#…in conclusion happy pride month everyone

[box-box-blorbos]

We’ve created a very interesting atmosphere in this cooldown room today…

Lewis complimenting people’s rear ends,, Fernando with the TONGUE

[wackpedion]

A little thing I drew for school last year, considering my journey and finding out I'm genderfluid. It was a lot of just going in circles, constantly doubting and changing my mind, paired with bad emotional memory which made it only harder to reflect on my various experiences and come to the right conclusion. But hey, I eventually got there! And so to everyone who knows who they are, or are still trying to find themselves, happy pride month :)

[starryficsfinishwen]

── .✦ doomsday game ; xiangli yao x reader

if the world was ending, would you love me for the hell of it? syn. if, theoretically, the world were to end today, what would you do? if you ask xiangli yao, he wouldn't mind spending the last days on earth with you.

*inspired by 4* zayne card with the same name (love and deepspace)

a.n. - oh god he corrupts me I love him. HAPPY RELEASE DAY XIANGLI YAO!!! As an honor for getting his weap, for now being guaranteed (my S1 Xiangli Yao is glacio and short??), I GIVE THIS FIC AS MY THANK YOU. ALSOHAHSHSHSHS I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE WRONG FIC IM SORRY BUT HERE IT IS

pairing - xiangli yao x f!rover

words - will edit when I switch to lappy

content warnings - none!! major fluff!! also pre-established relationship

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Potent rumors often plant seeds of disbelief.

It often came as a small white lie, an utterance between two consenting parties. When it reaches the leeching tongue of the birds, they fall to the ground, sprouting things that are weeds to the truth. If left alone, they would deter nature's course.

For example, the rumors somewhat turned into some prophecy— “the world is ending soon”.

How does it end? They say it's a global snowstorm. Maybe another global flood. A supernova collision. No, they definitely said it was an onslaught of active volcanoes erupting to create a flood of lava. Or maybe, some Sentinel wished for immense havoc, with its god-like power awakening to slaughter everything in its path.

However, for scientists like Xiangli Yao, all those claims seem comical.

“The world is ending soon?” A fellow scientist slaps his own knee, “That's complete bull!”

In the middle of the long table of the Academy, what was once a flickering 3D map of Jinzhou was temporarily dimmed; instead, a couple of scientists had gathered, playing cards for their breaktime.

“I know, right? It's too funny; they really think the world is ending so soon.”

One of them throws the card, a chorus of laughter.

“My findings say otherwise,” said a cocky researcher, “The fluctuations isn't very severe. We can live to see another millennia here in our world!”

“The plants and people are still alive and well.” The glimmer of a card catches everyone else's attention, “Very far from the truth indeed.”

One scientist lets out an indignant huff, “But how did they even reach that conclusion? Do they have the data?”

The group pauses for a bit. Some bit their lip, another shuffled their cards, and the other couldn't help but sigh. “Um, proof or not, I think they are still sprouting nonsense.” Muttered the first scientist.

Another eerie silence envelops them. Until one of them throws a card at the center. “The tacet marks have been spreading nonstop...”

They throw another. “TD's are also unstable, giving a major interference to the once-natural resonance cords.”

And when he throws the last trump card, almost all of the players had a grim look on their face. “We are merely just a few months recovering from the Retroact Rain. Our soldiers cannot handle another catastrophe!!”

With a trembling shout from the scientist, everyone else near the group stopped on their tracks. Noticing that the attention was on him, the poor scientist slides back to his chair, embarrassed. Even the ones he was playing with had a gloomy face.

“...Not to diminish our pride but...who knows...what happens to Jinzhou...not to mention our Sentinel and Magistrate...”

“That's understandable. The evidences speak for themselves.”

All eyes are on the man who spoke after a long while. Between the dim lights of the Academy's hall and his slow steps, his versicolored eyes glimmers brightly than ever.

“I understand your concerns, Ray,” Xiangli Yao reaches out to pat the forlorn scientist by his shoulder, “We are merely at the recovery stage for Jinzhou, yet our nation has been going through too many things already.”

Amethyst eyes wander among the resonance cords on the screen. They catch a familiar face of a person, one that made his own heart skip a beat.

“However, Jinzhou still stands until today. We cannot say the exact date for the end of the world—it could be today, tomorrow, or another millennium—but as long as we are still here to see the flowers blooming or the children laughing, then why should we stop today?”

A roar of cheers erupts throughout the hall. The lamenting scientist sniffles in joy. Yet the Principal Investigator couldn't look away from the certain figure of a girl.

“But if the world were to end soon,” muttered a nearby scientist, causing Xiangli Yao to glance at him, “Hmm...I wonder where I'll go.”

Without a clear future in mind, and you, the Rover, who only woke up just now—the thought is scary. If, indeed, the world was ending soon, then what happens next? What happens to you?

The cats have been meowing nonstop.

As if sensing the air, they were pawing at your ankles, as if trying to catch your attention. One, two, three- maybe even five- cats trying to catch your attention.

Picking the white one, who was the one visibly stressed, you coo her as you scratched the back of her ear.

“What's wrong, hm?” You playfully kissed the cat's cheek, “Was the food not enough for you? If I overfeed you, Mr. Investigator will have to put you on another diet.”

Somehow understanding you, the cat gently pushes you off of their face with their paws, meowing.

“Hey, I'm telling the truth! As much as it hurts my poor heart, I can't feed you again today...”

“...I suppose you can allow them,” pipped a familiar voice, “They do look awfully thin.”

Nearly spilling the cat off of your arms, you squeak as you turn to meet a smiling Xiangli Yao. “M-Mr. Investigator?!”

“It's the first time you've addressed me by my title, Ms. Rover,” He teases, opting to carry the black cat on your feet, “I suppose our relationship is back to being professional?”

“The cats seem to know you more like that,” you emphasized, “Mr. Principal Investigator.”

He laughs—a tender laugh, it makes your heart squeeze—that it makes you pout. “I suppose that is right. Consider it a working place, then.”

Xiangli Yao stands next to you, holding out the black cat as it meows. With a funny thought, you ask, “Did you even know why they approached you in the first place?”

“Is it because I feed them?”

“No,” You playfully stuck out your tongue at him, “They say it's because it's to ward off bad spirits.”

Xiangli Yao goes silent, before looking at the cat, then back to you. “Hmm. I suppose I should stay away from you?”

Ultimately backfired. The joke goes back to you. With a dramatic gasp, you shrug. “Seeing as the cats was the one who approached me today, I think it's you who should go away for now.”

Freely laughing onto the summer air, the cats' meows intertwine with the yours. It's like any other workday— Xiangli Yao leaves mid-afternoon from work to meet and feed the cats, walking elsewhere until he's comfortable enough to go and finish his work.

It's only been a few weeks since a new addition to his itinerary: you. Now, every afternoon, the cats would find themselves carried by the warm sunlight; and you, taking care of them before him, drenched in sunset glow.

Like now, Xiangli Yao notes. But the thoughts were far too tempting. He takes a dive in them.

“So, Mr. Investigator,” you asked as you found yourselves by the stalls, nudging him softly, “where to next?”

The cats slowly left as soon as your walks stretched farther than usual. You were too nice to disturb Xiangli Yao, when he was far too absorbed in his thoughts.

“...Ah,” He purses his lips, slowly stopping in his steps, “I'm sorry, Rover. I hadn't realized we've gone this far.”

The streets decorated with the loud and bursting stalls sound in the background. Yet in the midst of it all, Xiangli Yao is silent as ever, his robotic hand over his lips, eyebrows furrowed. You think it's cute, from the curve of his pout, but you quickly shake it off.

“No worries at all. But you look like you have a lot on your mind, maybe you want to share them?”

Xiangli Yao looks at you. Behind you, the sun in Jinzhou has never set—bathing you in its reverberating halo, casting an ethereal glow. With his heart skipping a beat, he looks away with a sigh.

“...[Y/N],” every syllable of your name sounds too foreign for him, yet too holy, “Would you...like to come and stay with me for now?”

“Of course,” You smile, “Where do you want to go, Xiangli?”

His face remains serious as he speaks. “My house.”

“...I'm sorry?”

Going to Xiangli Yao's house was something you've never expected.

Sure, you often get invitations to visit your friends' houses once in a while. But it seems different when someone like Xiangli Yao asks you to go home with me.

Wait. With a mental slap, you scold yourself. Why do you feel different when it's with Xiangli Yao? Was there something about him? Watching unfocused amethyst eyes seems to make you worry. You were definitely not feeling something, right?

Unless?

“Is there anything else you'd like?” Xiangli Yao pops up from his kitchen, carrying a plate full of snacks in one arm and drinks in another, “I'm sorry, these are some of the food I could make.”

“It's okay, I'm more than happy to already taste what you make!” You said as you rush to help him.

But as you are about to take the plates, you couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh, does my hand scare you?”

Instead of the usual robotic hand you've grown accustomed to, it had morphed into a larger metal plate, to fit the two plates.

“No!” You shake your head with a laugh, “It's just the first time I've seen it like this. Does it change back?”

By the time the plates are on the table, Xiangli Yao twists his robotic hand (plate?), popping it out of the socket. “It does. Let me get it.”

“Do you...” Watching him scurry, you pick up a chip from the plate, “...need a hand?”

A resounding clang! echoes back to you. It takes a while before he returns to the room, rolling his hand as he grins. “I believe it's back in its proper place.”

Still the same stupid jokes that make you cackle. Eventually, you both settle down. The afternoon telenovela plays on the TV. Finally settled to sit on the ground instead of the chair, you end up picking the savory chips, munching as you devotedly watch the scenes in front of you. You don't even bat an eye even as you feel Xiangli Yao sits next to you. Silence. But a good kind.

How long have you known Xiangli Yao again? Whatever you both do, you're still content with each other's company. From the corner of your eye, you notice his gaze firmly on the TV, empty hands hair's breadth away.

“The Moonlit Fair,” you said slowly after a comfortable silence, “now that it's over, are you back to your usual work?”

He hums. “Depends how you define "usual work".”

“Metalwork and other groundbreaking discoveries.”

You bring your knees close to your face, resting your head so you could comfortably turn to see Xiangli Yao's face. Chromatic colors paint the neutral look on his face. Yet when he turns, a pretty smile replaces it.

“The field of science is only a curiosity away,” he pipes, mimicking your pose, “That's always something I've been doing, even before the start of the Moonlit Fair.”

This goody-two-shoes prodigy has always been the talk of the town. Even in Huaxu Academy, even from Mortefi's mouth, he is long lauded as someone who easily creates breakthroughs.

“I'm jealous.” You admit, sighing, “You can easily create new things.”

“That's not true.”

“Ah, I guess I can say with pride that I often help people, too.”

“However you may say it, it doesn't erase the fact that you are doing so much more than you think.” He said, “You're the mysterious Rover. You have lost memories related to this city. And from what I've heard, you hold so much history.”

He reaches out, human hand hesitating to touch your face. With a fleeting downcast gaze, he ends up booping your cheek. It makes you flinch from surprise.

“...I should be the one jealous of you, if that's the case, [Y/N].” His smile causes his eyes to close, a genuine look on his face, “You've done many incredible things that are worthy rather than simple praises.”

Did Xiangli Yao ever look this pretty before? Soft skin and amethyst irises through fluttering lashes. You wish you could brush away the hair that covers his eyes. Carefree, kissable lips. Wait—you cough, looking awau to hide the blush tinting your cheeks.

“Please, stop flattering me. I might end up bursting a hole in your roof.”

“I'll be sure to let Xiang-LEE and Patty fix that.”

A ticklish giggle escapes your lips as you turn back to see him. “Please leave my kids alone, you have overworked them during the festival.”

“...Please don't worry,” he shrugs, chuckling, “They'll be granted a paid vacation anyways.”

Seeing as the telenovela has lost its charm, and the poor food in front of you could go to waste, and maybe not wanting to end the fun yet, you decide to test your waters.

“Xiangli,” you said, noticing how he perked his head at the mention of his name, “I want to play a game.”

“An electronic one again?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Truth or Dare.”

Xiangli Yao laughs. “Oh, I didn't know you were into childish games like that.”

“I'm curious about you, and I'm sure you feel the same way.” You point out, “What's a better way than to play a game?”

“You could have asked and I wouldn't mind answering, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sit up straight, grinning, “Truth or Dare?”

Xiangli Yao mirrors you. “Already?”

“Pick already, or I might change my mind.”

“Hmm...Dare.”

Suppose your afternoon would be so different. A few chugs of the drinks, greedy hoarding of chips, spent markers, and random doodles later, you find yourself dressed in one of his lab coats with a clip of some of his IDs, and him in the flashiest shirt. The laughter has long strained your lips but it still ends up being the sweetest you've ever tasted. Apart from that, the glow in Xiangli Yao's face is also different, one that makes your heart skip faster.

“You've what?”

Xiangli Yao laughs a little too loudly. “A mini mouse that would greet anyone who opens the door. Mortefi was the first victim, because I didn't know he was deathly afraid of mice.”

The mental image of Mortefi from Xiangli Yao's prank comes abruptly that it causes you to match the latter's laughter—hollering until your back finds the sofa, slapping the carpet.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, “It's not even a surprise why he hates you even more!”

Xiangli Yao wipes a tear from his eye, sparkly eyeshadow slightly staining his cheeks, “I bought him some coffee to apologize, but the joke hadn't died down for weeks.”

He finds himself sitting closely with you now, head against the sofa. With a little of your mingling laughter in the air, he couldn't help but watch as your fits of laughter continued, albeit a little softer. Through your literal rose-colored lenses, did you see the world like that, too?

“It's my turn now, right?” You ask, your shoulders an aftershock from your laughter.

“Mm,” he nods, “Have you run out already?”

“No, never!”

“Alright, since I've been picking dares for a while. I'll go with truth.”

“Have you ever heard of the rumors?” You begin, laughter dying down, as you take a bite from the chip. “That the world is "ending soon"?”

Xiangli Yao freezes. So you've heard. It's no surprise as it already made a turmoil between the scientists in Huaxu Academy. Yet the dread somehow comes creeping back to him.

“If, theoretically, the world were to end today,” you slowly speak, carefully choosing the words, “In a few hours or so. What would you do?”

What would he do? A tricky question. But a calid one at that. “The end of the world wouldn't happen so abruptly.”

“Mm, yeah, but I am curious about your answer.”

What would Xiangli Yao do? And somehow, the dimming living room feels so small, the only light source was a forgotten TV color palette. When he looks at you, your doe eyes sparkle in the darkness. The closeness of your bodies, the fleeting smell of spring on your shoulder, with a hint of him.

“Well...” He slides down to the floor, patting the space beside him, “I'll let you know if you lay here with me.”

“Are you sure there are no pranks here?”

“I'm honest.”

You eventually follow his words, so you could meet the level of his eyes. Watching the glow of his inspiration-filled eyes, they somehow make you smile.

“I heard all about it when my colleagues were playing a game during break time.” Xiangli Yao begins, “Some claim it's not true, but there have been others who believe it's so soon.”

“What do you think?”

He looks away, opting to stare at the ceiling above. You follow his sight, unaware of what was next.

“I don't know.” He says truthfully, robotic hand pointing upward, “With everything that has happened, no one else can predict it.”

“Even a knowledgeable scientist like you?”

He glances at you. “Even a knowledgeable scientist like me.”

He looks back to where his hand points. Casting a power, a small purple cube dances in his robotic hand, knowing that you were watching so intently.

“But if the world were to end today, then I wouldn't mind spending the day with the cats I feed.”

The cube glows brightly, floating so freely in his hand. A flash of scenes play through its squares, too fast to see, yet too slow to be noticed.

“I wouldn't mind having the TV on, sitting on the floor with snacks all over, even though there's a perfectly good sofa.”

He hears your small laugh, which makes him smile. The cube falls to his chest, where it travels all the way to you.

“I wouldn't mind spending the last hours playing Truth or Dare, with someone who's extraordinary.”

This time, Xiangli Yao looks at you. Wide-eyed and speechless, from the way the cube touches your outstretched hand, watching the faint glow of the halo on your own body. If the world were to end, he wouldn't get tired of watching this view; watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stare in awe, calloused hands tenderly watching over his own work of art, knowing that there'll never be another you if the world were to end.

Knowing that he's long been blessed to exist in the world where you are in it.

“I think I wouldn't mind spending the last hours on Solaris-3 with you, [Y/N].”

The cube pops, a sprinkle of glitter all over your body. Glancing, your heart throbs loudly in your chest, as you heard his confession.

How did this happen again? You were merely friends with the scientist. After the successful Moonlit Fair, you often find yourself bumping into him, simple errands and impromptu hang outs when you do. Watching Xiangli Yao in his humble abode, the telenovela a white noise, and the shade of colors lighting his face—have you ever seen him more than a friend?

“Xiangli Yao,” you breathe, which made him freeze, “you...”

He smiles. “I'm not rushing to know your answer. I am merely stating the facts.”

A good friend. But now you figured out why that rubs you off the wrong way. You have always known the answer to your feelings.

“[Y/N],” Even the way Xiangli Yao speaks your name, a softer one, where in the world they called you "Rover", he calls you differently.

“[Y/N],” Reaching out, his human hand finds a strand of your hair, gently pulling it to his lips. “[Y/N],”

Xiangli Yao calls your name, one that makes you throb.

“If, theoretically,” he repeats the question you asked before, “the world does end today, what will you do?”

In a world where your memories are lost in the ripples of time and reverberation. You had the same answer.

“...I wouldn't mind spending it with a certain scientist.” You smile, watching him mirror yours, “I wouldn't mind spending it with you, Xiangli Yao.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Xiangli,” you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he closes his eyes to snuggle to the warmth, “Xiangli, you're like the cats.”

“Then will you ever mind if I could hold on to you?”

Weary arms find themselves asking for yours. And like you, touch-starved for his own touch, lean onto him, the smell of spring and that you could forget the world.

“...I would,” you said, and you do mean it, “I'll hold onto you, Xiangli.”

Oh god pls let me have him irl too

don't forget to like, comment, share, and reblog!!

— starry

[unknownteapot]

a future with us (5817 words) by unknownteapot ship: Angela Giarratana/Amanda Lehan-Canto series: part ii of a field of yellow flowers summary: "But Amanda was done. Amanda was tired. She’d been tired of fighting herself for three months to rid her mind of memories about a night that felt intoxicating, and she was tired now- of hiding the feelings that blossomed inside her, of things that felt like magic, things that felt so unmistakably right. Of everything, in truth. Amanda was tired of everything."

or, a continuation of and conclusion to 'a field of yellow flowers' anD HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE <3

i dedicate this fic to @sage-lights @xxsuicidalravenxx @ammnd @okiankeno @baflegacy @poppyfamily i really admire ya'll and all the magic you create for the amangela community <3

[rheakira]

Happy June and Pride Month! I've come with an update.

So these past weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking. From how this was meant to be my break to recoup but ultimately became a period of frustration and grief behind closed doors for me, I've finally decided to make a concrete decision.

I've decided to come back and be as active as I can manage.

Simply put, after watching a number of people around me make it clear that they didn't want me to be part of their community, I came to a very clear conclusion.

The longer I'm away, the more comfortable some people are in not only pretending I never existed, but they'll also feel more just and powerful in hurting people like me the next time they come around due to lack of accountability.

So, no. I will no longer be on hiatus. I will be posting art again. And I will be a regular face in this community as I have always been. Because if the color of my skin is enough to make people do everything in their power to remove me from what should be a safe space for everyone and consistently try to push me over the edge, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to be a lot more persistent in my presence.

Not just for myself and my happiness, but for the safety and happiness of POC that want to be part of community and enjoy what they love without bigots blocking the door.

For the past few months, I've been at the lowest point in my life, not only from IRL events, but from a long term pile up of bigoted attacks and manipulation to ruin my standing in communities with no real reason other than people deciding they can't stand human beings like me. I was heavily contemplating the worst, but I'm honestly I'm so sick of the behavior toward BIPOC queers and disabled folks that I entirely refuse to be silenced anymore.

Expect more art from me! And if you're POC, queer, disabled, etc. I hope you stick around or hop right in, because I plan to keep you seen and appreciated when everyone wants you gone. We deserve to be where we belong and to be treated with equal care to our white, cishet, and abled peers.

Thanks for listening. Criticisms on this choice will not be acknowledged. Happy to be back! I've got lots of projects in the works to share with everyone. ✌

[fuckincityhands]

please may we hear your trans Adam headcanons he really means so much to me <3333

HELLO YES ??? I love being insufferable !!1!!1?!

okay this man can NOT afford top surgery. look at him in his self proclaimed shit-hole apartment. He's buying vegetarian ramen because it's cheaper and buys the worst binders because they cost the least. this also means sock packers.

His layered button up over his baggy shirts is not only a fashion statement, he is actively attempting to cover up the binder straps. Most of his shirts will either have smaller neck holes or he'll layer it so nobody can see the damn thing.

He's definitely stealth. Nobody knows and he likes it that way. In my head he gets upset if anyone "figures him out", in a really defensive way. Less than favorable reactions to him coming out in the past (when he was younger and couldn't be stealth yet), so he immediately becomes defensive and almost angry over the topic. Unhealthy, but his whole "We're both bullshitters" speech makes me think he believes he's lying to everyone about being a guy, and he has to come to the realization that he's not. A LONNNGGG journey of self acceptance and deconstructing negative views on trans people that had been ingrained into him.

Also he is wearing his binder to bed. does NOT follow safety standards in desperate attempts to relieve dysphoria. Such bad imposter syndrome about being a dude when he's literally like that tm.

Adam will wheeze and bitch about how bad his asthma is while a cigarette is in one hand and the other is adjusting the bottom strap of his binder. He plays his asthma off like it's genetic and not because his lungs are being actively killed.

I like to think that, in an ideal world, post saw-trap Adam would come to the conclusion that he can't keep living like this, breathing hard after the briefest amount of effort, so he actually takes breaks from his business and embraces his body as it is. yippie to self love !!

Adam probably feels vaguely jealous that he can't just walk around the house shirtless like an "actual guy" but he has an epiphany and says fuck it and does walk around shirtless. Pre-op trans men not binding my beloved !1!1!1!!!

I think it was my friend who mentioned him doing back street testosterone, mostly as a joke but it stuck in my brain. Drug deals but it's just his T-shots.

Speaking of!! I think he likes needles more than the average dude. Makes him feel more masc that he does his own shots. Keeps the needles a little longer than he should before he throws them out to get rid of the evidence.

I do think his years of awful binding practice bites him in the ass though. But with the right support and self acceptance he doesn't need top surgery to feel valid and real.

Happy pride month, specific shout out to pre-op trans men !!!! we r so so cool I promise

[justallihere]

i know its a month late for the birthday bash and pride month is over but i love Violet and her 2 pretty boyfriends agenda.

The way I IMMEDIATELY DROPPED everything to read this. Is it weird to say I missed you??? Bc I did (i still want you to be okay/healthy/happy before youre fully back)

I deadass for a second thought this was set after she got tortured by Varrish and I had to recalibrate my brain 💀 I weirdly got sad bc I forgot Liam isn't alive in canon and this isn't real

I loved the pacing and how Vi just didn't talk to anybody for like 2 weeks. Shit hit the fan and she needs time to figure her shit out!!!! The details of the interaction with Mags and her not looking at Brennan were so good!!!

In conclusion: Violet and her 2 very pretty boyfriends spoiling the shit out of her, as they should!!!!

okay look i was originally going to write a very different fic for the birthday bash but my brain said no thanks. there was no way i was going to get anything up in time for it in may but i was aiming to be less than two weeks late (which would have actually be in time for pride month) and. . . life happened. i started writing this fic almost a month ago, got like 5 or 6k into it, then didn't touch it for three weeks. but i was determined this week and i'm so glad everyone likes it!!

it will def still be a few weeks before i have anything new for sitq but i've been in a really good writing groove the past few days and it's felt so nice! i've written over 10k words since wednesday or thursday i think.

post-FW violet is an angry, petty little kitten who just needs people to share things with her and be nice to her. she deserves 2 pretty boyfriends spoiling her. i firmly believe that every version of violet deserves good dick and i'll always give it to her. she is living her best life and i love that for her!!!!

[starphasedd]

Unmade

1 - The Prelude

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Rating: 18+ for violence, explicit language, and eventual smut.

Synopsis: "When Din saw the look in your eyes at the sight of the child, he knew he made the right decision coming to you."

Notes: Hiii 🥺 It's been so long since I've had the motivation or inspiration to write. I'm so happy to finally post chapter one of my new works. 💓

This is a new multi-chapter series that will be worth reading, guaranteed. 👌 updates may be slow. But I promise I am working on it. And yes--smut coming soon. In the next chapter 🔥

Each chapter will have an assigned theme song. Literally just a song I listened to while writing that had me vibing. Name and artist in the notes below. 😊

Word count: 5k +

AO3 | chapter 2

9Aby - Tatooine - Ten months prior to present

It was getting increasingly difficult to find work. 

Jobs were getting smaller and less complicated by the day. Some were bigger than others, but nothing compared to what you used to bring in. You've seen everything from small weapons repair, to minor speeder bike maintenance. But for the most part, they were small and low compensating jobs. 

You found it hard to afford the essentials anymore. Food, water, toiletries–any base comfort to life. You hadn't had a home cooked meal in months . You ate what you could find or pawn off any wealthy vendor along the streets. 

Luckily, you owned your own shop. You were infinitely grateful for that. It meant you had a place to sleep; a roof over your head. Most importantly, a door to close and lock at the end of the night. To keep the thieves and possibly more , out. 

Mos Eisley had been attracting people from all over in recent years. You heard of a spice trade running rampant nearby from people in the village, but you always tried to ignore the banter. It was never good to involve yourself with those kinds of things. You made it a personal goal to stay pretty introverted. It was best for you, and everyone around you to not get involved in trivial things like gossip and politics. 

It was testing, though. The drugs coming through town had taken a toll on your business. 

It makes it hard for you to bring in any credits. Very hard. The criminals were starting to take over, driving all of the families with children out. Not only was it becoming difficult for you to earn any credits, it was making it difficult for you to earn clean credits. 

For the longest time, your customer base were family men with speeders, regular weapons used for recreation and such. They were clean, good credits. You could take pride in helping the people of this town. You were contributing to happy and healthy lifestyles. It was relatively wholesome.

It’s not like that anymore.

Outsiders would come in looking for repairs on their weapons, only for you to find out the particular weapons they had in their possessions were registered as stolen. Ninety nine percent of the time, that meant they were previously owned by Imperials and were now being used in some type of crime syndicate. At first, you would turn them away. Even if it meant getting cursed at or losing business. You had options back then. But when more of them started rolling into town, driving the city folk away, you had no choice but to start taking their business. It was survival, at this point. 

You laid awake at night, wondering–thinking of ways you could turn everything around. It always came to the same conclusion. You were a defenseless woman, operating a male dominated trade, in a town that was now overrun by criminals. 

And you were alone. 

You didn't have any family. Or even friends, for that matter. You kept to yourself all these years, solitude being your closest friend. 

You did have an acquaintance that worked out of a hangar bay in the spaceport. Peli Motto. She was just that though. An acquaintance . Not a friend. There was something about her that irked you. Maybe it was the righteous part of you that wanted to be pure and good–because she was somewhat of a scammer. But her methods had her eating well every night. She was always at the bar, drinking and having fun. Gambling, all of it. You hated to admit it, but you often found yourself jealous of her. 

Not just the scheming way of lining her pockets, but also her mechanical talents. She was definitely gifted in her trade, and she had loyal customers from all over. All of which could be possible clients of yours, but would never set foot in your shop because of her. Sometimes you thought she tried to spoil your name so everyone would come to her–a rotten way to get rotten business. 

Day by day, you watched ship after ship land and leave her hangar. It angered you. Stars , it really pissed you off. 

That is, until one day, she actually sends someone right to you.

It was incredibly muggy that day, you remember. Your hair stayed damp, sticking to your cheeks and neck. Your clothes clung to your body uncomfortably. Sweat rolled down your skin constantly all day. At some point, you wished you could walk around butt-ass-naked . Anything to escape the heat at this point. You wanted to rip your shirt and pants off to cool down. Even for a little while. 

You sat atop an old project speeder bike in the corner of your shop. Some sunshine was able to come through missing pieces in the makeshift metal roof. Part of your shop was a building with one wall knocked down. You kept your personal belongings there. The other half of your shop was relatively open space. The roof was held together by pieces of metal you had found here and there. Most of it was rusted, and broken. Hence the big ray of sunshine that's beaming down on you right now. The floor on the open side of your shop was nonexistent. It was the raw, sandy ground. The floor leading into the closed part of your shop was tile you had laid down a while back. Something to walk on other than the sandy floor. 

You tried covering up the brick walls of your shop with old blankets to give it a more 'homey' feel. You thought it may make your customers feel more at ease when they were around. When you had customers.

The speeder was a side project of yours that was slowly becoming your only project. You had always dreamt of owning a speeder for recreation. So, you bought a scrap, hollow shell of one a few years back to work on and restore for yourself. Sadly though, it was now becoming your survival project. You needed to sell it to feed yourself. 

Red hued safety glasses shield your eyes from hot sparks that fly up from the soldering iron in your hands. Your fingers glide delicately over the sensitive wires in the ignition chamber of the speeder's engine bay. You’re sitting on the warm leather seat; the top half of your body hunched over in what you can only refer to as a “gremlin looking” position. It should hurt your back, but you were used to it by now. The long term effects lost on you for the time being. The only thing on your mind was getting this machine running so you could sell it and fill your cooling chamber. 

Sweat glistens your face, neck and exposed chest as the hot Tatooine suns beam down on you. You have a bottle of water next to you on the ground in case you start to get nauseated. Which happens more frequently than not on this maker forsaken planet. 

You reach up to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead with your arm. The heat from the surrounding areas combined with what radiated off the molten wires in front of you was taking a toll on your physical state. Maybe not the best day to do this. One of the hottest reported days in the planet’s history. 

You sigh through chapped lips, deciding against starting the next bundle of wires. You lean down, gripping the water bottle with what little strength you had left to bring it up to your lips. You chug, sucking down the entire sixteen ounce bottle in one thirsty gulp. Despite the painfully hot air surrounding you, your water managed to stay relatively cool in the shade of your bike. The liquid runs cool down your throat; coating it in sweet relief for a few moments before you feel it hit the inside of your belly. 

You sigh again, sitting up straight on the bike’s seat. You let your head fall back on your shoulders and you close your eyes, resting them for a few moments. Your arms fall limp to your sides, your thighs straddling each side of the hot speeder. The sun beams down on your skin and you can feel the burn starting up again. The red safety glasses also help to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Your shop is far enough outside of the main streets that you don’t get all of the city noise, thankfully. Most days, you can sit here and just listen to the quiet noises of the sand and wind. It was relaxing sometimes, and deafening the other times. 

So, you sat there for a few minutes. Head back, posture relaxed. Just enjoying the silence for a while. 

After a few more minutes, you heard the distinct sound of the main shop door opening. The door was large and made of very flimsy durasteel. The sound of that loud wobbling paired with durasteel scraping on the sand surface was something you didn’t hear very often anymore. This was all followed by heavy footsteps; leather boots clumping lazily over the ground. A large man crested around the corner, looking down at you sitting on your bike. 

You glance over at him. He appears human, his whole body brandished with expensive looking weapons. He had short cut hair, blonde in color. His eyes were blue. His skin was pale and freckled. He wore a black leather jacket on top of a black tank top. Both were dirty, and he didn’t seem to care. 

A grin spread across his face and chills immediately shot down your spine. Your back stiffened as the large man began sauntering in your direction before he came to a halt in front of you. His thumbs hook in the pockets of his pants on either side. 

He nods arrogantly before finally speaking to you. 

“They told me a pretty little lady ran this shop. I dn’t believe em.” His accent is unfamiliar to you, his words almost slurring together. Or is he drunk? 

He licks his lips once and smiles down at you. His teeth are dirty and unkempt. 

You cough and shift away from him, swinging your leg over the other side of the speeder. You take a couple steps back from him, but not too many. As to not set any red flags off in the man's head. Your hand reaches up to push the red glasses onto the top of your head. You squint when the sun hits your sensitive hues. After pushing your glasses up, your hands slide back down to your waist and lock onto your hips. 

Usually with these types of guys, you choose a more aggressive approach. You would immediately tell them to get lost, or chase them out. But, something is different about this one. He seems…off. Unhinged, maybe? Something about his demeanor screams at you. You’re uneasy. 

You’re playing it safe this time. Just…see what he has to say. 

“Guess I’m that lady,” You say sweetly, a very fake smile cresting your cheeks. You pretend to be busy, shifting around to pick up some useless spare parts hanging around. “How can I help you?” 

His breathing is a little heavy, you notice. And that scares you. That hints at something unstable within him. 

He takes his hands from his pockets and flattens his palms on the fabric, rubbing them up and down to dry them of the sweat he’s exuding on this hot day. He grins again and shifts to follow you when you opt to start walking into the shaded part of your shop. 

“Need a piece of equipment fixed.” He says plainly, directly behind you. 

There’s a tall, bar-like table to the left of your shaded space. Behind the bar-esque table is storage for your customers' weapons. You walk behind the bar, and he follows around to face you from the other side. Thank the maker. Breathing room. 

“What kind of equipment?” You ask innocently. 

The man reaches behind him and pulls a large rifle from his back. He drops it down on the counter in front of you. 

You grab it softly, pulling it closer. Your fingers wrap around each end to bring it up for a better view. A knot is tightening in your gut. As you thought; an illegal weapon. Again. This one in particular is especially heinous. 

A T7 Ion Disruptor. A rifle banned by the New Republic. 

You clear your throat, slowly setting the weapon back down on the table in front of you. You glance up at the man through your lashes. He’s still grinning at you, shifting weirdly on his feet. Back and forth. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t work on this.” You say, slowly pushing the rifle back towards the man. 

You know there’s trouble when he stops shifting from side to side, and his grin slowly fades. He huffs, slapping his hands back down onto the weapon and pushing it back to your side of the counter. 

“I’ll pay ya, No questions asked.” He says, his blood shot eyes boring into your face. 

Your heart is starting to race, goosebumps covering the skin of your arms as the situation slowly starts to escalate. You’ve seen this desperate type of behavior before. Especially here. Especially now. The spice coming into town has corrupted many people here. The crime syndicates were always looking for better weapons. But they would only buy if the weapons were in working condition. Addicts would find these illegal rifles and bring them to you, desperate to have them fixed so they could go sell them to the syndicates. All to get their next week's fix of drugs. You feel for these people, you really do. This is a way of life for them. This is how they survive. You wish you could help, but you can’t put yourself under the radar of any crime syndicate. 

“--’m sorry. I can’t. This rifle is banned by the New Republic.” You say softly, pushing the rifle back towards the man. 

His breathing has increased; it’s loud and almost rabid now. He’s sweating and twitching. He stands there for a moment, staring at you. And without any notice, he violently slams both hands down on the table and shoves the rifle at you. It hits your lower stomach. Your heart drops into your belly. 

“I don’t care if it’s fuckin’ banned by the New Republic. I need it fixed–” He says, leaning over the counter. His hot breath is fanning your face as he grunts. “ Now .” 

He’s huffing heavily through his nostrils. Sweat is dripping down his cheeks and dropping on the weapon below him. His fingers are twitching on the wood countertop, and his eyes are wide. They’re bulging out of his head, red and bloodshot. The skin around his eyes is dark and almost hollow. 

You let a soft, shaky breath escape your lips as you struggle to find the courage or words to confront him. And he doesn’t move, doesn’t give you a chance to respond. He just…waits. 

You’ve experienced men like him before, but never this violent. Most men that came in here were trying to get a rise out of you. Always something to say. They always thought they could take advantage of you; overpower you. But you pride yourself on your courage and cunning. You never let them get to you. 

This was different, though. This man is explosively violent and unstable. 

He’s desperate . That scares you the most. 

You struggle to find words as fear settles into your skin. Your hands drop below the counter to a shelf underneath. He doesn’t notice, as he has his eyes fixed on yours. Your nimble fingers begin to wrap themselves around an emergency blaster you have hung under the counter.

Finally, as your fingers secure defense, you muster the courage to speak. 

“I can’t ,” You exhale slowly, finger tightening on the trigger of the blaster. 

The man exhales hard, fingernails starting to scratch into the wood surface below his palms. He leans up slightly, letting his chest have room to inhale so he can speak. 

“ You little bitch ,” He starts, but he’s cut off. 

“Is there a problem here?” An unfamiliar voice rings in. It’s modulated, almost like it came from a droid. 

It startles the both of you. In unison, the two of you shoot your heads in the direction of where the voice came from. 

In the entrance of your shop stands another man, and your heart sinks even more. 

He’s tall and covered in armor. The armor is all different colors, worn and damaged from much use it seems. He also has weapons brandished all over his body. He has brown boots on, strapped with bombs of all kinds. He has a dark brown flight suit underneath. Every important part of his body is covered by the worn armor. 

When you get to his head, you immediately recognize what he is. 

A Mandalorian. A distinct helmet. 

He stands tall and confident. He has broad shoulders, and large arms. 

Your fingers are still locked on the trigger of your blaster as you struggle to tear your eyes from the Mandalorian standing in your doorway. 

The man in front of you grunts and shifts to stand up to his full height. He shuffles before turning back to look at you. 

“I’m almost done with her,” he starts, before shooting around the left side of the counter at you. As he’s coming around, he’s speaking. “ You can have her when I’m done .” He growls out, sweaty and vicious hands grabbing for you as he breeches the left side of the counter. He’s moving so fast it’s hard for you to process. You don’t fully register what’s going on, not really. All you can see is his large, looming figure coming at you at lightspeed. All you can hear are the quick shuffling of his feet and he charges you. 

Instinctually, you bring the blaster out from under the counter and point it towards him as he charges you. 

But as soon as you brought the blaster out, the man was shot down. A red beam of plasma blasts past and so close to your head the wind gust from it causes your hair to fly up and over your head. 

Not a sound comes from the man as he falls to the ground. He thuds loudly, loose limbs hitting the ground after his back. You’re still holding the blaster up in defense, almost like you’re stuck there. Your heart is racing out of your chest and your breathing is slightly elevated. It takes you a few seconds to fully register what just happened. You finally let your arms drop slowly. 

You look down at the blaster in your hands, watching your trembling fingers grip the cold durasteel. Your skin is white from gripping the weapon so hard. Your head is dropped, preoccupied, as the Mandalorian slowly approaches the counter. 

“Are you alright?” The man asks softly. 

It startles you out of your stupor and you look up, seeing the Mandalorians’ hulking figure standing in front of you. He’s even bigger when he’s up close. 

You softly set the blaster back in its place under the counter and look up at the Mandalorian. 

“Yeah...” You mutter softly, confusion evident in your tone. You look down at the dead man on your floor. “ Maker. ..why would he just…?” 

“Exactly why you think.” The Mandalorian speaks. His voice is deep and weathered through the vocoder. 

You glance up at him, eyes searching the T-visor of his Beskar helmet. 

“Apologies. I heard the whole thing.” He says. 

You look from the Mandalorian in front of you, back to the body on your floor once again. You stare at it as you speak. 

“Another victim of spice addiction.” You say softly, your tone caressed by a tinge of sadness.

The Mandalorian silently nods his head, his hands coming down to grip the buckle on his belt. 

After a few moments, you can hear him shift, grabbing ahold of the Ion Disruptor on the counter. You turn to look back at him and watch as he examines the weapon with diligence. His helmet tilts with the weapon, and his gloved fingers glide delicately over the durasteel. 

“Could I take this off your hands?” he asks after a few moments of examining the weapon. 

“ Please take it.” You say, a soft smile on your cheeks. 

His helmet turns to look over you for a few seconds, like he’s examining you now. 

“How much?” He asks. 

“It’s yours. No charge.” You say, letting your hands rest on the counter. Your blood is starting to cool, and you’re not trembling anymore. 

He looks down at you again and nods, throwing the heavy weapon behind him to sit with some of his others.  “Thank you.” 

You can’t help the cheeky smile that crosses your face. Your cheeks start to burn. You shift to cross your arms over your chest. “Any particular reason you ventured into my shop, Mandalorian?” 

He nods. “I could use your help repairing something.” He says, reaching into a bag on his side. He pulls out a hyperdrive ignition key and gently sets it on the table. He shifts his hips to lean on the other side. “Peli Motto told me you’re good with old ships.” 

“Peli Motto? She sent you to me ?” You ask, astonished at the man's words as you lean down to get a better look at the hyperdrive part. 

“Not a friend of yours?” He asks, watching you examine the part. 

You huff. “Not exactly.” You say nonchalantly, sliding your fingers over the delicate part. “She couldn’t help you?” 

“No. She said you’re pretty well versed with electrical failures. On older ships.” 

You glance up at him for a moment and chuckle. “Interesting.” 

“Don’t usually get referrals from her, I take it?” 

“Never. She’s the reason I never have business, if I’m honest.” You say softly, leaning back up and putting your hands on your hips.

He cocks his head to the side gently and watches you. 

His gaze is deep, and silent, as he watches you. You find yourself fidgeting with the hem on your hips. 

“I..uh, can fix this. Easy. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour.” 

He nods, and you take that as your que to get to work. 

It takes you forty three minutes, actually. One of the quickest jobs you've had in a while. It was a relatively easy fix. The Mandalorian stood and watched you the entire time, intrigued by your knowledge of the machinery. 

"Razor Crest, right?" You ask.

"Yes. How can you tell?" 

"This hyperdrive ignition design was used on most pre-imperial ships. But, this one has a significant trait that ties it to the Razor Crest, and the Razor Crest alone ," you say, using a finger to draw him in close by pointing down at the part. 

"This is air cooled. See the little chamber here?" You ask, pointing to a small, empty glass chamber in the middle of the device. "Like any other part on a ship, this can get hot. So it's got a pocket of air that feeds directly into the ignition pump, that sends fuel to the thrusters."

He watches you. 

"The Razor Crest was the first and last ship ever to have a glass chamber for the hyperdrive ignitions. Afterwards, they were all Durasteel chambers. Easier, cheaper. The glass chambers had so many issues with cracking and leaks, that they immediately discontinued the design. And went for something more durable."

He watches as you slowly pull out the glass chamber and set it aside. 

"We'll replace the glass with some durasteel, and you'll be all good to go." You say with a soft smile. 

The Mandalorian stands over you, continuing to watch in silence as you make a small durasteel chamber by hand, and fit it to the hyperdrive ignition. 

"You're very knowledgeable." He speaks, his voice low and scratchy. 

You glance up at his visor for a moment and shoot him a quick smile before looking back down at your work.

"I'd hope so, otherwise I'm in the wrong profession." 

A loud click indicates that the durasteel piece is back in place. You gently slide it towards him once you do your final examination. 

"You're all set." You say with a smile, hands resting on the counter in front of you. 

It's dark out now. A small bit of moonlight shining in through the holes in your makeshift roof. Fairy lights and small cantina lamps light the space around you, painting everything in a soothing orange hue. 

The Mandalorian gently grabs the part from your counter and slips it into his satchel. 

"What do I owe you?" He asks. 

You think about it for a moment; hard. And then you glance over at the lifeless body of the attacker on your floor. 

"Nothing." You say, still staring at the body. 

He pauses, seemingly confused. "I don't understand." 

"No charge today.” You say, looking back up at him and nodding towards the body–hinting.

He takes a deep breath in, this chest rising steadily as he shifts on his feet again.

You offer him another warm smile. “A token of my gratitude.”

His chest falls after a few moments and his helmet turns to look around your shop. He hadn’t had time to until now.

"Your kindness will not be forgotten." He speaks gently. 

You smile. "Nor will yours, Mandalorian. Safe travels." 

He stands there for a few moments longer than you anticipated, almost like he's thinking. Then he nods and turns to slowly make his way out of your shop. 

You thought that would be the last time you saw him. You were wrong.

It was probably a month later when he came back. 

It was another hot day. You chose to take the day off, this time. You sat in your bedroom which was closed off from the rest of the building by a large blanket hanging in the doorway. Your room looked like every other building on Tatooine. The walls were crafted of sandy colored pourstone, rounding at the top. A large window on the left lets in plenty of natural sunlight to illuminate the room. There’s just enough space for your bed. You keep a small, single person table and chair directly under the window, where you sit and eat your breakfast every morning. 

You’re sitting under the window drinking some caf when you hear the door to your shop open. You stop what you’re doing and listen to see if the person approaches your counter. Heavy footsteps lead directly to the enclosed part of your shop. Quickly, you set your cup of caf down and shuffle to meet the customer out in the open area. 

When you shove the blanket out of your way, you’re surprised to see the same Mandalorian from a month earlier standing in your workshop. His appearance is different though. Before, he only had the Beskar helmet. The rest of his armor was pretty old and worn. But today, he appears to you in nothing but pure Beskar armor. From head to toe. He looks clean, and well put together. Shiny.

You rub your hands together and smile softly as you approach him. His helmet follows you as you walk over on the other side of the counter. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again.” You say softly. 

The Mandalorian nods, his hands looped in the buckle of his belt like the last time you saw him.

"What brings you back, Mando?” You ask. The nickname slips, but it suits him. 

“Are you looking for work?” He says, his voice smooth through the vocoder. 

You tilt your head to the side a little, slightly confused. “Pardon?” 

“I could use your help,” He starts, his hands coming up to rest on the counter top. “...maintaining my ship and…” he starts, but trails off and he reaches behind himself to shift his shoulder bag to the front. When he does, he lifts the cover to reveal something extraordinary to you. “..with this.” 

He reveals a small, green baby. It’s wrinkled, and has pointed ears. Big brown eyes look up at you in wonder as your mouth gapes. It coos softly, tilting its head to one side as it observes you. 

“ Stars ….what the hell is that?” You stutter over your words as you lean down to gently pull the baby from the satchel. It coos again, happily, as you pick it up. 

“I've been bequested to bring him back to his kind.” Says the Mandalorian. 

“H-how did this happen?” You ask, eyes focused on the little green baby in front of you as his claws grip your hands on either side. 

“It’s a long story,” He starts, watching you observe the baby carefully. “I can’t watch him and I need to continue hunting to fund this quest,” He says softly.

You glance up at him for a moment. “And you…came to me? Why?” 

“He needs supervision, I can’t leave him alone.” He swiftly bounces around the why part of your question.

You look from him, back down at the baby. The baby watches you with wide, curious brown hues. His mouth gapes open so show small, jagged teeth underneath. One of his hands comes up to touch your chin softly. 

There's an odd feeling that comes over you when he makes those little noises. The way he seems to smile, and immediately warm up to you. 

“I can pay you handsomely.” The Mandalorian speaks after a few minutes of silence. 

You glance back up at Mando through your lashes, he’s closer now than he was before. You’re slowly cuddling the green child into your chest as he seems to settle right into your warmth. One arm is under his bottom, and the other is behind his back to hold him firm against you. 

You start to say something, but no words come out. A breath of air sneaks through as you lock onto his T-visor. 

You shake your head, looking back down at the child. “M-my shop? How will…? I can’t just leave..?” You mumble out. 

“Peli agreed to look over it,” Mando says. 

You look back up at him once again, softly rubbing your hand over the baby’s back. 

“Peli ? Now I'm confused.” 

“She proposed using it for storage.” 

You click your tongue, looking down at the child as he lays comfortably against your chest. “Of course she did.” 

“You’ll have plenty to keep you busy aside from the child. My ship is old,” He says, his tone softening. A gentle approach. “...it always needs work.” 

You look up at Mando for what feels like the hundredth time. He stands tall over you, his broad shoulders blocking the sunlight behind him. His posture is serious; stern. This is important to him. You find your eyes needlessly searching for him under the T-visor, though you know you’d never find him. 

“Okay…” You speak softly, just under your breath. Almost like you didn’t mean to say it. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his shoulders slouching a bit; relaxing. 

“Yeah, okay.” You say again, this time it was louder. Like you were reaffirming it. Like you needed to hear your own voice to register you had just agreed. The baby in your arms coos softly in your warmth. 

The Mandalorian nods, clearing his throat softly. “Thank you.” 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was nervous. You tell by the softness in his tone; a stark difference from what you had heard before. He was out of his comfort zone here, dealing with a child. You understood why he came to you now. He was familiar with you, and trusted you wouldn’t turn him down. He just needs help and guidance in this uncertain time for him. 

“I’ll go grab a bag.” You say softly, looking down at the baby in your arms. 

As you walk through the blanket that covers your private quarters, Mando can hear you whispering to the child in your arms. “ Wanna come with me, sweet boy? ” Your tone is soft and motherly, unlike what he had heard when you were dealing with that spice addict a month ago. 

When he saw the look in your eyes at the sight of the child, he knew he had made the right decision coming to you.

‐-------

Chapter theme: With Love From - Aly & AJ

[thearoacespark]

happy pride month everyone <3 is the bot chaos still goin on in the ace tag?

okay originally this blog was gonna be silly and I was just gonna start ocposting right away but! Then I fell down a completely different rabbit hole.

so yeah! I found myself super curious about how the research world viewed people like me! But also, I thought it could be a nice idea to make posts documenting my journey reading through these papers, in a more accessible manner like this to share the knowledge <3 There are already some interesting and important topics I have in mind to explore! Though the most material is on asexuality, there were a few on aromanticism and even a wider spectrum, including demisexuality and others!! Was very nice to see!

FULL DISCLAIMER: I’m by no means an expert on ANYTHING here, although I have a couple beginner research experiences under my belt + I am currently studying cognitive science as my major, so some of my coursework is applicable here. Also, I won’t necessarily agree or endorse every point or conclusion that the papers make, but in my view it never hurts to see what information and data is out there!

If you wanna see more posts about this, I’ll be posting it under the the sparks-acespec-research tag. Also, this is a sideblog, so if you follow, I might not always follow back right away since it gets confusing with the main blogs and the side blogs….

If there are any topics you’re especially interested in, please drop an ask and I may or may not be inspired to look for stuff mentioning that!

[apoemformythoughts]

Happy last day of pride month! I just wanted to sum up what this month means to me as it comes to a close.

To understand what June means to me, I should probably first state my relationship with the LGBTQ community. I am someone who spent years struggling to find an identity that “fit”. Eventually, I realized I am happiest unlabeled. I like being able to explain the aspects of myself that I have analyzed to oblivion and feel too complex to be just one term. I do not care if people call me a straight man, an asexual woman, a nonbinary lesbian, or any combination of terms in the world. If you hear my description of my identity and pick a label for me, even if I do not agree with it I am still happy you heard me out and tried to understand me to the best of your ability.

You might think that I don’t belong in the LGBTQ community if I don’t identify with any queer labels but I present you with this: if I also don’t identify with any cisgender or heterosexual labels, where do I belong in this world? Nowhere? If gender and sexuality are both on spectrums, where do the people who acknowledge the existence of the spectrum within themselves belong? To me, the LGBTQ community is for people whose identities do not conform with being cisgender and/or heterosexual, and I can assure you that my identity is not that of a cishet woman in denial.

With all of that background out of the way, I feel slightly more comfortable speaking on what pride month means to me. Pride month, in the simplest terms possible, is a time to celebrate what makes your identity “unconventional”, specifically in relation to gender and sexuality. It’s a period where the LGBTQ community can unite under the idea of being proud of their queerness, whether it be being trans or gay or aromantic or bisexual or genderfluid or anything in between. I love pride month. I love seeing flags everywhere and videos of parades and just the joy and love radiating off of everyone’s faces. Pride month is a time to be unashamed of who you love. It really doesn’t matter whether the person you love is a romantic partner you’ve known for decades or a friend you met five minutes ago. Pride month is about sharing who you are with those who are important to you on a personal level, and with the world on a group level. It’s about being honest with the people you love, but also showing those who may be struggling with their identity or in places that may not be as accepting that they are not alone and that it’s okay to be “different”. It sounds reporterish and stereotypical to say that it’s powerful, but it is genuinely moving to see so many people unite under those two words- pride month- to celebrate what makes them different rather than what they have in common.

In conclusion, all I really wanted to say is pride month is a beautiful way to unite with people, whether it be parents, lovers, friends, neighbors, or even strangers on the internet. I hope that someday every LGBTQ person in the world will have at least one person to celebrate their identity with during pride month.

P.S. congratulations to Thailand for being the first Southeast Asian country to pass a bill to legalize same-sex marriage. I am sure this June will be a pride month the people of Thailand will never forget. Hopefully many more countries in Southeast Asia and around the world will follow suit soon.

[ilovedthestars]

it's the first aro visibility day, ever! It's also my first pride month where I consider myself to be part of the aro community. there's something about that that I find very satisfying, almost comforting. this is new for me, but in some ways it's new for all of us. it's nice to feel like i'm not figuring myself out all alone.

i already did questioning round 1, back in middle and early high school, and came to the conclusion that I was queer (i used queer to describe myself more often than gay or lesbian, but that was the kind of queer that i meant.) i figured out that i thought girls were really pretty, and couldn't really see myself ending up with a guy, and could sort of see myself dating a girl someday, and once I got that figured out I thought I was mostly done. orientation solved, check! just in time to join the high school QSA and wear rainbows during june and joke with my friends about how everyone we knew was queer.

in retrospect, i definitely sort of knew that there was more going on, even when i went thru that first round of questioning. i learned about aspec identities in middle school, via the internet. i distinctly remember a late-night text conversation with a friend in which i told her I thought I might be demisexual (i think my own sexual and romantic orientations were tied together in my mind at the time, and still sort of are, although it's more complicated now.) I was maybe twelve years old, and had never had a crush, and had stumbled upon some words that maybe explained why I wasn't even sure what a crush would feel like. My friend pointed out that lots of people don't have crushes until they're older, and it didn't necessarily have to mean i was aspec. I don't begrudge her this--at the time it was comforting to hear. I think I sort of put the idea away on a "more data required" basis, and didn't think hard about it for years.

it wasn't until within the last six months or so that I started seriously thinking about the possibility that i might be aspec again. i found a fandom community that was full of proud aspec people, and conversations with them started to ring some bells. I read Angela Chen's Ace, which also described some experiences that clicked with me. it occurred to me that while girls are pretty, and the abstract idea of a romantic relationship sounds like it could be fun, i still have yet to actually think "i want to date this specific person." it's always been a pure hypothetical, maybe-one-day thing. i started to think--okay, so maybe i might be some kind of aro or ace. possibly. perhaps.

so now i'm still deep in the quagmire of questioning round 2, trying to fit together "girls are pretty" and "i think would hypothetically date someone" and "i don't actually know if i've ever felt romantic attraction in my life" into something that I can understand. i still feel weird about calling myself aro--i don't feel like I'm certain yet. i think i'm just starting to get to a place where i feel comfortable saying that i'm somewhere on the a-spectrums. but i'm really grateful have found a community where I feel like I can be uncertain and still be included. thanks to the people who have helped me down this road so far--you know who you are, and i love you.

happy aromantic visibility day, and happy pride, to all the aros (and possibly-aros, and maybe??? aros, and i-think-i-might-be-aro-but-i'm-not-sures) out there 💜

[zanygamer25]

I am asexual

cw: aphobia, purity culture, slut shaming, objectification, meandering rent

So many people tell me “I can’t possibly be” for this that or the other reason and honestly this pride month I’m putting my foot down and saying I’m fucking tired of hearing that.

I was told as a child I was dressing immodestly, in a baggy t shirt and jeans. It had nothing to do with my clothes, it was always about my body itself being a source of shame and sin. I was told maybe boys wouldn’t pick on me if I didn’t flaunt my developing breasts so much, as an elementary schooler, according to a male teacher older than my father. Another child’s mom looked down at me, her eyes roamed over my body in my damp sundress after running through sprinklers and said “I would never let my daughter dress like a slut.” I wasn’t being sexual, I didn’t think of sex. But I was a slut. I was a child, in a child’s body, who needed to cover up more for inciting sexual thoughts and sexual anger in adults. I was impure before I knew what sex was. A prelude of attitudes to come.

I am asexual and I was told at church I would have to have sex whenever and however my future husband wanted or else I’d be a bad wife. I said I didn’t want to marry or have children and was laughed at, I’d be a great wife and mother, just look at my hips, my chest. Things that had nothing to do with my own desires, I was a consumable good that was up to par. My desires didn’t matter. I would meet someone and get married, and it was impossible that I didn’t. I “needed” a husband after all, regardless of my desires.

I am asexual and when I came out to someone last week. He responds “if you didn’t have… this… would you hook up with me?” He can’t even type the word asexual back to me, it’s too horrifying to him. It’s too much. I’ve heard this a lot before. If I didn’t have “this” he alludes to it like it’s an illness that can’t be spoken about. I ask him if he means my sexuality. He says “yes, I wish you weren’t like this.” If I didn’t have my sexuality, if I was a fundamentally different person who looked the same, he would be happy. If from the time I was 5 years old proclaiming my best friend as my “crush” in my limited understanding of romance that would never align exactly with the definition everyone else used. My exploration of relationships, my conclusions for myself. If you could wipe off my entire life and take the shell left behind once you ripped out my inner self, you’d be happy using it to pleasure yourself. never mind about what I want. It’s such a tragedy for you that I’m asexual. It’s a scene that’s played out a dozen or more times since I became an adult.

I hate him in one second after weeks of amicable chatting and gaming as friends. It poisons everything, I wish you weren’t like this.

my extended family asks me about marriage and children. I’ll find someone, I have to. I need to. I don’t want children or a husband. I have to. I need to. I wish you weren’t like this. My doctor asks if I’m sexually active and gives me a pregnancy test before examining even though I’ve never in my life had sex and tell her as much. I must be lying. I have to be. Everyone “needs” sex. My coworkers ask me why I’m not married. I need to be, according to them. My therapist says I’m single because of my anxiety around relationships, as my anxiety lessens over time I’m more and more certain I’m asexual, maybe even aromantic, but I can’t be. “You shouldn’t be like this.”

Never mind what I want. What I know. I’m asexual, get over it.

[haze-of-hyperfixations]

Hi! 👋 Do you have any lgbt+ hcs for asoue or atwq? 🌈 :)

Hi! 👋

Thanks for the ask!! Here's some of my headcanons:

ASOUE:

Violet - bi. also i think it'd be funny if she had crushes on both Isadora and Quigley, and made some comment about "hey, maybe i have a type. or something." meanwhile her siblings are like. violet. they are identical.

Carmelita - aro. doesn't realize this until way after canon (assuming the entire unfortunate gen survives for the sake of both the post and my feelings) because she genuinely never considers that romantic attraction is like. a real thing. she thinks everyone's just being weird about dating because they're just weird like that. and she's totally better than them anyways, so she doesn't really give it any more thought for a while. she basically avoids the entire self-questioning stage like that, and it isn't until a while after canon, once she's kind of had a redemption arc and kind of formed some kind of connection with other characters, that she's just arguing with someone one day about something to do with romance, and the other character is like. uh. actually that's not universal and i think you might be aro. and she kind of has to process that for a few minutes. but she ends up basically going "oh, so it's not everyone? it's just me? that's awesome." also modern AU Carmelita would make those posts that are like, pink hearts and sparkly, elegant cursive saying stuff like "romance is dead and i killed it." (i just googled it, it's called aro lovecore.) anyways, post-canon aro Carmelita. :)

Isadora - trans girl. and she's unsure of her specific orientation, but knows she definitely likes girls.

Quigley - ace. questioning both gender and romantic orientation, but probably somewhere under the nonbinary umbrella. and possibly bi. listen just let the kid figure stuff out post-canon. where's that post that goes "i'm probably nonbinary but i have a job so idc about that right now". that's Quigley but the job is not dying and processing childhood trauma.

Sunny - post-canon, older Sunny also gets hit by the aro headcanon beam. i just think it'd be really neat.

not a lot of thoughts on the sugarbowl gen, except possibly pan Beatrice Baudelaire and aro Sally Sebald? idk, I think about the unfortunate gen a lot more, ha.

ATWQ:

Moxie - possibly arospec? okay, admittedly i just thought of this headcanon now. but arospec Moxie would add an interesting layer to her dynamic with Ellington and Lemony. especially if you interpret the Lemony/Ellington as onesided, with Lemony being the one with the romantic feelings. because like. platonic jealousy over your best friend's crush (who doesn't reciprocate, but maybe she does, but who even cares? not Moxie.) is an interesting dynamic. because Ellington Feint contrasts her in a thousand narrative, thematical ways that other people could write about better than me. but Lemony's also kind of infatuated with her, and she gets that slightly romanticized place in his narrative that Moxie doesn't. and of course that could lead to additional resentment. and some of it's jealousy, some of it's anxiety, some of it's frustration, but the whole thing could lead to really interesting internal conflict. especially after Lemony leaves, and the other kids have to figure out a new sense of normal after all that. idk. interesting thought.

Ellington - lesbian. also just thought of that one now, so idk. but i've been kind of on the fence for a while about the Lemony/Ellington thing and all it's ambiguity. my current headcanon is that it was onesided on Lemony's side, and that Ellington didn't have any romantic feelings for him. and i need to reread the books, i love them so much and it's been a little while, but yeah, Ellington being gay is a neat concept, i think.

in conclusion, i think basically all of these characters are Very Much Not Straight, but the ones listed were just the first ones i could think of!

thanks again for the ask!! have a great day, and happy pride month!! :)

[pinkydoggy83]

🏳️‍🌈💐 — Happy Pride yall!

Working on updating my persona.

📎 Info about bigender and previous years’ pride art below:

Hey there!

Thought I would share some information about bigender and my personal experience because there’s not a lot of posts about bigender and I think the label is pretty neat!

————————————

What is Bigender?

Bigender is when a person experiences two or more genders either in combination or switching between the genders. It falls under the gender-nonconforming/trans umbrella.

Now you can be two or more sets of any gender in the spectrum.

For example: You can be mas/fem or nonbinary/fem or nonbinary/mas etc!

Why do I identify as bigender?

(Remember this is just my own experience and everyone who’s bigender has their own experience/reason!)

Short answer: I experience a smaller gender spectrum and identify as mas/fem only.

Long answer: Unlike genderfluid (which typically means you experience a wider gender spectrum), I only experience feeling masculine and feminine. Never really anything in between or outside. So I use the bigender label to specify that I switch between two distinct gender. I like how bigender is more specific and I’m more comfortable with it.

If I use genderfluid, I feel like I’m overwhelmed in a huge room to move around in while bigender is a perfectly size room I can move enough in. (That’s the only way I can really describe it 🤷)

What’s the flag?

There’s two popular versions. The one with a yellow stripe (middle) and the one without (right). The one on the left I won’t be covering. Just know it’s the old one that’s considered controversial.

The middle flag, as I seen around, can be seen to represent just bigender overall or for the non-binary spectrum

The right flag can be seen to represent just bigender overall too or mas/fem spectrum. I personally like this one to represent my experience.

There’s really no agreed rule so don’t feel like you have to choose one to “fit the box”. Just use whatever makes you feel comfortable.

Conclusion

If you actually read this all, thank you! I wanted to celebrate a bit of Pride Month by making this post.

This is just a small introduction of what bigender means and I highly recommend doing your own research or hear other folks’ story. Remember you can label with whatever fits or label not at all!

I don’t think the bigender label is hard to understand but if I got something wrong feel free to say. Be safe out there!

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi!

I'm a writer, and at the moment I'm working on a rewrite of an old original story of mine, after realising that ~none~ of ny characters were anywhere near as allocishet as they were in my first draft.

I have a character who's identity I've had to work hard to understand but I've come to the conclusion that he's genderfluid, and while wondering how to accurately portray that experience - which is not my own - I stumbled across one of your posts and figured I may as well ask for some advice?

In particular I'm wondering - well, about the experience in general, I'm fairly ignorant so please if I say anything offensive please let me know and I apologise in advance, it's not intentional.

So anyway that sentence went off the rails - how often do you feel as though you 'change' gender - is it like 'oh, hang on, I feel masculine now' or...some other experience?

In my book, it's a fantasy world where they don't really have the language to talk about it properly (this shall be rectified as part of the plot).

Also just...anything else you think I should know to write an accurate and respectful portrayal of a genderfluid experience?

Anyway I apologise for all my rambling, have a great day and happy pride month 😊

Hi! <3 Happy pride month!

Well, first just a reminder that everyone's experience is different, so my answers may not resonate with another genderfluid person.

But personally, my feelings about my gender tend to fluctuate in small ways daily, and in larger ways over a larger time span. Meaning, one day I might be feeling more masculine and like a boy while the next day I might dress femme and feel girly. I tend to have weeks at a time, though, where I feel better or worse about like...mental dysphoria, I guess? Like some weeks, I question myself and wonder if I'm faking it, and if I'm just a girl who's being stupid and wants attention, and other weeks, I'm like...what if I'm trans? And I've come to realize that's because I'm genderfluid, and my relationship with my gender changes.

I think the important thing to show, at least for me, is that feeling of questioning. Because my gender fluctuates, I feel like I'm gaslighting myself sometimes. It's a struggle, and it makes me unsure of myself. Your character might use different pronouns, express their gender in different ways, or use different terms for who they are, but I think that fluctuating feeling is important.

I hope that helps!

[naradivision]

Happy Pride Month!

I saw many divisions making a post to explain their characters’ romantic and sexual orientations in this month last year (and also this year), so I kinda want to follow suits even if it turns out to be this late (´∀｀；)

To be honest; although I’ve spent quite a time doing some research, I’m still not so sure about them! Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy my assumptions and my greatest apologies if I unintentionally offend someone.

—Yuuya

Heteroromantic Demisexual 

Despite being a good friend towards any gender across the spectrum, Yuuya has pondered over his feelings multiple times before coming to the conclusion that he can only see romantic potential in the opposite gender. Thus, he doubts it may stem from his strong attachment towards his big sis and his mother in his childhood.

And although he is certain of never looking at his older sister in any sense of romantic way, he still couldn’t shake off the fact that it’s a high chance he might definitely pursue for her semblance in his significant other —That’s also a part of many reasons why he has shied away from dating unless he could get over his own complex soon. Besides; the idea of getting attached to someone again scares him a bit. He’d always be happy to help his friends get together-together though.

On matters of sex; even if he knows the basics from various sources, he isn’t so enthusiastic about it as others around his age. He has yet to engage in one as well. To him, establishing the mutual understanding is a must before delving into another level of intimacy. Yes, kinda old-fashioned but he wants to ensure his relationship is going to be in the long run so that’s it.

—Asahi

Panromantic Questioning 

Asahi loves any topic about romance and everyone knows it! He may be a bit clueless but he is definitely a curious soul who is highly interested in meeting new people and likes exploring their perspectives about love. 

However, his impression on romance is likely to be through a rose-colored lens than the realistic way owing to many novels and manga he has read. He also has never been in any relationship before. Right now he seems to enjoy himself taking the role of a passionate supporter rather than to have a real part in one.

And to anyone’s surprise; when it comes to sex, his twenty-year-old knowledge regarding this matter is no better than that of an elementary kid —To the point his two teammates (and even one being younger than him) have to question just how sheltered his grandmother has kept him until these days.

—Saigo

Demiromantic Graysexual (Sex-Neutral)

Because of his trust issue, Saigo is undoubtedly skeptical whenever it comes to making connection with other people. He is also known for turning down everyone his family tried to set him up with in the past. Having said that, deep-down he acknowledges the existence of love but doesn’t believe relationships will just work out for everyone. And just as he is currently chill with his alone life while still prioritizing his privacy, he isn’t eager to seek a partner anytime soon. 

Moreover, he thinks people have rights to be whoever they want as long as they are conscious of their own choices and decisions.

On matters of sex; he is neither completely interested nor thoroughly disgusted by it. He might be a bit more curious at his younger age, but now he holds little to no interest in it due to his daily stresses on many things. Normally he deals with those whimsical feelings by just ignoring them or keeping himself occupied with something serious (e.g. work) until they die down.

Happy Pride Month everyone! You matter and who you love and who/what you identify as matter as well! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖