#“Baby its nothing new. Since the start it was all planned out and always hard”*clasps hands behind back and looks longingly out at an ocean

[youredreamingofroo]

the way Roo, Leo and Nirvana all have primarily Ricky Montgomery songs as potentials for the on repeat thing rn...

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.

Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.

"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.

"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."

Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."

You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."

He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."

You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.

His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."

"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.

You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"

Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."

He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."

"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"

"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."

"A cake?" you gasped.

Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."

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

The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.

"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.

"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."

You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."

"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.

"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.

You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."

Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."

"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.

"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement. 

"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.

Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."

For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.

"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.

"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.

"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.

"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"

He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.

"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.

"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."

"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.

"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."

Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"

She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.

"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"

Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.

"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."

You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."

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

It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked. 

"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.

"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.

"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."

Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.

"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."

He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.

He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."

Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.

"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."

When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.

"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.

You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.

"Roo."

Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.

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

Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.

Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."

"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."

"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.

You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.

"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"

You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.

"Did you finish eating dinner?"

"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."

Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.

"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."

"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."

He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"

You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."

"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."

You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.

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

You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."

His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."

Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"

You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."

Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."

It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you. 

As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.

"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."

As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.

"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."

Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.

After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.

"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.

"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.

"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.

Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.

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

Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.

"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.

"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.

Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet. 

"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.

But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."

A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"

Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.

"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.

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

Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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@local-spidey

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@furiousladyking

[celestialh4ven]

Fucktoy

Currently gripping my sheets

summary: smut

pairing: Miguel O’hara x Fem!Reader x Spider Noir

cw : smut, double penetration, took a trip to POUND TOWN, dirty talk, praise.

wc: 908

Not proofread!

masterlist

—————————————————————————————

It’s dark and rainy here in New York. The city is bustling with citizens going about with their day now that Spider-Man— er Spider-Mans (Spider Noir and Miguel) and Woman (aka you) have saved the day yet again! Being Spider-Woman was not easy, and it didn’t get any easier when two incredibly hot Spider-Men came falling from the sky into your universe. At that point, you didn’t care enough to question why, and eventually, you three became a team, fighting bad guys together as people stared, confused at why one guy was completely black and white. You three never really got along, well, more like you didn’t get along with them.

They were super hard-headed and destructive when fighting, but because of that, the battles were relatively short. You prioritized fighting in a way that hardly damaged the city or its civilians, though the fights took much longer. They would always tease you about it, and you hated them for it. In fact, you hated them, period. Well, that's what you would usually tell yourself.

But now look at you.

Miguel’s face in between your thighs, and Peter’s dick hitting the very back of your throat. How did you get into this situation? You had no clue and you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was getting out all the stress you accumulated from being Spider-Woman, and what better way to do that than a threesome?

You pulled your head back to catch your breath, drool still connecting you and Peter’s now completely erect dick. “Wanna feel… the both of you inside me…” Your words shocked the two men, they originally planned to take turns with you so your words stunned them a bit, but who were they to complain?

“Alright then” Peter nodded “ Whaddya say, I take the front you take the back?” Peter said looking down and Miguel who continued to devour you down there.

“Fine by me,” Miguel replied. Soon you found yourself sandwiched between them, Peter positioned himself on top of you, while Miguel positioned himself underneath. With no warning, they both slid inside of you, it was very easy to do so since you were dripping wet.

“Fuck….” You moaned, “Feeling good darling?” Noir asked grinning. You were about to respond until, “Now what would people think if they knew how their lovely Spider-Woman was getting dicked down like this huh?” Miguel interrupted. You felt embarrassed at his words and hid you face in Peter’s chest, “Shut up Miguel and just start moving…” Miguel wasted no time and started to thrust into you and Peter follower suit.

“Fucckkkk….” You moaned again.

You couldn’t lie, this felt so good. You could feel them both stretching you out, it almost felt like you were about to rip in half. “Feels so good…” you moaned out. “Yeah, I know it does baby…” Peter grunted. “Joder, estás tan apretado…fuck…” Miguel groaned as he thrusted up faster inside you. “Oh, FUCK!” You exclaimed “k…keep doing just that….” “Will do” Miguel replied.

Peter was more on the romantic side, constantly building up as he went, so while Miguel was pounding up into you from the back, he was teasing your nipples with his tongue and pacing his thrusts, so the more intense he got the faster his thrusts would get.

“You look stunning like this,” Peter said as he pulled you in closer for a kiss. You felt like you were on cloud nine, with the two of them just having their way with you and you not being able to do anything but take it.

“You’re being such a good girl, you deserve a reward, no?” Peter asked and you just nod your head as drool starting to form at the edge of your lip. Soon enough, Peter quickened his pace to that of Miguel’s. Now they were both pounding into you. Nothing but moans, groans and grunts could be heard in your tiny little apartment.

“Fuck. Te gusta ser follada así, ¿eh?“ Miguel grunted into your ear. “Chicas cachondas como tú amas ser follada por dos hombres eh?” You responded with nothing but a moan. “Respóndeme muñeca.” He said as his fangs grazed your now sensitive neck. “Y…yes I like being fucked by the two of you…” you breathed out.

“You’re torturing the poor girl, Miguel,” Peter chucked.

You felt something rise in your belly, you were getting close.

“M��� gonna cum…” you said with a whisper

“Hmm? What’s that darling” Peter asked

“M’ gonna…fuck…I’m…cu…” you didn’t get to finish speaking before you came gushing all over the both of them. Wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the bed.

The men both pause for a second

“Would y’a look at that…” Peter groaned “Never took you for a squirter,”

You were gone at that point, eyes rolled back, legs given up, and arms wrapped around Peter’s neck hanging on for dear life.

The men both looked at each other, then nodded. And soon enough they starting thrusting again, this time, much more synchronized.

“It’s no fun that only you get to have you release, now is it?” Peter whispered into your ear. “We’re not stopping until we fuck you full love, okay?”

And that is exactly what they did.

[141trash]

rating: sfw (brief mentions of sex, but no graphic anything)

Captain John Price x Reader

AN: Somehow this ended up with very little actual Price in it, but I have plans and he will be more prominent. I just have word vomit rn and needed to get everything down

imagine having a one time fling with Price after your husband leaves you for another one because you just can't seem to get pregnant and he wants a family.

It was a good romp, he was a bit gruff, but was super sweet afterwards with the aftercare. he even stayed to buy you breakfast the next morning. Months later you've been focused on yourself, getting your life together and learning what it means to move on.

Only you've been feeling rather ill the last couple days. And then you remember you're late. Which isn't entirely unusual, sometimes you miss a period when you're stressed and the last couple months finding your feet have been stressful. Still you go to the doctors and its there you remember your night with Price, definitely can't remember if he used a condom or not, and you know you hadn't been on birth control since previously you'd been trying for a baby.

Oops you're pregnant.

The timeline fits that it's his and not your now ex-husband's and part of you is instantly hugely relieved about that.

You leave the doctor's office in a bit of a daze. It doesn't sink in until you're stumbling your way into the cafe you own/manage and you promptly dissolve into a fit of tears in the backroom, much to your teeny bopper part timer's utter horror.

Pregnant. You're fucking pregnant. You're elated, over the moon because you had always wanted kids. (yeah adoption's a thing, but in some places its really hard to adopt if you're single and you weren't ready for another relationship after the last trainwreck). You're also fucking terrified because holy shit you have no plan. Nothing is ready. You live in a tiny flat in the city with one bedroom because why would you need more than that?

Your friend appears in the back room as your mind is going a million miles a minute, turns out your part timer had panicked and called her. You breakdown again in her arms and tell her the news. She reminds you that you're not alone even though you're not in a relationship and that you will have all the support that you need.

With her help you start to prepare for the baby. Things move quickly, you're so busy getting things ready, searching for a larger flat, buying things, filling your head with every single bit of parenting knowledge you can get your head on. All your regular customers say that you're glowing, they've never seen you happier.

You've recorded every little thing since finding out you were pregnant. kept print outs of every scan. More than once you find yourself staring out the window, guiltily wondering about whether or not Price would have wanted to know. Not that you have any way of contacting him. You knew he was military, from the dog tags he'd had hanging around his neck, but not much more.

The first time you feel the baby kicking is when you're in the middle of a shift. Its the slow time of day so you're cleaning up the tables when you gasp suddenly. The girl behind the counter is by your side in an instant, babbling questions making sure you're okay. She's sweet and like your friend has been beside you since you found out.

"I'm fine Cally. The baby kicked." you announce, beaming brightly. She squeals and begs to be allowed to feel next time the baby kicks. Before you can do more the bell above the door dings and you both automatically turn, your customer service smiles back on. Only.

"John?" Your mouth drops open in surprise. Standing there looking oddly sheepish is the man you hadn't thought you'd ever see again. The man whose baby was currently kicking as if demanding your attention.

His eyes sweep over you appreciatively, though when he sees your obvious pregnancy he freezes. The shock of seeing him makes your legs weak. Cally lets out a panicked yelp when you knees buckle, but he's already darting forward, catching your arms gently and helping you to a seat.

"Careful there sweetheart." he says and god does that warm your chest. You remember the last time you heard him say that, it had been when you'd bumped into him in the bar.

"What are you doing here?" you ask breathlessly as Cally scurries off to get you a drink and he glances at you for permission before pulling a chair up next to you.

"Remembered you talking about your dream of opening a café. When i got back to town I spotted the name nd wondered if it was just a coincidence." he tells you, but you can see his eyes keep drifting towards your stomach. He's obviously trying to figure out if its his. But it takes a moment for you to respond because you can't believe that he remembered that. It'd been an offhanded comment you'd made while the two of you had been enjoying late night takeout before going at it another round.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you put a hand over his, biting your lip, "Listen. I. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything. I would have told you sooner only I didn't have any way to contact you."

"It's mine." he says for you. You nod, cursing inwardly when tears start to sting your eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Like I said. I'm doing fine. I don't expect anything from you. I've got a plan. I'm looking for bigger flats."

He stares at you in silence, expression unreadable. You worry for a minute about what he's going to say. You've been prone to overthinking everything since becoming pregnant and now suddenly having the father of your child reappearing in your life. It's a lot.

John squeezes your hand gently halting the panic as you look back up at him.

"I would very much like to be able to meet the kid when they get here. If you'd let me." he tells you hesitantly, "Being in the Military I don't know how often I'd be able to be around, but if you let me I'd like to be in their life."

All of your emotions flood you like a tidal wave at his confession. You burst into tears, letting him pull you into a firm, but careful hug.

"Yes. Of course. I just didn't want you to feel like I was pressuring you. You have every right to know them too." You promise tearfully, smiling at him as he thumbs the tears from your cheeks.

He insists on exchanging numbers so he can contact you and in case you need anything. He won't always be able to answer, but he promises to do his best. Then he bashfully asks if you'll tell him about what's happened so far. Shyly you tell him you've written the entire experience and kept the scans.

He eventually leaves you to get back to work, but the copy of the ultrasound photos you kept in your wallet is tucked into his jacket pocket and he promised to meet you at your flat for dinner and to collect your pregnancy journal so he can catch up on everything.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [14]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety over appearance, past medical trauma, sexual tension, like so much sexual tension, some heavy petting, slow burn (i use it as a warning here b/c it’s gonna feel like an attack by time you’re through with this chapter lol)

Word Count: 4,682

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #14: AM I MAKING YOU QUIVER?

Chapter Summary: Exploration and Anticipation

“i must have loved you in other lives because when i see you it feels like coming home. no one makes me feel more myself than you. when my hand is in yours it’s familiar and safe, like i’ve known your soul since the beginning of time, through all the lives i’ve lived. maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.” --m.m.

This was the first time you woke up beside Din. Up until now, every moment that involved him taking you to bed or falling asleep on him ended with you waking up alone. Alone or with Grogu. Din always seemed to be up before you. There was absolutely nothing comfortable about the cot you were laying on. At baseline it was hard and covered with crinkling, thin sterile paper. It was also only large enough for one person. Which, granted, with Grogu alone on it the cot had looked massive, but now it held Din, Grogu, and you. You were startled that you hadn’t woken up on the floor.

You had Din to thank for that. He laid on his back, armor and helmet present, with Grogu sleeping soundly on his chest. You laid half on his side, curled around him, but he had one arm under you and resting on your waist clinging to you tightly. Saving you from sleeping on the hard, tile floor wasn’t the only thing you had to thank him for.

Last night had been… difficult. Nothing short of the Maker himself was going to stop you from doing everything in your power to heal Grogu, and even then the Maker might not be able to hold you back, but the cost had been steep. The moment your body registered that Grogu was safe, vitals steady and father in the room, you had crumpled in on yourself like a dying star. Every single demon that called your mind home crawled out of the wood works to plague you.

Surely, you thought, they’d devour you whole and leave you an empty shell. Yet, here you were. Still alive, still functioning, and⏤ dank farrik⏤ you were content. Content, borderline happy. An emotion you thought would be impossible after the events of last night. You felt safe. Lying here, watching Din and Grogu sleep peacefully, Din’s arm clinging to you, you felt like there wasn’t a force in this galaxy that could touch you. Over the last year, a lot of people promised that you’d be protected. Many swore that nothing would hurt you. 

Din was the only one you believed.

Despite wanting to stay in this moment forever, you knew you needed to rise. There were things you needed to collect and, though you had revealed a lot of who you were last night, it’d be nice to not have an audience. Carefully, you untangled yourself from Din’s arm. He stirred for a moment, but you whispered a reassurance. It was a testament to how exhausted the Mandalorian was as he laid his head back and dozed off once more.

As you stood, that’s when the aches began to settle from the night you had. The cot, and technically Din’s armored body, had not been forgiving to your skin, bones, or joints. You stretched as you walked over to the medical shelves. You wanted to make another two doses of the antipyretic, just to have on hand, and an additional dose of antibiotics for Grogu to take. It was overkill, technically, but you didn’t care. It was also mildly illegal for you to take some of these supplies home, but who was going to stop you? Daelar? That coward was off world so he had no say over this clinic, and you had a pretty solid relationship with the Marshal. Enough so that you doubted he’d be arresting you for this.

Quietly, you worked with practiced ease compounding the medications. Without the added stress of a ticking time bomb in feverish child form, you were able to find the action calming. That is until a figure settled next you. Her presence startled you at first, but you recognized the girl you held at gunpoint only hours ago.

“Oh, Aayla, hey.” You greeted in a whisper, to not disturb Din, “I’m sorry about last night. With the blaster and the⏤”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Aayla replied. “You were incredible. This is incredible.” She motioned to the medicine you were half done compounding. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I came here to gain experience before I apply to medical school, and I was so disappointed with what I found.” She said. The girl was practically bouncing in place. “But now I have you! Oh, I am so excited to work with you!”

Your fingers froze and you slowly shook your head. “No. No, no, no, no. I’m not⏤ We’re not⏤”

Aayla tilted her head in confusion. “You’re gonna be the new on site physician, aren't you?”

Maker, in your panic last night had you just told everyone you were a doctor before? You shook your head. You needed to get this done. The sound of Din stirring made you glance over your shoulder toward him. You hummed, “Aayla, can you take out Grogu’s IV? Have you done that before?”

“I have!” She rushed away and you took that as a victory.

Din sat up on the cot at her approach, Grogu still cradled in his arms, and you sighed in relief once more. Grogu still hadn’t woken up, but that didn’t surprise you. You had made both medications last night with a sedative effect. The poor kid needed as much rest as possible. All thoughts were interrupted when Din’s t-shaped visor lifted from Grogu to focus on you. You physically felt his eyes on you and a thrill ran down your spine all the way to your toes. You quickly turned back around and went back to work. You were nearly done with the last one. Would’ve been finished by now if Aayla hadn’t caught you off guard.

As if the universe knew you were trying to stay focused on task and wanted to distract you, an all too familiar form silently approached. Din towered over you, quite the sight in all his beskar, and though his presence hadn’t surprised you the way he curled around you did. Din rested one hand on the counter, his other wrapped around your waist, and he leaned into you so the side of his helmet was pressed against the side of your face. The man might as well have set you on fire with the flamethrower connected to his vambrace. Heat warmed your cheeks and flooded into every nook and cranny of your body.

This was hardly the first time he had broken the barrier to touch you, but this was the first time it wasn’t spurred on by some emotional turmoil. You hadn’t expected him to be so casual. To openly touch you in this way. 

“Hi.” You mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

A low, rumbling chuckle spilled out from the helmet’s modulator and the sound made your breath catch in your throat. Din squeezed your waist. “Hi.” He nodded his head down toward your hands. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, I’m…” Habit told you to lie. You were supposed to keep this a secret. Nobody was supposed to know about your past. Your logic argued that it was a little late for that and telling Din you were ‘making mixed drinks with the medical supplies’ wasn’t going to convince him of anything. “Medicine.” You blurted. Mentally, you cursed your lack of allure and tact. Maker, why did Din make you babble like an idiot? For once, could you just be cool? Give off an air of mystery and intrigue like he was able to? Kriff. “Uh, medicine for Grogu. Just in case.”

“Good.” He replied. “Smart.”

“What can I say? I have my moments sometimes.”

Din hummed out a sound of amusement, but before you could commend yourself for saying something marginally clever and well thought out, you felt his gloved fingers brush just under the hem of your shirt. The leather warm and firm on the bare skin of your abdomen, and your entire brain short circuited at the motion. 

“You almost ready to go home, ner kar’ta?” He whispered.

Voice broken, you nodded dumbly. Din chuckled once more before pulling back and walking back to the cot. Maker. Oh, Maker. You glanced over your shoulder to watch him saunter away. He didn’t do it on purpose, he didn’t seem to know what his gait did to the people around him, but you could watch Din walk for hours. It was such a casual and strong pace⏤ confidence oozing from every step.

For weeks now, you had been fighting an emotional connection to this man. You were terrified of messing up the good thing you had. It couldn’t be argued that the ship of staying distant had sailed. The wall between the two of you, emotionally speaking, was a pile of dust now. The physical thoughts? Those had always been easy to swat away. You forced yourself to not let your mind wander on his hip to shoulder ratio. To not think about the sliver of flesh you’d see at home between the waistband of his sweatpants and the hem of his shirt. To not think about his strong arms and the way they would feel wrapped around you.

You had been so good about it. Up until now, that is.

Now? Dank farrik, you wanted to jump his bones. 

Maybe it was the excess adrenaline from everything that happened last night, or maybe it was you being too weak to hold back those primal thoughts, but regardless of the reason the desire was there in full force. Your eyes traced him from boots to helmet once more. He was standing by the cot watching Aayla work with his hands on his hips and his head faced down in a studious manner. Oof. A man covered head to toe in metal and the woven material of a flight suit should not look this good. The man didn’t have a single patch of skin showing, yet you were foaming at the mouth feral for him.

As if reading your wanton thoughts, Din’s gaze snapped to you. Your eyes widened. Though you couldn’t see where his eyes were trained, you still flushed as if he were raking over your form, and when his head tilted to the side it felt like your heart seized in your chest. Double oof. You whipped your head back around, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, and tried to get back to the task at hand. Focus, focus, focus.

Medicine for Grogu first, eye fucking his father second.

They had slept in the clinic far longer than Din had thought. The quick trip back home was made in early morning light and the city was beginning to come to life. Normally, this would frustrate him, but Cara had left him a note saying that Karga was excusing them of all duties today⏤ as a thanks. Any issues would run through him. In any other scenario, Din would argue over this plan, but today? No, today he was going to send Karga a damned fruit basket as thanks when he got the chance.

There was a very long list of tasks Din had to accomplish. He needed to hunt down Daelar so he could rip the man’s cowardly spine from his body and beat him to death with it for leaving his son and you without medicine. He needed to repair his vambrace so the communicator would work once more. He needed to ensure Grogu was healing properly⏤ though you were handling that better than he ever could it seemed. And a few other dozen items he always had on his to-do list. One of the more important things on his list of goals for the day? You. 

Din knew he had a bad habit of tunnel vision. He knew because people told him this constantly. He tended to make a goal and then barrel through any obstacle or issue with blinders on until he got what he wanted. It was part of the reason why he was so good at bounty hunting, though it was also the reason why he found himself in so many messes over the years. Today, it would come in handy because you were at the end of this tunnel.

“How much longer will he be asleep?” Din asked. Grogu was bundled up in his arms as the two of you entered into the house. 

You set the bag of supplies you had taken from the clinic onto the kitchen counter then shrugged. “If I had to guess…a couple more hours?”

“Good.” Din replied. Without another word, he began the journey to his room. First things first, he needed to get his son settled. The last time Din had seen Grogu sleep so soundly was when they first met and he saved him from the mudhorn.

Carefully, he tucked the boy into his hammock and shuffled through the toys below to find Grogu’s favorite stuffed frog. Din set it in the hammock as well and took a minute to breath out a sigh of relief. Maker, he was thankful Grogu was safe and healing. He was thankful for you, and he wanted to show that to you in any and every way you’d allow him.

Din stepped back and began to peel off layers of his beskar. The gloves and his gauntlets fell away first followed by his shoulder pieces and his torso. He had even shrugged out of the tight upper half of his flight suit leaving him in the plain t-shirt that sat beneath. His hands drifted to undo his belt, but he heard you pass by his room on the way to the bathroom. Din paused in his process and walked out of his room⏤ almost like a man possessed. As he shut the door behind him quietly, as to not rouse Grogu, he heard the sound of the shower kick on. His body was moving before he fully registered the motion, and his knuckles rapped against the wooden door.

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Can I come in?” It was a weighted question, he knew, and judging on the silence that followed it you were aware of this as well. Your eventual reply was a soft affirmative noise, and Din found himself pushing the door open slowly. He’d keep all his movements slow. Din would give you every opportunity to push him away. The relationship between the two of you was a series of lines drawn in the sand, and Din knew he was blowing past every single one right now.

You stood at the bathroom counter, back to the mirror, and the shower off to the side was already running. His helmet’s sensor told him the water beating down was ice cold. 

“I was thinking a, uh, shower,” You cleared your throat, eyes not leaving him, “might be the best thing for me right now.”

Din gave a small nod. Then took another step in your direction, “I can help with that.” Din said every word slowly, took every step slowly, in order to give you every opportunity to stop him. “If you’d like.”

The corner of your lips twitched up, a sight that made him ache, and you shrugged. “The buttons on this shirt were really tricky.”

It was the only invitation he needed to close the remaining space between the two of you. Din cupped your face with his bare hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks, and he tilted your head up just so he could look at you. Maker, you were gorgeous. The light in your eyes, the way you glowed when you smiled, it put the stars to shame. 

“You’re a work of art, ner kar’ta.” He breathed.

“What does that one mean?” You asked softly. “Ner kar’ta.”

Din tilted his head with a chuckle, “If I told you, I’d have to come up with a new nickname to call you.” 

His fingers trailed down your neck and found the buttons that started at your collar. Din continued to move slowly as he undid each button of your shirt, but this time it was for his own sake rather than yours. He wanted to savor every second of touch he had with you. He soaked in the soft gasps you made every time his cold fingers brushed against your warm torso. 

“I like this look on you, by the way.” You whispered. Din hummed in response⏤ too busy admiring your bare skin to be decent at holding a real conversation. You leaned forward enough that he could pull the shirt down off your body leaving you in only a bra. “The t-shirt. With the beskar plated pants and boots⏤ plus that helmet. You’d have bounties quivering.”

Din ran his hands across your belly, over your sides, then up your back. So close now that his chest was pressed against yours. He kept his voice low and quiet. “Am I making you quiver?” The sharp breath you sucked in was a sound he’d have memorized for the rest of his life. Din let his hands explore your upper body determined to memorize that as well. 

Eventually his hands made it back to your chest and he let his fingers brush against the scar on your collarbone. Briefly he felt you stiffen. “Mesh’la.” Din reassured, then followed it up in a language you’d understand. “Beautiful. You are so kriffing beautiful, ner kar’ta.”

Din traced his hands downward, pausing over your breasts, then continued to drag his palms over your abdomen⏤ his thumb dipped against your navel. When his hands reached the waistband of your pants, he undid the button and zipper then knelt down in front of you. Din helped you step out of the first pants’ leg and he held his hand behind your knee allowing his thumb to tenderly caress circles against your calf. Din stared up at you the entire time. The pupils of your eyes were blown wide with desire and your tempting lips were parted. It was a look that Din wouldn’t mind staring up at forever. He’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if it meant you’d continue to look at him in this way.

“Pretty girl.” Din hummed as he worked to get your other leg untangled from the rest of your pants. He focused his gaze back to eye level and took in a shaky breath. Your dark underwear was a shade darker at the center, a damp spot he could just barely see, but it was enough to tell him you were in the same state of being nearly undone by the other. It was a match to the near painful hard on he had pressed against the thickness of his flight suit’s pants. 

It was absolute torture to be so close to what he wanted, but still be separated by so much. Din had never been so tempted to rip the helmet off his head just so he could press open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your damp center. He was an Apostate anyways according to the covert. That title just might be worth it for a taste of you.

“Din.” You breathed his name and he shuddered in response.

Maker, he wanted you to know how much you meant to him. Din wished he could string together paragraph after paragraph about how you made him feel. But, he was bad at talking. Din didn’t have the skills to voice how strong his thoughts were. Action though? Oh, Din was very good at action. And, he planned to reveal how strongly he felt for you with every touch he was allowed. You said Grogu would be asleep for another few hours. Din didn’t think that was near enough time, but it would be a good start to how he planned to worship your body.  

He may not be able to use his mouth, but years of being bound by this barrier made him very, very good with his hands. Din hooked his fingers under the bands of your panties with full intention to rip them off of you, but your hands suddenly landed on his.

Worried, his head snapped up to gauge if you were alright. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay, I’m⏤” You took a slow, shuddering breath. “But if you get started, I’m going to absolutely fall apart, Din.”

“That’s exactly what I want, pretty girl.” Din chuckled. As the other nickname left his lips, Din wished he knew your real name. Calling you Soran, knowing the little he did, felt wrong. Another chuckle escaped him. It wasn’t often he was on the curious end of this conundrum. 

You ran your hands over his forearms, to his elbows, and you tried to pull him up to stand. Din, reluctantly, stood back up so he was towering over you once more. The bright smile that filled your features was enough to make it worth it. You reached out and set your hands on his shoulders. “It’s my turn to explore.” Din tilted his head, in genuine confusion, and you dragged your hands down to his abdomen. The tips of your fingers brushed against his bare skin and his entire body stiffened in response. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Din hesitated, only for a moment, before he reached back to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. A nervous energy settled in his chest as he let the shirt fall to the bathroom floor. Din watched you as your small fingers ran across his abdomen, chest, and arms. Every scar you came across, you spent the time tracing it softly as he had yours. 

“Mesh’la.” You said though the pronunciation was just slightly off. He chuckled and your smile widened. Your hands trailed to his back and he felt you lightly dragging your nails against his skin. Goosebumps formed on his skin. “I’m serious though, Din. I could spend all day staring at you⏤ touching you.”

Din couldn’t help but shake his head. “You don’t have to lie. I think I have more scars than normal skin, at this point.”

“I’m not lying.” You replied. He didn’t think he could be more surprised by your actions, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against a rather gnarly patch of scarred skin on the left side of his chest where a vibroblade had cut through the armor he had before his beskar. Honest to Maker, an actual whimper slipped from him as his eyes fluttered closed. You continued on. Taking the time to press your lips against every scar you could find while mumbling about how beautiful he was between each one.

Din had never been so intimate with a person before. He was no stranger to sex, to carnal desires, but up until now every encounter had been a means to an end. Quick and to the point. Nearly every time, he’d still have on every piece of his armor. The partners he found would be in various stages of undress, but Din never felt comfortable enough to match them in that state. Everything about this moment was starkly different. He felt safe and he treasured every single tender second that passed. He craved it. Din craved you. Another difference. Before now, his sex life had been a series of hit and runs. Never the same person twice. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious choice, but Din was always traveling and nothing tempted him enough to return and repeat. 

You were not those other partners. Maker, he’d never get enough of you. Din knew that without a doubt and he technically hadn’t even fully touched you yet. That was the stranglehold you had on his mind, body, and soul.

When you pulled back, Din reopened his eyes to stare down at you. He cupped your face once more and for what had to be the thousandth time he wished he didn’t have a wall of beskar separating the two of you. Your hands lifted to hold over his then trailed down to his elbows. Without looking away from him, Din felt your hands on his abdomen. Tracing lower, lower, lower. You undid his belt then buried your hands into his pants to pull them down further. He could feel your hands against his thighs, and it was absolutely pathetic how close he came to falling apart just by having you near his cock.

The sudden loud banging of someone beating their fist against the front door of the house drifted down the hall into the bathroom, and it was just as jarring as if Din had stepped into the cold shower himself. Both of you froze, his hands cupping your face and your hands still buried in his pants. A beat of silence made Din hopeful, but it was followed by a now repeated banging that did not stop.

Din let out a groan and let his head fall forward to lightly rest against your forehead. His frustrated words came out in a near snarl. “I’m going to kill whoever is at the door.”

The sound of your quiet laugh loosened the tension in his shoulders but did nothing to the new level of frustration he had. You pulled your hands out of his pants, a loss that devastated Din, and placed them over his again.

“Well, you know what they say about anticipation.” You said.

“No.” Din shook his head. “I don’t. What do they say?”

Your smile turned sheepish as you shrugged. “I, uh, I don’t actually know.” Din’s lips curled into a smile of his own. “I didn’t think you’d call me on that. To be honest, words just sort of fall out of my mouth when I’m with you.” Din chuckled, and you squeezed his hands. “I don’t think my brain works right when my skin is touching yours.”

Din knew lust. He could recognize the hot, burning solar flare it tended to be. It was blinding. Like, a comet rushing by him leaving him spinning in the heated sparks of its tail end. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel that way with you⏤ Maker, knew that wasn’t the case⏤ but with you there was something else. It came on so slow that he didn’t even realize he felt the comforting warmth until it was nestled deep in his chest. The feeling planted roots in his soul and blossomed into something he couldn't live without. It was invigorating. It was life. It was standing in the sun on a warm day and soaking in every ray of warmth. 

“I need to answer the door.” You mumbled. “Before the knocking wakes up Grogu.”

Din nodded with another sigh. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the palm of his hand, then stepped away from him. You leaned over to turn the shower off⏤ the shower neither of you ever made it to⏤ and he bent over to scoop up his shirt. Din held it out to you. A deliberate decision. You raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t hesitate to pull his too large shirt over your head. Din nodded at the sight of you, appeased at seeing you in his clothes.

“I’ll be right there.” Din said as you hurried away. 

When he knew you were a safe distance away, he pulled his helmet off and rubbed his face with his hands. Anticipation. Din had been on the edge of anticipation for much too long. He was sliding straight into sexually frustrated now. At this rate, when he finally did get a taste of you it might just kill him. 

“Mando!” Your voice called out. He had already gotten used to hearing you use his name after one day. Enough so that the moniker disappointed him. Still, Din felt a flash of pride that his trust had been rewarded. He didn’t even need to tell you not to use his real name in front of others. You just knew. “It’s Karga!”

“I’ll be right there.” He called back and grabbed his helmet. Din would have to step back into his room to dress back into his gear before meeting the High Magistrate. One thing was for certain, he would not be sending Karga a kriffing fruit basket anymore.

mando’a translations

Mesh’la: Beautiful /// Cyar’ika: Sweetheart /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

taglist

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy​ @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover​ @teawrites01​ @emily-roberts​ @djarinxore​ @impala1967666​ @shelbyteller @faithrenner​

[cyberpunkhwx]

When they find your p*rn dash

❥Pairing: ateez hyung line x gn(fem?) Reader

❥ Genre: Suggestive

❥Warning: mention of porn, mention of future sexual actions, suggestive, comedy?(nah just me trying to be funny)

❥Word count:

❥Requested? No

Hongjoong:

"Babe! Can I borrow your laptop? I forgot mine at the dorm" Said your boyfriend in the livingroom. You were in the kitchen, making the dinner while Joong was continuing his work from home.

You let out a hum, trusting your boyfriend with your belonging, not minding it at all.

He took it as a green light as he muttered a "Thank you" as he opened your laptop.

As he settled everything down, he found a weird looking tab open. Maybe it was important? He decided to let it be and just open a new tap bit curiosity took better of him.

But the random moaning sound that came put of the tab catching you both off guard, making you come running to your bf.

"Y/N!! IS THAT WHAT YOU WERE WATCHING YESTERDAY AND TOLD ME ITS JUST ANOTHER ROM-COM MOVIE?"

"MAYBE!"

Silence. No one said a word until he took a deep breath and started again.

"You know we could actually give that position a try you kno- KIM HONGJOONG!- JUST AN IDEA OKAY!!

Ddeonghwa:

It didn't take him long to snap at how "messy" your apartment was. Well, to you, it's pretty normal but your bf definitely disagreed.

"Move your feet y/n"

"agh"

"Don't 'agh' me young lady, I'm here doing you a favour"

"And I'm realllllllyyyyyyy thankful to you babe, I love my responsible boyfriend sooo much"

"T-thanks babe- Wait, Y/L/N Y/N you know this ain't my responsibility right?"

"Yeah yeah sorry my bad"

He huffed, not really pleased with your answer but kept on his work.

"Babe, you gotta update your shopping list"

"My phone is there" you said pointing at your desk with your toes.

"Are you that lazy y/n? C'mon get up" He said going toward your phone. Entering your password and going to find your Note app.

Only to have his eyes blessed with the playing video of a video screaming her lungs out, as she's being pounded like no tomorrow

You suddenly jump out of the bed toward him and try to snach the phone out of his hands.

But as the little shit he is, he held it above your head. Using his height to keep you on your toes as the video is still being played.

"What? Were you watching it yourself at some point? Let's check it together, huh?"

He let out another loud laugh as he heard you whining in his chest.

"We gonna do alot with this video, baby"

Yuyu:

He hasn't been the same since he opened your phone and saw your twitter bookmarks.

Like he knew you can find everything on the bird app but y/n, HIS Y/N?

"Here I thought I've been planning to wife up a cutie not knowing how filthy they were"

He thought to himself smirking as he got up from his position on the chair. Making his way to your shared room. Where you were laying cluelessly.

"Hi sweetheart, how are you?" He said basically jumping on you, easily towering on you body with his.

"A little bird told me you liked it when I use advantage of my giant self" He said as he slipped his hands to your face.

"Wha-who-w-why would you ever think like that?" You argued, clearly not ready for him to find out this way.

"Deny all you want love, I won't keep you from the endless pleasure I can give you, now that... I know" He whispered the last part as he grinned beside your ear.

Yeosang:

"I never knew you were into Hard-core Bdsm gets fucked on the wal -" you snached the phone out of his hands before he kept reading the title of the tab you left open before using the bathroom.

"How much of that did you see?!" You said Panicked of your boyfriend seeing the kinky side of you.

You always tried to keep ot vanilla. Slow and gentle kissed. Nothing like what your boyfriends eyes just witnessed.

"Enough" He said smiling to himself.

"Is this why you insisted on having empty walls in almost every room? I could do that if you want to, you I do!" He said flexing his arms as he still gave you his goofy smile.

"Emm- ohhh guess what my mom just called and I gotta- it's fine I wasn't planning on doing anything now- Oh... that's- Cuz I'm gonna devour you whole tonight Babe. Wear the lacy once, those you keep under your socks"

He said now taking his own phone and leaving you to "call your mom".

A/n: lemme know how it was!

Requests: Open

Masterlist

[bangtanhoneys]

Grace & Jin: New Fishing Buddy

Note: Seokjin, Happy Birthday! I hope your birthday in the military is just as special as it would be if you were here. Let's make your 2025 birthday even more special. To readers, I hope you enjoy it.

Grace had it all planned, near enough. 

She had gone out and bought a little box, added some shredded green tissue paper and then filled it with what she needed. It was hard to do everything in secret when you belonged to BTS and Dispatch wanted to follow your every move, nevermind there needed to be a bodyguard with you or one of the boys wanted to follow.

This was something she had to do on her own, without anyone else knowing. 

There was a feeling of being completely unsure of whether this was a good thing. The news she had kept secret for the past week had made her stomach churn every moment of the day and she was slowly starting to run out of excuses, with so many eyes on her from the team, stylists and her boyfriend. 

Yoongi had commented that she had been looking paler than usual and for Yoongi to notice, that meant everyone else was noticing. 

How do you keep a baby secret?

You simply can’t. Not in the industry that demanded 110% from you now with all military service completed and dusted, the boys rested and now they were rearing to go. Let’s not even mention the massive comeback that Big Hit had planned now that BTS was finally back to eight members. 

A baby would throw a complete spanner in the works. 

But they had wanted this even if it was a complete and utter surprise.

There were so many conversations before the military and afterwards about children. They weren’t getting any younger, their careers weren’t slowing down and the demand for BTS was even stronger so when could Kim Seokjin & Chu Grace actually be a couple and have the family they always wanted?

It seemed life had said ‘screw it. You’re going to be pregnant now.’

Grace let out a long breath and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the nausea swell with nerves that had nothing to do with morning sickness. Jin would be due home at any point now after his schedules for the day had been finished with and she knew he had left HYBE because of the message he had sent her. 

The two had finally moved into an apartment of their own, a week after Grace had finished her tour. Jin had been on the hunt since his military discharge to find somewhere just for the two of them to own, that hadn’t been their own separate spaces, with enough bedrooms for future family members and for visitors. An apartment, split over two floors, with enough bathrooms and five bedrooms had appeared on the market at their old dorm location in Hannam on the Hill.  

The apartment was a complete mishmash of the two with Seokjin’s MapleStory characters displayed on a shelf in the hallway, with Grace’s love of British things displayed in the kitchen and living room. The bedrooms had been decorated neutrally but each with its own little theme though Jungkook had taken one room as his own. 

And now one of those spare rooms could be the nursery. 

Min-Ji, the cat the two had adopted, had taken to lounging in his brand-new cat tree where he lorded it up over everyone. But even he had sensed what was coming and what changes were due to come along, hiding himself away in one of the spare bedrooms.

Grace left the box on the dining room table and went to the kitchen to get started on dinner, cooking a traditional British dinner of fish and chips. 

She tried not to freeze when she heard the chime of the lock on the door, the door gently shut, shoes kicked off and then placed on the shoe rack and a coat being hung up. There was the usual sigh of ‘Finally, I’m home’ and the usual greeting of:

“Jagiya, I’m home!”

She hid her grin and carried on making dinner, “Just in the kitchen. Something arrived for you today, I’ve left it on the dining room table.”

“I didn’t order anything,” Seokjin mused as he changed direction by spinning on his left foot and making his way over. 

There was a plain white box on the table with a green ribbon wrapped around it with his name on a little tag. It wasn’t his birthday since it was the middle of summer, it wasn’t Grace’s birthday since that had been and gone and it wasn’t their anniversary either. He hadn’t ordered anything though he had seen a nice painting of Jeju Island online that he knew he had to get for their bedroom. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he pulled open the ribbon and then lifted the lid of the box. 

There was a mini fishing rod, way too small for an adult but just small enough for a child. Underneath it, he pulled out a baby onesie which read ‘NEW FISHING BUDDY - ARRIVES APRIL’ and while he was still trying to process that, he spotted the sonogram picture below with Grace’s name on it, her date of birth and where it had been taken. 

Seokjin was smart.

He graduated from a very hard to get into university and he had earned his degree while being a member of BTS. Not only that, he had completed his military career with top marks and learned traditional Korean alcohol, as well as design levels and games for MapleStory, was the King of Run!BTS and other things. 

 Yet his brain had completely shut down over what he was seeing in the box. 

It could only mean one thing. 

“Grace,” Seokjin started as he carried the onesie and sonogram towards the kitchen. 

He never called her that, often referring to her as Chu or her other nickname of Gigi or now Jagiya. Never did he call her Grace and that’s when she turned, trying to hide the built up emotions of nerves, worry, excitement and the big need to shout the news. 

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Depends. What do you think it means?”

“You’re pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. There was no hesitation around it and it was just a matter of fact that every single thing he had seen up to know that made him question a couple of things had confirmed what he already knew.

His girlfriend of over six years was pregnant with his future child. 

“I’m pregnant,” she confirmed.

There was a pause and for a brief moment of time, Grace thought that this was going to go downhill suddenly. But all of a sudden, Seokjin let out the biggest yelp she had ever heard and the next thing she knew, her face was pressed against his chest while he screamed, “I’m going to be a father!”

Finally, after months of wanting and waiting and wondering, the dream of extending the Kim/Chu household was about to become a reality. 

His fingers smoothed away the tears of relief from her cheeks and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her there until he moved away to hold up his fist. An old tradition of theirs when they both confirmed what they were both feeling. 

“Bangtan baby?” he asked, giving his famous wink. 

Grace laughed and nodded, holding up her own fist and giving his a bump. “Bangtan baby.”

[sister-lucifer]

Presenting (Part 2)

Satan, Asmodeus*, Beelzebub, Belphegor x Familiar!Reader (Separately) 

PART ONE

**PLEASE READ CONTEXT FOR FAMILIAR READER HERE**

Genre: Smut

Summary: When Familiars are in heat, they will occasionally “present” to their mate or potential mates to entice them. This can involve many things: stripping, exposing parts of the body such as the chest or thighs, posing in provocative ways, and much more.

How do the younger brothers react when you present to them? 

Reader is male

Content/Warnings: Catboy reader, sub reader, mentions of heat, sort of shy reader, mentions of scent, mentions of pegging in Asmo’s segment

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors 

*Asmodeus is AFAB and uses he/she pronouns 

Satan 

When Satan heard the new familiar was a cat, his heart swelled. Ever since you showed up, he had doted on you twenty four seven. He even had your heats marked on his calendar, along with lists of everything you would need, and he made sure to carve out time to spend with you during those weeks. 

He had stayed home the entire day; you both knew it would start today, but there was no telling exactly what time, so you were both going about business as normal.

Up until now, that is.

Satan smelled you before he saw you. Your sweet scent was unmistakable, imprinted on his brain. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

You didn’t have to say anything when you walked in, or shut and locked the door behind you, or crawled into bed with Satan. 

He happily opened his arms to you, and you wrapped him in a warmer-than-usual hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, lips brushing over his skin as you purred. Satan stroked your back softly with a tender hand. 

“Need me to tend to you, pretty kitty?” He asked in a low voice. 

“Mhm…” You hummed in response. 

You pulled away from him, instead opting to plant yourself on his lap. It was then he noticed the cropped shirt you were wearing. It showed off your adorable tummy just perfectly, along with your thick happy trail. His eyes traced the fur all the way down until it disappeared into your shorts. 

Your tail thumped against the mattress as your hand slid under your shirt. It slowly lifted it above your chest while the other moved to the waistband of your shorts. Satan watched intently, taking in every inch of skin. 

You held your shirt above your chest, allowing Satan to run a hand over the ring of fur around your neck. Your shorts, which he could now see had nothing underneath, were pushed down just enough to tease him. Even the slightest bit more force would release your hard on from its confines. 

You let out a shy meow, ears pressed flat against your head. 

Satan grinned down at you, bringing a hand up to pat your head. 

“Presenting to me, hm? There’s no need to entice me, although I am incredibly flattered, I’ll always be your mate, and I’ll always take care of you.” 

Asmodeus 

One of the most important things in Asmodeus’ routine was his daily shopping outings. Of course, that’s where he was the day you started your heat: out. 

He had originally planned to stay home, really he had, but this was a last minute decision. It was just supposed to be a quick run, really! But she got so distracted by each new shop…

Suddenly she felt her DDD vibrate in her pocket, and when she saw it was a text from you, she nearly fainted. 

My Familar💕

Asmo, please come home. I need you. 

He had never dropped a shopping outing faster. 

The heels of his shoes clicked loudly against the dorm tile floors as he rushed down the hallway. Fortunately she had long since become an expert at running in stilettos. 

“Familiar? Sweet baby, where are you?” She called, but she got no response. You weren’t in the common room, you weren’t in your room, you weren’t in any of the rooms he passed…

That only left one possibility. 

He swung open the door to his room with a call of your name, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

You were on all fours in the middle of his bed, facing away from him. Your back end was up in the air, tail swaying above you. You were wearing the itty bittiest little pair of shorts that squeezed around your ass perfectly. 

She couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she gawked. 

“Asmo…need you…” You pleaded softly as you turned to look back at him. 

How could he ever refuse those teary, desperate eyes? Or that perfect, pliant body? Or that wonderful, wonderful smell that seemed to surround and overtake everything? 

“Oh, my sweet…” She cooed as she walked over, running a hand over your bare back. “Presenting to me so shamelessly…you must be desperate…” 

He moved towards his dresser, running his fingers down the drawers before pulling the bottom one open.

“I’m so, so sorry for neglecting you, baby. Let me make it up to you with my favorite strap-on.” 

Beelzebub 

Beelzebub was always one to pick up on more than he showed, and this was no exception. He knew your heat would start today; not only had he been planning for it the past few days, but he had been attached at your hip since this morning, always having an excuse to watch over you. Not that you minded, of course. 

Fortunately, it seemed his little plan would pay off. 

You were laying in bed together watching some movie that you had both seen a thousand times, although Beel was more focused on stuffing his face with popcorn. He groaned when he reached into the bucket and felt nothing. 

“Aw, I finished the movie snacks already…You don’t happen to have anything, do you?” 

You shook your head in response. Beel sighed, but really he wasn’t that upset. He snuggled in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

He took note of how restless you suddenly became when he pulled you in close, and they way your tail thumped quickly against the bed. 

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, but he got no reply. 

You shifted again, this time moving to sit in front of him. That’s when your wonderful scent hit him like a truck. On instinct he took a deep breath in, nearly intoxicated by the smell. 

“Oh…D-Did you—“ 

You shushed him before he could finish. 

You placed yourself between his legs, holding onto his hips as you lowered your upper body. 

He knew immediately what you were trying to do. 

Your head ducked down as you nuzzled against his bulge with a soft mew. Your shirt slid down revealing your bare back as you arched it, as well as the base of your tail. You knew how to make yourself look irresistible to your mate.

Your tongue lolled out to give a small kitten lick over Beel’s bulge through his pants. Goodness, you looked more delicious right now than any meal Beelzebub had ever laid eyes on…

“O-Oh gosh, I…I knew this would happen, but damn...I didn’t think you’d ever present to me…guess you really need me to take care of you, huh? Go on, then. Show me what you need.” 

Belphegor 

Belphie was rarely ever roused from sleep by anything short of the entire dorm collapsing, and yet every time you were near it always woke him. This time was not an exception, although he picked up on your scent first before he was completely awake. He sat up as he spotted you in the doorway. 

“Hey, familiar…you need something?” Belphegor asked, voice slow and lazy. He yawned and stretched, patting the bed next to you and inviting you to sit down. 

You did sit down, although the bed was not your seat of choice. 

Instead you climbed into Belphie’s lap, putting your hands on his chest and pushing him to lay back. He complied, although his expression let on that his interest was most certainly piqued by your behavior. 

“Something wrong, familiar?” 

It was a disingenuous question; he knew what was wrong, but he wanted to see what you had planned. He had heard about the possibility of familiar’s ‘presenting’ to mates, and he was eager to see how far you would go. 

You sat right on his hips, giving a few subtle grinds. His hands came up to rest on your waist, fingers drumming against your soft skin. 

One of your hands moved to your chest, running down it slowly. Then to your stomach, then past your navel…

Then it dipped under the waistband of your shorts. 

It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough to get the message across. 

“Belphie…” You mewled, making sure he could see every movement you made beneath the fabric. 

You could feel his cock harden underneath you, nearly making you flinch. He stared at you for a long few moments, mouth hanging open wordlessly before curling into a grin. 

“My, my…that needy, hm?” He teased, and you nodded in response. 

“I see…you’re quite cute when you’re like this, you know…how about you keep going? Present to me like you mean it. Show me what my pretty little familiar has to offer.” 

if demand is high enough i will make a part 3 with the dateables

[tomtenadia]

Detours to you - Chapter 1

It's the weekend and after the brief prologue here I am with chapter 1. I have 12 down so far and feel more confident about this one. After two failed attempts, it seems that picking the remains of both it helped. It's not going to be a super long fic. I aim at 20ish chapters. There will be some angst but nothing too extreme. I have kept Puck, my angst monster at bay. Maya will be the official provider of fluff and cuteness,

Happy reading

Aelin was enjoying her day off with her daughter.. Maya had started school back in August and when she was at work it was her parents picking her up and keeping her until she could retrieve her. On that Saturday though, Lysandra and Elide, her business partners at the bookshop had pushed her to go and spend a day with her daughter.

It had been five years since they opened the shop. It had been hard work and long days and a lot of bureaucratic hoops to jump in. But they had made it. 

But as her dream of owning a bookstore became reality, the other half of her life fell apart. 

Rowan. She hadn’t thought about him in a while and wondered if he was fine. 

Rowan. The man she had gone as far as to admit he was the love of her life. Her soulmate. They had been happy, but life had other plans. All their dreams and hopes got swept away in a sea of pain and hurt.

She had let him go. Even knowing she was pregnant with his daughter she let him go and be with his family. His father’s death had destroyed him and the man at her side had transformed in an emotionless shell. So she had begged him to go. Neither of them wanted to do long distance so when he came back for his last visit, a mere month after, she called it quits. It had been the hardest thing she ever did in her life but it was for the best, and now she also had a new life to think about. 

Her daughter.

Their daughter.

“Mama, the piano is so pretty.”

Maya’s voice brought her back to reality “Yes, so much.”

“Can we have one?”

“Not yet, baby.”

“Okay.”

She stared at the piano and her fingers ached. When was the last time she played? Her parents still had her piano in their house.

It had been a spring evening of five years ago. She and Rowan had gone to her parents and he had badgered until she caved and played. He loved to listen her play and every time they were at her parents he would beg her.

That night. That was the last time she played. Because no long after life went to shit.

“Wanna go to Emrys for hot chocolate?”

The girl’s pine green eyes lit up in joy “yes, a big one.”

Emrys was their favourite cafe ran by Emrys and his husband Malakai. The man doted on her and Maya and they were regulars.

Aelin loved the atmosphere of the place. It always felt cozy. Also, Emrys made the most luxurious hot chocolate in old Orynth. It was a cavities paradise but she did not care

They walked the familiar path until they reached the shop with its colourful awnings and walked in.

“Hi Emys!” Squealed Maya who was still trying to learn to pronounce the man’s name.

“Hello munchkin, did you have fun with your mum?” The man came out from behind the counter, kneeled in front of her and mussed her hair.

“We went to the science museum. They have morning for kids and Maya loves them.”

“I know all about the stars and I can see the Lord of the North.”

“Aren’t you a bright little thing?” Maya giggled and they took a seat at their favourite table and Emrys, not long after brought them their drinks. They had both hot chocolates, but Maya was not heavy on the sugar. Her daughter was five and she had to look after her. Aelin was a lost cause in terms of sugary stuff, but her daughter was far too young.

“Do you want to go to the ice rink after?”

“Yes, mama.”

Aelin loved spending her days off enjoying with Maya. Her girl was growing fast and every moment was precious.

“Mama, can I play hockey?”

Hockey in Terrasen was a religion and the national sport. The local team, the Stags had been the reigning champions for the last three season and they were leading the current one too. Her father had introduced her to the game since an early age. They went to games together and it slowly became their ritual. Aelin became a fan and she used to go to all home games. Now she had started taking Maya too when the girl became interested after she watched it on tv. Aelin admitted that watching burly men whacking each other on ice had its charm. 

“Do you want to play hockey?”

“Yes mama, I love it.”

“Ok,”she added. She’d have to look for some junior teams around the city. Sport would be good for Maya. “I will look if I can find a team for young kids.”

“I want to play with the Stags.”

Aelin laughed and mussed her hair with tenderness “One day when you go pro in the THL, my love.”

Maya gave her a huge grin and took a bite of her cinnamon roll.

*

Rowan drove home in a haze. He honestly could not remember the drive home. His body just acted on pure muscle memory.

His mind kept going towards the little girl he saw at Aelin’s hand.

He stepped into the house and dumped the bag onto the floor and felt sick. Slowly he walked to the kitchen for some water. He stared at his kitchen slowly, but his mind was stuck on an image.

Was that really his daughter? Had Aelin kept such a huge secret from him for all these years? The air got sucked from his lungs and the sickness came back. 

Rowan slumped on the sofa and closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose.

He then grabbed his phone and called Lorcan.

“Hi man.”

“Lor…”

“Damn you sound like shit. First day jitters?”

He was meant to start tomorrow as Chief. 

“Can I come to your place?”

Silence “Sure.” Another pause “Ro, are you okay?”

“Please?”

“Sure, I am still at my old place.”

Rowan thanked him and went to the door, wore back his shoes and jumped in the car.

He arrived at Lorcan’s flat a good half an hour later. He had to cross the whole city and the traffic was getting worse as they got closer to rush hour.

At the flat he climbed the block and reached Lorcan’s floor.

Lorcan let him in with a worried expression “Come it will be just us. Elide is still at work.”

He and Elide had married a few months before he left for Wendlyn. He was happy for him. Lorcan had a shitty childhood that messed him up. But Elide had managed to get past that grumpy disposition of his and won his heart. He had been very thankful to the petite woman. 

“Take a seat. Want a beer?”

Rowan shook his head. He only wanted answers. 

Lorcan sat on the sofa but Rowan stood and paced.

“Hey, you look like a wreck.”

“I was in town, today.” His breath came out ragged “I saw Aelin.”

“Shit.”

Rowan was silent and kept pacing, his heart racing as he prepared to ask the question that terrified him. “Lor, she was with a kid. A little girl.”

He turned and stared at his friend and his breath caught. Lorcan gave him an expression he knew well. He knew something and Lorcan was the worst at keeping secrets. 

“Is she my daughter?” The question left his lips and the terror spread through him.

Lorcan stood “Rowan…” he paused and then all the worry drained from his face and an angrier expression took over “Yes. She is. Her name is Maya and she is five, she is your daughter.”

Rowan stood frozen in place. His body shook with anger. His pacing resumed and his hands were in his hair in a nervous gesture.

“How?” His voice a deep growl “Lorcan, why I was never told. I am the father.”

Lorcan sighed. Elide was probably going to kill him. When Aelin had announced the pregnancy to her group of friends Lorcan had threatened to call Rowan. He and Aelin had a huge fight and from that day she quickly became his least favourite person. He tolerated her only because his wife was a good friend but he would keep his distance. He would have to grovel to his wife but his friend was distressed and he was done lying.

“I wanted to tell you but she made us all promise.”

Rowan’s face went dark with anger and the lines of his face got harsh.

“So, everyone knows.”

Lorcan nodded.

Rowan slumped on the sofa burying his face in his hands “I have a daughter.”

Lorcan was silent and let his friend mull over the situation.

“What do I do?” He burst out standing up again and resuming his pacing “I got rights I assume? I am her biological father.”

“I can check with Vaughan, he is the lawyer, I am just a firefighter.”

Rowan then stopped “When was she born?”

“January 10th.”

Rowan did a bit of math and turned out that while he was travelling back and forth from Wendlyn, Aelin was likely already pregnant and probably knew. Again that sense of suffocation and panic.

“You need to talk to Aelin.” Lorcan looked and he saw fear in his face. They were both firefighters, had a lot of hairy calls and many brushes with death, but that was the first time he saw deep fear in his friend’s features.

“I know.” He admitted quietly.

In that instant the front door opened and Elide’s cheery voice reached them. 

Rowan grabbed his coat “I have to go.”

Elide entered the living room and stopped at seeing a face she hadn’t seen in five years “Rowan?”

“I am out.” He ignored the woman and turned to his friend “Thank you, Lor.”

He quickly left the room and Elide turned to her husband “Is Rowan back?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t seem surprised.” Elide stopped in front of her towering husband and glared at him “How long have you known?”

“A month,” he admitted quietly “He got a job as chief and he told me before the big announcement was made.”

Elide groaned “So is he back, back?”

“Yes, the transfer is permanent.”

Elide started pacing “Lor, you haven’t told him… about you know what.”

And when her husband stood silent Elide feared the worst “Lorcan?”

“Of course I told him,” he burst in anger. He and Elide had totally opposite opinions on the matter and both Elide and Lysandra had taken Aelin’s side. “Damn Elide, he is the father and he needs to know.” A deep growl “And he saw Aelin with Maya. He asked me and I told him. I am done keeping secrets.”

“He saw her?” Horror etched on his wife’s face “Lor, you should not have told him. You know how Aelin feels about it.”

“Sure. Keep siding with a woman who denied the father the right to know his daughter. Rowan has the right to meet Maya.”

“That was not your call to make.” She shouted back in anger “Lorcan I am so mad at you.”

“Elide, I love you but you are so wrong on this.”

“Have you thought about the repercussion?”

“Elide, he saw her and Maya is basically a clone of Rowan’s.” And the he walked out of the room, leaving his wife alone.

Elide walked angrily to the kitchen and started preparing dinner.

Lorcan stepped at her side, incapable at being mad at his wife for too long “El, I had to. You have not seen the state he was in when he came to me. Think about it, would you ever do that to me?”

Elide placed the pan down and looked up at her husband “No, Lor.”

“Exactly, so why do you defend her so much?”

“She is my best friend.”

“I know baby, and Rowan is mine and I cannot see him in that state.”

His strong arm wound around her waist and pull her closer “They will need us.”

“I know,” a soft whisper against her husband’s chest “I know.”

*

Rowan drove home and parked the car in the driveway but instead of going back inside he went to the back of the house and lay down in the garden.

The stars were out on that clear night, the Lord of the North bright up. He stared at the constellations. His father had taught him their names when he was a kid.

He wondered if his daughter, Maya, the name was the cutest thing ever, he wondered if she would enjoy staring at the stars. He would love to teach her.

He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the battle ahead of him.

He had a daughter and he was going to fight for her.

taglist

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[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- Part 1

Masterlist

Lola's POV

Do you ever think why me? That's exactly what I'm thinking right now. I don't know what I did to deserve this I think I'm a good person I try to be nice to everyone I meet but now I'm starting to wonder why I even bothered. 

 My day started off exactly the same as it always does my alarm goes off at 7 and I get myself ready to go on a run. I'm usually gone for about an hour and half before I come back and shower and eat breakfast. Then I get on with some uni work for most of the day as I do my school work remotely to help fit it into my schedule. The like always training starts at 5 so I make sure to arrive at 4 as I like to get warmed up properly and work on some of my skills on my own. 

As its competition season I have been spending a lot more of my time in the gym practicing my routines time and time again until they are perfect. My coaches are also trying to push my level so I also tirelessly work on new skills in hopes that they can be included in my routine at the next competition so my difficulty is increased. It’s hard work but I love it. Gymnastics has always been part of my life, I started when I was two in a class for babies but apparently I was always better than the rest so my parents were told to put me into a more advanced class. They did exactly that and ever since I've always been the youngest one in each class I was put in and then when I made a team for the first time I was still the youngest. I was called up to the youth Spanish team as soon as I was old enough and now I'm working towards my first olympics. 

Today happened to be my last training session before my next competition which happens to be a pretty major one. Everything was going exactly to plan and like it always does I had managed to get a new skill on the bars and we worked it into my routine so now I have a bit more of an edge on my competition. After bars it was time for vault as that is my weakest rotation and my coaches want me to work on it before the Olympics as you can't have a weakness if you want to be competitive at the Olympics. 

I did my usual vault a few times before trying a new variation with more twists. My a first attempt was a fail as I chickened out and didn't even do a proper vault. My second attempt was better but not great. My third attempt it went all wrong and I under rotated and came landing down really hard on one leg which twisted my knee awkwardly. I've had bad landings before but when I realised that I was in complete agony and my knee just felt off I knew it wasn't good. My coaches also knew straight away that something wasn't right as I alway get up right after a fall but instead I just laid there with an arm over my eyes to try and stop myself crying. 

Everything after that happened so quickly I was taken by ambulance to the hospital where they ran so many tests. CTs, MRIs, ultrasounds you name it I'm sure they did it. That was the worst part as each time a new test was done I saw the doctors looking more and more concerned and no one would tell me anything no matter how much I begged. There's nothing worse than being cold, in pain and scared as you don't have a clue what's going on. Eventually someone came to tell me what was wrong and weirdly I kind of wish they hadn't as it wasn't what I wanted to hear at all.

"I'm afraid that you have a complete tear in your acl and a further injury in your meniscus which we can't know the extent of until we perform surgery" the doctor explained 

"Wait that's bad isn't it how long will I be out for?" I asked 

"I’m afraid you are looking at up to 9 months out" the doctor said 

"No no I'm supposed to be going to the Olympics I can't be out for that long" I cried 

"I'm afraid you will miss the olympics this injury has a long recovery time your surgery will be next Tuesday the 28th we will see you then" the doctor said before getting my discharge papers sorted and leaving 

What did I do to deserve this. 

Gavi's POV

The pain was instant. Straight away I knew something was wrong especially when I couldn't walk properly without being in complete agony. I didn't want to believe it so I tried to keep going but I just couldn't there was something seriously wrong. I'm not sure whether it was the pain or the possibility that I might not play again for a long time but I couldn't stop tears flowing down my face. The team and the coaches did their best to comfort me but it was no use it just felt like my world was crashing and burning around me. 

Of course they sent me straight off to the hospital for tests as the physios at the stadium knew my injury was beyond their capabilities which didn't fill me with any hope whatsoever. No one wanted to talk to me as we traveled to the hospital so it was completely silent as I was thinking about how long I'll be away from football and how awful that will be. Even once we got to the hospital the doctors were just doing tests and not saying anything. Everyone was treating me like a child who wouldn't understand anything they said when really I'm not stupid they could just tell me what they are doing and what they think is wrong and I'd understand just fine. 

"It looks like you have torn your acl we can't tell the full extent of the injury at the moment so you will have it have further tests back in Barcelona" the doctor explained 

"It can't be it can't be I have to play what about the euros and the champions league" I sobbed 

"I'm afraid you are going to have to miss those" the doctor said 

~~~~~~~~~~

Since getting back home I haven't slept at all as my knee is still in a lot of pain and I can't stop thinking about how I won't play again this season. My agent came to drive me to my second set of tests and unlike yesterday when I just wanted someone to tell me what was up and that it would all be fine I didn't want to talk to anyone. They ran all of the same tests on me again presumably hoping to find a different outcome but let's be real it's never going to get better is it. Unlike yesterday everyone was fussing over me and making sure I was feeling ok which was just quite overwhelming when I wanted to just be left alone with my thoughts. 

Yet again all of the results were discussed in the next room over without me but I could still see what was going on. Everyone in the room didn't look hopeful and there was a few people on the phone and writing things down which didn't seem like a good thing. At this point I've come to accept that I'm not going to be playing for a long time so I just want to get on with my recovery as I need something to do all of this sitting around and waiting is driving me crazy. 

"So Gavi we are sorry to say that along with your acl tear you also have an associated injury to the meniscus which extends the recovery time so you are likely to be out for 7-9 months and you will need surgery which we have scheduled for next week on the 28th" the doctor told me 

No one else had anything to say to me and I just wanted to go home so my agent drove me home then left me so I could think about why this had to happen to me. 

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Finally, a Cassandra POV. Sorry that it's a tiny bit shorter but I have had one of most emotionally traumatising weeks of my life. Don't worry, next chapter I'm back on my shit with smut and all.

Warnings: 18+, drugs, alcohol, sex work, references to past abuse, domestic violence

Hot afternoons can feel like an impending scream. It's the mundanity about them that has always killed Cassandra. All the filth and despair of wide, yawning night with its neon lights and hookers on pavements and aching solitude is manageable; at least she can focus her misery on something concrete. But these baked afternoons, when the hours bleed into one amalgam of humming fans and beading sweat, plunge her into a white hot light of clarity at just how fucking sad she is. She's indulging herself too. Has been for the past three fucking hours, doing nothing but picking at her nail beds and staring at a stack of Crash's books against the wall and studying them. He dog-ears his pages, she already knows that, and from here she can see that he cracks the spines too, not surprising. Cassandra quickly pushes down the bubbling sentimentality she feels at the closeness of Crash in those simple acts. Harder still when thinking about those ice blues eyes, the absent minded twisting of a wedding band that's no longer there but the memory of an ex-wife that Cassandra knows nothing about but her name, that oily scent of tobacco on his fingers when he pushes them past her lips. The trailer door opens and he comes in: Crash holding a pharmacy bag,

'You're up,' he states, not daring to make eye contact after what transpired last night. Cassandra thinks it's the first sheepishness she's ever seen cross the stoic lines of his face. She doesn't reply.

'I got you some aspirin,' he continues, setting the bag next to the bed, regarding her for a moment longer which she returns with a glacial look.

'I don't have to talk to you,' Cassandra deadpans, not even bothering to sit up.

'I know,' Rust returns, with an equal frostiness that sends Cassandra into indignant fury.

'How dare you take that mild-ass tone with me,' she spits, now shifting to sit up, 'I got fucking drugged and fucked and then made a complete goddamn fool of myself spewing my guts on the side of the road like some fucking teenager.'

'You are a teenager.'

'I'm twenty fucking years old.'

'Oh you think that a couple months, some cussing and hard-ass attitude means you ain't a teenager. You've still got your goddamn baby hairs, Cassandra.'

He's right and it makes her sick. All the things that she's done to shed that oppressive sheath of girlhood to become a woman. Woman: the word always seemed glossy and unattainable to Cassandra. Fuck if she didn't practice at whatever she thought it entailed: learning how to properly inhale, switching from tights to stay-ups, conditioning herself to like beer by forcing herself to order Blue Ribbons when she went out. It would also mean a whole new type of navigation in her relationships with men; the idea of sex now lingering behind every exchange. Sex. It's what has practically defined her life since she went through puberty. Who to do it with, who not to, how to use it, how to make that biker think you want him without ending with your head bashed against the stage when he realises you don't. Cassandra has learnt to keep her desire and attraction to a minimum. Like with dope dealers, the dumbest shit you can do is get addicted to what you sell. Then Crash came along and fucked up her whole plan. In and out of stripping, pay for rent and save up for student debt, get away from dad and stay alive and sane. But no, not since that night that he came in that year ago, hair starting to turn from that golden to the caramel brown that it is now and cut surprisingly short for a biker. He'd sat with Ginger and a few other of the Iron Crusaders, nursing a Lone Star with a look. far more terrifying than the feral cruelty behind his companions' eyes: ice cold impassivity. A man with nothing to lose has a degree of violence to him allowed by his complete detachment to anything and anyone. Cassandra knew this and yet still locked eyes with him every time she saw him watching her on stage. Never a lap dance, though. She'd tried once and his disgust had made her feel smaller than any of the copious insults dolled out by her father,

'No.' Crash had said firmly, pushing her off with a surprising gentleness.

'It's fine, y'know. It's my job,' Cassandra had tried to reassure him, sitting next to him. He'd turned to look at her and had asked,

'How old are you?'

That had made her arch her eyebrow,

'19. Why? You like 'em older?'

To a less observant person, Rust's jaw muscle twitching would've gone unnoticed,

'Yeah, I do,' he'd said, shoving a twenty dollar bill in her panties' waistband, Cassandra noticing how he'd chosen to place it on her hipbone, 'Clear off, baby.'

'Want me to send over Rose? Red-head, real pretty.'

As Cassandra had said this, a burly Iron Crusader had called her name from across the club, making her turn,

'Yeah, baby?'

'Come bring that pretty, lil' ass over to daddy's lap,' the man had slurred, making Cassandra wince and start to head in his direction. That was until Rust had grabbed her wrist, halting her,

'Easy, Thunder,' he had called over to his fellow Crusader, 'I haven't decided whether to take this one for a spin, yet. She any good?'

'The best, Crash,' Thunder had cackled back, raising his beer in salute to him. With that, Crash had pulled her down into the booth next to him, lighting and a cigarette with complete disregard towards a confused Cassandra perched next to him. When she'd tried to straddle him again, he'd pushed her off,

'Listen, I have a quota to make so do you want a fucking lap dance or not?' She had huffed with a slight agitation in her voice that she hadn't yet learned how to conceal. In those days, she was hungry for it: money, sex, attention, security. Too hungry to learn how to manage it when it spilled over and tinged her tone in desperation.

'What's your quota?' Rust had asked through an exhale of smoke, seemingly uninterested.

'Around 50 dollars, at least.'

He'd arched his eyebrow at her,

'You tryin' to do one over me?'

'I'm desperate, not stupid. If I was trying to scam someone, I'd have picked some liquored up truck driver who hasn't gotten some since Missouri,' Cassandra had stated dryly, making Rust's lip quirk up momentarily.

'50 dollars, at least, by the end of your shift, huh?' he'd drawled, cigarette pinched between his fingers.

'Yeah.'

'What time's your shift end?'

'About another hour.'

'How much money are you on?'

'Straight floor work? About 40.'

Rust had reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tattered, leather wallet before putting down 5 ten dollar bills,

'50 but you stick with me until you're done.'

Cassandra had eyed the bills with suspicion and Rust dryly stated,

'Don't be an idiot, Cassandra. Take the fuckin' money and just sit your ass down.'

'You know my name?'

He had jerked his head towards a huddle of Iron Crusaders in another booth,

'You're popular.'

'Oh.' she'd nodded, slightly deflated by the implications. Rust had picked up on the tinge of shame in her eyes,

'Ain't no shame in it, baby.'

'You don't have to be nice about it.'

'I ain't nice.'

Cassandra had regarded him for a moment longer, thrown off by his apparent self-discipline,

'So, you're stuck with me for an hour. What do you wanna do?' she'd asked, tucking her knees onto the booth. Rust had barely spared her a sidelong glance,

'What're you drinking?'

'Jack and coke.'

He'd scoffed at that,

'You're nineteen.'

'And you're a biker running meth so who's breaking the law more, here?'

That had gotten a proper look from Rust, almost turning his head in her direction before handing his glass,

'How's straight whiskey?'

Cassandra had taken the glass from him and taken a straight gulp while being watched by an impassive Rust,

'What's your name, baby?' she asked in a saccharine tone, a slight tilt to her head.

'Drop the act.'

'I don't have a fucking act. This is how I talk.'

Rust had hummed at that,

'Crash.'

'Crash, huh?'

'Yeah. Crash,' Rust had replied, fixing her with a cold stare. Cassandra had nodded, slightly intimated,

'Ok, Crash.'

A schoolgirl crush had morphed into a worrying codependency that had left her strewn on his mattress, in a semi-catatonic state. Worst part is: Cassandra cannot bring herself to hate him. The sickest part of her is even hoping that he kind of finds her attractive like this: at her rawest, most ugly state. She doesn't know how much longer she can keep the jig up; this near constant state of self surveillance is weighing on her heavily and this lacquer of practiced indifference is eroding. Fast. Even now, as Crash places a glass of water, a carton of Marlboro Golds and a bag of those plasticky powdered donuts by the mattress, she can feel her resolve faltering; trying to ignore the small disappointment that he cares so little to concede her her cigarettes. The grit in her wants to right-hook him hard and run away from this place, but she can't and she won't. She doesn't have anywhere left to run and the humiliation of having to ask to crash with one of her fancy college friends gnaws at her. She notices him staring at her, crouched by the mattress. Burying her head in the pillow, she mumbles,

'Stop it. Please stop it cause, I swear to god, that I'll cry if you don't.'

'Cry, then,' Rust mutters, 'Ain't no shame in it.'

'Yes, there is. A lot. Crash, I'm-I'm a whore,' Cassandra chokes out in a sob.

'Hey-Hey, you never fuckin' say that ever again. You hear?' Rust says, voice raising slightly as he clasps her jaw with his hand, 'What happened last night was me, all me. You were high out of your fuckin' mind and, even if you weren't, you couldn't had said no if you wanted to.'

'But I liked it.'

Rust ignores the heat that pools in his gut at those words,

'That don't make no fuckin' difference.'

Cassandra brings her hands to her face, trying to conceal her tear streaked cheeks. A futile endeavour, given the heaves of her sobs,

'It ain't even that. I've been a stripper since I was eighteen. Eighteen, Crash. What the actual fuck is wrong with me?!'

'You were a desperate, little girl with a daddy who beat her and no other choice in this cesspit of a fuckin' world other than to strip for men like me.'

'Not for men like yo-'

'Yes, Cassandra. For men like me. Stop making fuckin' excuses, you're smarter than that,' Rust borderline snarls, her chin still grasped in his hand as he shakes it slightly, emphasising his words.

Cassandra stares at him for a moment before she gives Rust the type of embrace that she hasn't given since she ran up to the police officer who pulled up, just as her dad burst out of the house with the jagged end of a bottle of malt liquor in hand. She buries her nose between the seam of his leather jacket and his faded t-shirt, inhaling deeply: sweat, Camels, beer, faint scent of deodorant. She moves her head up to thank him in the only way she knows how to and starts to kiss his neck. Rust gently grasps her shoulders to pull her away,

'Not now, baby. Tomorrow but not today.'

'I can-'

'You ain't in the right state of mind. I can see it. You ain't my Cass, right now. You're that scared little girl tryin' to reconcile the fact that her daddy has hit her for the first time and that it ain't gonna be the last.'

Cassandra flinches at that,

'Why the fuck would you bring that up?'

'To remind you that you should be scared.'

'Of you?'

'Of any man.'

Cassandra eyes him narrowly as he stands up,

'You heading out?'

'I'll be back, tonight.'

'Can you hand me a book?'

'Which one?'

'Something relatively chill.'

Rust goes to his stack against the wall, runs his hand down and stops at a book before lifting up the ones above it and slotting it out. He hands it to her,

'First bit of philosophy I ever read. I think most of what he preaches is placid bullshit but it ain't too intense a read.'

Cassandra takes The Stranger from Rust's hand and briefly flicks through the pages before landing at the first one. She squints to read some pen scrawl,

Houston, 1987,

For all those sleepless nights and to kickstart those philosophy courses that you've been mentioning,

From Claire to Rust

Cassandra's head snaps up, brow furrowing. She recognises one name, not the other. Her voice is gelid as she ask,

'Who the hell is Rust?'

[pkmatrix]

New Fan Editing Project: Godzilla (1998)

Yep, I’m at it again with fan editing!

I recently completed my third fan edit, an edit of The Relic (1997) (if you’re interested in checking it out, just send me a message), and started thinking about what I could work on next.  I considered returning back to my Godzilla vs. Space Godzilla fan edit, but that got me thinking instead about Godzilla (1998).

G’98 is a movie with issues.

I’ve had a bit of a roller-coaster relationship with G’98.  I saw the movie in theaters when I was 12, but unlike most I’d actually already seen EVERY Godzilla movie (including the then-recent and not yet released in America Heisei movies, which my parents had bought me imported fansubbed bootlegs of) and walked of the theater having thoroughly enjoyed it.  It wasn’t until I read the next issue of G-Fan and saw that every other Godzilla fan in the world had hated it that I suddenly switched gears (so fast my parents were confused) and decided I hated it too.  It wasn’t until five years later that I revisited it and my opinion softened, deciding I didn’t hate it after all but just didn’t care much for it.  The last time I revisited it - now almost a decade ago - I was struck by how boring a movie it is, and that that’s its greatest sin.  Not Godzilla’s radical redesign, not Godzilla’s personality - frankly, nothing to do with Godzilla himself - but the story of the movie is just DULL.

Why?

Lots has been written about how much people dislike Maria Pitillo’s character and performance, but that’s just a symptom of the real issue:  the movie WANTS to be a Romantic Comedy.  From the start of the film until about 30 to 35 minutes in, the movie is deceptively...fine.  More than one person has told me (and it’s happened to me too) that upon revisiting the first Act is actually quite decent and lulls you into thinking maybe you’ve been too hard on it.  Then the second Act starts and the film decides it’s going to be a bad Romantic Comedy from now on, often forgetting about Godzilla for LOOONG stretches.  Which maybe could be tolerable if Matthew Broderick and Maria Pitillo had chemistry, but they really don’t.  What’s worse, neither character really DOES anything - all of the actual decisions in the movie and actual agency rest with the two main supporting characters played by Hank Azaria and Jean Reno.  I’ve felt ever since that the movie would’ve been significantly stronger and more watchable had those two been the leads, and the Broderick/Pitillo story reduced to a subplot.

Part of why I hadn’t attempted this before was because, well, I didn’t think there was enough to work with.  The movie’s only an 1h 50m, I kept telling myself, and if I made all the alterations I had in mind I’d be left with, what?  An hour?  There just wasn’t enough there.  Except, I’M A MORON.  It was while thinking about it again earlier this week that I actually stopped to check what the runtime is, and my jaw dropped:

Godzilla (1998) is 2h 18m long!!

That’s WAAAY too long, and means there’s over 40 MINUTES I could theoretically cut and still be an acceptable feature length (around 1h 30m)!

So that’s what I’m doing.

BROAD STROKES PLAN

Cut back on scenes with Matthew Broderick, Maria Pitillo, and their storylines to reduce them to supporting characters.

Rearrange scenes to improve pacing and create a greater focus on Godzilla, Hank Azaria, and Jean Reno.

If possible, radically reorganize the second half of the film to eliminate the Baby Godzillas storyline which always felt tacked on, derivative of Jurassic Park, and there to pad out the film.

Alter the ending to make Godzilla’s death more ambiguous, or maybe even change it so he lives (had the idea of ending with his eyes reopening, then cutting to black with the sounds of his roar and people screaming).

Examine the feasibility of changing the music choices, as I felt the musical tone is too...whimsical?

I was planning to work on this today but, alas, some stuff has gotten in the way.  Still, I’m hoping to give this a try this coming week and see what I can do with the movie.

[poisonhemloc]

Originally this was going to be a continuation of the baby headcanons from a few weeks ago and then the Nomai took over and its not fully that anymore but its mostly genetics

When Nomai do art that’s showing a ‘typical Nomai’ (like in the sun station- that’s not supposed to be someone specific, the art is a stand-in for a generic Nomai) they paint whoever their clan leader is for it. (the statues were not intended to be generic Nomai- there was a planned who is near what, and the statues are carved to reflect that)

Who was clan leader? I think it was Yarrow- our Nomai would have been considered Yarrow���s clan by the time they died. Our Nomai had a period of no leader before the two escape pods met back up with each other, since Escall wasn’t on either of the escape pods that made it out. When they did meet back up, Yarrow was elected as new clan leader. Usually it’s a for life/ until resignation, but most leaders resign when they feel they’re too old to run the clan well. Everyone is in the running for a new leader when it happens, no matter how young or old.

Clan dynamics aside, let’s talk coloration-

Yarrow was leucistic- not that common, for Nomai, but not unheard of. Most Nomai were not solid white- I like to think they could be brown to red to orange to yellow to black, sometimes you get a bluish black. Solid color or calico pattern or tabby or splotchy all happens, but it’s very ‘what do your parents look like’ based. Eye colors are generally white to light orange to very dark brown, with blues and greens occurring but, rarely. Yarrow had light blue eyes.

Escall was solid russet red practically, Solanum is solid orange with dark brown eyes, Lami and Laevi and Pye (their aunt) were calico patterned, mostly orange but with russet red and yellow and brown- their family all had light orange to white eyes. Clary and Poke were mostly solid light browns- Poke had white splotches on her limbs. Poke’s eyes were white, Clary’s were very light green.

Owlks take mostly after egg laying parent- I’ve mentioned before, I view them as three separate tribes/groups? Marsh/lowlands are more greenish colored, Isles are more blueish and tend to be smallest of the three, Cliff/gorge are more grey and the largest overall. Marsh tends to have smaller horns, Isles tend to be more swept back, Cliff is more streamlined overall. 

Hearthians are very impacted by the environment their egg was in before hatching, it’s practically stronger than genetics for them- acidic vs basic water, if it’s running too much or not at all, too hot or too cold or too clear or too muddy etc. For eye color, especially, that’s not really genetic based at all except ‘if nothing else effects this they’ll be yellow’ but a lot of stuff can effect eye color. They don’t know how every different thing effects them, but if two hatchlings in a row are weird, they change conditions for the eggs (Moraine and Chert are both weirdly short- change something. Riebeck? They didn’t wait for a second weird hatchling.) The ‘normal’ range of heights is Gossan to Porphy- Feldspar and Gabbro are both outside that on different ends- Feldspar is about an inch shorter, Gabbro two or three taller. Our hatchling was first normal height traveler.

Hearthian’s freckles are like fingerprints- everyone’s are different somehow. There is a little bit of a genetic tendency to have a similar freckle pattern to parents, but it’s very easily outweighed by everything else. Freckles can be changed due to trauma, too- Gossan did not always have the stripey pattern on their face they currently have (they don’t in the museum picture). It’s not an immediate change type thing, but get hit by something hard enough and the freckles around it will start looking more like scars as the area heals.

[atztranspm]

Yunho PM 6 : 07/30/23

So he did all these lives but its cuz they kept cutting on him 😭😭 poor yunho deserves better.

He started off by saying that he had just enough battery percentage on his phone to do a live before he had to go eat. He said he had finished doing a fan sign in Tokyo today. He said that time went quick because he was talking to atiny.

(The live started to lag so it was a little hard to pick things up. Bare with me please. This is difficult 😫)

He said he hadn't eaten yet but he was going to eat after in a little bit. He said that tomorrow they go to Osaka for another schedule.

He said that he was currently using his data and not the wifi. (Baby get a new plan. The data isn't much better then the wifi 😭😭)

He said he was trying to learn a little Japanese but it was a little hard to learn. He said that he was fascinated with how atiny simplified their languages to better communicate with them and how some even learned korean to speak to them. He is amazed by how international atiny learn Korean to better understand them.

The live lagged and then cut out 🧍🏻

It's alright yall he started a new one 🤩

He forgot what he was talking about and thought for a little before saying that he will keep studying languages to better communicate with international atiny. (He really just wants to speak with us and understand us to 😭😭😭)

The live keeps cutting-

(Yunho doesn't deserve the data 😒 I'm so upset for him right now)

He apologized for the bad connection (oh baby it's not ur fault 🥺)

He ended it and restarted it (kq fix this now please 👊💥)

He came back! He said that he hopes we tale care of our meals and to eat well.

He said he was thinking of two ending heartyus for the lives. One being "make sure to eat well heartyu" and the other was "the internet needs to be scolded heartyu"

(Yall the connection was doing him so bad I want to cry for him cuz I know he was getting frustrated like deep down)

He started manifesting a good connection. He said that he was going to stay on until it cut off again and that it better last till tomorrow. (🙏 yunho is manifesting 🙏)

He saw lots of tinys cheer him on in the chat and scolding the wifi. He said that since he had now said this, it was going to work well.

His tummy rumbled 🥺😭 can this man get any cuter, I swear I'm crying. (Only saying this cuz he is yunho, any other man I would have laughed at. Yunho is just superior I don't make the rules.)

He laughed a little and said that he really has nothing to hide from atiny and and said that everything was fully exposed to us. (🤭 feeling special)

He said that he had bought like 4 cups of ramen from the store and had lots of pudding. He said later he was going to have a good meal and maybe eat meat. He said that him and seonghwa destress by eating. (They're just like me)

He saw that the live was much smoother and that his manifestation had worked (the universe works for him actually, he is the favorite) he said he doesn't get angry often and even if he did, atiny wouldn't be seeing that side of him much. He said that the members and others around him say they think he is scary when he gets mad. He said he doesn't and would rather think and reflect on the issue instead. He just wouldn't feel good or be in a bad mood but he wouldn't take his anger out like that. (He's so wholesome and precious, they don't make men like yunho 😭)

He said he hopes that no matter what, we are always happy

Then the live started cutting again 🧍🏻

He decided to end the live before it could cut out on him again. He said he was going to go eat and the co.e back after. His phone was at 1% but he said it didn't matter since he doesn't need his phone while he eats and that he would let it charge. He said internet, you weren't bad, good job heartyu" did a little byeeee and then ended the live

(Kq better get these lives running smoothly cuz my boys are STRUGGLING, I know they cry inside everytime a live cuts off)

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [6]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, but with like immediate follow up comfort, medical trauma? if you’ve ever been blown off by a doctor in the office and that frustrated you then be forewarned

Word Count: 5,119

Summary: When  you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a   Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child.   However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous  night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left.  Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned  out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears  its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #06: TRIKAR’LA, BUIR!    

Chapter Summary: Grogu goes to the doctor, and the Marshal decides he might need to murder said doctor. You get comforted by your boys.

 "Watch carefully,

 the magic that occurs,

 when you give a person,

 just enough comfort,

 to be themselves."

 - a t t i c u s

Nevarro didn’t have a large hospital. It had an emergency center and a clinic for routine appointments. Anything that couldn’t be healed or cared for within a day got transported to a nearby settlement on a neighboring world. Luckily, the transport time wasn’t very long, and Nima told you that the travel there wasn’t intense. The High Magistrate had worked out a deal to keep it that way.

Coming from a Level One Trauma Center on Coruscant, the office was shockingly puny. A simple two story building with emergency services on the first floor and routine medical care on the second. You had learned ages ago that the size of a medical center didn’t correlate to the kind of care a patient could receive. Some of the best physicians you’ve worked with came from smaller hospitals. You had no criticism there. The only thing that made you nervous was not having the kind of resources a Level One hospital would have. Coruscant had spoiled you in that sense.

For what had to be the hundredth time since leaving the station, you glanced over at Mando who walked right beside you. He held Grogu in his arms casually chatting with the boy. Grogu responded in a mix of Mando’a, Basic, and gibberish. It was painfully cute watching the Mandalorian interact with his son. Every inch of him screamed danger and intimidation, but the tender voice leaving his helmet’s modulator was nothing but soft and loving.

“Is something wrong?”

It took you a second to realize Mando was talking to you. “Hmm?”

“You keep looking over at me.”

You were getting pretty decent at reading Mando’s body language, and weirdly you could tell the difference between his head tilts. All of that, yet you still had a bad gauge on how far he could see out of his peripherals while wearing the helmet.

“Oh, er,” You scrambled for a response, “No. Nothing. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just checking on you.”

You opened your mouth but stopped yourself when you realized you were about to apologize for apologizing. Instead, you tried to steer the conversation away from your staring. “Do you know how many doctors work in Nevarro?”

“Not enough.” Mando replied. “Three rotate on the schedule right now, I think. Karga is still trying to recruit more, but until Nevarro really makes a name for itself it’s a hard sell.”

“It’s pretty impressive so far.” You motioned around to the clean and cheerful street surrounding you. “And growing fast.”

Mando nodded and your lips curled up in a smile as you watched him allow Grogu to crawl onto his shoulder and cling to his helmet. He kept one hand up just in case the child slipped. “Yes, but as always, it comes down to credits. Karga spent a lot to get this place built up. Doctors are expensive.”

“True, but if you’re gonna spend credits anywhere healthcare is a good bet.” You shrugged. “There are doctors out there who’ll take less pay to work somewhere rural. I⏤” You stopped yourself and at the sudden halt Mando glanced your way. You had nearly told him you once considered working in a rural setting. It hadn’t crossed your mind in ages, since before the incident, but you didn't think twice before nearly blurting it out. You cleared your throat. “I knew someone. From the clinic I worked in. They were specifically looking for a job somewhere rural.”

Mando nodded. “Maybe you should send their frequency number to Karga.” You forced out an awkward chuckle. “For now though, we have Bacta and cautery. You could probably find e-bacta if you asked the right people.”

“Spoken like a true bounty hunter.” You teased.

Mando let out a laugh and began to wrestle Grogu from the makeshift jungle gym of his shoulders and helmet. The clinic had come into view and you felt a ball of nervous energy begin to form in your chest. This wouldn’t be your first time in a medical facility since that night, but it would be your first time going willingly. All this morning, you hadn’t thought about it. You didn’t think this would bother you at all, but staring at the building now your mouth was becoming dry and your palms clammy.

The weight of a hand on your shoulder startled you, and your head snapped to the side to see Mando facing you. Nothing about his helmet looked concerning, but you could feel the worry radiating from him. “I’ve been calling your name. You didn’t answer.” Grogu hummed in his arms and tilted his head. “Are you sure everything is okay, cyar’ika?”

“Yes. Just...zoned out.” You tried to find an excuse, but nothing was coming to mind. So, you went for the next best thing. Topic change. “What does that word mean?”

“What?”

“The word you called me. Uh, ‘shar ekah’?” You repeated it best you could, but the word was always spoken so swift and softly that it was hard to remember the exact pronunciation. Saying ‘buir’ had been much easier.

Mando’s hand fell from your shoulder and his entire body went tense. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction. He let out a soft cough, and now it seemed like he was the one searching for something to say. Your distraction had been successful. However, now you were very curious as to what he was calling you. Mando didn’t seem like the type to secretly be calling you ‘dumbass’ all the time.

“It’s nearly 2.” He blurted. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Right!” You nodded. As curious as you were, you’d happily accept any advancement of this moment. Anything to avoid him asking you what was wrong again. He passed you to enter the building and you took in one last shaky breath before following.

The clinic’s waiting room was filled with children. This office saw patients of all ages, but with school starting up next week it seemed most families were doing exactly as Din was⏤ getting his child ready for day one. The schedule was running late so despite it being nearly half an hour past the appointment time, Din sat in the waiting room right beside you. Grogu had wiggled out of his lap to run around the room with other kids around his age. It made him nervous at first. He wanted his son to have friends to have fun to not ever feel left out, but the anxiety of him not fitting in was painful. You had reassured him that everything was fine, and you had been right. Grogu squealed and laughed as he played with three other kids.

Din was leaning back in his seat, hands clasped over his abdomen and ankles crossed, in an attempt to look as casual as he possibly could. The truth was the opposite. Din couldn’t stop peering out of the corner of his eyes at you. Luckily, the helmet made it a lot easier for him to hide his actions unlike you. Din was still worried about you. It was obvious something was making you uncomfortable, and he had been determined to get to the bottom of it. Until, of course, you innocently asked what ‘cyar’ika’ meant. That had thrown him.

The first time he called you ‘cyar’ika’ it had been entirely accidental. You had been hesitant about asking him questions about himself, and he didn’t want you to feel that way. In his reassurance the word had just slipped out. Since then, it fell out a lot more. Often by choice. Din liked the way it sounded when he was referring to you with it. He liked that every time it left his lips, you’d turn to give him attention with your pretty smile.

Technically, the answer shouldn’t be embarrassing to him. The best translation of ‘cyar’ika’ was ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, but that didn’t necessarily mean it had to be used in a romantic setting alone. It was a generalized term of endearment. He could’ve said that. Din’s problem was that he knew, deep down, he didn’t feel just a ‘generalized endearment’ for you. Din was much too attracted to you to pretend it was said with any other connotation.

His panic hadn’t helped his situation. Din spent his entire life being trained for a fight. He was taught from a young age that panic led to mistakes and mistakes led to death or worse. It had been ingrained into every single cell of his body to the point where staying calm was a muscle memory for him. It didn’t take a conscious decision. It was his default, and that default was half the reason he was so successful as a bounty hunter. Despite all of that, all it took was one innocent look from you⏤ one simple question⏤ and he melted into a pathetic puddle.

Din glanced your way again. You sat ramrod straight in your seat, shoulders tense, and your fingers were tangled together in a vice grip. He wasn’t sure how you weren’t hurting yourself holding your hands together like that. Whereas his entire body sat casual, though a farce, yours screamed stress. His own hands came unclasped as the urge to touch you in reassurance overcame him. Din managed to resist and instead crossed his arms in hopes that this position would better control his instinct.

“I haven’t been to a doctors office in a while.” You blurted. The sound of your voice had his head snap to look at you in a nearly comical speed. You were watching Grogu play while you spoke in a whisper. “I guess I’m just nervous. It’s stupid.”

“How you feel is never stupid.” Din replied. He shifted so he sat up rather than leaned back. “You didn’t have to come with us. If I had known—”

You chuckled, “I know. You wouldn’t have made me. I think you might be a little too understanding for a boss.” Din swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. That was true. Kriff, if you knew any of the thoughts he had you’d consider him the worst boss in this world— maybe in the entire Outer Rim. “I wanted to be here. For Grogu and— and you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Din disagreed. You were acting against an active fear you had for him and his son. That meant a lot to him. He knew the kind of strength it took to press onward into a setting of discomfort.

“Can I ask why?” Din asked. “Why haven’t you been to a clinic in a while?”

You shrugged and your gaze drifted down to your hands which you began to wring together. Din stayed silent. He was content with giving you all the time in the world to respond. Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze. You smiled and your words came out jokingly, “Nobody likes doctors.”

“Still important to go now and then.”

“Uh huh.” You tilted your head at him, smile growing impish. “And when’s the last time you saw a doctor? Mr. Big Bad Bounty Hunter?”

Din’s lips curled up in amusement. He loved that you were comfortable enough to joke with and tease him. He shook his head. “I have bacta and a cautery at home. Those don’t require me to sit in a waiting room for 45 minutes.”

“Fair point.” You chuckled. “Bacta and cautery do have their own faults, you know.”

“Like?” Din asked. He didn’t really care about the faults of either, but if this distracted you from your nerves he’d play along. Plus, the sound of your voice was like music to his ears. He’d sit and listen to you read the instruction manual for a caf machine without complaint.

“Well,” You began, your shoulders beginning to relax, “Bacta is incredible. No doubt. Society called it a medical miracle and they weren’t wrong. It’s only as good as the person using it though. If the wound isn’t cleaned right or debris is left inside when the Bacta is applied then everything gets trapped inside as your tissue heals. Plus, if it’s already an internal issue Bacta can’t target that. It does nothing for fever control or symptom management.” Din could tell you were getting into the conversation because you twisted in your seat to face him. “If you use Bacta on a fracture, but you don’t set it right then it heals wrong. If you mess up the measurements in a Bacta tank or the settings are wrong it can ‘overheal’ a person which just means a person’s tissues and cells rejuvenate and are reborn so fast that it floods the body. Those excess cells wreck havoc and turn to tumors wherever they land.” Din let his eyes shamelessly trace your features. This was the first topic, other than Grogu, that he had seen you get so excited about. You pointed at him with a mocking grin, “And don’t get me started on a cautery gun.”

Din chuckled, “And what exactly is wrong with my cautery gun?”

“You’re essentially creating a wound to fix a different wound.” You scoffed. “It’s great for stemming blood loss and destroying infected tissue, but between infections and scarring⏤”

Din leaned toward you, a confident tilt to his head, “I’ve never had a cautery induced infection.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

You twisted your lips, amused, and he shifted so he was as close to you as he could manage in the separate chairs. You shook your head. “Fine. You, Marshal Mando, are the one exception of the system. Congratulations.”

Din let out a breathy laugh, and he wondered what it would sound like to hear his name spoken in your voice. The beeping of his communicator made you alter your position in the chair so you were back to where you had started. Din did the same and resisted muttering the curse words bouncing around in his head. Looking at the screen he saw it was Cara. Dank farrik. She’d only call if it were actually important.

He accepted the call and Cara started talking without preamble.

“Mando, we got pirates. Mayfeld and I are on our way to the tarmac where a group of them are causing trouble, but Karga said a few were spotted by the school.”

This time he didn’t hold back the curse that came to mind. Din turned to look at you and you gave him a reassuring nod. “Go.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Din stood.

“We’ll probably still be in here.” You motioned to the waiting room.

Din reached out to squeeze your shoulder and on his way out told Grogu to behave.

Kriffing pirates.

Mando had been an excellent distraction. You had never been a fan of pirates at baseline, they were always the worst to deal with when they stumbled into the hospital in Coruscant, but now you really hated them. You tried to focus on Grogu who was still playing with a different set of kids as the ones he had been with before got called back to be seen. Before they left, you had actually exchanged a few frequency numbers to set up play dates at some point.

“Grogu?” A nurse poked her head out of a door.

He dropped the blocks he was holding to perk up at the sound of his name. Still in a playful and active mood, Grogu wanted to walk on his own rather than be held so you walked by his side as you both followed behind the nurse.

She went about taking vitals and getting some more information before leading you back to a simple room. You sat down in one of the two chairs in the corner, by the exam table, and let Grogu bounce around the room to burn off his excess energy.

“You are gonna sleep so good tonight.” You chuckled.

“No sleep. No.” Grogu chirped. “No, no.”

That was quickly becoming one of the kid’s favorite Basic words to use. You glanced up at the clock on the wall to see it was about an hour after your appointment time. Understaffed clinics got backed up, it happened, and you understood that better than most. You felt bad for the poor physician running around the office today. You were actually hoping you’d have to wait a bit longer though.

Mando wanted to be here for this, to be here for his son, and you hated that the damned pirates got in the way of that. If you could swap roles with him and handle the pirates so he could stay here with his son you would’ve. Unfortunately, that would’ve been messy for every single person involved. You didn’t have an extensive history doing well in a fight, and the only kind of blade you knew how to use was a scalpel. You’d never even held a blaster before.

“Skraan!” Grogu called out.

You shook your head. “We just ate lunch, buddy. I think we have some snacks left.” You dug around the baby bag you had packed for the day and found the container of star shaped cereal puffs you had put together this morning. “Here we go.”

Grogu bounced over to you happily and held his hands up to you. You dropped a few stars into his palms and watched him eat them one by one. He’d explored the room while eating the stars and would only return back to you for more stars. That became the routine for the next ten minutes and by then you were out of star shaped snacks.

A knock at the door startled you. “Come in!” You placed the container into the bag and motioned for Grogu to come sit on your lap. “Hi. I’m⏤”

“This is Grogu?” The man interrupted your introduction. He was older, you’d guess in his late sixties or early seventies, and was human. Thick gray hair covered his head and it matched the thick mustache above his lips.

“Yes. We’re here for⏤”

“Let’s see, school registration check up.” He read off the holopad in his hand. You shifted in your seat, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, and bit back a snarky reply. “We’ll get some blood for lab work, give the usual booster shots, and get you on your way, yeah?”

You held Grogu’s hands, skeptical, “I was actually hoping⏤”

“There’s no need for⏤”

“Please stop interrupting me.” You snapped. There was nothing you hated more than not being able to get a thought out. Maybe you’d have more patience for it if you hadn’t spent all your training being looked down at for being a young woman. You couldn’t count the number of bloated attendings you worked under who were just like the man in front of you. The doctor stayed silent but you could see annoyance on his features. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you came in, you never introduced yourself.” You said but paused before saying more. This wasn’t a hospital you had any sort of credentialing in. That meant if you wanted anything done, you were gonna have to stroke an ego. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m sure it slipped your mind with how busy you are today. I bet they have you running all over the place.”

The man chuckled. “You aren’t wrong. My name is Dr. Daelar. I am sorry about the wait time. I was caught in a different procedure room for the last hour doing a cryoablation of some skin lesions.” You resisted the urge to scoff. Doing cryoablation correctly took five minutes tops. Doing it insanely, incorrectly could maybe stretch it out to ten. You didn’t appreciate the excuse because you knew it was a lie. “As I was saying, we’ll draw some blood and get those booster shots going.”

“Thank you. We’re actually going to be forgoing the blood tests, and I was hoping you’d take a listen to his lungs.” You replied. Over lunch, Mando had explained that he wasn’t comfortable with anybody drawing blood from Grogu. He hadn’t explained the exact reasoning, but you gathered it was something from their tricky past. Even with your back to him, you could tell the topic made him mildly uncomfortable. “He’s had this night time cough I’ve noticed⏤”

Daelar shook his head. “That’s not wise. I strongly recommend the blood tests.”

“Okay.” You drew the word out. “Thank you, and I appreciate your thoughts on the matter⏤”

“These aren’t my thoughts, these are the facts.” Daelar interrupted again. “Blood work should be checked routinely for chronic illnesses. He needs this done.”

You didn’t know if Grogu could tell that you were in a bad mood, but he began to squirm and whine in your lap. He turned around and pushed up on his tip toes so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. You scooped him up to hold him closer making the action easier.

“I understand the benefits of routine lab work, and I understand the risks of refusing.” You said as calmly as you could. If this was about legal issues then you’d say the magic words that he could type in his chart and waive all liability off himself. “That being said, we’re still refusing a blood draw today.”

Daelar scoffed and shook his head. “You’re being unreasonable. As a first time mom it’s understandable to be nervous and jittery, but it’s no reason to put your son at risk.”

Oh, you really didn’t like this man. Karga had somehow managed to hire a physician that represented everything wrong with healthcare. Nice. Between the bullying and assumptions, that would be enough to piss you off alone. Add the stress of being in a clinic after so long? You really had no chance of getting out of this without losing your cool.

“You’re not drawing labs on Grogu.” You snapped.

Daelar shook his head and shrugged. “Then I don’t know if I can clear him to start school.”

“Blood work isn’t necessary for school registration. Just the boosters.” Your voice began to raise.

“Ma’am⏤” He began once more but a solid knock at the door interrupted the interaction. A nurse poked her head in one second later and Daelar snapped at her. “We’re busy in here.”

“Sorry, sir. The child’s father is here.”

Daelar smirked at you. “Good. Perhaps, this will settle the matter at hand.”

The nurse slid out of the room and was replaced by Mando. You took in the sight of him, unharmed and unmarred, and a wave of relief washed over you. If dealing with the pirates had led to a fire fight then Mando came away with no obvious injuries. Mando’s helmet tilted just a bit and you could feel his eyes on you in the same way you had looked over him. His shoulders stiffened marginally, his stance still intimidating, and you wondered if your anger was notable. You rubbed Grogu’s back soothingly.

“Oh. Marshal!” Daelar greeted. “I had no idea this was your son. I⏤”

“What’s wrong?” Mando walked over to stand beside you, ignoring Daelar entirely. He rubbed Grogu’s head and let his hand trail from his son’s head to rest on your upper back. The way he stood beside your seat nearly blocked Daelar from your view.

You lifted your chin to stare up at the T-shaped visor. “Dr. Daelar has been adamant about a blood draw despite my very clear refusal.”

Mando turned around and his hands drifted to his hips. Daelar shifted awkwardly from across the room and he let out a cough. The doctor held his hands up with a smile, “No, I think this is simply a misunderstanding.” Your eyes widened, jaw falling open. “The little Mrs," Again with the assumptions, “She misunderstood me is all. I was simply offering my recommendation, but obviously the decision falls to your hands at the end of the day. We can just work on the boosters and finish the paperwork for registration.”

A disbelieving guffaw left your throat at the audacity of this man. Mando glanced over his shoulder down at you, and you took a sharp breath through your nose. Whatever. As long as Grogu got the care he needed. Mando looked back to Daelar.

“Have you listened to my son’s lungs?”

Daelar’s eyes widened. “Hmm? Why?”

“I know Soran would have brought it up. She’s attentive. Was there a misunderstanding about Grogu’s cough?”

“No. Not at all. Sorry.” Daelar sighed. “Bring the little guy over to the exam table.”

Without speaking, Mando held his arms out to take Grogu, and you tried to hand him over. Grogu clung to your shirt, his claws digging into the material, and he buried his face further into your neck. He grumbled, “No.” You shot Mando a look, and he reached out to help detangle Grogu from you. The little boy didn’t give in.

“Grogu.” Mando said firmly. He set a hand on his back. “Come to me, ad’ika.”

“No, no!” Grogu finally lifted his head to look at his father’s visor. He shook his head and you had to lean back to keep his ears from hitting you. Grogu whined, “Trikar’la, buir!”

Despite all the tension, despite the fact that you still only knew very, very basic Mando’a, you gasped with a swell of pride. Unable to bite back the smile you wore, you cooed. “Grogu, that was so good.” You had no idea what he said beyond referring to his father, but his words sounded like it could’ve been a full sentence. Plus, he had said it in front of Daelar, a virtual stranger. “Good job, sweetie.”

You lifted your eyes to Mando, expecting a similar reaction, but his entire frame was tense. Again, his helmet gave no signs of anger, but a seething energy radiated from him. You furrowed your brow in confusion. Grogu went back to hiding his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you, and Mando shifted his hands so one rested on your back and arm.

“Let me help you up.” Mando whispered in a kind tone. “You can sit on the exam table with him.”

“Alright.” You mumbled.

You didn’t need any help standing, but Mando kept his hands on you while you rose and all the way to the exam table. Once you sat down on the sanitation paper, Mando settled beside you. He kept his arm behind you, his hand leaning on the table by your opposite thigh. You turned to look at Mando, and because of his positioning you found yourself dangerously close to his chest. If you leaned forward you could bury your face in the crook of his neck the same way Grogu was doing to you.

His head began to turn to look at you and you quickly focused your gaze forward. Daelar came over with his stethoscope and began to listen to Grogu’s lungs. He did this for a few minutes before pulling back with a nod. Daelar cleared his throat. “I’m hearing a little wheezing. Very mild. I can prescribe a nebulizer treatment at home before he goes to bed. Hold the mask over his face and just let him breathe in the medicine.”

“Thank you.” Mando said, but his tone was more intimidating than grateful.

“I’ll send a nurse in with the boosters and the medicine.” Daelar said before rushing out of the room.

You scoffed, still in disbelief on how that had gone, but when the door closed Mando shifted so he stood directly in front of you. Now he had a hand resting on the table on either side of your thighs. You blinked in surprise at the sudden motion.

“Are you alright?” Mando asked.

You forced a chuckle. “Yeah. I mean, that guy was a total ass, but he wasn’t the first jerk I’ve dealt with. Won’t be the last.” You continued rubbing Grogu’s back, not knowing what else to do with your own hands. “Granted, I could’ve done without the gaslighting, but…” It occurred to you then that Mando hadn’t hesitated to take your side. “Thanks. For having my back, I mean.”

“Always.” Mando replied with ease. He let out a soft sigh. “I’m talking to Karga about this.”

You laughed. “You’re gonna get a doctor fired because he was rude to me?” Mando didn’t reply, but his shrug was highly unconvincing. “It’s fine.”

“He upset you. That’s not fine. Grogu said⏤”

You gasped, “Yeah! What did Grogu say?”

Mando paused before leaning back. “He said you were sad.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you glanced down to gently pull Grogu away from your chest to look at him. He stared up at you with concern in his large eyes, and you gave him a smile. “I’m okay.” You gave his head a light scratch and let your fingers trail to give his ear a light, loving tongue. “Thanks for looking out for me, little guy.”

Grogu lifted his hands toward your face so you brought it down toward him. He lightly patted your cheeks and did the same thing he did this morning⏤ pressed his forehead as close to yours as you could get it. Everyone in Nevarro showed different forms of affection to Grogu, he was too cute to not pay attention to, but the most important sign of affection was the way Mando lightly set his forehead to his. You had to assume that in Grogu’s mind, that was an important thing. The fact that he was sharing that bit of love with you was overwhelming. You tried not to linger on the thought too long this morning⏤ not wanting to fall apart⏤ but Mando being here sticking up for you without hesitation only added to the situation.

You felt yourself begin to get choked up and quickly cleared your throat.

“Here. Why don’t you go to your dad?” You held out Grogu, and Mando must have sensed your distress because he took the child with no question. You gave him a broad smile. “I⏤I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

You hopped off the exam table and as you pulled the door open Mando called out. “Are you sure you’re alright, cyar’ika?”

You let a wide smile fill your features, every bit of real, and nodded sincerely, “I am. I promise. I’m⏤ This…” Considering how grateful you felt right now, you owed him as much truth as you could give. You nodded. “This is the best I’ve felt in a really long time.”

Mando nodded once, silent. Grogu lifted a hand and gave you a small wave. You rushed out of the room and made a beeline straight for the bathroom you had passed on the way into the procedure room. Finally away from prying eyes, you leaned against the locked bathroom door and began to trace the scar along your collarbone. Even with your fingers ghosting over the ugly patch of skin, you felt happy⏤ cared for. Maker, you didn’t think you’d actually feel that way ever again.

mando’a translations:

cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart

trikar’la: sad

buir: father

[hyperfashionist]

A Spoiltastic Journey

through the Entire Space: 1999 Canon

up to “Odysseus Wept”

Story 1: Eternity Unleashed

Chapter 7 of 12

It's time for some spoily commentary on Chapter 7 of Eternity Unleashed!

Spoilers under the cut. You have been warned.

Back to Chapter 6 of this story

Forth to Chapter 8 of this story

Back to original post on this story

Return to Series Preface

Forth to Story 2: The Touch of Venus

Chapter Seven of Eternity Unleashed: A Spoiler-Filled Commentary

Previously it was mentioned that all societal institutions had fallen unnoticed into attrition. In Chapter 7 we learn that basic yet not-strictly-essential infrastructure such as street cleaning is a thing of the past, and the only currency is stories.

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Observation: Stories are, of course, simulations, with all risk removed; narratives of a time when something was at stake. Notably, what stories are explicitly mentioned seem to be historical re-enactments rather than intentionally fictional narratives.

Essentially, Progrons are a society of WoW addicts. It's rather difficult to argue that they shouldn't be, since no physical harm can come to them, and they have no apparent spirituality or aspiration to anything higher than the immediate experience of embodiment.

This seems pitiable to us, but why should we assume that Progrons have what we might loosely describe as souls, just because they're intelligent bipeds? Or perhaps there was a time when they thought they did, and that was what Xmonolor's principles were trying to stamp out. Or not, but Progron society threw the baby out with the bathwater.

---

There are teams of state agents being sent out into the provinces to impose immortality treatment on noncompliant citizens, and it turns out that the pushback on this enforcement has brought some provincial towns to a state of "near civil war".

---

Observation: We weren’t hearing about this dissent until now, but it makes sense that, if the desert is where counterculture is located (after all, that's why Bexan raised his invalid daughter in the desert), all the resistance would also come from the desert. 

Observation: News is apparently being communicated by word of mouth (we have seen messages delivered in person, never over any kind of network channel); the knowledge state of every character throughout the story so far supports the idea that Progron doesn’t have the communications systems you’d expect. One wonders how they have the informational infrastructure to carry out research if that's the case.

---

Talian doesn’t know what Balor’s plan is, he just follows him around, not getting it. Balor explains that everyone’s got to Learn and they are gonna Learn good and hard tonight.

The latest hit show is basically a torture porn in which the actor always reconstitutes at the end, because immortality/invulnerability.

---

Observation: Again, you’d think the popularity of shows like these would contradict Balor’s conclusions, otherwise what actor from this allegedly hedonistic and pain-averse society would have the endurance to go through that process for eight shows a week? 

---

Anyway, there follows a farcical scene in which the audience of this show get sliced up by “telves” - bladed weapons - wielded by “black-garbed followers of Balor”, of whom there seems to be no shortage.

Pause for Reflection

The world of Progron has adequately suspended my disbelief until now, but it’s started to lose me here.

To be fair, the slice'n'dice scene is not any sillier - maybe less silly - than a lot of scenes of its ilk, which are very difficult to write well. 

However, this is also the point at which I started actively disliking, rather than just tolerating, the experience of reading this story. I'm simply not finding anything to engage me. The narrative is written with a cold detachment which probably represents Balor's haughty worldview, so it makes sense on paper, but is not actually interesting. I'm not rooting for Balor; Talian is nothing more than a gormless henchman; the people of Progron must be well past their natural lifespan by now so I don’t care what happens to them. I *guess* the worst that could happen is an eternity of being continuously attacked by Balor's followers and regenerating only to experience it again. But that's the Progrons' problem, not mine.

Don't misunderstand me: I’m only about halfway through this story, so I’m not giving it a thumbs down or anything before I even finish it. I’m just reporting my emotional response at what is supposed to be the/a climax of the story. 

But Anyway

But anyway, Balor’s mega violence That’ll Teach You program gets rolled out throughout the capital city and outwards through the wider inhabited areas. He starts with the capital, Mente, and is following that with thirty more cities.

In the next scene, a group of friends are LARPing in the desert (so I infer the rollout in the cities is completed and the program is reaching the more remote areas). These LARPers marvel in admiration of the approaching army, which they mistake for a group of performers. This provides one of perhaps two brief expressions of positive emotion in the story so far (the previous one being Milsa's glowing response to Balor's conversation). We actually read some dialogue spoken by them, rather than just having their reactions reported to us. The effect is to make it mildly regrettable when the LARPers get sliced and diced too. 

Apparently the trick, with an invulnerable population, is to keep doing it repeatedly and often enough that people don’t have time to recover. The actor in the show where the first attack took place would end in a “nearly liquid” state and recover before the audience’s eyes as part of the performance, so recovery is very quick.

---

Observation: If people are being attacked with hand-held bladed weapons, Balor must have a hell of a lot of followers with almost tireless strength to keep attacking quickly and repeatedly enough to overpower this many victims. 

Observation: A number of things that seemed contradictory are starting to make sense now. It makes sense that Balor's followers would be recruited from the performers: they have the discipline to endure pain eight shows a week, and are probably very physically fit. They also probably have built up considerable resentment against the audiences that objectify and exploit them in this way. Since there are no consumer or luxury goods being produced, these actors’ fame isn’t going to be rewarded with money, as there's nothing special to buy with it. They’re considered more sexually desirable, but that’s just more objectification. The performers probably lack any theoretical framework, or even much self-awareness, about their own resentment; but they are clearly mad as hell and unwilling to take it any more.

---

Back on the state immortality rollout: a mob of townsfolk, led by the "town leader" plus deputy, show up in the desert and corner a couple who are snuggling in the evening after a hard day’s work.

This couple's snuggling provides the third brief expression of positive emotion in the story so far; and with it, a moment of mild suspense.

The couple have refused the immortality treatment, the mob wants to impose it. The woman pleads to be allowed to wait til after her baby is born. The response is “we don’t need no stinkin’ babies” and the agents kill the guy and forcibly administer the treatment, which has the effect of expelling the fetus.

The rationale for imposing the immortality treatment - which imposition Balor wouldn't, apparently, personally have endorsed - is that if there are any mortals, nobody can tell who’s immortal.

---

Observation: I assume they’re just being totalitarian: by definition, they don’t care if the mortals come to harm given that they're killing them for noncompliance, and there presumably is no healthcare or education sector left for the state to care about. Yeah, Progron seems to be institutionally cool with mindless violence.

---

Anyway, the woman awakens to find her husband dismembered and her fetus placed on top of his remains, still in its birth sac. She starts a huge fire and immolates herself, but she can’t die. 

Quelle surprise, big reveal, amazement shock horror: the woman is Milsa. 

I saw that one coming (am I a genius or what); but I do slightly care what happens to Milsa, at least compared to any of the other characters. So, though I wouldn't exactly say things are looking up, I will at least live to read another day.

Questions

Q: So Milsa’s moved in with a bunch of hippies while she was off in Nepal finding herself; and Talian doesn’t (I assume) know about it. No communication *at all*. For how long? People have been immortal for yonks by now, yet Milsa can't be one of them, because she was able to conceive. Whereas Balor says the people of Progron have been immortal for too long to give them the benefit of the doubt that the obsession with hedonism is just a phase - Milsa is still in her childbearing years. So it can't have been that long after all.

Q: If force *is* still psychologically threatening, as we’re shown in Balor’s decisive initial experiment, how is Balor the first person to discover this and act on it? Wouldn’t the state be way ahead of him, considering how controlling they are?

Q: How, furthermore, is the state able to motivate a bunch of agents to get up in the morning and police the population, if, before this point, nobody has thought to ask whether force still has meaningful effects on either the agents or the population? As far as anybody knew until then, force didn't do anything. So policing must be entirely by consent. The town leaders who attack Milsa’s family seem to be craven rule-followers, so maybe it just doesn't occur to them to do anything else. 

Gender Balance

Not Specified

The "most popular entertainers", whom Balor "disappeared" without anybody noticing

Balor's scouts, out checking on the state of the planet

Cast of Gash, the stage show attacked by Balor's followers

Mengas, the town leader who attacks Milsa and Calad

Mob of 40 townspeople in the attack led by Mengas and Jeffa

Milsa and Calad's child-to-be

NB running total = 20

Female

Gelta, a stripper, one of Balor's followers, who enables an attack on her audience

F running total = 13

Male

Premer of Gruyorg, a historical martyr

Benemat, who plays Premer on stage

Audience member whose arm is severed by one of Balor's gang

Yetcha, Lumat, and an unnamed third LARPer in the desert

Balor's black-garbed followers who carry out his attacks, referred to as "men" by Lumat

Calad, mortal husband of Milsa

Jeffa, the assistant town leader

M running total = 26

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Forth to Story 2: The Touch of Venus