#not feeling like 'i will finish the comic before i ever clean this site up enough to share' anymore lolololllllll

[technovillain]

my ass is WERKIN on this webbed site....... its getting scrumptious finally

[myboipracticallyimagines]

Parents - Din Djarin x Reader

Spoilers for about all of season 2. Don’t read if you haven’t finished season 2 of the Mandalorian. 

Prompt: In order for Grogu to train to the best of his ability, he is allowed to return to Din and you for short breaks. Basically co-parenting with Luke.

You never expected to be co-parenting with a Jedi. Parenting with Din alone had brought challenges you never would have expected, throw a space wizard into the mix and it was almost comical. 

“How far away are we now?” you ask from the passenger seat in the Razor Crest. Even after being rebuilt, Din kept the original name.  “Only fifteen parsecs now. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”  “This time felt so much longer than the last. I don’t know if I can do it if he needs to keep him any longer.” Grogu had been going to Luke’s training facility for months now and the time away from him was beginning to take a toll on both you and your partner. 

Din had already put on his armor, but left off his helmet. It was a gradual change, with him slowly becoming more comfortable with you. The early days of your love were far behind, along with the blindfolds you had to wear to hide the Mandalorian’s face from your sight. While not onboard the ship Din still wore his full armor, helmet included. Grogu and you were the only two he exposed himself to. One of the child’s favorite places to rest was cuddled into his father’s chest, only fabric now separating the two. 

“We’re here,” the Mandalorian said, parking the ship. You pressed your lips gently onto his forehead before lowering his helmet.  “Let’s get our kid.” 

Luke stood outside, holding Grogu in his arms. He was alert and excitedly watching the two of you.  “He trained well,” the Jedi said, a smile clearly present on his face.  “Good. What would you say his status is?” you asked as Din reached out for the child, who happily went into his arms.  “He’s progressing quicker than I imagined, but still has a lot of work done to be able to fully control his powers.”  “When do we need to bring him back,” Din asked.  “Two weeks.”  What? “It’s always been at least a month,” the Mandalorian protested.  “I know, but he’s progressing exceptionally fast and I fear prolonged periods not using his abilities will only weaken him. He needs to be with you for stability, but a shortened length is crucial to his training.”  Din sighed, pulling Grogu closer to his chest. “I understand. We’ll return in two weeks time.” 

Once the Razor Crest was safe and parked in a secure location, Din joined you and Grogu in the back of the ship where you tossed the child’s ball back and forth. Grogu, of course, did so with Force. Din sat across from you, placing the child comfortably in his lap. “You two having fun?” You smiled at your partner, who was now without his armor. “We always do.”  Grogu yawned before slumped into Din’s arms, a telltale sign that bedtime was not far away. “I think someone’s sleepy,” Din said, smiling down at his child. You yawned, causing him to laugh gently. “Maybe a few someones.” 

Tucking Grogu into his bed had become one of your favorite things. You knew that he was safe and loved and in your care again. Din would do anything to protect the two of you and you knew that aboard the Razor Crest was about the safest place a child could be. Thankfully, the other safest place was with Luke. Your heart warmed knowing that Grogu was protected by the two strongest people in the galaxy.  “Goodnight, baby,” you said, kissing Grogu on the forehead.  “Goodnight, kid,” Din joined, gently scratching the child’s ears. 

After crawling into bed, you were fast to voice your feelings. “I don’t want to give him back.”  “I don’t either. But that’s what we agreed to do. If we ever want him to be completely safe, we must continue his training. I can’t protect him from himself.”  You cuddled closer into Din’s chest, aching for the comfort you knew only he could give you. “I understand. I just miss him.”  “I do, too.” 

Two weeks went by quick. Once again, the three of you took the trip back to the Jedi training facility. You held Grogu tightly on your lap as Din manned the controls. The child clung to you. Luke once said that the first few days after returning were the worst. Grogu’s sadness would prevent him from training to his fullest capabilities. It got better as time passed, which was the main reason for the lengthened stays at his facility. 

As the three of you got off the ship you noticed that Luke was grinning larger than normal. “I have news.”  “What is it?” Din asked.  “We’ve recently updated the facilities and found room for you to stay with us.” “Safely,” he added.  “You want us to stay here?” you asked in disbelief.  “I do. It’s safe enough for you both to stay on site. I also believe that it will be beneficial for Grogu to have both of his parents with him.” 

After a brief chat, Din and you agreed to stay at the facility. Upon entering the gates you saw that Luke had been quite humble on his description of the base. Luke led you to your hut, which held two bedrooms alongside other necessary spaces. “Thank you,” the Mandalorian spoke.  “Grogu should be done with training by nightfall,” Luke said before leaving you and the Mandalorian alone in your temporary home.  Upon his leave, Din removed his helmet and pulled you to his chest in a tight embrace. You hugged him back, your emotion finally spilling over. 

When nightfall came, Luke appeared, holding a very worn-out Grogu in his hands. “He did well today. I’ll return for him at sunrise.”   “Thank you, Luke,” Din said, taking his half-asleep child from the Jedi’s arms.  The three of you ate together. Grogu wanted nothing more than to sleep but you fed him as he sat comfortable on Din’s lap. Once he started snoring you gave up, accepting defeat.  After quickly cleaning up, you put the child to sleep together, adoring the small smile present on his sleeping face. 

As you crawled into bed in your new home, you felt a contentment you hadn’t felt in many years. This is what it felt like to be a family. While it wasn’t a normal family, you got to spend your days with the two you loved most. “Din?” you asked, hoping the Mandalorian was still awake.  He rolled over to look at you. “Hmm?” “I love you.”  Din gave you a tired kiss, a small smile present on his lips. “I love you, too.” 

[monstersandmaw]

Male sharkman/samebito x male reader (nsfw) *commission*

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This was one of my five commission slots, and was huge fun to write since I’ve never had the pleasure of writing a sharkman (ie, has a shark upper half!). I really hope you enjoy it!

---

With a week to kill until you started your new job, you dragged yourself out of your new apartment full of boxes and bags late one evening, fed up with tripping over disembowelled boxes. Feeling halfway to being hungry, you really just wanted to stretch your legs and have a break from pretending to unpack.

The tang of the sea in the air was surprisingly nice after the stuffiness of the big city, but that didn’t mean you’d be going for a swim anytime soon. You shivered at the thought of that much water on all sides, and instead satisfied yourself with a walk along the seafront.  It was a pretty, quaint town, with turn-of-the-century apartment buildings lining the road that ran along the beach front, and there was even an old pier with a boardwalk and amusement arcade.

Seagulls shrieked at the sky as the stars began to wake up above them, and you took a deep breath, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets. A new start in a town where you knew no one at all was all very well, but the reality of it was a bit more daunting than perhaps you’d realised. The sea washed against the shingles below and you turned away from the water and crossed the road, heading towards the livelier part of the beach-front.

Just across the street from the pier was an apparently very popular nightclub. Even at a distance the air throbbed with its music, and people formed a ragged line along the pavement, waiting to be let in.

You walked along the line of jostling and laughing people and caught snatches of their conversations. A faun with her antlers painted in swirls of glowing colours for the evening gasped and hissed, “I didn’t know samebito could live out of the water…” and you frowned.

Samebito were otherwise known as sharkfolk or sharkmen/women, and they were pretty rare. You also hadn't known they could live out of the water, but it wasn’t until you neared the head of the queue that you saw your first one in real life. With the head of a great white shark, the figure was colossal. Wearing a black t-shirt with the club’s logo that just barely stretched across his sculpted chest, this samebito was clearly the bouncer, and as you kept walking - albeit at a slower pace so that you could watch a little longer - you saw him joking and laughing with the people who were at the very front of the queue.

Suddenly someone got elbowed and a snarl went up, and a bit of a scuffle broke out as a gnoll’s patience ran out and she tried to barge her way forwards.

The samebito drew his lips back to reveal a heck of a lot of teeth, and loomed over the gnoll, flexing his shoulders just a little bit, and she suddenly decided that in fact she didn’t mind waiting. It was a gesture that you found surprisingly attractive, but a second later, the samebito had returned to his conversation with the folks at the front, almost as though nothing had happened. You did notice, however, that he kept half an eye on the rest of the line.

“Hey, Tai?” one of the folks a few people back in the queue called and the samebito looked up.

“Yeah?”

“How long’s the wait you reckon?”

He shrugged and grinned. “You’ve got maybe another ten minutes til you’re in…”

And then you were drawing level with him, and he glanced at you as you neared him.

To your surprise, he winked at you. It wasn’t the normal wink of a land creature, more of a rolling of the white of his eye, but still, you took it for what it was and tossed him a lopsided half-smile and kept on walking. Something inside you had leapt joyously at the fact that a being as powerful and undeniably beautiful - in a brutal, almost primeval kind of way - had not only bothered to notice you, but had then acknowledged you as well.

Smiling privately to yourself, you continued on your evening stroll, passing coffee shops and souvenir shops now closed for the night, and finally found yourself back at your messy apartment, with the edge taken off your restlessness and a readiness for sleep beginning to creep into your muscles.

After a week of cloudy or rainy autumn weather, it came as a pleasant surprise when the next day dawned clear but still cool. After fumbling around for some clean clothes, you thought vaguely about going and getting some coffee from one of the waterfront cafes you’d seen on your walk the previous night. You certainly hadn’t got as far as buying any in yet, and you wouldn’t make it through the morning without a hit of caffeine to help you along.

Stifling a yawn, you made your way past the club where you’d seen the samebito, and recalled his wink with a flaring warmth and another private smile. The club was closed up now; quiet and dormant, waiting for the nightlife to return with the sunset, and there was no sign of the sharkman.

The coffee at the Pier View Cafe was actually pretty decent, and you sank down into a chair outside to sip it and savour the warmth of the morning sun on your bare forearms. After maybe ten minutes, spent alternately scrolling through your usual sites on your phone and gazing off into the glittering waves in the distance, you caught sight of a massive figure leaving one of the beach-front buildings not twenty yards from where you were sat. At nearly eight feet tall and about half as wide at the shoulders, with grey skin and the head of a great white shark, there was no mistaking him. The bouncer from the previous night turned from locking the door, took three paces up the street towards you, and then halted briefly when he saw you looking at him.

Heat flushed your cheeks and you looked away awkwardly, but when you risked a look up again, you saw to your horror that he was walking over. Perhaps he thought you were stalking him? All sorts of scenarios - each one marginally more ridiculous than the last one - played through your head until you swallowed them down and took a deep breath. The samebito was standing in front of you, grinning down at you and blocking out the sunlight better than a flipping eclipse.

“Hey,” he said in a gravelly, deep voice that threatened to make you entirely inarticulate.

“Uh… Hi…?” you croaked, craning your neck up at him.

He chuckled and held out a grey-skinned, knuckly, strong hand and you shook it instinctively. “So… I saw you last night, didn’t I?” he asked warmly, and you nodded. “Didn’t fancy dancing though?” he added.

You liked the playful lilt to his voice, halfway between an accent and an undertone, and before it could render you speechless, you shook your head. “Not so much.”

Again, a rumbling laugh rolled off him. “You’re new here, aren't you?”

“What makes you say that?”

The samebito took half a step back from your table and shrugged one colossal shoulder. “Most of the real locals don’t stare at me the way you do.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, turning your gaze away from him.

He looked particularly handsome that morning, in a white t-shirt that showed his chest muscles off and hid practically nothing, and a pair of baggy, pale jeans. He’d cut and stitched a slit in the back of the t-shirt for his chunky dorsal fin, and it stood out as a nearly perfect triangle of smoky grey skin in the morning light.

“I… I moved here like… last week? I’ve never seen someone like you before. I didn’t mean to stare or make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s cool,” he said, ducking his head ever so slightly as if to gauge you a little better. “Listen, you’re cute and you’ve finished your drink. Will you let me get you another one?”

“Uh… I mean, I was just about to head off,” you said, gesturing vaguely and frowning, and honestly panicking just little bit. This kind of thing never happened to you. “You don’t have to. And anyway, shouldn’t I be the one offering to get you a drink after making an ass of myself?”

His grin and pointed look southwards towards your own ass spoke volumes, and you flushed darker, but he made no verbal comment, and just shook his head. “I’d like to. Don’t let me push you though. If you don’t want me to, then I’ll piss off…”

It was your turn to shake your head, and when he saw that you did really want the chance to get to know him a bit, he smiled broadly, showing all his array of serrated teeth.

“Great. What can I get you then?”

You told him and he nodded. “Man after my own heart,” he said and ducked inside the cafe, leaving you sitting in the chill breeze wafting in from offshore and wondering how you had got so lucky. Or, more accurately, what the catch would be…

He backed out of the cafe door a few minutes later, shoving it open with his perfect arse, with a cardboard takeaway cup in each hand, a brown paper takeaway bag swinging from his wrist by the handle, and a big smile on his face. When he caught you looking curiously at it, he laughed and said, “I like my sweets, ok? Oh, my name’s Tai by the way.” He looked comically from the coffee cups and then to you and said, “Help a shark out so he can shake your hand?”

Laughing, you took your cup off him and shook his hand. His skin was rough as fine-grit sandpaper, and though the grip was prodigiously strong you got the feeling he was definitely holding back.

Taking a deep breath, you told him your name and added, “You want to stay here or go for a walk?”

Tai gazed longingly down the quiet stretch of seafront and shrugged. “Walk sounds good? As long as you don’t mind if I chow down on the way? I’m starving.”

“Course not,” you said.

“So where’d you live before coming here?” he asked as you set off. “And why the hell did you move here of all places?”

“Work,” you said. “I don’t start til next week though, so I’ve got time to kill.” You tried to sip your coffee but it was still too hot, so you went on, “I lived in the city before.”

Tai shuddered dramatically and said, “Man, I couldn’t live without the sea.”

“I’m surprised you don’t actually live in the sea,” you said. “I mean… it doesn’t bother you?”

He shot you a sidelong look and said, “They don’t have TV or Wifi in the sea. Not yet, anyway. And pizza doesn’t do too well underwater either. Pizza is life…”

You snorted and he laughed with you. You liked the way he looked at you - the way his gaze lingered at the corners of your mouth and on your eyes - and you tried not to preen under his powerful stare.

“I do swim a lot though,” he added around an enormous bite of pastry before groaning. “Oh wow. They make the best Danish there,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder and flicking crumbs onto his shirt.

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, you reached up and brushed them off for him, and his smile widened. “I hate swimming,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze. “Well, I hate the water… being surrounded by it… not knowing what’s down there…” You fought off a shudder and he nodded.

“I can see that,” he said. “No, really, I can… I mean, I’m one of the things that folks don’t tend to argue with, on land or on sea, but just coz I’ve got a mouthful of pearly whites doesn’t mean there aren’t dangers out there. Still, I try and swim every morning.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, pausing to take another bite and finish off the second croissant in the bag. “I like to race by best friends. Gotta stay sharp, you know?”

“They’re samebito like you?” you asked, trying the somewhat unfamiliar word out on your tongue. ‘Samebito’ wasn’t a word you used everyday after all.

He shook his head. “Nah, we don’t live in shoals or anything. No, Freya is a selkie and Viggo is an orca mer.”

Your eyebrows rose at that, and he chuckled another rough, happy laugh. “I know, you’d think I’d want to eat Freya, given that I’m a shark and she’s a seal - but I’m not a complete beast, I swear. We’ve been besties for years, and holy crap is she fast.” He took another sip of his coffee and groaned. “Ah that’s good. And yeah, Viggo is like a brother to me. He was involved in an accident with a fishing trawler about ten years ago, but that doesn't stop him beating me soundly almost every morning!” he laughed.

“Is he ok?” Life in the ocean seemed even more brutal than you had imagined.

Tai shrugged. “Lost his left arm and a fuck-ton of confidence, but yeah, he’s doing alright now.”

“Not all the dangers out there have teeth,” you offered quietly, turning your eyes to the relatively calm ocean on your right as you both made your way along the smooth tarmac of the seafront.

You and Tai continued to walk and chat long after he’d finished his breakfast and both of your coffee cups had been ditched in the bin. He had an odd and slightly brash sense of humour, and an open kind of confidence that drew you in and made you feel at ease around him.

The pier had all but dwindled out of sight when suddenly he glanced at his watch and cursed. “Fuck, I’ve got to be at work in ten minutes! I didn’t realise it was so late!”

“I didn’t know the club opened so early,” you ventured.

Tai shook his head. “I work part time as a swimming coach at the school on the edge of town. Got to hold down a couple of jobs if I wanna live like you landies do!” While you smiled, he added, “Listen, can I give you my number? I had fun…”

“Sure,” and in moments, the two of you had exchanged numbers and he’d promised to be in touch.

Without warning, he opened his arms and moved in for a hug before abruptly halting and asking, “Is that ok? I’m a hugger… but not everyone is…”

Shaking your head with a smile, you said, “It’s cool. Thanks though…”

The hug he gave you was polite but heartfelt, and you tried not to enjoy his looming closeness too much before he had pulled back and was jogging away with a jovial wave over his shoulder.

You watched him go, standing there for a long time with the sea breeze ruffling and messing up your hair before you followed in his wake and turned your footsteps back towards your apartment.

A few days slid by in a blur of unpacking and sorting, and getting stuff like internet and electricity contracts going, and while you were busy, you found your mind wandering back to Tai; his strong, grey hands in particular, though his muscular shoulders and arms were equally delicious. The power in his shark’s jaw must have been immense, but his smile, although toothy and broad, had been friendly and his sense of humour had kept you chuckling to yourself for days.

But there was no sign that he wanted to see you again. He didn’t call or text, and you’d sort of abandoned the idea of getting to know him better until one evening, perhaps four days after your walk along the seafront, when your phone buzzed just as you were tucking into a takeaway, with your feet up on the couch. Scrabbling around for your phone, you nearly dropped your food in your lap when you saw that the message was from Tai.

‘Hey I’m so sorry I didn’t call you,’ he began. ‘There was some drama at the club and it kind of took over my life for a bit. I know this might be super weird, but can I take you out for dinner some time? I had so much fun chatting with you the other day. Anyway, let me know either way, T x’

You weren’t used to someone being so free with their emotions and so confident about what they wanted, but it was reassuring and you replied that dinner would be great, and that you were free the next night.

‘Perfect!’ came his response. ‘Listen, I’d kind of like to surprise you, but is there anything you really wouldn’t want to do? I remember you said you didn’t like the water much so it wouldn’t involve boats or anything I promise :)!’

Anxiety did spike in your gut at the idea of a surprise date, if that was what he was suggesting, but deciding to throw caution to the wind and to start over anew here, you told him you were grateful that he remembered about your dislike of the water, and other than that, you were game for most things.

With everything sorted, he replied with a message full of emojis and exclamation marks that he was looking forward to seeing you and that he’d meet you in the centre of town the next evening since it was his night off. ‘Oh and don’t come fancy or anything - it won’t be posh…’

‘That’s… honestly a relief…’

‘Glad to hear it! See you tomorrow!!! :D x’ Again, you allowed yourself a bit of a goofy smile at the over-peppering of exclamation marks.

Wearing a smart-ish pair of jeans and your favourite t-shirt, you strode through town the next evening with a light feeling filling your chest for the first time in a long while. Things were definitely new and different here, and you just hoped that it would all turn out for the better.

A group of satyrs and fauns up ahead were laughing and joking with a pair of gnolls, the latter yipping and leaping around, and you stared openly at them as you passed, amazed at how the three species all seemed to be getting along so well. Back in the city, folks tended to let prejudices sit deeply and interactions like this would just never happen. Then again, you wouldn’t have found yourself on a date with a sharkman back in the city either.

You were still smiling to yourself about it when you saw him pacing up and down by the fountain in the middle of the square. Because of his size and unusual silhouette, he was instantly recognisable, but you supposed you were a bit ordinary and didn’t expect him to notice you until you were nearly level with him. However, he surprised you by turning his head suddenly, a little like a bird of prey, and waving expansively at you, calling your name and grinning. He had to be the most extroverted person you’d ever met.

A bit bashful, but still laughing, you joined him and he hugged you. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he drew back. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You look nice…” you added as you took in the jeans that hugged his muscular legs and made his arse look frankly incredible, and the dark blue t-shirt that seemed to bring out the blueish hues of his grey skin. In light of the street lamps in this part of town, his white markings seemed to glow, and you honestly thought he was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever laid eyes on.

“Glad you think so,” he rumbled quietly. “You wanna go? I hope you’re not afraid of heights…”

“Heights?”

He grinned down at you and said, “You’ll see. There’s plenty else to do there as well if you’re not into heights…” He sounded odd, like he was straining the point, but you let it slide. Perhaps he was as nervous as you were after all?

After a short walk across town, during which you listened to him decompressing about the drama at the club which had involved one of the patrons being harassed and some legal action being threatened, you quickly cottoned on to where he was leading you.

Music played and lights danced in the sky as you reached the fairground that had been set up on the edge of town for the harvest festival and to celebrate the end of summer. You began to laugh as he took your hand in his.

“No?” he asked, seeming to refer both to the fact that he was holding your hand and to the fair beyond. Although he had a shark’s upper body, he was still expressive and you caught the definite hint of worry in his dark blue eyes as he gazed down at you.

With a roll of your own eyes at him and a squeeze of your hand in his, you tugged him towards the fair.

“Phew,” he laughed. “You scared me for a moment there.”

“I’m sure you must go on dates all the time,” you said without really thinking, “But it’s been a while for me, ok? I just didn’t know what to expect, especially since… uh… I’ve not dated someone like you before.”

“Another guy or a shark?” he asked quietly. The sincerity in his voice was reassuring and you smiled.

“Shark,” you clarified.

“Right,” he said. “You hungry?”

“I could definitely eat,” you said. “How about there?” and you pointed to a noodle stand where a small queue was just beginning to form. It smelled amazing.

He’d just turned to look when a figure stumbled out of the haunted house ride to your right, laughing, her hand firmly held in that of the girl she was with, and when she saw Tai, she shrieked his name and practically skipped over to him, yanking the poor girl nearly off her feet.

“Freya!” he boomed, opening one arm to hug her without letting go of your hand.

“Omg!” she yipped when she saw you. “Is this him? Ah! He’s so handsome! Tai! You lucky little scrap of chum!”

You could only stand there awkwardly while Tai’s best friend cooed over the pair of you and then announced that she needed some food after the spooky ride. “You guys want to join us?” she asked brightly, her big dark eyes flitting from your face to Tai’s.

While she seemed lovely enough, you hadn’t really intended to share your date with anyone else, but to your surprise Tai immediately sensed that and said, “Uh, we were actually about to go… uh…” He gazed around and saw the ferris wheel and blurted, “Go on the wheel…”

A slow smile dawned on Freya’s face and her dark eyebrow rose. “Oh yeah?” she said. “Well don’t let me stop you, sweetheart.” And as Tai bid her and her girlfriend a good evening, you cast him a puzzled look to which he responded with a slight shake of his head.

You were still frowning curiously at him when the bar went down over your knees as you sat in the gondola, and he swallowed thickly.

“Tai?” you asked, looking up at him. Was it your imagination, or was the colouring under his chin slightly green? Perhaps it was the light of the fair below… “You ok?”

“I panicked,” he blurted.

“What?”

“I didn’t think you’d want her asking a million questions about your life just yet - I mean, I wasn’t even sure if this counted as a proper date or whatever - and so I just said the first thing that came into my mind, which was this…”

“And this is a problem because…?”

“I don’t like heights,” he said quietly as the gondola lurched backwards. “Oh gods…”

He gripped the bar so hard that you thought it was going to crumple under his strength. “Hey,” you said, reaching for his thigh and placing your palm on it. He was so tense that it was like putting your hand on a boulder. Taking advantage of the privacy of the moment, you dug your fingertips gently into the muscle. “Look at me,” you said as he stared wide-eyed into the void that was opening up beneath you.

“Freya knew,” he muttered.

“Forget her,” you chuckled. “Look at me.” And when he did, you put your other hand on his cheek and watched him heave out a gentle sigh. The gills in his neck flared wide but he leaned into your touch and laughed, the sound deep in his chest.

He leaned down and nuzzled the blunt tip of his snout against your neck. “I would kiss you,” he said gently, breath fanning across your skin, “But I can’t.”

He brought his hand to your cheek and trailed his thumb down your jaw line as he caressed you, and you felt a stirring in your cock as his fingers wandered downwards. He hadn’t even noticed that the gondola had done nearly a full rotation.

When it finally came round to getting everyone off the wheel, he seemed a lot calmer, though embarrassment had definitely washed in to replace his fear.

“Tai?” you asked as he stood near the ferris wheel with his hand on the railing, breathing deeply and steadily. “You ok?”

He laughed and shot you a sidelong look. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Just feeling a bit…”

“Queasy?”

“Foolish.”

You rapped him lightly on the bicep with the back of your fingers and grinned, “Hey, it’s nice to know that even someone like you can get a bit freaked out sometimes, you know?”

“That’s precisely the point,” he said. “I’m not used to it.”

“Ah, come on, lets have a walk,” you said, taking his hand. “Besides, I pretty much got to kiss you, so it’s not all bad.” You halted and looked up at him with mock suspicion on your face. “Unless it was all a ruse to get close to me…?”

“What? No!” he gasped, his footsteps halting. “I promise you…”

“Relax,” you said. “I was joking.”

He walked beside you for a few paces before murmuring, “You know I wouldn’t do something like that, right?”

You nodded.

Tai cleared his throat. “And actually, going back to something you mentioned earlier, I haven’t been on a lot of dates recently… or… at all.”

Now it was your turn to stop in surprise. “You’re kidding me?”

He shook his head. “Turns out apex predators give off ‘dangerous vibes’. That, and I’m nearly always working…”

“Huh,” you shrugged, still a little baffled. “I’m sorry for just assuming then…”

Tai put his arm around your shoulders and tugged you slightly off balance and into his side. “You want to go eat now?” he asked and you nodded, heading back to the noodle bar.

It was only after wandering aimlessly around the fair to walk down your food that he said, “So… did I do good?”

“With the date?” you asked and he nodded. “It’s been perfect. I honestly didn’t expect to be dating the moment I arrived in this town…”

“Did you want a break from it, or…?”

“No,” you said. “I just… didn’t look for it.”

Tai was holding your hand as the pair of you moved through the bustling, jostling people, dodging drunken revellers and excited teenagers alike. His skin was rough and cool, and his huge presence beside you in the constant ebb and flow of people was undeniably grounding.

“I guess good things just fall into your lap when you’re not expecting it,” you added.

Tai leaned low towards your ear and growled, “I wouldn’t mind having you in my lap…” and you smacked him in his solid chest, laughing. When he laughed, all his jagged teeth showed, and his eyes rolled back just a little in his head. In an odd kind of way, it was attractive, and you smiled up at him.

At a quieter corner of the fair, he paused and looked down at you. Lowering his head, he murmured, “Damn, I really wish I could kiss, you know?”

“What do samebito do instead?” you asked.

He smiled softly. “Our noses are very sensitive,” he said, and he was going to continue but he cut off suddenly when you brought your fingertips to the tip of his snout and traced a gentle circle there. A shudder ran through him and his eyes rolled back for a moment to show the whites. “Damn,” he panted. “Your touch is…” With gills flaring, he nosed you backwards until your back hit the sides of a wooden shack - the side of one of the trinket stalls perhaps - and he began to nose at your neck again.

A soft rumbling emanated from his chest and his hands wandered. He palmed your cock through your jeans and you moaned, rolling your hips a little into the touch, chasing friction. “Not here,” you gasped and he backed off, glassy eyed and nodding.

“No,” he said. “Not here.” And then he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, you look good all ruffled like that,” he said, thumbing an arc across your cheekbone where your skin was flushed hot.

Not long after that, you agreed to head home and he offered to walk you. At your door, you thanked him for an amazing evening, and touched him again on his nose, this time with your whole palm, your fingers tracing gentle lines up and down the rough skin there. His eyes rolled again and he growled.

“When can I see you again?” he asked breathlessly. Before you got the chance to answer, he had nuzzled against your neck again, and as you leaned into the contact, he parted his jaws and very gently raked his teeth across your skin. His tongue rasped over your pulse and you gasped. “Sorry,” he added as he drew back. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Wordlessly you shook your head.

He grinned. “Good. You got an answer to my question or did I chase it away…?”

With a lopsided grin, you nodded. “I start work this week, but I should have some time in the evenings?”

He growled and stepped back, frustrated. “I work most nights from about six. Would Thursday work though?”

In fact, he surprised you at lunch one day, and you managed to show up early to the club to give him a quick kiss before he began his shift, and so you snatched moments here and there when you could. He also took you out the next weekend for a meal which was amazing, and afterwards he said, “Listen, I know we’ve only been going out a short while, but I wanted to do something nice for you… are you free this weekend?”

You nodded, wary but curious. Tai laughed when he saw the expression on your face. “Don’t panic,” he said, taking your slightly clammy hand in his. “I’m not proposing to you… I promise it’s just something nice…” If sharks could do puppy dog eyes, this one would be the best at it. As it was, he just tilted his head and looked at you straight on, which kind of had a similar effect.

In what had now become an instinctual replacement for a traditional kiss, you brought your nose to his and kissed it, making him shiver as always. He really hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the skin there was sensitive, and somehow it always seemed to make him short-circuit a bit when you touched him there. “Whatever you want to do, I’m game,” you said. “I trust you, and I think you’ve got the measure of me by now…”

Scraping his mind back together again after the pleasure of your touch, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll come get you and we can go from your place.”

Wondering what it was he’d got planned filled more than a couple of your spare minutes that week, for sure.

In fact, you needn’t have worried at all. When he showed up at your door, he immediately nuzzled you and he picked you up this time. He dropped the small insulated bag he had been carrying and rumbled softly. You tilted your head back, allowing him better access to you, and he placed his massive jaw around your throat. It was unconventional as greetings went, but it was a bit more exciting than a kiss on the cheek, and you’d grown to enjoy it.

When he’d drawn back, he rasped, “I can’t believe you let me do that.”

His voice was breathless with wonder, and you laughed. “Told you I trusted you. Where are we going?”

He set you back down on your feet and asked, “You ready to go? It’s not far - maybe a five minute walk?”

You pulled the door closed behind you and stepped out into the night while he picked up his bag again and held out his other hand to you. The air was chilly, it being late October now, but the stars were perfectly clear in the inky sky above and there wasn’t a breath of wind.

“So…” he said. “You remember a while back, when I told you about some drama at the club? We had this super wealthy elven model and she got into a bit of a ‘difficult situation’ with this big guy that wouldn’t leave her alone.” You listened to him, nodded, and welcomed the growling undertone in his voice as he spoke of the incident. “So I hauled this guy off her and did that thing with my teeth…”

“What thing?”

“You know, the sharky thing where I pull my lips back…”

“Show me?” you asked, knowing full well what it was he was talking about. He knew it too, and laughed, obligingly baring his teeth at you while you short-circuited for a moment…

“Anyway, I think the guy shat his pants, and she was super grateful to me. She said that if I ever wanted a favour from her, all I had to do was ask, so…” He held up a pair of keys and jangled them softly. “I called it in… She said I could use her beach-front apartment for the night. She’s away at the moment but the doorman knows we’re coming, and she said we could help ourselves to anything in the wine cooler and make ourselves at home.” He raised the cool-bag he was carrying and added, “I prepped some dinner. So long as we don’t trash anything or burn the place down, it’s ours for the night…”

“No way,” you smiled. “That’s really sweet of her.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, she’s a real sweetheart.”

The apartment turned out to be the penthouse, and it was gorgeous. Sleek, modern, and yet cosy, you stood in the doorway behind him as he stepped inside and just looked around, struck stupid by it. “Wow,” you finally breathed.

“How the other half lives, eh?” he grinned. “Come on, let’s look around.”

You didn’t get very far before Tai’s stomach was growling and he had made his way to the super fancy kitchen to start unloading the bag of food he’d brought. It was the most amazing picnic spread, and while he set about finding bowls and plates, you wandered over to the French windows and stepped outside into the chilly night. The deck was gorgeous, and there was even a small fire pit with a log store pressed up against the wall of the flat. Ducking briefly back inside, you called, “Are there any firelighters around?”

“I told you we can’t burn the place down!” he laughed.

“There’s a fire pit… does that count?”

With a fire going in the cast iron brazier and the food nearly finished, Tai sat back in his sun lounger, careful of his dorsal fin, and smiled. “Is it too early to say I’m in love with you?” he asked in an uncharacteristically shy voice, staring up at the sky.

Something about the way he said it, and about the way he looked at you every time he saw you, made you shake your head. “No,” you murmured. “I don’t think so.”

He reached across the space between your two loungers and took your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Never thought I’d fall like this for a landie…”

“I love the way you say that word,” you snorted. “Makes us sound like Martians…”

“I can use the more formal ‘Landfolk’ if you’d prefer,” he said in a falsely haughty voice.

“No…”

“Come here,” he said. “You’re too far away.”

Stepping carefully over the remnants of the food and drink, you allowed him to tug you down into his lap and you lay back against his chest while he nuzzled idly at your neck and hair.

“You smell so good,” he groaned.

“Sharks have a good sense of smell, don’t you?” you asked.

“You have no idea…”

“Huh…” you said, hoping he couldn’t smell just how turned on you were in that moment. You didn’t want to move just yet.

Tai, however, had other ideas. He shifted and you felt the hard line of his cock beneath your ass, and he nudged his hips slightly upwards and groaned. “I want you,” he said. “But… I… ” And all his brash confidence suddenly seemed to crumble.

“What?” you asked, glancing up at him over your shoulder. He couldn’t blush, but his eyes rolled a bit and he looked away. “You think I don’t want you back? Don’t you remember how I was at the fair? I practically came in my pants like a horny teenager…”

He laughed. His jaw was noticeably slacker now, his eyes gleaming brightly in the low light of the fire. “I’m scared,” he whispered in a voice that made your heart lurch.

“Scared of what?”

“I don’t want to hurt you… We’re not… We’re not known for being gentle lovers…”

“I trust you.”

“That… That doesn’t help…” he said with an awkward chuckle. “I mean, it’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but… I’m…”

“Let me guess, you’re a biter…” you grinned and he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we can figure it out… would it help if I stayed on top? We can take it slow this time anyway…”

He gazed at you and then smiled softly, gently nudging his nose into your hand as you raised it to ‘kiss’ him. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured into your palm, tenderly licking a little stripe over it and then up your fingers.

In little more than a few minutes you were both naked, and you got to see him properly for the first time. The patch of white began under his chin at his jaw and moved down his neck to his chest and stomach, tapering down as if to draw attention to his hardening cock. He was beautiful, and big, his tip already glistening as he watched you watching him. “Fuck,” he cursed, reaching for you. “Look at you…”

You sat back down astride him, your own cock pressed against his as you took him in your hand and rolled your hips. He threw his head back and clutched the arms of the lounger, letting out a deep, earthy growl. His hips lurched upwards as you continued to stroke him slowly, rocking your own body against him until the pair of you were slick and desperate.

His chest began to heave and as you scraped your blunt nails down his pecs and over the ridges of his abs, he opened his jaw and showed all his teeth as he began to pant rapidly.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” he moaned, leaning forwards again and enjoying the sight of you working his cock and your own in your hand at the same time. Pre-come spilled down his length as he twitched and gasped, bucking into the tightness of your grip, and he began to growl again.

“I’m… I’m close,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, I’m so close already…” His jaws closed with a loud clack and his eyes rolled back to show the whites as he suddenly spilled over his chest and abs, his body rocking and convulsing as he came with a muted bellow.

A few seconds later and you followed him, falling forwards onto his messy chest as white heat thundered through you. He was still twitching and gnashing his powerful jaws together, eyes still rolled back, cock pulsing in your hand.

You watched him as he came down from his peak, and you couldn’t resist rocking your hips once more against his spent and sensitive cock. He grunted and his eyes rolled back to look at you.

Tai swallowed and then croaked, “I haven’t come like that in a long time…”

“Me neither,” you grinned. “You want to see what the bathroom’s like in this place?”

After a few more minutes to catch his breath, he said, “Hold on,” and you gripped him round the waist as he stood up and carried you through the apartment, pausing every now and again to nuzzle at your neck and scrape his teeth lovingly over your shoulder. When you finally made it to the bathroom, it was a while before you actually emerged, eventually clean…

—

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[megahologram]

Protective | Rick Grimes

Warning(s): cursing, mentions of blood, violence, kissing (if that counts as a warning)

°•○●○•°

"Carl, we shouldn't be doing this" you exclaimed as he started climbing up the walls of Alexandria. It had been a little over two months since your group arrived here. You met Rick's group back at the prison. Daryl had found you during one of his runs and brought you back. Once you got there, Rick had asked you three questions and by the looks of you, you seemed to have passed his test as he let you in. Carl and you have been friends every since. You both had the same taste in almost everything and got along well. Both you and Beth had also become good friends, taking care of Judith together. After the fall of the prison, you were on your own for a while until you found Tyreese, Carol and Judith. Being in Alexandria after being out there for so long felt weird. Rick's instructions were very clear, no one leaves the walls. But lately it felt as if that rule only applied to you. He wouldn't let you go on supply runs with the others, giving you other tasks like working in the garden or babysitting Judith. Hell, he even let Carl go out one in a while. Why did he have to act so protective with you only. 

"y/n get over yourself, do you really want to be stuck behind these walls forever like these people." Carl did have a point. You hated being behind the walls, it made you feel useless, weak. Like you were forgetting everything that was on the other side. It had been almost 2 months since you killed a walker, you never feared to kill one before but right now, you couldn't help feel overwhelmed. One part of you was saying to go with Carl and the other part was saying to follow Rick's orders.

"if you're just going to stand there on your ass all day, then I'm leaving without you" Carl said as he jumped down the walls onto the other side. "okay, I'm coming with you, hold on" you quickly replied making sure to check your surroundings before climbing up.

Carl had done this plenty of times with Enid and sometimes on his own. You never once had the guts to go with him but today since you had nothing else to do and since Enid was busy with other plans, Carl insisted on you coming with him.

As your fell on your feet with a loud thud you look over to find Carl, seeing as he had already started walking without you. You were quick on your feet as you slung your backpack over your shoulders and caught up to him on time. "So, where are we going" you asked, suddenly feel the heat of the sun hit you.

"to kill some walkers, I know a place that's got a few not far from here. You need to practice" he replied as you nodded your head. It was about a ten-minute walk as you got closer, you noticed an old jeep, with what looked like a camp site. There was an old tent with a few clothes and other stuff scattered around.

Carl pulled you behind a tree as you both look in front of you, there was about 5 walkers there, and maybe a few inside the tent as you saw it was moving. Carl looked over at you, holding his knife in his hand as you got out yours. "I'll go first, you follow behind, alright" he whispered as you gave a quick nod as he started moving forward, with you just behind his trail.

As you took a few steps, clearly visible, the walkers turned their head, quickly making their way over to both of you. Carl got closer as he took the knife and stabbed the walker on the head. He continued with a few as he pushed two onto the ground, giving you the opportunity. You took a deep breath as you got rid of all your nerves, squeezing the dagger around your hand, you quickly flung it across the head, right between the walker's eyes. As you finished, you looked over at Carl saying, "I'll take the ones in the tent" He hesitated for a moment but soon agreed, standing behind you protectively as you made your way to the tent.

You didn't know how many were in there, by the sound of it, there had to be more than two. You slowly reached out, pulling the zipper and opening the tent. As soon as you opened it, you quickly fell backwards, as a walker had launched itself at you. You look over to see there were 4 more inside the tent. A few making their way over to Carl, as a few made their way over to you. You had dropped your knife in the process, as you held your hand around the walker's neck, pushing it away from you as best as you could. Carl was too distracted killing the ones in front of him as you frantically reached over your holster around your waist, trying to find your second knife. You didn't have a gun on you since you would've had to check it out. As you had grabbed a hold of your knife, about to stab the walker on the head, a gun shot was heard and the walker fell right on you.

You quickly pushed the creature off of you and look at Carl, he still had his knife in his hand, the walkers were all dead. As you turn your head, you see Rick in the distance, with a gun in his hand and Daryl behind him, his crossbow in his hand. Rick looked angry, really angry and you couldn't help but feel nervous. You didn't know what he was going to say or do. "come on" he said calmly yet firmly, his teeth gritting as you can tell he was trying his best not to explode.

Carl reached his hand out to help you, in which you grab as he helps lift you off the ground. He quickly checks you for any scratches or bite marks. When he sees that you were clear you both turn around following behind the two men. "we're dead" you replied, as Carl chuckled quietly, "more like your dead. If my dad doesn't kill you himself, I will. The first time I decide to bring you with me and we get caught." You laughed as you playfully punched the side of his shoulder. You couldn't help but agree with him.

This was the first time ever that you had decided to sneak out and you both get caught. You curse at your luck as you reach the gates of Alexandria. "Daryl and I are going hunting but don't think that you're off the hook. Carl, I already knew about you sneaking over the walls for a while, but I did not appreciate you convincing y/n to tag along with you. Your both in big trouble." Rick said as he told Sasha to open the gates.

You and Carl both made your way to his house, even though you lived with Daryl and Carol, you were in Carl's house most of the time. "I can't believe he knew" Carl exclaimed as you both stepped inside the house. "I mean I don't understand why he didn't say anything earlier"

"maybe he just didn't care I guess" you said, going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"I mean I guess that's why, he probably thinks I can take care of myself, so he didn't have to worry" You chocked on your water at his statement. "excuse me, what are you trying to say. That I can't take care of myself" you replied rather loudly as you took offence. "I didn't say that, I'm saying maybe my dad doesn't trust you to be outside"

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Carl had never made you feel as if you were weak or couldn't take care of yourself. In fact, he was the one who always insisted on you going with him. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that Rick never trusted you. He always made sure you never left outside the walls, even before Alexandria, you realized how he almost never let you go out on supply runs. And in the rare chances you did, you were accompanied by a bunch of people. The thought suddenly made you angry. Why did he not trust you, you were a lot older than Carl. You were twenty, you were an adult. Hell, if you were in Canada, you'd be able to drink by now. You couldn't understand why he let his own son go out but not you.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard your name, "y/n, did you hear me"

You shook your head quickly as you replied, "no sorry what did you say",

"I said, do you wanna read comics or something, before my dad comes with his huge lecture"

"um no, I'm gonna go home and get cleaned up" you reply, as you quickly make your was through the door.

"okay but you better come back, I ain't about to hear his lecture alone" Carl shouted to which you shout back with, "yeah yeah whatever" giving him the finger as a little smirk fell on your lips, "y/n I'm serious"

You laugh a little as you made your way through the door. "anyone home" you shout as you took your shoes off, making your way upstairs. You knew Daryl wasn't home but you weren't sure about Carol. When you didn't get a reply back, you assumed she was probably back at Carl's taking care of Judith. As you make your way to your room, you quickly strip off your dirty clothes that smelt like walker blood and grabbed your towel. You head to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it, you get in the shower. The warm water felt amazing and it still was insane to think you had necessities like these.

An hour later (jk lol) 20 minutes later, you got out of the shower, unlocking the door and making your way to your bedroom. You walk in, closing the door behind you and locking it. Turning back around you slightly jump as you see a figure sitting down on your bed. You relax once you realize it was Rick but yet again panic as you see your appearance. A towel wrapped around your naked body. Your wet hair dripping down on the floor. You stood there in shock as you didn't know what to say. "um can I help you"

Rick looked up, his body twitching slightly as he took in your appearance. His eyes falling down your body and right back up into your eyes. "u-uh I-I needed to talk to you, I can wait downstairs" you nodded as you opened the door for him.

You couldn't help but blush as you closed the door behind you, taking in what just happened. You have had a crush Rick ever since you met him. Everything about him, from his leadership skills to his appearance was perfect to you. You always hid these feelings for the fact that Carl was your best friend, and he probably wouldn't appreciate his best friend having feelings for his dad. In other sense, he was also much, much older than you. You knew it would've been weird if other people found out and in other case, he didn't feel the same way about you. He probably only viewed you as a little girl and Carl's friend.

Shaking all your thoughts out of your head, you opened your wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. You most likely wouldn't leave the house unless you decide to go to Carl's, so you throw a pair of your jean shorts and a worn out NASA t-shirt that Michonne got you the other day on her run. Combing through your wet hair quickly, you ran downstairs into the living room. You see Rick sitting on the couch waiting for you. As he turned looking at you, he patted the seat beside his. You hesitantly walked over and sat beside him.

The room fell into uncomfortable silence, as either of you didn't know how to start the conversation. After a few minutes, he starts "I'm really disappointed in you, y/n". You furrow your eyes together, looking at him in complete confusion. You knew what he was talking about, you just didn't think it was fair.

"I'm sorry, can you please explain to me what I did wrong" you reply rather sarcastically, angry evident in your voice.

"you went over the walls, even after my clear instructions that I told you not to" he said back, shifting his body facing your as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"last time I checked, you're not my dad nor are related to me in any way. I don't have to do what say. And guess what, I'm not going to either. I'm sick and tired of you treating me like a little kid, like I don't know what I'm doing, like I've never seen a walker in my entire life. I've been out there as long as you have, I've been on my own too. I can take care of myself, so I don't need 'instructions' for you. You may be the leader of the group but you ain't the boss of me." Your chest rose up and down as you caught your breath. You shocked yourself at your sudden explosion, never have you ever spoken so loudly to anyone and for the first time in your life, it had to be Rick.

You stood up, turning around, ready to leave and end this conversation when you felt a hand on your wrist, turning you around and pulling you roughly against a hard chest. You look up to see Rick, his firm grip on you got a little tighter as he clenched his jaw. From the look on his face, it was obvious he was angry, you tried puling away from his grip, but it only held your wrist tighter.

"You can take care of yourself? You would've died if I didn't get there on time. You couldn't even kill one damn walker, and your talking about taking care of yourself. y/n why do you have to be so god damn stubborn, can't you see I'm just trying to protect you. I don't want you getting hurt...or worse" His voice got lower by each sentence he spoke. And the last part, was barely a whisper.

You looked into his eyes in confusion, "you don't have to worry about me, just worry about Carl and Judith"

"But that's the problem, can't you see. I worry about you all the time, it's so damn frustrating. I can't get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try. Your all I think about all day and night. Your on my mind constantly. I-I just I don't know what's wrong with me" He stuttered a little, his words full of emotion. It felt as if he was keeping all this in for a long time.

His grip on your wrist released as your hands fell to your sides, "it's because you care about me right" you whisper, unsure of what to say. You can feel his hands go to your back, lowering them to your waist, pulling you closer to him, as you place your hands on his chest at the sudden movement. You lift your head up to see him already look down at you, your faces inches apart. "I don't think that's the only reason" he whispers back, his gaze falling to your lips every now and then.

You fell your heart beating faster as you see him leaning in, and sooner you realize yourself leaning in as well. You fluttered your eyes closed, just as your lips barely touch each other's, you seconds away from your first kiss with Rick, you hear the front door slam shut.

The noise causing both you and Rick to quickly pull apart as you felt yourself fluster. You turn to see Daryl, walking past the living room only to stop when he noticed you and Rick awkwardly standing there in the middle of the living room. Both of you turning red, blushing like crazy as you just nervously played with your hands.

Daryl raised his eyebrow, confusion written on his face. "did I miss something"

"NO" both you and Rick shout, rather loudly you would say.

"alright, whatever, I'm going to bed" Daryl says, ignoring your odd behaviour as he made his way upstairs "Carol crashed at Rick's so she probably won't be here until morning" you hear Daryl shout along with a door closing.

What the hell just happened You thought as you nervously looked over at Rick, who was already staring at you. A minute of just staring at each other, without any words exchanged, you lift your gaze somewhere else, realizing you should probably excuse yourself out of this awkward situation. "um I-I'm going head to bed" you say as you make your way upstairs.

You hear the front door close, turning your head to see Rick had left. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. What the fuck just happened you thought.

You tried getting some sleep that night but couldn't. The situation replaying inside your head like a loop. What would've happened if Daryl hadn't walked in You thought

You signed as you got out of bed, heading downstairs and to your front porch. Back before all this happened, you used to sit outside at night on days you couldn't sleep. Just breathing in the fresh air, gave you a sense of peace. You sat on the steps, looking around at the empty road. It had to be around 2 in the morning, all the lights in the houses were closed. Your eyes fell upon one particular house, Carl's. The lights to the living room were on, your gaze falling upstairs, you notice the rest of the house's lights were turned off. It could be Carl, Rick or Michonne still up.

Hoping it was Carl, you started making your way over to his house. You didn't bother to knock, not wanting to wake any of the others up. Slowly opening the door, you quietly stepped inside, closing the door behind you before making your way towards the living room. You walk in, looking around to find it was empty. Just as you were about to turn around to leave, a figure launched itself at you, the person holding a knife in their hands, ready to use it. You let out a blood curdling shriek, only for it to be stopped by a hand placed over your mouth, stopping any sound from coming through. You look up to see it was Rick, he lowered the knife once he saw it was you.

"what the hell are you doing here" he whisper yelled at you, lowering his hand that was on your mouth.

"I-I uhh I d-don't kn-" you stuttered.

"how do you not know why your here" he whispered again, confusion on his face.

You had no answer to his question. You don't know yourself what brought you here. "I couldn't sleep and saw the lights open so I hoped if it was Carl so then I could just hang out for a while-" Your words lost track, if was partially the truth. You just left out the major part where you had hoped it was Rick.

"well Carl's sleeping in his room. So I think you should just l-"

"can I just say here" you asked quickly, cutting him off.

"uhh yeah I guess" he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You sat on the couch, him sitting beside you. Oh how this felt so ironic You thought as the same thing happened a few hours ago.

"why weren't you asleep" you asked, not wanting the awkward silence to return like last time.

"just had something on my mind" he replied, his head falling back on the couch.

Mimicking him, you turn your head over to your side facing him as he returned the gesture. "how was hunting" you asked casually.

"okay, found a few squirrels, but that was about it"

A few minutes of silence went by, but it was comfortable this time. "I'm sorry.....about going over the walls. I just wanted to prove to you that I can protect myself" you whispered, lowering your gaze, ashamed of your confession.

You see he moved closer, his hand moving to the side of your jaw, lifting your head to face him. Your eyes fell on his, to see he was already looking at you. "baby, I know  you can protect yourself. Your one of the strongest people I know. I just lost too many people that I get over protective sometimes. I can't lose you too. I love you"

You felt yourself getting wet as he called you baby and your heart skipped a beat when he said he loved you. You didn't know  what to say, other than lean in for a kiss.

He was shocked at first, but soon melted into the kiss, placing both his hands on your cheek, making the kiss more passionate. You hadn't kissed a lot of people in your life but the way Rick kissed you was full of love, not lust. It felt like he wanted to show you just how much he cares, how much he loves you.

Your hands fell on his waist, pulling him closer as you fell back on the couch, laying down. You continued on the kiss as you moved your hands to the back of his neck as his lowered to your waist.

You wanted to kiss him forever, but your lungs forbid you to do so, causing you both to pull away. Rick leaned his forehead on yours. You both smiled at each other as you breathe in the air. "I love you too" you reply, causing him to pull you in for another kiss.

Though it was cut short when you heard a voice, "what the fucks going on here"

Both you and Rick turned your heads to see Carl standing by the corner of the hallway.

[nyrator]

another long vent post about depression/anxiety

extremely depressed tonight

first made the mistake of driving myself to the grocery store at 6pm, first I had to try scraping the ice off the windshield with nothing but a broom and bare hands, then driving itself was nightmareish, the car feels like a death trap to me, very loose and sloppy compared to my last car, so loud and uncomfortable with no audible music to calm my nerves. My eyes have worsened to the point where I can’t see anything at night- glare takes up my whole vision, even with anti-glare shades. I was driving well below the speed limit the entire time and still almost hit three pedestrians who were all recklessly out on the roads in all black for whatever reason. My nerves are completely shot from it, my chest feels like I’m in a vice and can’t breathe, my eyes are wide open and hunched over the steering wheel, and my body feels both like I’m about to wet myself at any moment and that I’m too stiff/tense/frozen to function as a human at all, it’s that fight-or-flight response at its extreme. Meanwhile, my skin must be weak- my knuckles bleed when driving, and my wrists bled just from carrying in bags of groceries.

then getting home and just dealing with personal drama of someone I know who is so depressed and self destructive and too smart to reason with, who refuses/is unable to seek professional help, who just doesn’t understand or just can’t help venting to me nonstop, no matter how much I beg them not to over and over- their life is so terrible that suicide seems like the only option to them, and I don’t want them to do so, but I can’t keep suffering like this either and I feel like the only thing preventing them from doing so, as poor a job as I do as a human being anyway. But I can’t help them if they can’t help themselves, even if they were just ate a bit better, or just had a journal or someone anonymous they could talk to, but it seems inescapable and impossible to change anything and all we do is argue over it until I snap at them to leave me alone. That person is probably reading this right now and probably hating it, but I doubt anyone on this site even knows who they are.

Tuesday morning, I couldn’t sleep at all from anxiety- it was so severe and inescapable, I laid in bed for four hours feeling like I was dying until I was finally able to sleep for two hours. I can’t seem to stay asleep longer than two hours anymore. Was supposed to hang out with friends that day, but between lack of sleep, depression, and my absolute terror at driving in a snowstorm, I ended up just staying home.

Anxiety has gotten so bad again. I know a lot of how the mechanics work behind it, I know a lot of pains are from tension and lack of breathing. But my old coping mechanisms don’t work anymore. I can focus on breathing for several minutes straight and then fall right back into suffocating. Music, counting things, meditating, none of it helps anymore.

One way to describe the feeling of anxiety- it’s kind of like when you fall asleep on your arm, and you feel all the blood rushing back into it and that tingling sensation. Imagine that, maybe a bit less, but throughout your entire body (especially chest), your body is stiff and not numb, and your entire body is vibrating or shivering/shaking or something.

I still spend 16+ hours laying in bed every single day. When I got home from shopping, the walking around (and the stress of driving) was enough to send me straight to bed, I was so tired and weak. It’s probably why I don’t sleep properly, I’m half awake in bed all the time, what need is there for sleep

I have mail I haven’t opened, taxes I still have to do, messes to clean, and don’t care for any of it. Can’t even talk about some things I’ve been doing to myself out of spite or general depression, the way I’ve been abusing. I promise to try not to do anything too crazy or directly harmful, but even then I worry about slipping up- I tried one thing I shouldn’t talk about, which wasn’t too serious, but still seriously concerning how easy it was to try doing

still haven’t contacted a therapist, my fear of calling someone is so strong I can’t overcome it, especially not after just waking up. Talked to some friends, some agree that I should, at least one thinks it’s a waste of time and money- up to $125 per session to just get a glorified phone call thanks to covid restrictions. I just don’t see the point if I’m still stuck in my apartment at my computer, especially if I have an internet addiction already.

The lack of doing anything is driving me insane, I think. I’ve played four single player games in 2020- ACNH, KH MoM, Panel de Pon, and Picross. In terms of things watched on my own, probably just Japan Sinks and whatever else was on Netflix the few months I had it. Don’t feel motivated to play or watch anything anymore, nothing seems interesting, and mostly just do things with friends if at all

Even ACNH, the game I play the most, I barely do anything in it- mostly just get new items from stores, that’s it. My island decorating has come to a hard halt, mostly because I barely have any furniture I’d like to embellish it with, and mainly because I have no ideas to layout most of it

I want to create, but don’t have the energy to make anything at all. Rotten Nyan is still my current goal, but anxiety has made it next to impossible to work on. I’ve tried several times the past few weeks, all met with failure- the anxiety’s too much, half the time I don’t even know what’s causing it, but my body just gets too tense and cramped without even doing anything, and I just can’t breathe at all while working on it.

Thought about making an omake comic for it, then realized what a terrible idea it was, and how hard it is to draw comics in general. Or anything in general. Wrote down the entire comic while laying in bed one day, went to draw it, was unable to, tried making it a yonkoma, gave up, and felt sick thinking of all the gross things in it that I just made a vent description of Middle Lave and just posted that to the RN tumblr instead.

I can’t think of any ideas, I feel like my art has regressed- I’ve taken more shortcuts for the sake of my hands tensing so fast from anxiety, and I’ve gotten decent at drawing middle Lave I feel, but anything besides a character standing is impossible for me- any environments or character interactions that I’d love to do just feel impossible, let alone my inability to write good ones. Anything I try to think of writing-wise always ends up the same gross content that burned into my memories that I just can’t feel comfortable talking about much at all, nor do I think it’s content people want to see at all.

There’s a lot of detailed kind of art I’d like to do. I kind of want to loosen my restrictions on myself and just draw whatever suffering I feel like, maybe once I use the RN twitter more I might get a little more courage to do so. I see many artists draw detailed scenes in single images, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t capture that feeling.

Part of me feels torn about it being an autobiography for people to relate to, and being a suffering experience for people to find some weird enjoyment out of. I feel like I’ve lost sight of what it was originally meant to be and now just enjoy “bullying” Middle Lave half the time I guess, but unfortunately for me, bullying makes me feel like vomiting and is hard to draw consistently- maybe I’m too nice. I don’t know, I’m just rambling at this point. The comic is still laid out and just meant to explore the life of Lave, but it’s just so hard to work on.

In terms of other things, I have no idea what to do

Vtuber/streaming? Hate my voice, can’t focus on learning what I need for it in terms of rigging and texturing models. I only know the basics of making 3D things and nothing else.

Console art? I already designed all the ones I’m mainly interested in, but like I mentioned before, can’t think of any character interactions at all that I feel like drawing.

Making a game? I know 2k3 well enough to make anything in it event-wise, though never got over my map failings, and I can’t commit to anything long-term. Godot or another program, or programming in general? Good luck.

I just want to make something, work on a project without losing steam or letting anxiety prevent me from learning. Can’t focus on anything long enough to learn it- Japanese, making a game, programming, a new hobby, anything. I just don’t have the drive to do anything and will give up anything I even try to start, so what’s the point in even trying anything. I have books I haven’t read that I’ve been meaning to read for years, and still don’t have an ounce of energy to want to even organize them on their shelf, let alone open it

At the very least, I got my first big commission (second one ever), designing an OC for someone, and it’s going well, though tonight I’ve lost steam to finish it, and I hope I can get it back tomorrow to try to finalize it.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I really wish I just had someone guide me with art- I miss doing those 30 day challenge kind of things, or “send a number/emoji” kind of asks for OCs, but tumblr’s so inactive that I don’t see them on my dash anymore, and don’t know how to even look for them, especially not on sites like twitter these days. Though, the problem is, no one knows exactly what I like, and I feel awful letting people down if they ask for something I don’t want to draw

I can’t focus on exercise long term, and I’m so out of practice that exhaustion is too strong to beat. I’ve been trying to walk up and down on a step stool for exercise to get me back into basic movement, but even that’s too tiring. Want to do it while watching something, then I realize, I don’t watch anything at all, not even youtube, just an occasional artist stream that I mainly chat with rather than watch

I feel like I’m going to collapse if I turn or move too suddenly, and my eyes are absolutely terrible- glasses are okay, but without them I’m completely blind now- not just blind, but it’s like my eyes see at two different angles sometimes, like one is slanted or something, very disorientating.

It’s 7:30AM, and no desire to sleep at all. Terrified of laying in bed and letting anxiety take over me again. Part of me wants to become completely nocturnal and just avoid everyone during the day and just respond to messages in the AM hours, just wake up at midnight each day and avoid dealing with people. Go to sleep when everyone starts to get active and just isolate myself entirely from society.

I feel like I exist with no purpose whatsoever, and it’s driving me insane- not that life is meant to have a purpose, but I could at least be doing something more than laying in bed all day every day for a year

[josiebelladonna]

to anyone out there nervous about nanowrimo this year, this is my 4th time doing it (technically 4th - 3rd if you’re going by the actual site and not my own stats), and this is my thought process with each year:

2017: i’m scraping by to even so much as pay my electric bill because i’m living with someone who’s a complete mooch and wastes money like it’s nothing. i’ll eat anything. i don’t know if i can live here anymore. i don’t want to live here anymore - yeah, i was saying “i hate it here” well before anyone bitching about how bad this year is even so much as thought it. i don’t even know if i can do it? it’s for chris, though, i have to do it. i live in the middle of nowhere and i feel a nuclear missile pointed at my head. i need to tell the story of black rain, the song i heard in 2010 and it gave me hope for the future. fuck capitalism and fuck you for enforcing it. cry on black rain. (i wound up writing something like 110k words in that first draft because of that pressure 🔥)

2018: i’m alone in my room most of the time because while that person quit being an issue in december of last year, my mom works full time. i need a hug because i’ve been alone so long and i feel like no one appreciates me for my efforts, or anything really - i can’t just “exist”. i want my daddy. i wanna meet lars. i just want to kiss a boy so i’m telling the story of a girl who messes around with boys who turn into creatures. i’ll see if i can finish it before i visit my dad and if i don’t i’ll finish it there. i’m naming it after the fact that i do my best and most honest work not just under gun but later in the day and in the middle of the night, too. (i hit 50k on the 21st, the night before thanksgiving and while i was at my dad’s house no less! and that one ended up going to 140-odd thousand in mid-january 😎)

2019: i’m on a roll, bitches! i found literally the cutest boy who’s a complete clean slate which baffles me because he’s so hot and cute and sweet and humble and looks like me (his name is joey, by the way). he’s become my muse of sorts in the past few months alone. he’s in a band that does a song called “now it’s dark” which is one of the most erotic things i’ve ever heard in my life. they’re all into sci-fi and comics and so am i! this one’s for them and i’m naming this after that sexy song, too. lars, too, he’s gotta have his heroic moment at some point. (once again, 50k on the 21st and volume one went to... 97k, if i remember correctly? i had signed and sealed it on black friday, the day before november ended. but then i kept going to write two more volumes 🔥)

2020: i’m watching the world blow up outside my window. everyone’s experiencing the exact same dark shit i went through growing up, also my depressions in 2012, 2013, and also three years ago - everything down to the “fuck capitalism and fuck you for enforcing it” even. oh, yeah, remember that boy i was talking about? yeah... apparently he’s... kind of a fan of me now, hehehehe. i’ve also ascended to “bad girl” status to a degree: i do what i damn well please even if it makes me look dangerous and i’m not afraid to put a bitch in her (or his) place. this one is going to be like now it’s dark but with far more humor involved and the story’s radically different; they were scenes and snippets i wrote whilst writing now it’s dark to keep my sense of humor intact. part one’s already written; imma do part two for this year. it’s coming hot on the heels of an intense october for me: take your pick from betrayals left and right to people just being difficult to be around. everyone’s so acrimonious right now and i fucking hate it. i need a laugh (no offense to tiktok, but i need something that’ll last). i need a hug. i need a laugh and a hug. (i’ve got the words inside me. my notes at my side. finally a rouse of people around me. we shall see.😘)

[rufousnmacska]

Museum Day

A modern manorian au request

Part 1

Part 2

“Don’t give yourself a headache.”

Manon looked up from the microscope and rubbed her eyes, giving them a moment to adjust. The preparation work on this fossil was so delicate she needed the scope to see properly. Fossil prep was tedious and could definitely cause headaches, but she enjoyed it. Seeing something spring to life out of the rock matrix was rewarding, even if it took a long time. And the work was quiet, meditative. The only bad part was that she wasn’t getting paid. It was her day off yet she was at the museum, volunteering in this lab for the boost to her university applications.

“I’m almost done for the day,” she told Ghislaine.

Asterin had met Ghislaine a couple of years ago. Manon was still unsure how, but when her cousin found out Ghislaine was a paleontologist at the museum, she’d brought her to the next Blackbeak family dinner. It took almost a year for her to get Manon a job there, what with reduced funding and not many openings. Once she got in, Manon made sure to spread the word that she wanted to learn anything and everything. Most of her spare time was spent helping out in labs and with exhibits.

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow? Like, work work?” Ghislaine asked, standing up to stretch. She rubbed her eyes too and groaned. “I don’t know what’s worse. The scope or the computer.”

“At least I don’t need reading glasses yet, old lady,” Manon teased, trying to get a few more particles free from the ammonite.

“Oh hey,” Ghislaine said innocently. “Look at this.”

Manon turned to find Ghislaine giving her the finger and she snorted. “I’m only a few years behind you. Soon you can throw it back in my face.”

“I will. But for now, I’m leaving. Which means you are too. It’s Friday and I need a drink. What’s Asterin doing tonight? Want to have her meet us?”

Manon finished the section she was working on and cleaned up her area. “I think she’s free.” As Ghislaine texted Asterin, Manon gathered her things. She caught her reflection in a glass case and frowned. Quickly, so Ghislaine wouldn’t see, she redid her braid and told herself it was because it was falling in her face.

A few minutes later, as they walked through the main dinosaur hall, she repeated that excuse in her head. But it didn’t matter. She knew it was a lie. She knew it the moment she saw Dorian sitting in front of an exhibit at the other end of the room. The moment her heart jumped against her chest.

It had been a few weeks since that nightmare of a tour. Only, it hadn’t really been a nightmare. Another lie she told herself. She couldn’t get him out of her head. Hadn’t been able to, really, since the night they’d first met. But seeing him here, in the light of day, brought him front and center in her mind.

Since then, Dorian had been back to the museum eight times. Sometimes with his brother, sometimes on his own. Not that she was counting. The first time he’d just waved hello from afar, not coming to talk to her. And that’s how it went, her disappoint growing with each sighting. Whether she was giving a tour or not, if she saw him, he waved and went about his business. What his business here was, she didn’t know.

“Are you okay?”

Manon realized she’d stopped to stare at him.

“I’ve seen him around a lot lately,” Ghislaine said, casting an appreciative eye towards Dorian. “Do you know him?”

“Yes,” she admitted, though she refused to go into detail when Ghislaine pressed her. His back was to them, so she could have easily kept walking. Instead, she said, “You go ahead. Tell Asterin I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Ghislaine very politely said nothing, but her devilish grin made Manon laugh. “Okay. Have a good night.”

She waited til her friend was out of sight and started towards Dorian. He was sitting on a bench, bent over something in his lap. As she approached, he sat up and stared at the skeleton on display in front of him.

“Deinonychus,” she said, by way of greeting. “The velociraptor in Jurassic Park was based off this guy.”

Dorian twisted slowly around, his face comically bemused. “Was nothing in that movie accurate? No feathers. Fake velociraptor. The T. rex chasing down a car. Everything I knew is a lie.”

With a heavy sigh, that didn’t cover up her laugh, Manon sat down next to him. She was surprised to find a sketchbook in his lap and a bag overflowing with art supplies on the floor next to him. He winked and said hello then went back to his drawing.

The page held different renditions of the skeleton, rough outlines of various poses and movements that he’d imagined from the skeleton. But he was working on a full color reproduction of the dinosaur as it would have looked in real life. Pulling a bright green colored pencil from the bunch he clasped in one hand, he started to add foliage around the deinonychus.

Manon watched, silent and amazed by his talent. She had seen scientists make sketches of fossils and anatomy, but she didn’t know anyone who could bring a creature to life so easily. It looked effortless. Of course she knew that it wasn’t. Even for someone born with natural artistic talent, it took plenty of time and hard work to get good and stay good.

Noticing his hand had stopped, she looked up to find him smiling at her. Oh no, she thought. I’m screwed. She almost laughed out loud. Too late, that already happened.

“So what is your favorite exhibit?” she asked, hoping the catch in her voice wasn’t that obvious.

He looked at her for a second before saying, “Currently I have four, and I can’t decide between them. Maybe, dinner in exchange for your professional opinion on which one I should choose?”

Manon glanced back to his sketchbook. It was large and worn, and it looked like he was more than half way through it. “Deal,” she said. “Only if you show me the rest of your work.”

A grin lit up his face and she couldn’t help but return it. “Oh, that was already included in the dinner,” he said, bending to stuff everything into his bag. She wondered how anything survived the process.

“So you woo women with your dinosaur drawings?” she teased.

“Only one woman,” he said, giving her a heated look that she felt deep down through her chest. Then he leaned in, conspiratorially, and said, “I think I might have a chance with her.”

Manon closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Let’s go, witchling,” he said, pulling her up. “I know a good burger place a few streets down.”

*****

The restaurant wasn’t far, and even though that placed it in the central part of the city, it had an air of seclusion Dorian liked. It didn’t hurt that Gavriel’s brother Lorcan owned it, ensuring some amount of privacy.

It hadn’t happened to him often, but just one encounter with the city’s paparazzi had been too many. Dorian learned quickly how to avoid them - he rarely ever discussed anything important with his mother. She and her friends were of the opinion that only the lower classes bothered with trashy gossip sites. Of course, he was almost positive her friends were the ones selling their secrets. His mother knew it. There was no way she couldn’t. But as long as she had money to buy things and travel wherever she wanted in luxury, she didn’t care. Her bank account was her main interest these days.

The streets were crowded and it was starting to rain, so he and Manon walked quickly to the restaurant. Lorcan wasn’t behind the bar, but Dorian knew the waiter so they got a booth in the back corner. After he took their drink orders, they sat in awkward silence.

“So when did you-”

“How did you-”

They both spoke at once, and then stopped. Dorian motioned for her to go ahead.

“How did you learn to draw so well? Are you a professional artist?”

He pulled the sketchbook he’d been using out of his bag and handed it to her. “As promised,” he said, smiling as she eagerly began flipping through the pages. “I took art classes in high school, and I’ve had a couple in college. But I’m in my final year of architecture. So, not a professional.”

Not looking up, she shrugged and said, “That’s artistic. I’d say it qualifies.”

He couldn’t help feeling a burst of pride at her expression each time she turned a page. Most of the sketches were a mess. Quick impressions of displays and objects from the museum - an assortment of skulls, artifacts, taxidermy, and sketches of the building’s architecture. Only the last few pages held more complete drawings done in color instead of pencil. But she took her time, examining every detail.

“I recognize almost everything in here,” she said, her eyes finally leaving the book to meet his. “This is amazing. You’re really talented.”

“Thanks,” Dorian said, feeling a slight warmth creep over his cheeks. He was used to receiving compliments. As a Havilliard, he’d learned at a young age that most of them were fake, usually given with the hope of some kind of favor in return. Manon looked and sounded so genuine, and it felt so refreshing, that he wondered when he’d last been given real praise.

When they ordered food, the waiter made the mistake of questioning Manon’s choice of medium rare for her burger, thinking she might be grossed out by any blood. The look she gave the poor guy was beyond lethal. He hoped to never be on the receiving end of that stare. or, maybe a part of him did, he thought, realizing his pulse was racing. The waiter left and she turned to see him holding back laughter.

“What? I like red meat,” she said, still annoyed. “The bloodier, the better.”

Dorian held his hands up. “I didn’t say anything. Besides, I-”

Just then, his phone started to ring. It was the ringtone he had for Hollin, otherwise, he would have ignored it. And since Hollin only texted and rarely called...

“Sorry, I should get this,” he said. “It’s my brother.”

“Sure,” she said, sensing his tension and moving to stand. “Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

As he answered, he shook his head and she sat back down. “Hollin? What do you-”

Before he could finish, Hollin started rattling on so fast, Dorian could barely understand him. “Wait, slow down. I’m not hearing you.” He heard his brother inhale and exhale a few times. Manon was watching him with concern. “Okay, now tell me what’s happening? Are you alright?”

“Uncle Perrington,” Hollin said, making an effort to get the words out. “I got home late and ... he ... he must have been drinking and-”

“Where are you now?” Dorian asked, and he saw Manon grab her things, put his book in a bag and throw on her coat.

“I'm at Terran’s. I didn’t know where else to go. His house is the closest.” Hollin's words were starting to run together again.

“Okay. Deep breaths. Are his parents home?”

“Yeah. But... I don’t want to stay here.”

“Don’t worry,” Dorian said, giving Manon a look before they both stood and headed for the exit. “I’m on my way.”

Thankfully, he was parked close by, but he still ran, Manon right beside him. He didn’t think of telling her not to. All he could think of was Hollin. And how he should have taken his brother out of that house the moment his dad died. He should have fought to get his trust fund, should have done more to keep him safe.

When they got to his car, he expected to give her a quick apology and be on his way, but she went for the passenger side door.

“You don’t need to come,” he said, hesitating before getting in. This was already bad enough. He didn’t think he could handle her seeing the ugly truth behind his rich and famous family. But she only stared at him across the roof of the car, her fierce eyes giving him an answer. If he really wanted her to stay behind, she would. But she was willing to go. No matter what.

“Okay,” he said, and they both jumped in.

*****

Manon waited in the car while Dorian went inside the house - mansion - to get his brother. Her foot was tapping involuntarily, and she couldn’t stop her hands from fidgeting.

Dorian had said little on the ride here, but she could guess enough. The death of Dorian Sr., and how the man’s brother had taken over the company, was all over the news a few months back. And a person didn’t need to stay on top of things to know Perrington Havilliard was a prick. With the family money, he’d avoided a handful of white-collar criminal convictions, some DUIs. There were rumors he’d done worse, but nothing ever stuck.

Imagining what he might do to a kid wasn’t hard. That was something she knew first hand.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for them to come outside. Dorian stopped at the door to thank a woman who must be the friend’s mom. Hollin practically ran to the car and got in the back, not thinking anything of her sitting in the front seat. She stole a glance back at him, relieved to see that despite looking shaken, he seemed unharmed. At least, physically.

“Sorry I messed up your date,” he said.

Twisting around in her seat, she frowned, “Who said this was a date?” He smiled, as she’d hoped, and she could see a little of his older brother in the expression.

“Dorian did. He talks about you all the time.”

Feeling her cheeks flush hot, she turned away from him. “Oh he does? That sounds creepy.”

Hollin sat forward, worried he was messing things up for his brother. “No, not like that. Mostly he talks about the museum. He’d never been to the natural history part until my class trip. Just the art side. I think he really liked it. Not just because of you either.”

Manon laughed and Hollin relaxed, just as Dorian got in the car. Seeing their faces, he opened his mouth to ask something but Manon gave him a little shake of her head. He examined Hollin, then her.

Her face was heating again under his gaze, so she said, “Are you hungry Hollin? We didn’t eat yet.”

“Sure,” he said. His excitement fell as he remembered. “I don’t have my bag, or homework, or anything. You’re not taking me back there are you?”

“No,” Dorian said, pulling out of the driveway. “I’ll get your things tomorrow. You can stay with me tonight.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he swore and said, “Gavriel’s parents are here this weekend. My apartment is packed. We can just get a hotel room. Then figure things out next week. Okay?”

Hollin agreed, seeming to believe the cheeriness Dorian was projecting. But she saw through it. It reminded her of Asterin. A few years older than her, Asterin had acted this way countless times after their grandmother had gone on one of her rampages. Dorian caught her staring at him and his brows dipped in concern.

“I’ve got room. You both can stay with me,” she blurted out, surprising everyone, herself included, with the offer. Hollin immediately agreed while Dorian quietly tried to turn her down. “It’s nothing fancy, but it might be better than a hotel. We can order pizza.”

That was a lie. They could afford a penthouse suite for god’s sake. And Dorian had seen her place. He knew her reasoning was bullshit. But after asking several times if she was sure, he relented.

He thanked her with what was probably the sweetest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen. Heart racing, she made herself stare straight ahead.

“Can we get pineapple?” Hollin asked. Dorian groaned loudly, and the brothers began what seemed to be a longstanding argument.

The bickering ended when she interrupted, “Yes, you can get pineapple." Dorian shot her a wounded look as Hollin celebrated in the back seat. “My house, my rules,” she said, totally forgetting what they’d done there. And what rules she’d made him follow that night. His smirk brought it all back though.

*****

Hollin had fallen asleep on Manon’s couch shortly after dinner. Dorian hadn’t asked him for many details aside from whether he was hurt. He’d managed to get out before Perrington could physically stop him, but the kid was scared. As he watched his brother sleep, Dorian’s anger, at himself as much as at their uncle, was starting to flood back.

Manon sat down at the table with a beer and handed him one.

Tonight, she’d been incredible. Not just by going with him, but letting them stay here, distracting Hollin and making him feel... normal. Like a kid. Not some fragile thing to be pitied or talked down to. It made him wonder if she’d had to deal with something like this before. The thought didn’t sit well and he pushed it from his mind.

“So, tomorrow...” she prompted.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Tomorrow, I will talk to Hollin and call a lawyer.”

“For custody? Don’t you already have one? A lawyer I mean.”

“A family lawyer,” he said. “I’ve known him most of my life, but I wouldn’t say that I trust him. And yes, for custody. I should have done it way before now.” He tore at the label on the beer bottle. “I thought it could wait. That we could wait until I graduated. But that was stupid. And selfish.”

Manon rested her chin in her hand. “You don’t have your own money.”

Dorian laughed, grim and humorless. “Nope. I have some. No more than most people though.” She arched an eyebrow. “Okay,” he said. “More than some. But not enough that I could live on my own.”

“In my defense,” she said, glancing around the apartment she lived in alone, “this building is shitty and thankfully, this neighborhood has been overlooked by the gentrification brigade.” She tipped her beer at him. “But I understand what you’re saying.”

He smiled, enjoying the easy way they could talk to each other. “My friend Chaol’s dad is a lawyer. He’s a bit of an asshole, but I think he’ll help. And I’ve got some money, but my trust fund won’t be available for another couple of years. I’m hoping to find a loophole.”

She looked across the room to where Hollin slept. “Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you do.”

Before he could think, Dorian reached across to take Manon’s hand. She didn’t pull away, but her eyes flared. He held on, long enough to say, “Thank you.” He opened his mouth to go on, but he didn’t know what more he could say. “Thank you,” he repeated.

Manon’s face softened and he let go of her hand. She bit her lip and asked, “So you never told me what your favorite exhibits are.”

“Ah,” he said, “I thought I’d gotten out of the inquisition, but I guess not.” She offered him the remaining pineapple pizza in exchange for not answering, but he passed it up.

“Well, I wasn’t lying about the pterosaurs. You could probably tell from the sketchbook. I’m not sure which of them specifically. They all scare the shit out of me. But when I’m there I can’t stop staring at them.”

“Yeah, their size is a little disconcerting,” she agreed.

“And them walking on all fours?” He cringed, took a drink and said, “I like them, but in the way someone who’s not into heights might like roller coasters. The whale exhibit was good. And I also liked the Age of Mammals hall. The irish elk actually might be my favorite. I know everyone goes for the dinosaurs, but the mammals are just as interesting.“

Manon’s lips twitched and she nodded approvingly. “And the fourth?” she asked. Dorian’s eyes widened with surprise. “You said there were four,” she added.

“I did.” He didn’t hide his pleasure that she’d remembered. “The entomology wing. The...” he paused, thinking, then said, “the lepidoptera.”

Manon laughed quietly. “After those others I would not have guessed the butterfly exhibit.”

“Would you like to know my favorite rock?”

“I’ve created a monster,” she teased, standing and putting her beer bottle in the sink.

He joined her and there was an awkward silence as they realized it was late. And Hollin was on the couch. And she had one bed.

“I’ll sleep out here,” he said, ignoring the ungentlemanly voice in his head telling him to wait and see if she offered to share. “You have to work tomorrow,” he added. “And I think it’d be better for me to stay near him.”

She gave him a little smile, and it made her whole face light up. The sight of her - so beautiful and tender - revived that voice and he was about to reconsider when she pointed into the living room. “There are extra blankets in the chest. And pillows are on the couch.”

Before he could say goodnight, she placed her hand on his chest and stood on her tiptoes. The kiss was feather light on his lips. The opposite of the kisses they’d shared that previous night. Kisses that were passionate and hungry and breathless, as if time was rushing by them. Kisses that had been perfect for the moment.

This kiss, soft and plush and chaste, was perfect too. And far more intimate than all the others.

“Goodnight,” she said, then disappeared down the hallway.

“Goodnight, witchling.”

To be continued...

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[until-theend-oftheline]

Out of the Shadows - Part 2: In her Shadow

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Warnings: Minor character death(s), domestic abuse (mentioned), underage rape (hinted, not glorified what so ever and not graphic), incest (hinted, not glorified what so ever and not graphic).

Square Filled: Domestic Abuse (marvel fandom) for @badthingshappenbingo and Crying for @clintbartonbingo

Word Count: 2700ish

A/N: This is written for @thorne93 writing challenge. I am so sorry I am late! The entire series is for her challenge and it’s inspired by Greek Tragedy by the Wombats and Drive you mad by Amy Shark. 

Clint is a mix between comic book version and MCU. He is deaf and has no wife and kids. The world is a bit closer to MCU and it takes place somewhere between CAWS and CACW mostly.

Betaed by: @jewels2876 thanks darling

Out of the Shadows Masterlist

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

The Black Hood, or Aurora as she had named herself to Clint, had learned from a young age to trust no one. Everyone close to her had hurt her or let her down in some way or another. You can’t get hurt if you don’t ever let anyone close to you. 

Clint had challenged Aurora in her ways of thinking over the years. Sometimes directly, telling her that everyone needed somebody sometimes. He told her of his best friend and how she once hadn’t been all that different from Aurora. He told her how she hadn’t trusted anyone but herself and even still to this day kept her walls up to most people. She had seen the value in friendships though. She believed in loyalty and love even if she might not be willing to let most people know that just yet. 

Aurora smiled when Clint spoke of Natasha. Not just because she agreed they were anything alike, but because Clint always spoke of her with such warmth. The smile on his face was contagious and he had a way of making her a part of his life through his words. Soon she didn’t only feel as if she knew Natasha, but also the rest of the team Clint became part of. Bruce was as broken as she felt at times. Tony struggled with demons just like her. Thor had pride and belief in his own skills that she saw in herself as well and Steve Rogers sounded like he was just about as stubborn as Clint kept reminding her that she was herself. 

Clint made her feel like she was a part of something the one time a year he visited her. He offered her a way that she really could be, but even if it became increasingly alluring she couldn’t make herself take that leap. Not even for the man that she trusted with her face, her heists, and her heart. 

Aurora hadn’t loved anyone or anything for a long, long time. Even if she wouldn’t admit her feelings to his face, or even to herself, they became increasingly harder to deny. His kisses made her toes curl, his arms tightly wrapped around her made her feel safe and laughing with him gave her a sense of home. All sensations she hadn’t felt for years, if even ever. Which was the reason she hadn’t let the relationship go beyond the kisses and cuddles they somehow always ended up sharing, talking about the year that had past. 

When Aurora needed something she would go out and get it. No matter if it was a drink, food, dance, sex or something else. She attached no emotions to the action or whoever she did it with but with Clint… she couldn’t do that. She wanted to be with him. She thought about how he would feel. How he would make her feel. She even thought about what the moments would be like after. Which scared her most of all. So she wouldn’t let their relationship go that far. Just being in his company, made her want to trust him and it became harder and harder for her to turn him down, whenever he asked her to come back with him. She couldn’t. She had done things no one could forgive, not even Clint. She would end up hurt and alone again. Living alone was easier and safer. Life was better on her own. 

It didn’t stop her from thinking about him in the year that passed between him dropping from a vent in whatever hotel room she was staying in at the time. Even if she had grown to expect him every year on the anniversary date of when he first appeared, he always managed to scare the crap out of her dumping from the ceiling. Clint had almost gotten himself shot over the years on that account and he most definitely had gotten several punches on that account. Still hadn’t prevented him from appearing that way until the day he showed two months before their anniversary knocking on her hotel door. 

Aurora looked through the peephole on the door, before lowering her gun with a frown. She quickly holstered it before pushing open the door looking past Clint up and down the hallways before stepping to the side, letting him in. 

“Did you lose your calendar? And who taught you how doors work?” she teased as she closed the door, but stopped when she turned around. Unshed tears welled in his eyes as he stood a few feet from her taking her in. 

“I needed to see you,” he confessed and Aurora instinctively opened her arms to him, inviting him closer. 

“I’m here,” she promised as Clint took a few quick steps forward into her embrace. He leaned forward, resting his head against her shoulder, letting his tears fall as he wrapped her arms around her waist and she put hers around him. 

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m here,” she repeated as she hold him, letting him cry against her as long as he needed to. Not until his body stopped shaking and his tears subsided did she lead him towards the couch in the middle of her suite.  

“Do you wanna tell me about it?” she asked gently as she sat down next to him, keeping her hand in his. She gave it a small squeeze as Clint took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he began telling her his side of the story she had already been following on the News. 

He told her about how Tony had created Ultron fearing the battle of New York that the Avengers had won a few years ago wouldn’t be the last attack the world would have to face from space. He didn’t trust the Avengers would be enough to hold back another attack and that they would be able to keep the world safe so he had created what he thought would be mankind's best defense.  

He told her of the twins from Sokovia, that Clint had quickly grown to feel responsible for even if he had no reason too. He didn’t explain it like that but Aurora thought it to herself. Clint had a huge heart. Bigger than anyone she had ever met before in her life, and he seemed to just naturally collect broken people. Natasha, Aurora, Wanda, and Pietro. When he hadn’t been able to protect the latter when the young man, in fact, had died saving Clint’s life it had shattered him. He had held it together for the other’ and for Wanda, the twin sister. Normally he would have gone to Natasha with something like this, but from what Aurora could gather she was suffering too, only for different reasons. This battle had taken a toll on her and Clint hadn’t wanted to burden her too. 

More than that Natasha hadn’t been the one he needed. Aurora ignored him telling her that. Being needed was almost as bad as needing someone else. It only got you hurt. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him again, gently rocking him in her arms in silence for a while. 

“I love you,” Clint muttered tightening his hold on her when Aurora froze. He had expected her to react like that but he could no longer hold back what he had been feeling for years. She was more than just a mission to him. In fact, she hadn’t been since SHIELD had fallen and yet here he was seeking her out year after year because he wanted too. Because he needed her to know that he cared, that someone else could too. She could have a family if only she chose to come back home with him. 

“No you don’t” Aurora released her hold on him, pushing him away from her with a hard look. So hard it made Clint flinch and Aurora almost regretted her action. If only he hadn’t said that. He was already hurting and she didn’t want to hurt him further. He was wrong though. He didn’t love her. He loved the idea of her. Just like men before he had. Men she had let stay in their belief until she had stolen their money and disappeared in the night. Clint wasn’t those men. She didn’t want to lie to him any more than she was willing to let him lie to himself. 

“I do,” Clint looked down, to avoid the fire shooting from the woman’s eyes. 

“You think you do. But you don’t know me. You don’t know the things I’ve done,” she hissed and Clint looked back up at her shaking his head. 

“I don’t judge people by their worst mistakes. So even if I knew, which I don’t because you refuse to let me in ...” Clint yelled, but when he saw the shook on her face he stopped. He took a deep breath, before calmly finishing his sentence. “It wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

Aurora looked at him in disbelief as she let his words sink in. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she made a decision she never thought she made. She told him the truth. The truth she had never in her life shared with another person. A truth she had been carrying on her own for over half of her life. 

“I killed my parents,” she blurted out, hoping to shook Clint to take back his words but he didn’t even as much as flinch, so she continued. “I killed my parents and I took their money. I have lived off my inheritance for all of my life. That’s why I never keep any of the money for myself.”

Her words were true, even if they weren’t the entire truth. She hoped that they would make Clint back off. Maybe even stop seeking her out every year. Her attachment to him was becoming dangerous. A clean break now would be better and she knew she couldn’t be the one to make it. Clint wouldn’t ever give up on her, even if she broke his heart. It was better this way she thought. But Clint saw right through her half-truth. 

“They hurt you…” Clint concluded, never taking his eyes off her when she took a step back as if Clint’s words had slapped her across the face. He wanted to move towards her and pull her into his arms as her eyes began to water. He didn’t. He knew she wouldn’t let him. Not right now. She was opening up to him, just like he had wanted her to for years. Clint knew that one wrong step would make her shut down.

Aurora didn’t say anything. Instead, she spun around heading the bedroom. Clint closed her eyes, breathing in. He feared he had lost her, but before he could even begin to decide between leaving or staying she reappeared back in front of him. She dropped a folder in his lap, before turning around, starting to pace the floor.  

Clint opened the folder to see a huge mansion in flames; presumably her childhood home. He frowned as he began flipping through the pages. 

Billionaire couple dies in a house fire. Leaves behind 16-year-old daughter.

Uncle takes in Y/L/N heiress. 

Y/L/N orphan put into foster care.

Y/N Y/L/N turns 18. What will she do with her inheritance? 

21-year old Y/L/N heiress disappears after clearing out bank accounts.

“Y/N…” Clint looked up from the papers and Aurora froze. “That’s your name?”

“It was,” she answered without facing him. “A lifetime ago. Not anymore.”

Clint nodded, looking back down to the papers. Recognizing a pattern. Clint was a spy but he was also an heir himself as well as a survivor of abuse. 

“The foster home saw you as a paycheck. Your uncle didn’t believe you when you told him what they did,” Clint concluded before looking up in her eyes. She looked so much like a hurt animal and Clint wasn’t sure if she was gonna lash out or run. Either way, he wasn’t letting her go. Not know. Not when she had come this far. 

“And my parents what did they do to me?” she stared Clint down, almost challenging him to guess her suffering. 

“They hurt you,” Clint answered simply. 

“He told me he loved me,” Aurora’s voice broke and tears started to build in Clint’s eyes along with hers as he realized the nightmare she had lived. “It started when I was eight. She knew. I told her and she hit me. She hit me every day since. She blamed me. And he kept… She told me I stole her husband. I was their daughter and they…”

Aurora stopped her hysterical rant and she just stood there staring at Clint. All light had gone from her eyes as the night she had put an end to her nightmare no doubt flashed through her mind. “I blocked their bedroom door and I set fire to the house. I killed them.”

“You were a child and you saw no other way out. You’re not a murderer. You’re a survivor,” Clint stood up, taking a tentative step towards her and Aurora fell into his arms, sobbing as she let him hold her. 

He held her for days. Listening as she opened up sharing her story. Listening to the men and women that hurt her after she received her inheritance. He told her about his past as they stayed hidden in the hotel room together for weeks. He told her about his dad and how he had lost most of his hearing. He told her how his brother had taken a different path in life from him, but that he still loved him despite all his flaws. Clint meant it when he said he didn’t judge people by their worst actions. He judged them by their heart and will to carry on.

Aurora told Clint how someone all her life had wanted something from her. Money, recognition, sex. Everyone she had let close to her had let her down in one way or another. So she disappeared. She became a vigilante in her own way. She stole from the type of people that had always hurt her and she gave to kids like the kid she had been once. 

She hadn’t trusted anyone since she was 21, not until she had met Clint. She let all her walls down with him. She let him see her, all of her as she was. Wounds and all. She let him love her in spite of it. She shared her bed and let herself feel what life could be like. For a brief moment, she let him and herself believe he had convinced her to come back with him. She let herself hope that he was right when he told her his friends would help her. They wouldn’t judge her for her worst actions any more than he did. She let herself dream of a life where she could trust again. 

She let herself feel his touch and his love, clinging to him as they moved together, holding back her tears when he whispered how much he loved her. She wanted to say the words back but she couldn’t. She knew that she would be gone before the night was through. 

As the moon shun clearly through the windows, illumination Clint’s naked sleeping form Aurora pulled herself from the bed. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, softly whispering the words she couldn’t bring herself to say when he was awake. 

“I love you.”

She pulled on her clothes and grabbed her bags, giving his naked form just barely covered by the sheets one last look, before placing a note next to his pillow on her empty side of the bed. 

“I’m so sorry. I can’t be the person you want me to be. Thank you for everything

- Aurora”

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Out of the Shadows

@dark-night-sky-99

[psychosistr]

Talk to Me- Chapter 2

Summary: Dominic picks Steelbeak up for their date. On their way to the restaurant, he gets to see a new side of his partner that he hadn’t expected.

Notes: Date night begins! The outfits I have them wearing for the rest of the night actually came from this comic drawn by @thefriendlyfour.

-First Chapter-

Dominic exited the elevator into the underground parking deck, feeling refreshed after taking a few hours to rest and relax before getting ready for the night. He was dressed in a button up shirt that was black around the torso with light purple sleeves and a dark purple scarf wrapped around his neck. His usual clothes would have been more than appropriate for this outing, but, seeing as he’d called it a date, he felt he should change things up a little bit.

As he reached his car (a black two-seater Aston Martin One-77 Q-series with a red and black interior- it was a pretty expensive vehicle, but he’d gotten lucky and “found” it after the previous owner met with a rather unfortunate “accident” involving mysteriously bursting into flames), he saw a rooster dressed in black slacks held up by a light purple belt with a gleaming silver buckle, black suede loafers, and a button-up shirt with a color that reminded him of red wine with its reddish purple hue leaning against the side of his vehicle. Just as he was about to ask the man to move, familiar dark eyes looked down at him and the rooster grinned. “Whattaya know? We match.”

“?!” Dominic’s eyes widened to a comical degree and he almost dropped the keys in his hand. That voice, those eyes, that was-?! “Steelbeak..?” He asked tentatively, looking him over from head to toe.

“You expectin’ someone else I should know ‘bout, Deedee?” The other bird gave him a smirk that he was all too familiar with, but it felt odd seeing it without the usual gleam of dangerously sharp metal accompanying it.

The man in front of him was most definitely his arrogant, over-confident, smart-mouthed partner, but Dominic hadn’t recognized him at first without his namesake prosthetic beak. Instead, the taller fowl now had a surprisingly normal looking dark yellow beak like a regular chicken.

“Credit where it’s due,” Dominic began after composing himself, giving Steelbeak an appreciative glance from head to toe. “You caught me off guard..and cleaned up nicely.” He finished his assessment by looking up at the taller bird approvingly with a wink.

He spotted a bit of red under Steelbeak’s light cheek feathers, but the other bird just grinned and winked back at him. “You ain’t lookin’ too shabby yourself, red eyes.” He hooked his thumb behind himself to point at the loon’s car. “So, we goin’ for seafood or just stayin’ here complimentin’ each other all night? Not that I’d mind that much if we went with the second option.”

Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Who says we can’t do both?” A smirk slipped easily onto the loon’s dark beak and he gave his partner one last provocative glance before moving to the driver’s side of the vehicle.

___________________________________________________________

The trip to the restaurant was a bit of a drive, but it was surprisingly pleasant. The two agents spent the majority of the ride there teasing and flirting with each other- sometimes seriously, sometimes more jokingly just to make one another laugh.

At one point, though, the radio (which had mostly been left on for background noise), faded to static. Dominic started idly turning the dial in search of a new station while they were stopped at a light, and, to his surprise, the man beside him perked up at a particular tune.

“Wait, go back.” Steelbeak said while looking at the small screen. When the loon did as he was asked, a surprisingly soft smile spread across the rooster’s beak. “I like this one.”

The first few chords registered in Dominic’s mind and he blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know they played this on the radio..”

Steelbeak looked at the other bird with that same smile. “Ya know it too? This station’s pretty good- this is ‘round the time they take requests. Someone must’ve phoned it in.” He closed his eyes, jumping into the song right on the first line. “Game after game we play. Our twisted snakes an’ ladders. Time for the rules t’ change…You’re in my arteries. You’re boltin’ through my body. I’ll never be the same….” His right arm was resting against the door beside him and his fingers had begun tapping along to the notes in a surprisingly accurate rhythm. (Did he know how to play piano? Dominic would have to remember to ask him later) “So why won’t ya taaaaaaaalk t’ me?…Why won’t you just taaaaaaa~lk t’ me?…There’s a universe inside your head. Constellations of the things ya left unsaid. Taaaaalk t’ me, or watch me leave…”

“…” Dominic found himself staring before realizing that the light had changed, forcing him to keep his eyes on the road as he continued driving. He was secretly glad the other man hadn’t caught him staring- he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said if he’d been called out for it…

Steelbeak, oblivious to the secret looks and peripheral glances he was still receiving, continued quietly singing along with the radio. “Wave after wave of your meaningless conversation- changin’ the subject again…Are you ever gonna wake up? Are you ever gonna wake up? Or are ya gonna let me just walk awaaa~y?” His voice wasn’t as smooth or angelic as the singer on the radio (not anywhere close), but there was something so genuinely heartfelt about the rooster’s quiet singing that stirred something in Dominic’s chest as he listened. “All ya need t’ do is just taaaaaalk t’ me. Why won’t you just taaaaaaa~lk t’ me?… There’s a universe inside your head. Constellations of the things ya left unsaid. Taaaaalk t’ me…” He opened his eyes again, gazing out through the windshield into the starry night sky with a tender, genuine smile that Dominic was lucky enough to catch while they were stopped at another light. “You will bite your tongue ‘til it bleeds, hangin’ by the skin of your own teeth. Silence is your loudest scream. I dunno why you’re hidin’.”

Dominic wasn’t sure what motivated him to join in. Maybe it was the way the other bird’s voice sounded singing one of his favorite songs. Maybe it was the way he gazed up at the stars so serenely. Or maybe it was the way that smile, which looked so much softer than the usual smirks and grins he was used to seeing from the chief officer, warmed his heart a little.

“You will bite your tongue until it bleeds, hanging by the skin of your own teeth! Silence is your loudest scream! I don’t know why you’re hidiiiiiii~ng!” Dominic’s eyes were on the road once again, but he could feel the other man looking at him. A quick peek told him that a bright, genuinely happy smile accompanied the stare he was receiving. That smile was really too infectious for its own good and he couldn’t help but smile as well. “Why won’t you taaaaaaaalk to me?…Why won’t you just taaaaaaa~aalk to me?…There’s a universe inside your head. Constellations of the things you left unsaid. Taaaaalk to me.” The few glances he snuck of his passenger let him know that the gaze on him was nothing short of adoring, and it motivated him to give everything he had for his impromptu performance. “Why won’t you taaaaaaaalk to me?!…Why won’t you just taaaaaaa~aalk to me?!…There’s a universe inside your head! Constellations of the things you left unsaid! Taaaaalk to me!”

Steelbeak joined him for the final verse, their voices harmonizing in a way that certainly wouldn’t earn them a recording contract anytime soon, but that felt perfect and right in that moment.

“Game after game we play…Our twisted snakes and ladders…Time for the rules to change…”

They waited out the last few seconds of the song, both of them enjoying the feeling of calmness and serenity that had overtaken them. The atmosphere within the vehicle had changed- what was once an air of playfulness and bantering was now something deeper and far more meaningful.

Steelbeak was eventually the one to break the serene silence between them. “Wow..didn’t know I was performin’ for a pro.”

Dominic couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped his beak at the compliment. “Hardly- I actually don’t sing that often.”

“Really? That’s a shame-” The other bird’s smile was full of adoration as he spoke. “-‘cause you’ve got one of the prettiest voices I’ve ever heard.”

For the first time in a long time, Dominic felt his cheeks heat up and was grateful for his dark feathers that easily hid the blush spreading across them. It was honestly a little embarrassing, getting flustered over such a simple compliment- they’d been flirting since they’d left their apartment complex, for goodness’ sake!

But…maybe that was exactly why it got to him so much: It was a genuine, sincere compliment, not just a playful flirt.

“…Thanks.” He managed to say with a small smile on his beak. “For what it’s worth, yours isn’t too bad, either.”

“That means a lot comin’ from a natural pop star like you.” Dominic glanced over long enough to see the rooster wink at him and it made him smile more. Looking ahead of him again, he could see the restaurant down the street.

Tonight was already turning out to be more enjoyable than he’d imagined and they hadn’t even sat down to dinner yet…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: So, for this part I consulted @thefriendlyfour to get an idea for both Domino’s car and appropriate music for this scene. For the car, an aston martin seemed appropriate as it would be sleek and stylish while not looking as over the top as Steelbeak’s flashy golden car xD After doing a bit of research, I found this really nice looking one that’s black on the outside with a red and black interior that seemed perfect for him x3

As for the music, Lauren Aquilina was sited as having a few songs that really resonated with Domino’s character. The song Talk to Me was too beautiful and too perfect for the general mood and theme of the fic NOT to use it, so I not only made it the song they sang together, but the title of the story as a whole xD

[ragingstillness]

Questions I have for Marvel part eight

Avengers 2:

1. Bruce falling on Natasha’s boobs. Why? This isn’t a hentai.

2. Why does being infertile make Natasha a monster? Why? WHY JOSS WHEDON WHY??????

3. Wanda and Pietro are canonically Jewish. Sure they would sign up for a Nazi organization. Sure...

4. They are also in an uncomfortable incest relationship in the comics and I can’t tell if they decided to sort of commit to that or not? They’re awfully touchy, but it’s also not super fair to the characters who played lovers in a movie they did right before this one.

5. Also, why is the worst possible injury a woman can suffer one to her reproductive system? Like, fostering and adoption still exists? Does she have a job conducive to kids anyway?

-Natasha isn’t defined by her reproductive potential. This plotline could just as easily have been used to support the bastardized super soldier serum the red room puts in its participants.

6. Why the Bruce/Natasha romance? It came out of nowhere? And had no chemistry? And meant nothing in general?

7. How can Natasha not get out of a cage while fully equipped? Is it because they’re making her a damsel?

-I think it’s because Whedon wrote it...

8. What is up with Wanda’s accent?

-It comes, it goes, where it stops, nobody knows.

9. Where is Sokovia geographically? I know it’s a fake place but I’m curious?

10. If Coulson is leading the Avengers to where they are at the beginning of the movie do they know he’s alive? Do they?

11. Why does nobody ever use their finishing move when they could be punching and kicking?

-I could put this for anything but I’m putting it here.

12. Why do action scenes always supplant any actual conversation and emotional depth, always?

13. Why do the Iron Legion robots speak English rather than Sokovian?

14. Pietro knocks Cap down and messes with Hawkeye but doesn’t actually try to do any damage to them?

15. Why does Tony go into the secret base without his suit?

16. Why can Hulk suddenly be calmed now?

17. Why is only Tony’s vision actually relevant to much of anything?

18. Why is Tony and Thor’s visions the only ones with actual violence or threat?

19. Why does Wanda only screw with Tony when she knows full well who he is and has a chance to kill him?

20. How does the Scepter keep getting passed around? I know the reason is in AOS but why didn’t Thor take it back to Asgard along with Loki in the first place?

21. Why do we get zero explanation as to why Pietro and Wanda have the powers they do and how they got them?

22. Why does Tony only tell Bruce? I get that it’s in his nature to not trust very easily and ultimately this turns out to be kind of a good move considering how they turn on him immediately but why? Like, this is important? Why not tell anyone?

23. Why does Ultron think humans are the danger? He says it a lot but he never really says why? Is it because we war and aren’t very environmental? Give us something.

24. Is JARVIS dead and gone or isn’t he?

25. If Ultron was almost entirely uploaded to Vision how is Vision more JARVIS than Ultron and why is Ultron not weakened by losing some of his consciousness like that?

26. Thor gives Stan Lee Asgardian liquor as if it won’t hurt him?

27. Why is Ultron immediately creepy? He could have just been cold and calculating?

28. Why are Tony’s armors so beatable when Ultron controls them?

29. Knowing the little I do know from my computer science major, how did Ultron manage to upload himself to the internet? He has to be stored in a server somewhere and there aren’t many sites able to host code of his size without crashing. Couldn’t they track him through what looks like random DDOS attacks?

30. How was Thor tracking the Iron Man suits?

31. Why go straight to threatening Tony physically Thor? In all other movies you are very conscious of your own strength and have grown as a person?

32. Why is Tony immediately accused of knowing a black market arms dealer?

-It’s like the writers just took everyone’s characterization back to the first avengers movies. Oh, this was written by Joss Whedon too? That explains it.

33. Presuming Ultron did manage to get into the internet, how can he still control suits?

34. How did Ultron do manual repairs on himself?

35. Why do Wanda and Pietro just go up with Ultron immediately?

36. Why does the guy who gets his arm cut off (I used to know his name I’m just forgetting it now) not bleed to death near immediately?

37. How quick is Pietro? Enough to be spotted?

38. Why is Wanda immediately forgiven for the people she hurts, the time she set the Hulk free, and all the stuff she did for Hydra in a snap and just joins the Avengers out of nowhere?

39. Why does Clint bring the damaged team to his wife’s house as if that’s not going to put them in danger? It somehow doesn’t but it’s really irresponsible?

40. Is Tony just the machine whisperer now? Why is there an assumption that because he knows cars and suits and phones that he knows farm equipment?

41. Why does Thor just peace out for a sec and really nothing comes of it as by Thor 3 he has been looking for the infinity stones and hasn’t found any of them? In fact he leave several on Earth. Did he think he could just ask around and find them by word of mouth?

42. I love Hawkeye, but not MCU Hawkeye, and he hasn’t been shown to matter enough or have enough personality to get this much attention?

43. Why is Cap knocking Tony’s attempt to do something good?

44. Why does Cap think he’s Sun Tzu when he fought in limited combat in one war and then only was on the front lines for like two years?

45. Why is Fury here? Does he just pop up whenever there’s a pep talk to be had?

46. Do the Avengers have a PR team or anyone who cleans up after them? We learn later the second part is Tony but what else?

47. Why are there water spirits and magically stuff that Thor knows exists on Midgard, the famously non-magical planet?

48. How does Helen not die from Ultron stabbing her? Also why is she not in this movie more? And are she and Maria dating? (Her crush on Thor is cute until you realize she’s one of four female characters in the movie)

49. Why does the Cradle do what it does for Ultron? Isn’t it supposed to just heal injuries, not give life?

50. Does Cap’s shield come back to him or not?

51. When did Pietro and Wanda decide to betray Ultron? And if they switch sides that quickly who would trust them and why didn’t they revolt against Hydra earlier?

52. Why bother with making Natasha connect with Bruce on his “monsterness” when they could easily have extrapolated that similarity seen in the conversation with Tony?

53. Also why would Tony bother calling Bruce a monster? Seems kind of rude.

54. Why does Thor basically Frankenstein Vision to life? Is this actually happening?

55. Why doesn’t Ultron kill Natasha?

56. Where did the random crater come from for Natasha to push Bruce into?

57. Why doesn’t the Hulk kill her for that?

58. How does Wanda feel Pietro’s death?

59. Why can Hulk fly a quinjet?

60. Why does nobody make jokes about Thor having a strand of Loki’s hair braided into his own?

[cosmosogler]

hi guys. didn’t do much today, but i did troubleshoot a web site problem for one of my classes, got all my drc papers together, went to therapy, did my dishes, and finished a comic scene. or, the first half of a scene, which is a full post. 

still getting bowled over by waves of sadness. mom called me this morning and again recommended that she and dad take me to get another cat in a week and a half. but i’m just. really not in the mood to think about that right now. or imagine myself with another cat in the future, right now. 

i hope i have the energy for classes tomorrow. gotta get to my homework assignments and stuff. they’re already coming in and piling up. labs start next week and i’m teaching again. i’ll have to review the semester labs over the weekend and try to put together some lecture notes... it still sounds too hard. 

my therapist said that one thing she really appreciates about me is that, even when i make a mistake or mess up, i’m still always trying to do things right. when i make a mistake i try to learn how to do it right. i’m always pulling myself up. she said i’m very resilient. i’ve heard that a couple times. but i feel so exhausted all the time. 

like i totally understand when people don’t have the energy to get out of bed, or don’t have the energy to do something, or go to a social gathering. i don’t know how i do those things. i don’t know where i get that energy. i sure don’t feel it! i don’t feel like i got that energy! yesterday especially, i just kind of... found myself doing things. like, “oh, i’m on the bus now i guess. i’m at the doctor now i guess. i’m watching harrison and keegan talk now i guess. i’m telling a joke now i guess. i’m cleaning up snoopy’s toys now i guess.” 

i don’t dare tell people “i can do it, so you can too!” because i don’t know how i do it. i know that i really shouldn’t be able to do it. i hope people don’t think i expect them to work as hard as me. i don’t even feel like i’m working hard. i feel like i’m caught in a riptide paddling and paddling frantically and never reaching the shore. i rarely ever feel like i’m getting anywhere. i hope i don’t secretly have high expectations of people. i try to cut that out. i try to meet people where they’re at and see where they wanna go before i tell them to go anywhere. 

i tell people “god had to nerf me because i’m too powerful” and that’s really, honestly becoming my best guess about how i do it. i keep becoming more powerful so i keep getting hit with the hard permanent hurts. one day i’ll punch god in the face. i’ll, uh, absorb amestris and punch out the moon, which is also god, or truth, or me, or everything. watch me do it. hold my beer.

... i miss snoopy. i wish i could pet her. i wish i could give her more cookies and meow back at her when she makes those “brrt” noises at me. when she made them. i miss eve. i hope my parents are taking care of her. i know they don’t play with her or push her to get up and out of the house as much as i do. i hope she’s happy. 

[mamaredd123]

A Taste of Something...New

A/N: It’s been awhile since I posted anything on here and for that I offer my apologies. Writer’s block and life in general have been wreaking havoc on my creative tendencies. But I do have a brand new little tale to share with y’all and I hope you enjoy it. Not exactly sure how long this one will be but I am already 3 chapters in. Hopefully y’all will stick around and see how it plays out.

WARNING: can’t think of any in this chapter.. if you spot any please let me know and I’ll tag them though

WORD COUNT: 1566

PAIRING: none yet... the best is yet to come

Mama’s Master List

Mama’s Tag List 

Just as a gentle reminder, if you happen to enjoy this (or didn’t), leave some feedback or even hit the reblog button. We all know how great it feels to get some feedback from our writings.

‘I'm gonna work late again tonight baby’

She read the text and then sat the phone down almost nonchalantly. Same words, another day. She knew he had to work, had to get the job done to put the money in the bank to pay the bills. Somehow, after seven years of this, it had just become monotonous. It was just words.

Was he actually working? Was THIS job that important? Just last Saturday he had promised to take her out to eat, finally a date night, but work had delayed him and they had missed their reservation. The one question that nagged her more than anything though, even after twenty-three years, was did she even really care?

Glancing over at the phone, with a slight hesitation, she picked it up and texted back her usual response.

‘Ok… try not to be too late.. love u’

Within seconds she got her “love u” text back and she knew he was done communicating with her for the night. She would not hear anything else from him unless he woke her when he came home in the wee hours of the morning.

Recently, she had been having these thoughts more and more when she got his recurrent texts each night, always the same theme, work. It hadn’t always been like that between them. They had met and fell in love early in life, such a joyous thing! He had been so full of life back then. Even after the kids were born nothing had changed. He used to always make sure he was home in time for dinner, he planned all their family vacations, and even surprised her on more occasions than she could remember with small weekend getaways for the two of them.

Presently, she was forty-three, both their kids grown and out in the world on their own. Now it was just him and her. Mostly, it seemed like it was just her. He very seldom was even home at night before she fell asleep. This should be the best years of their lives! They should be enjoying a few years (hopefully about five or nine years) before grandchildren and then spending the rest of their lives entertaining the younger generation with tales of laughter and words of wisdom. With life, there's always some obscure twist of fate though.

Her days and nights seemed to run together, with blurred lines, each one appearing to be a mirror image of the one before it. She would get up each morning, get him dressed and out the door. The rest of the mornings, she spent tidying up the house, maybe a load of laundry, and taking care of any bills that needed to be seen to. Her afternoon’s were just as exciting. Usually, she would make a quick run to the grocery store for a few items and if she really wanted to do something thrilling, she might even stumble into the local Walmart for a little window shopping. Then she would return home and prepare a dinner that would not be eaten hot.

After all of the ‘wife chores’ were done, however, she made the rest of each day her time. In between binge watching and casual surfing on the net, a few months ago, she had stumbled across a website that shared, which was new to her, fan fiction. Between all the things going on in her life, the new obsession of her new favorite show, and obviously her freedom, she was immediately hooked. Fanfiction! Who would have thought! She remembered the eighties and the nineties so she knew all about fangirling over someone, or so she thought.

So here she was sitting alone, again, in the middle of the night. She was all bundled up in the covers of their bed, computer up and running, and scrolling through her new favorite internet site. Reading the stories she stumbled upon drew her back to her high school fantasies. In the nineties, yea she had her crushes on the favorite celebrities but even in her wildest dreams, never had she ever some up with some of the stuff she was reading tonight. That was really saying a lot, really, cause the things that she thought of doing with Marky Mark HIMSELF (and still thought about doing today), well, they definitely made her blush when she thought about them. But.. these stories she read! There were things described in them that she had never even thought possible and she had been married FOREVER, or so it seemed.

Finishing the latest tale of unabashed lust, she shoved the laptop away from her. Leaning back on her pillow, she looked over to his side of the bed. The emptiness of it seemed to weigh even heavier tonight for some reason. She tried to think back on any given day/night when things seemed to change between them. Nothing stood out. Not one single moment. Except this one. A deep sigh escaped her as she realized she really did love him. That was why she was here, alone, every night, by herself. But was that enough? Business was good. She always tried to make sure nothing interfered with that. The kids were as good as they were gonna get. She always made sure he had clean clothes in the morning, a clean house or at least a semi clean house, a cold beer in the fridge, and something to eat when he was hungry. Doesn’t sound like much but that was basically all he ever asked from her all these years. If you thought about it, she really had it made.

Shaking her head, she climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen. This way of thinking was definitely not a good thing, not if she was going to find a way to find some kind of passion, lust, love, anything to salvage her marriage. She grabbed her tumbler and filled it with ice. Reaching for the cabinet door, a small voice echoed in her head ‘all you do is drink yourself to sleep every night’. Shaking her head again, she reached in the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of bourbon. She filled the cup and mixed in the coke with zero hesitation well maybe a second's hesitation when she rethought about how she was trying to figure away to salvage her marriage. Taking the first sip, however, always felt like a open act of rebellion, even though no one was there to see it. She really didn’t drink much, usually a couple of drinks at night, maybe a glass of wine or two.

The thoughts running through her mind weren’t very productive as she moved from the kitchen and back to the bedroom. ‘Screw him’ was the basic principle of them. Most of these long nights, she felt like she was spinning out of control. One second, desperate to fix her marriage and breath life back into it. The next, angry as hell at him for always leaving her alone. Getting back under the covers, nursing her drink, she pulled her computer closer. She had to get out of her own mind, she thought to herself as she settled down to read some more fanfiction. Instead of going to her notification page to see who had posted another chapter of delicious, flesh devouring, sin ridden fiction, she chose to scrolled the main page. Maybe she would find a few new authors to stalk.

The first thing she noticed was a post from one of her most favorite authors stating that she was attending a comic con, in her state! This woman, oh man, she had been reading her stories since the day she joined the site. There was a lot of hype going on about the convention she realized as she read through the comments on the post. The entire cast of the show was going to be there! Out of curiosity, she opened another browser and looked up the convention. To her surprise, it was actually being held here in town. The thought of meeting any of the cast would be delightful but also possibly meeting her? Would he care if she went? Would he even notice she was gone? 

She glanced over at the empty side of the bed and sighed deeply. She longed for romance like the ones she read. She hungered for some passion in her life. She ached from the loneliness. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, who can really say what compelled her but she clicked on the Buy Tickets tab and bought herself a gold package! He would probably kill her when he realized how much she had just spent but oh well. She very seldom ever asked for anything from him. She finished her drink, tucked her laptop away for the night, and settled down in the bed. Her dreams that night, for once, were not bleak or dismal. Instead, they were full of delicious fantasies. 

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he came home that night, he found her balled up under the covers with a soft smile across her face. He paused and watched her for a few moments. It had been a long time since he had seen her smile like that. Quietly, he slipped out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. He would sleep on the couch tonight so maybe he wouldn’t disturb her.

Random Tags (gonna try to do an updated tag list soon... maybe.. hopefully)

@megansescape @madamelibrarian @chelsea072498 @jayankles @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @crowleysdemonknight @motleymoose @sumara62 @mrstheorossix3 @evansrogerskitten @waywardjoy  @dwaynii @jensen-jarpad  @deathtonormalcy56 @supernatural-jackles @ruprecht0420 @charliebradbury1104 @relmi-llorrac @wonderange @sandlee44 @tom-is-in-my-tardis @kmb99t @summer-binging-spn @posiemax @ohmychuckitssamanddean @thedevilinthedetails @bohowitch @tmccarney @dragon-tail @suli155 @mrsbatesmotel53 @petrovadixon @thewalkingmombie @mogaruke @spontaneousam @uniquewerewolfsuit @firstlady36 @goldenolaf25 @lunarsaturn88 @babypieandwhiskey @impalaimagining @sis-tafics @chaos-and-the-calm67 @inmysparetime0 @idreamofhazel @nichelle-my-belle  @firstlady36  @bohowitch @whispersandwhiskerburn  @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @ilostmyshoe-79 @roxy-davenport @mrsbatesmotel53 @plaidstiel-wormstache @spn-hetalian-from-Hogwarts  @carribear31  @captainemwinchester @watercolor31 @sea040561 @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel  @impalaplots @faegal04 @missjenniferb @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @emoryhemsworth  @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for  @tattooedmomster13 @sardonicpsycho @dwgrl1903  @tankcupcakes @atc74  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @iwantthedean @paintrider13-blog @d-s-winchester @death2thevirgin @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @ellen-reincarnated1967 @just-another-busy-fangirl @waywardjoy @winchesterprincessbride @willowing-love @redlipstickandplaid @mirandaaustin93 @kiranagoya 

[evartandadam]

Sasosaku Month Day 30- In Memory of…

Drabble below:

Sometimes, during one of many restless nights, Sakura’s mind takes her back to memories she’s categorized and filed away.

Lady Chiyo was one of those memories. The woman who’s risked her life to save not only the Kazekage but also her, the woman whose age did not diminish her skills in the battlefield in the slightest. Sakura remembers holding her then in one moment, and bidding her farewell at her grave in another.

And then, by association, she thinks of him.

Their battle, as brief as it was, was her first exposure to many more tragedies she would experience later, a learning opportunity as much as it was a frightening reminder of what she had yet to learn. As a medical ninja, she’s taught to analyze the enemy’s move – to think two steps ahead – in order to secure the team’s safety.

It was then, that she also began to analyze him, desperate to understand where he came from, what his motives were, what more he’s hidden under those layers of cold calculation.

He left little behind, among the fury he’s spiked in her, Lady Chiyo’s words a faint reminder of the cruel ways of the Sand.

His offer to make her just like him – to understand –, and the information about Orochimaru he’s trusted her with left her just as confused.

She remembers visiting Lady Chiyo’s grave, but she doesn’t remember ever seeing his so-…

So, here she is, stepping between an assortment of dry wooden limbs in order to avoid entangling herself in this mess of a cave. She’s caused the absence of a ceiling, she remembers, now allowing the late afternoon sun to bask the field of debris in a warm glow. Her eyes wander the place, in search for a certain someone, the man in the body of an adolescent boy she knew Suna has never come back for. – they were financially unstable as it is, it made sense that they never came back to clean up.

It was only the absence of his first puppet body, initially sealed to the wall, that threw her off.

She spots a tuft of red hair behind a small rock-

Her breath halts.

There he was, just as he’s been left behind, face down in the ghostly embrace of his parents.

“I-…” What was she supposed to say? “Don’t ask me what I’m doing.”

It wasn’t that he happened to be very talkative to begin with, and so she’s left in silence.

The sun towers over her, just barely leaving her shadow to hover over the three figures in front of her.

She does faintly recall that he hated to wait, as well as making others wait.

“I was just on my way to see Lady Chiyo-…and I thought I could just-”

Oh, why was she even bothering to lie to a dead man?

She lowkey expects him to stand up in just a second and murk her person, collecting her body to restart the collection she’s destroyed – but nothing of the sort happens.

Instead, he makes her look like an idiot, feeling the need to fill the silence.

“Your birthday was a couple weeks ago, right?” Sakura doesn’t need to ask, she’s brought the old tattered bingo book with her, passing the time with memorizing the names and stats of a variety of funny figures yet to be caught. “How old are you? 36? 38? It’s been a while.”

It doesn’t feel right staring down at him, and so she steps backwards to sit down, crossing her legs in the process. She places her backpack next to her person, and tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “It’s almost creepy how young you looked – not as creepy as the, you know, the head rotation thing – but still. Still creepy.”

“In any case… happy birthday-…belated happy birthday.” She tacks on, in case he would require a clarification. “You old man.”

Why was she nervous? He was dead, after all, and nobody was around to possibly catch her making a fool of herself. Maybe she’s developed a minor aversion to puppets. Hard not to be queasy when at least a 100 of them were sharing a space with her.

Sakura rubs her hands, a habit of nervosity. “I went to visit Lady Chiyo’s grave the other day. I°m on my way back, actually.”

She just…she doesn’t know what she’s doing, honestly. This ruin, this site of battle, is too far out of the way of Chiyo’s gravesite for Sakura to justify stopping by just because she could. She went out of her way to do this.

“I thought about lording it over you – getting your ass kicked by a kid – but now I feel…I feel kinda bad for you.” How empty had his life been that he would’ve yanked himself free of human flesh to encase in immortal wood and plastic?

Those puppets, the ones that shielded her, the ones that Chiyo called the mother and the father, are slumped on either side of Sasori. One has candy-bright red hair.

Was that his problem? Chiyo died before Sakura could understand the extent of their familial situation.

Yeah. She feels bad for him, backwards as that is. She’s felt bad when she sat in front of Lady Chiyo’s grave, noting the absence of a fourth one, and she feels bad seeing him like this, forgetting behind a pile of rubble.  She also…

“You know what else is sad? That you hated your grandmother so much. I don’t know what she did to make you hate her, but Lady Chiyo…she barely knew me, and she respected me. I haven’t gotten so much blatant respect from an authority figure since Tsunade-shishou.”

Sakura’s voice is crumbling, crumbling like the cave she and Sasori and Chiyo obliterated. The daylight, weak and fading, wavers. Her cheeks are damp.

“I liked her a lot, okay? She respected me, and…” God, it just hits her now, hits her with full force now that the adrenaline of battle has long faded. “And you did too, didn’t you?”

Her hands clamped down on a metal coil, putting all her chakra, all her strength, into bringing him down. And Sasori’s face, the way he’d looked when she’d done that – he looked proud. Or impressed. Thrilled, even.

“I…” She’s lost for words, but her body moves on its own accord before she realizes what she’s doing, kneeling down in front of the three figures.

Sakura heard of the Impure Resurrection Technique before, not enough to perform it herself, but enough to know that she couldn’t leave him here like this.

Pointless he’s called the crucial bit of information that had brought them closer to Orochimaru, closer to finding Sasuke. Pointless, he would probably call her intentions right now, carefully removing the swords from his heart before turning the body over.

The crack that she’s caused is still there.

“I would like to do something pointless for you, too.”

Her face is dry and crusted with salt when she resettles the mother and father puppets closer to Sasori, wrapping him up in their arms, in the fresh hole of dirt she’d dug a couple meters away from the cave-side.

A grave seemed pointless, now that nobody was there to visit it.

Nobody but her.

By the time she’s finished filling it back up, the sun’s long gone, leaving her in the shadows of it’s giant forest. She’s picked a couple flowers from a clearing nearby, and used her leftover bandages to build a small memorial with wood from the cave.

She takes one last look at it, drinking in the peaceful scenery around her.

She smiles.

“I…I should get going.” Sakura dusts her apron and shorts off, ready to make her return to the real world. “Thank you, Sasori.”

Writing by aprito

Ok guys, this concludes my Sasosaku month! I will be taking a break from them, to branch out a bit haha, but to answer some questions, yes, I’m going to make a fanfic out of my time travel AU, and either make a comic or fanfic of my doctor AU. Thank you guys for a great month! Can’t wait for next year! (Don’t worry, I will be drawing them again before then)

And thank you aprito for this great month!! I had a lot of fun! :D 

[black-strike-otp]

part 37

♫♪ I’m not what you’ve been looking for, but under these pieces and parts is a beautiful heart and it loves you. So meet me at midnight, find me by moonlight...  Fog starts to lift, is my mind playing tricks? Cause you look like home. Then I know this real, I trust what I feel, that neither of us has to be alone. You don’t have to be alone.  ♫♪

*bickers, argues, huffs & puffs, pushes & pulls*

Me: they love each other so much.

“Scorponok’s going to be just fine. All he needs is some time to rest and heal. The wounds on his metal plating isn’t terrible so nothing will need to be replaced, just mended. As for the leaks, they’re all minor. I’ll be sure to patch him up and let him recharge here tonight just to make sure there’s nothing else wrong, but my scans don’t show anything vital or life-altering.”

“That’s a relief,” Novastrike vented. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The medic offered a light smile down to Novastrike. “Just doing my job, little helper.”

She reached out to lightly stroke the top of Nova’s helm. A slight purr escaped her for a nanoklik before the femme removed her servo.

She turned her optics upon Blackout, looking him up and down. “I’m actually surprised you only came back with only mildly charred armor. Either you’re heeding my guidance more, or you were against some rather unsubstantial weaponry.”

A grunt escaped Blackout, crossing his arms in front of his chassis.

Flicking her optics back over to Novastrike, the medic offered a warm smile once again. “I’ll go fetch some equipment, will you be alright supervising the patient, assistant?”

A ghost of a smile grew on the small femme’s face. “Not a problem,” she softly responded.

Giving a nod, the medic turned and stepped on the opposing site of the room to fetch her supplies.

Turning back towards the bug, Novastrike gazed at the scorpion’s lightly battered armor. He was lying flat on his belly, legs sprawled out. The light of his golden optics were still bright however. He just appeared unhappy to be sitting on a berth in the medic’s office.

Something he most certainly had in common with Blackout, she mused.

“Oooh my big strong protector,” Nova praised extravagently, stepping over to wrap her arms around Scorponok’s neck. “You are so wonderful! I appreciate you soooo much!”

Slightly startled, Scorponok give a chirp of confusion.

“You did excellent,” she continued on boisterously, “Fighting try protecting me. You are such a good friend! Thank you soooo much!”

Novastrike leaned in, pressing a kiss against the side of the minicon’s helm.

A loud whirr escaped the bug and he fidgeted like he was slightly embarrassed.

Behind her, a grumble escaped Blackout as he stated, “I’m the one who came in and finished the job.”

Looking over her shoulder, Novastrike passed a roguish glance over at the enormous mech. “Awww, is someone jealous that Scorp’s getting all the attention? Did you want a kiss too, Blackout?”

A comically bright light filtered out of Satan’s optics suddenly and his shoulders thrust back.

“No,” he responded in a flat voice.

With a giggle, Nova turned back to look at Scorponok. She could tell Blackout was practically writhing in place from her question. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t have minded if he’d said just the opposite. She was too fragging glad to be back on the Rising Star and off that despicable planet, away from those fiendish creepy mechs.

Actually, she might have liked it a lot if he’d just said yes.

Moving her servo, Novastrike gently rubbed the top of Scorponok’s helm. He gave a pleased mimicked purring sound to her own and shuttered his optics slightly, venting.

“Blackout should be honored to have you by his side,” Nova cooed softly.

A pleased click escaped the bug.

She continued gently stroking the minicon’s helm lightly, only bothering to glance back at Blackout when a slight growl moved through his armor.

“Something wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have left,” he snarled. “I should have made sure that I’d taken down their entire ring. I’m sure there was more of them on that planet. I’m sure they had other victims somewhere there, too. I could have rescued them... But I wasn’t thinking clearly. I find I difficult to think rationally when I’m with you.”

Nova’s ears flicked forward. Had she... heard him properly? Did he just admit that out loud?

His troubled face though kept her from thinking on the matter longer than a few nanokliks. Offering a supportive smile, Novastrike spoke gently to the large mech: “You know, for someone who tried acting like they’re all hard edges and no spark, you really have a soft spot in you.”

A grunt escaped the titan-class obsidian mech. “I am a murderer, a liar, and a monster, and I will admit it unlike some. But even I have enough discipline and ethnics to know that there are some things that no individual should do. Abducting and using others, forcing intimacy, slavery, harming younglings and sparklings... There aren’t many lines for me, but there are still lines, and they are drawn in the blood of those who didn’t see it in the first place.”

“Hmm,” Nova hummed in the back of her throat, smiling very faintly. Even when she tried to pay him a compliment, he still turned it into a reason to bruise and beat himself. It was like it was all he knew how to do.

Maybe it was all he knew how to do.

“I don’t think you’re a monster at all. You are a lot more than the deeds you have committed.”

Surprised, Blackout opened his mouth slightly. He closed it with a frown for a few nanokliks.

“I’ve committed a lot of bad deeds.” Something about his voice almost suggested a warning.

“I’m not scared,” Nova boasted.

“You should be,” Blackout quietly responded.

“I’ve seen a lot of good in you, too,” she gently whispered. “You don’t have a clean rep, you might not have done things with the best intentions, but you are capable of so much more than what everyone’s ever told you. You’re worth more than what anyone has ever told you.”

She watched Blackout’s face change and morph. He tried hard to conceal his reactions to her words. There was a brief look of astonishment, then worry, and then... fear? No, no that couldn’t be right-

But the scent that briefly wove around him and dissipated in the air sure smelled a lot like fear.

“Alright you two,” the medic announced, startling them both as she began to walk up to them. “I’m going to have to ask you yappers to leave the room so I can work in peace, and Scorponok can get some rest and good recharge for a couple jours.”

Blackout adverted his gaze fairly quickly to the medic’s, leaving Nova to listen with a sense of sorrow. The femme’s words registered but it was like she hardly heard them. All she could do was look at the serious look on Blackout’s face turned towards the medic with disappointment.

What did she do wrong?

“Certainly,” Blackout responded in a deep voice, giving a curt nod. He turned back to Nova with a fully guarded expressionless faceplate and offered a servo. “Care for a ride?”

“Thank you,” Nova softly spoke, climbing on. She remained especially still as he brought her over to his shoulder, allowing her time to climb on and take a comfortable seat between his kibble and shards of spiky armor.

They exited the room in total silence, neither making optic contact.

~

Sipping on her energon cube nonchalantly, Novastrike watched Blackout flipping through his own datapad in front of him. He’d barely drank any of his cube since they’d sat down. In fact, since leaving the med-bay and working checking on the schematics for the shock wave generator, he hadn’t directly said much to her at all.

Her audios twitched nervously.

“So, is there something wrong with the generator?”

Blackout looked up slowly. “No,” he offered slowly. “I’m just double checking everything. Looks like we’re finally done. All it needs is a test run, much like everything else we’ve been working on.”

“I see,” Nova commented softly.

Blackout stared at her a few moments longer; his optics lingering before he turned back to his datapad.

Once again the dreadful feeling of the setback began to discourage her. Tightening her servos around her cube, she felt the fire rise in her spark and rise up. A fierce light entered her optics a she stood up, catching Blackout’s attention.

“Why don’t you stop what you’re doing?” she offered. “I never did show you what I got from the market.”

Appearing unimpressed, the massive mech gave a short nod of his helm and relented, placing his datapad down.

“Alright,” he complied. “Lets see it.”

Nova placed her servos on her hips. “Must you be such a crankcase?”

“I knew a mech named Crankcase,” Blackout mused suddenly. “He was indeed, very cranky.”

“Was... was that a joke?”

“No. Why?”

“It sure sounded like one of your jokes.”

Blackout shot her a look and she merely snickered, waving a servo at him.

Dashing across the room, Novastrike grabbed the container and carried it over, dropping it heavily upon the floor. Her servos dug in to start pulling out items as she crouched, lying them on the ground in front of the box so that Blackout could see them.

He arched an optic ridge slowly. “Are those sharpening utensils?”

“Yeah. I thought you might like to have your blades worked on.”

“You got those for me?”

“I did, why?”

Nova looked up, peering at Blackout’s face. He seemed slightly unsure of himself now as he watched her.

Offering a lopsided grin, the little femme picked out the rest of the things she’d purchased save for the microfiber clothes and looked it over. She gave a slight impressed grin to herself.

“I got some polish, too. I figured you might want it for your armor. I thought about using some on myself too. Been a while since I looked spiffy,” she admitted self-consciously.

A light smile appeared on the mech’s face, shaking his helm slightly. “I disagree with that. You always look nice.”

She stuck out her glossia in response.

Standing at full height once again, Nova walked over to where Blackout sat. He looked slightly confused as she advanced on him, much to her amusement. What was she going to do to a mech his size? Bore him to death?

In a single bound, Novastrike launched herself up and onto Satan’s shoulder.

Giving a thoughtful hum, she dropped down to her knees and reached along Blackout’s back. “Now, lets see here,” she quietly muttered to herself.

The confusion swiftly melted from Blackout’s faceplate, though she didn’t see it. He gave a jolt, quickly reaching over his shoulder to swat at her lightly.

“Stop that!” he insisted in a gravely tone.

“How else am I supposed to figure out how to get to your blades?” Novastrike insisted.

Blackout fidgeted slightly. He could feel the caress of Nova’s digits along his rotor mount as she tried to figure out how to dislodge it. The feeling wasn’t entirely pleasant. If anything, it was far too pleasant.

“Get off of me,” he growled. “I’ll remove it myself.”

“You and your foul attitude,” Nova chided. “Always so edgy the moment someone places a servo on you. Fine, fine I’m getting off- enough being grabby!”

She carefully patted at Blackout’s servo until he retracted it enough for her to be able to hop off without smacking into his arm. Her pedes hit the ground with a light bounce as she sprang up slightly to keep her impact light. She turned a sideways glance to Blackout, offering a lightly vexed look.

He wasn’t even staring at her. Leaning forward, the big guy reached around and detached the mount of his rotors and along with it, his blades from the axel mast. Pieces of armor on his backside shifted slightly to cover the exposed sensitive wiring on his backside and he leaned back, fanning out his blades across the floor.

“There. Happy?”

“Can you disconnect your smaller ones in your arm?” she suggested.

“One at a time, Nova, we might not be able to finish these before you get too tired. Usual recharge jour is only in a couple more jours.”

“We?” Nova echoed.

Blackout offered a deep chuckle. “You thought I was going to let you do this alone? You might not even know what you’re doing.”

A heated, angry blush formed over Nova’s ears as she drew her mouth into a thin line. “I am very capable at sharpening blades, thank you. I was the one maintaining weapons for our group on Cybertron. That included swords, knives, arm-blades, and more. You insult me.”

“My apologies,” Blackout offered with a surprising amount of sincerity. “At the very least, consider it a helpful servo so that you’re not taking all evening. Four servos work faster than two.”

Heat simmered in Novastrike’s ears a moment longer, and then the glow began to deplete as she vented. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”

Bending down, Novastrike snatched up the first file. She heeded no mind to the sudden change in the air’s pressure a few feet from her. Even without turning, she knew that Blackout’s holoform was materializing.

It brought back a strange wave of feelings and emotions she quickly kicked off to the side.

Dropping down to her knees, Novastrike began at the tip of one of Blackout’s blades. Filing along the edge at an angle in slow, precise strokes. She had a feeling her companion would start on another blade, and was brilliantly surprised when he dropped down across from her.

“I have this one,” she tartly remarked.

Blackout offered a coy look. “My blades, I start where I want.”

“You stubborn aft.”

“Would you like me otherwise?”

“Probably much more.”

“Now that’s just hurtful.”

Giving a sassy flip of her helm, Novastrike leaned down to look at what she was doing rather than risk damaging the blades getting lost in Blackout’s optics.

They worked quietly for a time. Keeping an even pace with each other, following the pattern and grade of his blade all the way down to the mount. It left a jagged edge to the sides of his blade, but that was where the other steps came in.

First over to the equipment, Novastrike went to grab a whetstone and the container of oil. As she stood up she gave a squeak, feeling something nudge her.

She tossed a glance down and then up at Blackout’s mocking faceplate.

“Did you just hip-check me?” she hissed, flustered.

“You move too slow,” he teased. “And you took the only bottle of oil.”

“Mind your business,” Nova growled.”

“You plan on sharing that bottle, right?” Blackout asked, following her with his optics as she swiftly turned around.

“Don’t fall behind where I have to reach more than across the blade to hand it to you, and we’ll see,” she countered.

Plopping back down on her knees, the small femme pulled one of the clothes off of her hip and dabbed it with oil. She ran it slowly across the edges of the blade, studying how it glinted a semi-transparent brownish-black over the top.

As she reached for the bottle to dab some more, a servo shot over and snatched it up.

“Hey!”

“My turn.”

Huffing indignantly, Novastrike shifted the blade and began running the whetstone at a tilted slant over the metal.

Stupid mech. Grabbing things she was using without asking. Hip-checking her.

“Excuse me, Novastrike?”

She looked up slightly, her optics showing unpleasantness.

“You look like you got something, right there-”

A startled squeal escaped Nova as Blackout smudged some of the oil on her cheek.

“Why would you even do that?!” she hissed, reaching up with the cloth to try rubbing it off.

“To help you look sharp,” Blackout proudly remarked.

Embarrassed and caught off guard by the flirtatious comment (it was flirty, right?), Nova stared at his dumb cheeky grin.

“You think you’re so fragging clever,” she growled.

“Well, I don’t know-”

Wringing up her cloth, Novastrike snapped it at Blackout.

His optics flashed, growing darker as he looked down to see the splatters of oil on him.

“Ha!” Novastrike sneered. “See what you get, being a moron?”

Blackout slowly looked back up at her triumphant face. His own said murder, but his optics looked amused.

He tilted the bottle towards her.

“Don’t. You. Da-”

Oil splattered on her chassis.

“By Primus nnaaammmee,” Nova drawled out furiously. She went from looking down at herself to Blackout, who was laughing so hard he was clutching at his chassis and had his optics shuttered.

Lashing her tail back and forth, Novastrike pounced, slamming into Blackout’s chassis. He gave a cry of surprise as he fell no his backside, with Nova half positioned on him and half on the floor.

Novastrike snorted up at him with satisfaction, an unfathomably bright light in her optics. “Feeling proud of yourself now?” she questioned.

Blackout reached out, placing his servo on her helm with a warm smile. Nova felt chills race down her spinalstrut. She felt breathless. His optics were shining brightly at her.

And then the oil began to slide down her helm and drip off her.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, the smile turning into a massive grin.

Nova whacked him upside the helm. “I hate you,” she growled.

“You too,” Blackout snickered, shoving her off him.

Flopping over onto her back, Nova made a quiet ‘oof’ sound as she landed. She turned her helm to look at Blackout, and found that he had already turned his helm to look at her.

Her lips upturned into an even bigger grin, lightly elbowing Blackout in the side.

He raised his left arm and threw it over her, causing another ‘oof’ from the weight of his limb.

She didn’t know how long they’d just laid there, staring at each other, but it felt like a lifetime to remember.

[inkshares]

Q&A with Space Tripping author Patrick Edwards, winner of the Nerdist Space Opera Contest

Patrick Edwards is the author of Space Tripping, one of the top three winners in last year’s Nerdist Space Opera Contest. His debut sci-fi comedy hits bookstores (real brick-and-mortar ones) March 7th. In the following Q&A, Patrick’s reveals the secrets to his creative method, his inspiration for writing the most hilarious and absurd sci-fi comedy this side of the universe, and his upcoming projects.

Patrick was born and raised in Chicago, went to Augustana College in IL, where he majored in business studies, with a minor in amateur libation studies (“mostly of the beer variety”). He currently lives in Cincinnati with his wife, Katie, and new baby, Gabriella Rose, who was born in the midst of the Nerdist Space Opera Contest.

Inkshares: To start, please describe your book in one haiku.

Patrick:

Surviving in space

Much easier when sober

But that's not much fun

Inkshares: OK, now let’s get serious: which Hogwarts house do you belong to?

Patrick: Hang on a sec. Let me finish this online quiz. Oh! Oh dear… It says Slytherin.

I’m going to try a different one… and here we go, clicking “submit” and...Hufflepuff?! What?! No, that can’t be right.

Let’s try one more. Okay, this one says I’m a Lumberjack from District 7… I don’t even think that’s the right literary universe.

I’m just going to create my own. I am a member of House… Chucklesworth.

Inkshares: That must be at Ilvermorny. At Hogwarts, I’d say you’re a SlytherPuff. Where were you when you thought of this book idea?

Patrick:  Physically? Planet Earth.

Mentally? Three glasses deep into a cheap bottle of wine.  

Inkshares: Would you tell us about your writing process? Are you the binge-writing type? Caffeine addict? Coffee shop writer?

Patrick:  Ha, calling it a "process" is giving me way too much credit. I'm an "anytime, anywhere" writer. Those picturesque writing scenarios where you have three hours to yourself, a quiet room, and a cup of coffee don't happen in my life. I realized early on that if I only write under "ideal" settings, I'd never finish the book. I probably wrote at least half of Space Tripping on my phone. I'd have fifteen or twenty minutes, and hammer out a few sentences in an email to myself. Later, I'd piece it all together and clean it up. It wasn't something that came naturally, but I was determined to finish the book, so I found a way.

Inkshares: How long did you work on this book from forming the idea to finishing the manuscript?

Patrick:  It was about fifteen months from the day I wrote the first line, to the day I wrote "The End" on my first draft. Funnily enough, I was on my honeymoon when I finished... but don't judge me! My wife likes to sleep in. I'm an early riser. So for once, I actually had a few of those mythical "picturesque writing scenarios" I mentioned in the previous question.

Inkshares: Do you believe in aliens?

Patrick: There's a conspicuous gentleman in a black suit and sunglasses looming over me, so let's just say that I don't not believe in aliens.

Inkshares: Writing is hard. Why do you do it? Is there a piece of literature that inspired you to become an author?

Patrick: It's so eye-rollingly cliché, but it just feels like what I'm supposed to be doing. Trust me, I want to punch myself in the face for that answer too. I've been interested in creative matters (art, writing, etc.) since childhood. I actually started college with the intention of majoring in art and literature. I even convinced one of my freshman professors to let me write a short story for my final essay instead of the research paper he'd assigned.

But somewhere along the line, I got it in my head that it'd be more reasonable and realistic to go into business. So, that's what I did. Then through most of my twenties, I never felt fully together. When I got back into writing... brace yourself for another lame cliché... it felt like I was myself again.

Regarding books that inspired me, anyone who's read Space Tripping could guess I'm big fan of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Additionally, I absolutely cherish Terry Pratchett's (R.I.P.) Discworld series. I love anything that dumps the tropes and clichés of an established genre into a sandbox and plays around with them in a humorous manner.

My biggest childhood influences were the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip —so much fun re-reading those as an adult and picking up the stuff I missed as a kid—and Bruce Coville's Aliens Ate My Homework series.

Inkshares: What was the first thing you ever wrote?

Patrick: In 5th Grade, I wrote a comic that was a shameless Wolverine knockoff. I'm pretty sure the hero's name was "Razor" and his nemesis was "Doomcla."

Inkshares: A little alien told me that you are an illustrator as well. How does your love for comics influence your writing?

Patrick: That little alien needs to keep his three mouths shut. But yes, I am a huge comics fan. Most of what I write starts with me visualizing the scene, as if it were a comic. Then I try to write out what I'm picturing. A lot of my ideas start as comics, but illustrating takes more time than I have these days.

So, if you're reading this and you're an illustrator, hit me up. Let's make something weird and cool.

Inkshares: What advice would you give to writers trying to hit a funding goal on Inkshares?

Patrick: It is not a passive endeavor. You are going to have to work as hard, if not harder, than you worked on the actual book. Slick cover art and a gripping synopsis won't cut it. You need to get out there and spread the word. It's like having another job.

Inkshares: What do you hope readers take away from your book?

Patrick: A stomachache from laughing too much. Seriously. I'm not looking to achieve any literary breakthroughs here. I just like writing things that make people smile.

Inkshares: What are you reading right now?

Patrick: The Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss, because he has a great first name. And I guess it's also because, you know, he's an exceptional writer... or whatever.

Inkshares: If your story was made into a TV show or movie, who would be cast to play Chuck and Jopp?

Patrick: While they'd each bring a distinctly different vibe to Chuck, my first thoughts went to either Elijah Wood or Dave Franco. I'd also be interested to see what Riz Ahmed from HBO's The Night Of could do in the role.

For Jopp, my first choice would be Kevin Hart. Though I could also see Adam Devine from Workaholics play him as well.

Inkshares: Was there a particular moment or event that was harder to write than the rest of the story?

Patrick: Action sequences. They were definitely the hardest. There's a lot of moving parts to a big fight or chase scene. You want to clearly describe what is happening without writing so much text that it slows down the pace of the scene. It was a tricky balance to find.

Inkshares: What surprised you about the publishing process?

Patrick: The amount of time and number of steps involved. Space Tripping’s publishing date is March 7th. The Space Opera contest ended last year on March 14th, and I already had a finished manuscript at that point. I found it to be a pleasant surprise. It was comforting to see how much professionalism and effort Inkshares puts into the process.

(So...uh... when do I get my fifty bucks for that shameless promotion?)

Inkshares: Haha you can take that up with the boss. What would you like to say to your Inkshares backers?

Patrick: Thank you. A million times, thank you.

Also, your next round of drinks is on me.

Inkshares: Would you like to tell us about any upcoming projects?

Patrick: Well, of course I'm working on a Space Tripping sequel, but we have quite a while until that could conceivably be released. There are a number of events/conventions later this year that I'll be attending, some in a professional capacity, some as simply a fan. If you want updates on all that, by all means, feel free to follow me on Twitter @RamblingWaffle, or check out my sites: ramblingwaffle.com & spacetrippingbook.com

And before you ask, that Twitter handle has a long and uninteresting back story. Please trust me, it is not worth the time it takes to explain it. Ok, fine, you twisted my arm. Here's the story:

So there I was, trapped in the Syrup Swamps of the Lost Peninsula. I had a half-drunk bottle of maple rum in one hand, and the ancient book of Blessed Recipes in the other. The Great Pancake loomed over me... his rows of teeth glistening in the early morning light. I knew if I didn't stop him here and now, he would consume every innocent resident of the nearby village, Breakfast Bluffs. So, without a moment's hesitation, I took a swig of rum, held the sacred book high, and-

Oh, would you look at the time? I gotta run. We'll have to finish this story later.

A big thanks to Patrick Edwards for putting up with these hard-hitting questions! Interested in his work? Space Tripping is available March 7th.

To pre-order, visit: https://www.inkshares.com/books/space-tripping, or find a paperback copy anywhere books are sold.

[evnoweb]

Who said that?

Looking back at 2018, I smile at some of the wonderful comments that have appeared on this blog in response to some of my posts.

Do you see yourself in there? Do you see others?

1 I had forgotten about that commercial! Thanks for the umm… blast from the past, Doug! I was surprised that it did have a “violent” part. That part didn’t stick in my memory, but the “blue” light did! Sorry to hear of your incident! Here’s to more uneventful walks with the dog..  I had a good smile with Andrew’s comment too. I have searched youtube to confirm quotes and lines from TV shows and movies as well… just to be sure   A recent attempt was: “It’s cold enough out there to freeze your Winnebago!” Like Aviva, I have always wondered about how graphic a message needs to be to stick. I worry that it goes too far at times, especially in consideration of young children. I guess there might be individual differences in regards to what will “hit home”, but…

2 Oh, going to have to try this one out – looks like a lot of fun! (and I will suggest it to some people I know, since I don’t have a classroom to play in right now). Thanks, as ever!

3 Thanks for including me Doug. Still fighting that bug, but class back up to 65%! Listened to the show (twioe) last night…awesome as always. Got a chuckle over Stephen’s mention of “the Good Room” and all the banter between you, as always. Keep on keeping on!

4 Love the post. It made me think about what my role is. Probably a lot more Bluesman than thought leader I guess. But really I started to think that is just important to do what I can do and let other people think about labels. I’m just a teacher with opinions and a blog. That’s good enough for me I think.

5 Hi Doug, and all:) Here is my addition – if I ever hear the word Wheelhouse again it will be too soon. Also I will probably get in trouble for this but I don’t like all the Like a Pirate business. For heaven’s sake. Pirates are real. They steal and murder people. I am working on another blog post, a more thoughtful consideration of the word “modern” – which really has an existing definition and has been co-opted more recently to mean “contemporary.” I know, I am so fussy:)

6 I like Broadway http://fontsgeek.com/fonts/Broadway-Regular, but I have a weakness for art deco fonts. It’s too decorative to read though, but good for posters and titles. For reading I usually go for arial but recently have been preferring Trebuchet https://www.myfonts.com/fonts/microsoft/trebuchet/?gclid=Cj0KCQiAiKrUBRD6ARIsADS2OLn1B3-UN6EjbTMRsPmw2xTQWIwFrCXNtyTxAmFoh7p_XYxWjXX_lzYaAlJVEALw_wcBit’s nice and clean. Oddly, if I’m going for a computer styled font I use something like Courier which is a web friendly way to imitate those old fixed width fonts https://www.myfonts.com/fonts/microsoft/courier-new/?gclid=Cj0KCQiAiKrUBRD6ARIsADS2OLnfMx1LblHmfXsmRm32zv_x9kHDMf5_ySTNErPWQ_7GmrGvY-qQCsMaApnbEALw_wcB If you’ve never messed around with fonts, you’re missing something.

7 My teaching partner and I used to do ‘a theme’, back when themes were a thing in kindergarten, around EGGS at Easter time. We did different experiments with eggs each day – how many books can we stack on a raw egg before it breaks, what happens when you soak an egg in vinegar, sinking and floating eggs, spinning eggs (raw eggs wobble, hard cooked eggs spin) and so on. We read lots of books about animals that hatch from eggs. My favourite was always “Chickens aren’t the only ones” by Ruth Heller. Like you, many of our children didn’t celebrate Easter but they were seeing eggs and bunnies everywhere in stores and on TV.

8 Thank you for capturing two days of amazing learning and connecting for us Doug. It was a pleasure to finally have some conversation time with you and I am glad Steven Hurley didn’t beam us up with his modern day transcorder. Appreciate the power that comes in building bridges in this business and you sir are a bridge builder. Looking forward to our next conversation. W

9 Our mornings begin with the fragrance of espresso filling the air. Milk is heated, the espresso is added to the hot milk and voilà, the magic potion is ready. When we go out, we seldom stop to buy coffee anywhere. We caddy thermos cups of our home brew. If we run out of the elixir…tea it is. When we have friends join us for a formal meal, we usually end the meal with a demitasse of espresso…except for the tea drinkers. We like it that espresso has a lower caffeine content than drip coffee: https://recipes.howstuffworks.com/question645.htm Of course, current science might draw different conclusions.

10 … that look of betrayal on my wife’s face when I mentioned that I am trying to quit with coffee. She, up to several years ago, hated the stuff. Hated the smell, the taste, the satisfied look on my face as relaxed through my second or third cup in the morning. I guess it was my fault. Someway somehow, she now can’t start her day without it. My attempt at scaling back my caffeine consumption has put my life is in danger. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I shouldn’t have even written this post. If my blog goes dark for a while its because I am in hiding. Tell my wife, I was wrong … oh so wrong …

11 Hi Doug, thanks for sharing your learning from the Ontario Summit. To add to this already great resource, here is a link to all of the presenter’s resources from the weekend: https://edtech.team/OntarioResources18 – Lots more goodies there!

12 I saw this presentation at SIGCSE and left with mixed feelings. The session was pitched as ML for CS teachers with little CS knowledge. The pizza app is cool but I left thinking that there was a big missing piece which was the actual under the hood ML. It looks great as a tool where the teacher is already knowledgeable but I don’t know how much serious mileage a class will get out of it beyond being a cool demo if the teacher doesn’t already know the subject.

13 I love to sew, but hardly have the time. I go by feel when choosing fabric for any project or any “already made” clothes. I don’t care what it’s called – I only care about how it feels and how well it will wash. I do not remember the fabric you’re talking about, though I feel as if I should. My mom used to see for me, so I likely had many things made from it.

14 Morning Doug, this brought to mind attendance tracking of students and how if they are going to leave or walk out consequnces mean nothing. The reason you give them to stay is far more powerful. I think folks need to understand the purpose but more importantly if you leave the impression, regardless of this is it’s purpose that people’s whereabouts are what we are starting with and not the culture of a welcoming, inclusive and non intrusive learning environment, the same thing will happen as it does in a secondary school…they opt out as it is no longer about the them but the system they exist within.

15 Good morning Doug! (and Jamie) I’m glad you guys keep your eyes open when you’re out for your walks. There’s no doubt that keeping an eye out for other vehicles, cyclists, and pedestrians (and dogs) is a critical responsibility for motor vehicle drivers. I was pleased to read your “exit, stage left“ quote, And even happier when I saw that you had included a picture of SnagglePuss. You are smarter than the average bear.

16 I don’t remember exactly when Chrome came out, but I do for Gmail. I went straight to eBay and bought an invitation so I could join. It cost me $5. The invitation also included another new Google service. Do you remember what it was?

17 I noticed this too when watching cartoons with my nephews. There also seemed to be a whole lot of yelling. Okay now I’m sounding like the old guy who just wants the kids to get off his lawn. I loved the old Hanna-Barbara cartoons from the mid-60’s. Space Ghost, Frankenstein Jr. and The Impossibles, the original Scooby-Doo, Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines, The Herculoids, The Banana Splits Adventure Hour – that one was pretty weird, but I did teach some of my grade 6’s the theme song, Jonny Quest and the Jetsons. I kind of thought we’d be living like the Jetsons by now. At least I thought they would have finished repairing all the roads.

18 Hey Doug, As always your posts seem so timely. Today on my way home from church I noticed a few trees in the neighbourhood who have started to show your beautiful fall colors. I couldn’t help but recall several projects that I had to complete as a child where we would go out into the neighbourhood and find several fall leaves. We then needed to place the leaves in between two pieces of wax paper and iron them . To be honest, I don’t recall what the intended learning outcome was… But what I do remember was that it was a project that my mom and I needed to do together (hot irons and safety) . Sometimes it is those unintended outcomes (special time with a parent) which are just as meaningful as the curriculum outcomes.

19 I have never heard of Qwant until you mentioned it. I also gave it a try and I must admit that it is a very impressive search engine. I used the Brave web browser in the past; I had no issues with it. In my case, I utilise the Google Chrome web browser, because I use certain extensions. The Brave web browser loads quickly.

20 Hey! This is the fourth time visiting now and I personally just wanted to say I truley enjoy reading your blog site. I’ve decided to bookmark it at reddit.com with the title: %BLOGTITLE% and your Web address: %BLOGURL%. I hope this is alright with you, I’m trying to give your great blog a bit more coverage. Be back shortly.

21 Do you worry about free services going away after a while? = Sometimes. I’m still wounded about the closing of Bitstrips for Schools (which I liked waaaaaay better than Pixton – sorry, Pixton). It went so fast that I couldn’t collect all the old comics I wanted to archive (so Jacob, if you are reading this, please let us grab our files for a quick, one week period, please!) What is your contingency plans in case that happens? = Wish I had one! Do you backup your online presence in case it goes away? = I print my blogs as a birthday gift to myself once a year. I did a Twournal for the first part of my tweeting, but I’d love to back up all my Tweets in a print format. Now you’ve got me paranoid Doug!

Thanks to those who took time to share a comment throughout 2018. I hope that I can write on topics that will continue the efforts in 2019.

Who said that? published first on https://medium.com/@DigitalDLCourse