Jay didn’t stay home, this is where he would be. But part of her was hoping that would be the case. His look of hurt when she shut him out and crushed her, he had pushed back, stating he knew this case was hard on her and that they should talk it out, but she had just built her walls up higher and kept him out. It wasn’t necessarily an argument between them, but it was certainly a harsher conversation then they normally had. And she knew shutting him out would hurt him.

    She sat at her table in the corner of the bar, slowly nursing her second beer, when she glanced up and saw him walk in. His eyes instantly met hers, finding her easily in the crowded bar as if he knew she was here. She followed him as he grabbed his own beer from the bar and then headed her way. She steeled herself in the chair, throwing walls up left and right, and picked at the label on her bottle. He finally reached her table, setting his beer down with a clunk before settling in to the chair across from her. He remained silent as his eyes studied her features. She could feel him staring but kept her eyes glued on the label she was picking at. Suddenly, his hand moved into her line of sight, taking hold of her bottle and setting in down in front of her. Now, empty handed, she had no choice but to look at him. Her eyes met his before quickly darting away. She felt vulnerable and realized that he would be able to see right through her. 

“Hailey...” He said her name slowly, his low tone causing her heart to skip a beat. She couldn’t reply, didn’t trust her voice to not give her away. So instead she just met his eyes again. His eyes were filled with concern and it didn’t make this situation any easier. “I thought you didn’t want company tonight.” He challenged her to speak, to say something, anything. 

“I didn’t.” She retorted quietly. 

“Then why come here?” He asked, not accusingly, just truly curious. 

“I was out of beer.” She lied, reaching for her bottle and taking a sip.

“You’re never out of beer.” His response brought a smile to her lips, one she tried to hide behind her bottle. 

“My house was too quite.” Hailey mumbled, it wasn’t a lie. Her house had felt deafeningly silent. 

“I would have come over...” Jay spoke carefully, not able to get a good read on her. 

“I know.” Hailey whispered, taking the final bit of beer into her mouth. 

“But you didn’t want me too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement to confirm he was on the right track. Her eyes met his again and she tried to convey an apology as she stood from her stool and went to leave. His hand gently grasped her upper arm, preventing her from leaving and the slight action made her temper flare. She jerked her arm away, sending him one final look before darting out of the bar. He followed her, of course he would follow her. She was almost to her car before he caught up, hollering her name across the parking lot. 

“Hailey!” Jay yelled, jogging to close the gap between them. “Hailey, wait!” He called as she reached for her keys. 

“I just want to be alone Jay.” She huffed, feeling tears threaten to form in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry. She wasn’t even sure why she would cry, but the sudden surge of emotions was a powerful one. 

“Hailey, we should talk about today...you should talk about today..” Jay pushed, not ready to give up this easy. Her eyes met his and she saw something there she hadn’t before, something she couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t need you to be my friend tonight Jay.” She lashed out, nostrils flaring and tears brimming. 

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it!” He countered back immediately. His words took Hailey’s breath away and she struggled to comprehend what he just said. 

“Yeah Jay, we’re partners Partners don’t need to talk every little thing over. I’m fine!” She finished with a yell, hoping her words weren’t doing permanent damage. All she wanted to do was escape this moment, drive home and then pretend that nothing had happened tomorrow. But she knew Jay wasn’t going to give up that easily. 

“Hailey, it’s not every little thing. But this case...I know it got to you..and that’s okay. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” His words were a mix of anger and pleading with her to not shut him out. “We don’t even have to talk about the case, I just want to spend some time with you-” She cut him off before he could continue, her heart couldn’t handle the way he was speaking and she knew she was going to misinterpret his words as something else. 

“We talk about everything Jay. I told you I’m fine! We don’t need to be together all the time.” Her words came out harsher than she intended and she saw the hurt flash through his eyes. She knew she had finally pushed him to the point of anger and knew his temper was flaring. She started to speak again, to find a way to back peddle some how and undo some of the damage. “Jay...”

“Hailey....we don’t have to talk about today. That’s fine. But there’s something else I’ve been wanting to ask you..” He trailed off, looking suddenly nervous. Hailey’s heart was racing, not knowing what was going to come next. “I just feel like things have been different between us, like...I don’t know...more? And I keep replaying that day in the hospital...” 

“Jay...it’s nothing.” Hailey cut him off, head swirling with a wide range of emotions.

“What were you going to say?” He asked, eyes drilling into hers. 

“Nothing.” Hailey’s eyes dropped to the ground, knowing if she kept looking at him she would break. 

“It’s not nothing Hailey.” He pushed, seeming to know what she had wanted to say. Or at least that’s what Hailey’s heart was hoping for and she couldn’t let this happen, she couldn’t risk losing him. 

“Jay...don’t. Please. It’s nothing. We’re good. We’re partners-” She stammered and Jay finally cut her off, after he had been trying to speak over her the entire time. 

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!” He said loudly, still not quiet a yell. Hailey swallowed hard and stayed silent as she waited for him to continue. “I just...Hailey I know..or at least I hope that I’m not completely crazy here but...I..” He stumbled over his words, not sure how to phrase it right. He gave up and took a step closer to her. Hailey’s eyes widen as she looked up at him quickly closing the gap between them. She had to tilt her head to meet his eyes now, he stood close enough she could feel his warm breath battling against the cool air around them. 

“Jay...” She all but whispered his name, her words failing her as he saw his face change. His hand came up slowly and gently cupped her chin. Her heart stopped and the breath hitched in her throat. She knew what was about to happen but she couldn’t stop it, she didn’t want to stop it. He leaned in slowly, eyes never leaving hers and searching for a sign he should stop. She didn’t give him one and he finally closed the gap between them. His warm lips pressed into hers and she felt the world explode around her. It was soft and slow at first, both too timid to make the next move. But his lips continued to work against hers, giving her the confidence to reach her hands up around his neck, pulling him slightly closer. He moved his hands to rest on her waist and she felt the heat grow within her as if his hands were warming her from just a touch. They continued until they both needed to come up for air, their breathing coming out in a matched rapid pace. Jay’s eyes met hers again and she saw a sparkle to them she had never seen before. Her eyes were still wet from her earlier tears but she couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up from her chest. He smiled down at her, looking sheepish but ecstatic. 

“I hope that was-” He started but she cut him off, using her hands still clasped around his neck to pull him back in.  

“Shut up.” She told him with a smile before their lips crashed back in to each other. 

[whattodowithkpop]

When The Clock Strikes 12 (Minghao)

A HUGE thanks to @woozisnoots​ for making the banner!! She did an awesome job!

~~~~~

Pairing: Minghao X Reader

Genre: No Romance

Word Count: 2.8K Words

A/N- I used the title: When the Clock Strikes 12 and the AU Assassin + Masquerade. 

I quickly smooth out my black dress, feeling exposed due to its tightness and my unfamiliarity in these types of outfits. I adjust my black, sparkly mask that sat over my eyes, concealing my identity to a point as it shone in the moonlight. I finally reach the double doors that were adorned in gold, towering over any other building in the city. If I wasn’t so focused on my task at hand I would’ve gawked more at the fine details, but I had no such time.

The guards that stood firmly at the door greeted me with a bow to which I returned. One held out his hand, silently asking me for my entry pass. I retrieve the invite from my small clutch, seeing the gold detailing decorating the smooth, thick paper. The guards inspect my invite, nodding as they hand it back to me, stepping back to let me enter the palace.

I enter the palace, all of my senses immediately being bombarded from every angle. The smell of Lilacs flood into my nose, a sense of calm falling over me. The sound of loud chatter and laughter reach my ears, giving my brain some discomfort due to the shrill noises. The rush of cool air reaches my skin, goosebumps rising over my exposed skin that the dress seemed to show a lot of. I see the giant entryway, filled to the brim with marble statues and expensive paintings, each priced over the worth of the palace itself. Even in the dimly lit room I can see the marble floors stretch out across the whole room, even reaching out into the other rooms from what I could see of them. The gold detailing that furnished the door continued their way into the entryway and on the staircase that lead to the upper levels. I knew that the Xu family was rich, but seeing these things with my own eyes really puts their wealth into perspective. I take notes of all these things, filing them to memory as I make my towards the room where all the commotion was coming from. The lights continue to brighten as I make my way through the heavily decorated halls, scanning the areas for anything I needed to remember. I reach the ballroom, my senses being overloaded once again. The crystal chandlers light up the whole room, leaving no dark places in the giant room. Many people were on the ballroom floor, dancing to the soft music that could barley be heard of the laughter from the lords and ladies. Each person’s identity covered by their masks, making it impossible to distinguish who was of royalty and who was not. I suddenly became hyper aware of how much I didn’t fit in with these noble entities that occupied the room. I let out a shaky breath, refocusing on my job. I pull an envelope from my clutch, opening it gently across the seam. A small note was nested at the bottom. I open it gently, reading the cursive handwriting that flowed across the paper.

‘When the clock strikes 12…’

I raise my head, finding the massive clock the hung on the far wall. The diamond hands showing the time to be ‘10:30’. I nod tin acknowledgment, tucking the note back into the envelope and then back into my clutch. I adjust my back, feeling the cold steel press against my skin under my dress. I survey the area spotting a crow’s nest in the rafters, picking that as my spot.

I begin my descent down the staircase, using the railing as support as I walk down the steps carefully in my heels that I wasn't used to. They clicked against the floor, making my approach evident. I reach the floor, trying my best to walk gracefully against the expanse of the room, reaching the platform where the royal family did all of their speeches and announcements. It stood below the large clock, having it’s own diamond accents to match the hands.

As I was running my fingers along the diamond features, a soft voice catches my attention.

“It’s intricate.” The voice states calmly as I twist my body to face him.

A young man stood before me with his hands behind his back as he took in the details of my appearance. His black suit was blacker than any suit I had ever seen, his tie matching the dark suit. His white button down shirt was a crisp white, contrasting against the black nicely and making it enjoyable to look at. In his pocket sat a red and gold pocket square, giving his outfit a pop of color that it didn’t really need but just added to the whole concept. His mask matched his pocket square, the gold mask lay over his eyes being embellished by ruby jewels that were tastefully placed across the mask, disguising his identity effectively. His dark hair was styled nicely, seeming professional but still having fluff to it.

“Indeed it is.” I agree with the man as he steps forward, standing next to me.

“I feel so sorry for the prince.” He mentions suddenly as he looks at the podium.

The prince was being installed upon the throne tonight. His family had suffered tragedy and he is all that’s left of the royal bloodline. He is quite young to become king, having just turned 18 this year he would be the youngest king to rule this kingdom.

“I feel he may not have such a hard time.” I comment, being vague in my response, but having full confidence that my plan would destroy the royal bloodline tonight.

“Why do you say so?” The masked man asks, his body turned towards me.

“I think the prince will take a much needed rest.” I reply, watching the seconds tick away on the clock.

“You’re quite intriguing.” The man notes, facing forward again.

We stand in silence, both of us watching the clock in comfort.

“When will the prince appear?” I ask suddenly, curiosity getting the better of me.

“He is supposed to make an announcement at midnight.” The man tells me. “Are you perhaps looking to court the young royal?”

I laugh obnoxiously, my head falling back at the force of my laughter. “As tempting as that offer is I will pass this time.”

The man smiles at my response, nodding in acknowledgment before facing the clock once more.

The music’s demeanor takes a change, it’s fast paced rhythm slowing to a calm. Everyone begins to pair up, entering the dance floor for the slow dance.

The man looks over to me, his movement catching my attention. He smiles through his mask, out stretching his hand towards me.

“Would you like to dance?”

I stare at his hand for a moment, debating whether or not to accept his offer. After weighing the pros and cons, I decided it would be good to participate in some party activities so as not to draw attention to myself.

“I would.” I smile at him, reaching my hand out to touch his which he grabs mine gently as he leads me to the middle of the room.

He wraps his arm around my waist respectfully, not making me uncomfortable by his touch. His hand keeps a firm grip over mine as I reach my other hand to rest on his shoulder. He smiles down at me as he makes his first movements, moving us gracefully across the floor.

I smile brightly, basking in the feeling of being whisked around across the floor, genuinely enjoying the dance. It felt as if we were being watched by the guests of the party, but my curiosity over this matter was drowned out by the music that was playing softly through the room.

The song comes to an end, our swaying ending with it. The man and I detach ourselves from each other, giving a quick bow to each other.

“I must say, you’re an interesting woman.” He states with a half smile gracing his lips.

“Likewise.” I smile at him mischievously, rather enjoying his company.

I hear the toll of the clock alerting the guests of the part that it was now 11:00. My eyes widen, realizing I didnt have much time left.

“I must get going.” I tell them man quickly, bowing in farewell.

“Take care, my lady.” He bows back.

I past him quickly,  towards the stairs that lead back up towards the entryway. I reach the top just as a microphone’s feedback screeches through the room, alerting the room of the man that stood behind the podium that sat atop the large platform.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” The man greets, prompting everyone to rush to the platform to crowd around the man as close as they could. I blow out a breath of air, feeling relief that no eyes would be on me fore awhile. I quickly exit the room, hugging the wall as I travel through the halls towards the entryway. I could still hear the man’s voice travel through the rooms.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight.” The man continues. “As you know, tonight is a special night for me as I know take over the title of King.” Cheer and claps erupt from the masses at The Prince’s words.

“The circumstances under which I am receiving this title so early are not pleasant as we all know.” He voice continues as I reach the entryway, saying in the shadows as I ascend up the staircase in the middle of the entryway. “But, as my father before me ran this kingdom with compassion, I vow to do the same.” More cheers erupt, some whistles carrying through the house as well.

I reach the top of the stairs, a long dark hallway greets me there, which at the end, holds my destination.

“At 12 the ceremony will begin, until then, please help yourself to more wine and enjoy the company of one another.” The crowds clap, cheering more at the mention of wine. I continue my path, walking straight to the end of the hall where a window sat. The moon was bright overhead, illuminating the small corner of the hallway I stood in. I walk up to the window, reaching my hands out to open the locks, pushing the window doors outward, letting the cool breeze reach inside the palace. I sigh at the feeling of the cold air against my skin, appreciating the fresh air after being in the suffocating presence of the royals just a floor below me.

I quickly take off my shoes, knowing they would hinder my performance because of their discomfort. I also grab my dress, ripping it at the slit to give me more mobility, the slit now reaching just below indecency. I leave my shoes behind the vase that sat on a table next to the door at the end of the hallway. I knew it wasn’t smart leaving evidence behind, but by the time they realize what has happened and find the shoes, I will be halfway across the world living out my days in hiding.

I kick my leg over the ledge of the window, reaching into my clutch to pull out my hand held grappling hook. It wasn’t the most ideal hook, but in this tight situation, it is going to have to do. I shoot the hook towards the window above, effectively grasping the ledge. I pull it a couple times to check it’s support before I completely push away from the window, my bare feet touching the cold stone that made up the outside of the palace. I gently slide down the side, approaching the window below feeling blinded by the chandeliers brights illumination. I peak through the window, seeing all the previous guests drinking and being merry. I look right below the window, seeing the crow’s nest I had seen from the floor, making me smile at my serendipitous. I wrap the rope around my hand tightly, supporting a majority of my weight on that arm, the rest of it on my leg that had a small grip on the tiny ledge that rested just outside the window. I pull the clip from my hair, twisting and bending it to use it as a pick to break into the lock. I hear the satisfying click, making me smile. I clip the wrecked pin back into my hair, keeping it just in case. I swing my body to the window, carefully balancing on the ledge as I open the window, jumping into the crow’s nest. I sigh out heavily, feeling relief I had made it. I look to the giant clock on the wall, reading the time to be 11:47, making me panic at how long it took me to get to my spot. I reach behind me, grasping the aluminum that was tucked into my dress as I unsheathe the sniper rifle I had, miraculously, hid in my tight dress. I breathe out as I hold the piece in my hands, feeling comfortable with my weapon in my hands after so many hours of discomfort. I take my masquerade mask off my face, the skin around my eyes feeling the cool air begin to dry the sweat that had accumulated over the hours I had worn it. I open my clutch, swapping my mask for the silencer that had waited all night to be revealed. I twist it onto the tip of the gun just before beginning to set up the aim.

I anxiously wait for the final minutes to tick away, for 12 to finally strike so I could take my shot. I watch the Prince emerge from the crowd, stepping up to the podium as the clock reads ’11:58’. The grip on my trigger tightens, my breathing controlled so I could line up the perfect shot.

’11:59’

My finger presses aging the trigger, only needing one small push to send the bullet through the barrel.

“You do stick out like a sore thumb.” A voice startles me just as the clock tolls, announcing 12:00.

I jerk my head towards the voice, seeing the man I had danced with towering over me. I growl in frustration, going back to my scope quickly, trying to get the bullet out of the chamber. The man kicks the gun away, forcing the scope to hit my eye, making me cry out in pain.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong target.” The man speaks again.

I stand quickly, getting defensive just in case.

The man reaches for his his gold mask, his fingers gripping the edges gently as he pulls it from his face, revealing his whole identity to me. My eyes widen as I look into his brown eyes that were barley seen through the light from the moon. I recognized his face immediately.

“You’re the Prince.” I whisper, watching as his lips turn into a smile.

“Please, call me Minghao.” He asks before gesturing to the man who was on stage at this very moment, giving a speech on how thrilled he was to become king. “He is not your target.”

“How?” I ask him, glaring at him, realizing my plan had been foiled before I entered the palace.

“It’s not on you at all.” Minghao tells me, watching my movements closely. “Your “employer” has some dishonest men amongst him.”

“Of course, leaving me to go to jail for it.” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as I stare at the prince. “You knew when I entered the room.”

Minghao chuckles, his voice bringing comfort in this high stress situation. “I had suspicions.” He takes a step closer to me, his body heat radiating onto mine from his proximity. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the sniper under your dress?”

I glare at him, anger seething through me as I watched amusement dance in his eyes. “You think you’ve won, but I will kill you next time.”

“There won’t be a need.” He comments. “Your employer will be jailed for his hit request, there’s no money in it for you anymore.”

“But there’s redemption.” I snarl at him, pushing him with both of my hands as I sweep my leg, effectively causing him to stumble back from me. I jump from the window, grabbing the rope and sliding down it quickly, my hands being burned by friction. I reach the bottom, pulling the hook off the ledge as it falls into my hand. I see Prince Minghao lean over the edge of the window, watching me as I made my exit. I only stare for a moment before running towards the city, traveling through the darkness to hide from any eyes. This was not the last time Minghao and I would meet and I promised to myself that our next meeting, would end with his death.

SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

TMI! (Not in a bad way, just in a I’m-personally-uncomfortable-way-so-I’m-calling-it-TMI. LOL)

I just saw a prompt thing that asked about whether or not you’ve ever written a poem or song for someone and...well, for awhile I think I kinda repressed this memory and it just came up again, but...when I was in Upward Bound, I wrote this poem for a girl I really liked (if I could think of a brief phrase now to use to describe her, I’d use something like “Skater girl” or stoner - or both - LOL, although I didn’t really consider myself friends with any stoners at that time because it was early in high school versus later when ultimately one of my last high school friends was indeed admittedly both a skater AND a stoner), and in my poem I either titled it something like “Beautiful Girl” or I certainly used a cliché-as-hell phrase like that IN my poem BUT UH. UM. YOU KNOW...I NEVER THOUGHT AT THE TIME THAT THAT WAS LIKE...ME BEING GAY. BUT LOOKING BACK, NOW I’M LIKE...WAIT A MINUTE, BITCH, THAT WAS FUCKING GAY. 😂 Oh and also, at the end of junior year my Upward Bound program took qualifying juniors to an indoor water park as a reward and that was kinda majorly the time that I realized I had a crush on my former enemy (a guy) but I also just remembered that over that trip it was EVIDENT that he had a crush on that girl who I wrote a poem about/for. And now I’m like...oh my god it could’ve been an actual love triangle where the girl represented the main point (tbh I wrote that poem about/for her before I had a crush on my enemy so even though at that time I KNEW I had a crush on him, it still could’ve been real), EXCEPT that I was utterly clueless about my attraction to that girl so it was not. BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN. AND THAT’S JUST SO WEIRD AND KIND OF FUNNY TO THINK ABOUT, OMG.

Because, to be fair, even though I loved my friends a ton and was very openly affectionate with them (until, that is, way too many god damn assholes, including my friends!, kept calling me “clingy.” It’s been downhill since there, and now my desire to be affectionate with my friends or anyone is, like, 2/10 on an average day. Which is basically to say I feel like being affectionate maybe two times in a whole day, LOL), I didn’t really go around calling them “beautiful” to their faces or in writing? Ummmmm, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...yeah, that poem was definitely gay and I have absolutely no idea how it took me like five years after that to figure out that I’m bi. Like, wow. I mean, I’ve ALWAYS been one of those people who takes their time (and I will DIE LIKE THAT, PEOPLE), BUT COME ON. OMG. I just feel like...I can’t even now. (*starts blasting “Your Life is a Lie” by Romeo Void*)

Oh but nonetheless, that real life love triangle concept still tickles me, that me AND the guy I had a crush on were both like 👀 at the same girl. LMAOOOOOOOOO God damn, if I was still friends with him I would definitely share this revelation with him. And he’d definitely joke about it (probably not in a mean-spirited, homophobic way), but I also wonder if he’d be uncomfortable with it...like ‘oh that’s weird because technically I had a crush on both of you but apparently neither of you really wanted me so. Wow. Thanks, I guess.’ 😂 Obviously ‘both’ of us not wanting him would be inaccurate though since at least I certainly had a crush on him. But I can definitely imagine him trying to take the ‘poor, poor pitiful me’ route. 🙄 Honestly, he was annoying like that. Also, yes, in my real life in high school I did literally go through the enemies to friends/unrequited love to almost lovers thing. And other than this one or maybe in future posts, I do NOT want to talk about it! 😂

[transcendence-au]

Okay, sorry for sending so many asks, posts, reblogs, submissions and stuff lately.  I have been more active on tumblr lately, esp. for Gravity Falls, TAU, and Transcendence stuff lately.  Which I like in general, but with the TAUathon and the Transcendence zine stuff going on, both of which I have been busy with, and have been going on more lately  But yeah, I have fics I have been working on for both and they are almost done. 

They have a lot of references to other fics and head canons I have read.  Im also trying to research and make sure the lore and TAU is as correct and good as possible, so besides them being long, and me trying to make them as good as possible, the research is taking me awhile and stuff.  Anyways, for one of the fics, I want to clarify something, I want to make sure Im sticking to the canon or at lease the Squish as much possible, at least with these 2 fics.  Anyways, for the TAUathon fic Im almost done with, I want to ask this question, before I finish it, in case, however you answer makes me need to change things in the fic. 

I dont need to ask much questions for the TAU zine fic Im working on (which I hope they are still taking.  I did said I would be submitting something, but they didnt say any kind of due date, at least the last time I work.  I havent checked tumblr a lot until recently since I have been busy working on that TAU zine fic and the TAUathon fic, so yeah I have been busy) since Im pretty sure everything is right in it, and because Im pretty sure I cant tell and show much have a zine thing/fic (Im not completely sure on that, since this my 1st time entering a zine, or doing much zine things, though Im pretty sure, so yeah). 

Anyways, my question for the TAUathon fic I am working and I think is just an interesting question in general is how would Alcor’s (near) Omniscience would work with Gods?  I know in the TAU verse, Gods are more like Guardians of their Domain usually, and are usually less powerful than Angels and Demons, probably esp. the higher rank demons and angels.  Though, I bet there is probably some expectations with that too, esp. with more old/ancient, wise, and experienced Gods, but usually Gods are in TAU.  Gods remind a bit of Genius Loci (which I love too, I love Genius Loci stuff, I would love to read more on that.  I esp. love the Hank, Alcor Genius Loci stuff esp. in Portland, Gravity Falls, and some I have seen with LA, because those places are just great settings, esp. for mundane and prenatural stuff and coexisting. 

Gods remind me a bit of Genius Loci both protectors/guardians of their domain in a lot of ways (with Gods usually have having some stuff that shows who and what they are a God of and Genius Loci being basically literal personifications of the place), but probably a lot stronger and in most cases older, maybe not always though.  Anyways, back more on topic, how do you think Alcor’s (near) Omniscience, and probably others’ omniscience as well would work on Gods. 

I know Demons with other Demons its possible they might find out stuff about, or around the other demons, or the omniscience and the user might do works arounds to find out stuff, basically it can be very on the fritz, staticy, or/& barely working to not working at really.  I know demons usually cant read the others’ minds.  And Im basically do the same things with Gods, but both a lesser and more extent.  While Alcor’s omniscience is definitely on the fritz and kinda disjointed with the flow of words and information, it is probably giving him more information than he would be able to find out about demons right away, though sometimes if he pushes himself to find out more it causes bad physical stuff too, though the human form Alcor is right now, is not helping that, but basically pushing yourself can be bad with how Im writing that fic. 

And another more thing when it comes to trying to get read on Gods, esp. this particular Old God with his omniscience is that it is even harder to read their minds and get into their mindscapes maybe then even other demons (would omniscience with Angels work a bit similar to demons and Gods, or just completely differently now that I think about it?), and you would have to read and use aura and logical deductions a lot more maybe.  The reason why I think that, is because of the God Eye item helping against omniscient beings, though maybe whatever they do to turn an actual God Eye (I think its an actual God’s Eye) into an item/talisman maybe makes that stronger, I can see that.  Again, I know other people maybe different interpretations on how well or not well Omniscience and Alcor’s Omniscience will work against others.  Like I think I know pretty well on how well it works against (other) demons, but Im less sure about Angels and Gods. 

So if maybe you can tell your opinion and what you think that would be cool, esp. on the Gods stuff, because that is fic Im writing for TAU now.  And if think my ideas that I have been using in my TAU Gods fic makes sense when it comes to Omniscience and Alcor’s omniscience with them and also their own omniscience against other beings like gods, demons, angels, etc.  I think what Im doing in my fic with those ideas and stuff makes enough sense, but I would love to hear some of your thoughts if possible. 

If you dont know everything (yet) thats fine, Im just curious.  And Im also sure other people might come with really good TAU Gods (and even more Angels) lore, head canons, and stuff.  If you cant answer soon that is fine.  If I finish the fic before you answer, I might make another (updated) version with any information you tell me someday, till then I hope my fic is good enough representation of the kind stuff im asking about and accurate enough.  Ever seeing that Mother Gaia Prompt, been wanting more Gods and Old Gods in TAU, so Im making one (and maybe even more later) myself.  Also, sorry about long this was, I ended talking more than just the omniscience thing, haha.

----

Glad to see your enthusiasm! Sorry this took a little bit to answer; we’re aware that you’ve posted your TAU fic already. No worries, though; you’re pretty much spot on with the long and short of it, which is this: Alcor’s Omniscience may not be 100% reliable at all times.

In many works and headcanons in TAU, this ability of his seems to work a little more like a cosmic google search than anything. He often has to know what he wants to know about in the first place, and then be able to give it a moment of thought. Now, once he does so, any and all information that may be available to him is instantly downloaded and understood, as it were. That being said, sometimes the sources - or the subjects - of that information have enough power to put up blocks of some sort (for the most powerful, most exclusive example in this AU, consider True Names - no being, however omniscient, can simply reach into this well of knowledge and draw out the True Name of another being). Of creatures and beings with this amount of power, other demons would be some, and it’s very reasonable to assume that angels and even gods would be others. In theory, perhaps one with enough power could overwhelm the blocks around one with very little, but I’m not sure if that’s been explored as a concept.

So in short, I’m pretty sure you’ve got it! Have fun writing those Old Gods and Conceptual Deities!

[blindrapture]

a union-mandated break post

(okay, let’s see if I can type this all over again after losing the post. gotta remember how it all went.)

Hey there, the few mutuals who Like all of my posts, the lurkers who occasionally make their presence known, the lurkers who I also hope are there, and all you folks who come across this post naturally before scrolling on (that’s fine too, please have a nice day! remember to take a deep breath and unclench!). I wanted to make a post giving a casual update.

Things have been going. You know how it is. Time proceeds onwards at a pace that is a crawl to some and fleeting to others, depending on relative perspective. The average of all these observations may be Objective Truth, a hazy mythical and abstract prospect which to this day no living human has ever known (due to the nature of perspective). We still try to know it for some reason, an endeavour which may be “a good thing” or “a condemnation of our species,” but that’s relative too. See above. Still, it is possible to take an approximation of what we figure this average to be and find ourselves (mis)balanced on a knife-edge in between all perspectives. This narrow path, the knife-edge between fast and slow, between good and bad, between ecstasy and despair, seems precarious at times, yet at other times is like a garden, wide and spacious enough to sit awhile. Our perspectives cover this garden from us with the shrubbery of Can’ts and Shouldn’ts, and the way to the garden is fraught with the misty cloud of Look-Like. And yet, ultimately, these shrubs and mists are but prismatic scenery colouring our time on this Earth, a perspective which is easy to see from within the garden. The Earth is brown and grey and immortal, though wearing an impermanent coat of blue and green. One day, we will slip out of our perspectives and return to the Earth, join her mounding’s mass, and that will be death.

So that’s the weather. Sometimes cold, sometimes mild, sometimes wet, sometimes dry, sometimes bothersome and sometimes the only backdrop I could ever want. I’ve been up to the usual, cycling between interests like a bat between haunts.

- The other day I got around to playing Smile For Me, an experience which took me about three hours to more-or-less complete 100%. Really cute game, I fell in love with all the characters, and the budding horror elements made me excited to see where it’d go.

- Currently I’m playing A Monster’s Expedition Through Puzzling Exhibitions, a game often cited in the same breath as Baba Is You and Stephen’s Sausage Roll. I think those two games are puzzle masterpieces, and A Monster’s Expedition is hitting me in the right spot. It frequently fills me with awe, which is impressive considering the game is just a long series of oblong block-pushing puzzles. It has scope, though, and it has the guts to hide that scope from you until you’re able to discover it for yourself. I’ve played for about 10 hours so far, beaten over 200 islands, and yet I feel I’m only getting further away from the end goal. Hard to describe. It’s a good game.

- When I’m done with that game, next I’ll be checking out Spelunky 2. I’ve wanted to try the original for a long time but never got around to it; I picked up the sequel. I know very little about the games (with a rough idea of what gameplay is like), and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. I like games that rely on discovery.

- Book-wise, I’m, y’know, reading Finnegans Wake as I fall asleep, occasionally inching through other books too, but my main reading focus at the moment is The Familiar. I went and picked up a new copy of Volume 5, and I found the Volume 3 I had kinda lost for a while, so now I have the full Season 1 again. And it’s been long enough since I read any of them that it’s finally time to reread them. As a unit this time. I am... so happy to be in their headspace. I’m currently in the second act of Volume 1, taking in a lot more details this time (and I do still remember a sense of where the whole plot goes), really cherishing the commitment to physicality and aesthetic. There’s not many authors out there like Danielewski. House of Leaves kickstarted my book obsession, y’know. And The Familiar is about as grand as a project can be. It’s supposed to be 27 volumes, each one 900 pages long, and the design of these books is goddamn sublime. The publisher only let him do the first 5 volumes, which is sad, but luckily those 5 volumes make up a “Season,” so they’re still a whole thing, a complete story arc for each of the nine protagonists, and plenty of secrets and details that give a good sense of the true scope. And did I mention the series is fucking scary? Profoundly so, each new volume weaving you deeper into its conspiratorial web of eldritch coincidences and patterns. The story is full of cats, immortal cats, God-cats. There’s a scientist who keeps a freaky magic orb and is known as Wizard. There’s an Armenian taxi driver who’s one of my favourite characters. And you can probably get all the volumes Used for fairly cheap on Amazon now. ........please, somebody join me in loving this series.

- Creative-wise, I’m working on music as always, putting notes next to each other until I get a result I can do something with. There is one piece that’s definitely done, a collaboration between Lindsay and I, but it’s going into Nine Is God so you won’t hear it just yet. Speaking of, that’s coming along. I haven’t even started making any codes or cool connections yet; I want to finish the... Core of this update first. Let’s be deceptive and call it the Main Blog. I have proven to myself that I definitely can do this; I keep stumbling on new mechanisms I can add, and I have a pretty vivid idea of what the whole thing will look like. It’s gonna be maybe a decent size for a Blog, all told, but it’s the form of the thing that mandates a lot of care. Luckily I have made Viceking’s Graab, so this isn’t the first time I’ve done something this mechanically ambitious. ...look, just. Of course I’m excited to Actually Talk about this thing, but like with the Graab, its nature requires me to keep it secret until players finally discover it for themselves. I like making that kind of thing, I want the sense of discovery, of climbing up a hill only to reach the summit and see an even bigger mountain looming over you that you hadn’t realized was there. Like Frog Fractions, or its sequel, even if you know there will be more than meets the eye you still get surprised and filled with delight. This concept fits neatly into an ARG format.

- Oh, also, I’m super excited for the Braid remake. It’s gonna have a comically thorough amount of developer commentary, and that’s all I want from this world. It’s even coming to Switch!

Media can be used as a tool to assist with the experience of life, and that is the way I want to approach things. I have spent time adapting myself to feel comfortable in these boring aesthetics (of understated puzzle games, thoughtful pretty books, blogs as art) because this means I am less susceptible to getting burned out during contemplation and self-examination. It may seem like a matter of taste, but taste is relative too; it’s not hard-wired, it can be adjusted, it does adjust all the time under the hood. ...I don’t know where to go with this one, other than that I should be careful not to condescend. I am not above anyone, I am confused too. I just.. like confusion and mazes, and I try to speak these aesthetics in an approximation of how I see others talk about theirs.

Right. I think that’s the bulk of it, that’s what I wanted to say today. I hope you are holding on, reader. It’s a wild and lonely world out there, and it’s our world; it’s yours just as much as it’s anyone else’s. You are important to it.

I leave you, mysteriously, with an old Genesis song. It’s called “Can-Utility and the Coastliners,” which is a silly way of saying it’s a song about the myth of King Canute. Sick of flatterers claiming he was equal to God, he went to the sea shore and said “If I truly am equal to God, then let the waves halt at my feet!” They didn’t. An astute demonstration, but it just prompted his flatterers to praise his ingenuity. “But he forced a smile, even though his hopes lay dashed where offerings fell.” I’m not really sure how the story ends. But it’s a wonderful song, starts off very folks-y but quickly takes a left turn down Mystery and Beauty. And it’s freaking Genesis.

See ya.