#(with the last part underlined for emphasis)

[lipstickontheglass1985]

drunk me is so funny and correct sometimes

[samwise1548]

JonMartin week, Day 2: Monsters // Office Romance (prompts by @jonmartinweek)

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[ID: A Magnus Archives animated gif of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood. Jon is a short brown man with short hair, rectangle glasses, and navy blue suit and pants on. Martin is a fat, white, curly ginger haired man, wearing a blue jumper and round glasses. He's seated at his desk, nervous, as Jon stands looming over him from the opposite side of the desk. He's scolding him for one reason or another. Martin's inner thoughts are shown by a thought bubble to the right of him. In it, he is kissing Jon passionately on the lips, with the words "I wanna shut him up so bad!" written above them in pink text. The last two words are emphasized with an underline and red colored text.

Various little parts of the drawing are moving in an animated loop: Jon's mouth moves as he complains, with three red scribbles of anger springing up and down for emphasis, his foot taps in impatient rhythm. Sweat radiates off of the nervous, blushing Martin as he listens to Jon's ranting. The steam from a mug to the right of him curls and uncurls into the shape of a heart. Martin's inner thoughts loop over and over in his mind, as their shared imagined kiss plays over and over again. Lips moving, brows scrunching, a thumb running across Jon's face. Sparkles and hearts throb with the passionate heat radiating off the pair. Martin's poor heart can't stand the pining on its own. /End ID]

[chickenstrangers]

Wen as Observer in Moonlight Chicken

Something that really stood out to me on this rewatch of Moonlight Chicken is that Wen is always looking. He's always watching, very intently, and with so much yearning and vulnerability.

I remember being struck by Wen's eyes the first time I saw Moonlight Chicken, but on rewatch I realized it's because he's always looking. Unwavering. The camera is always watching Wen and Wen is always watching others. We are introduced to Wen with an extended shot of him gazing at Jim and Jim gazing back, and from that moment on, Wen does not stop looking.

Wen acts as the audience's surrogate in a lot of ways. He's new to the chicken diner ensemble, he's an outsider, he meets the rest of the characters along with us. The emphasis on Wen watching the other characters also underlines how Wen can be read as the point of view character, though not the main character (to the extent that the show has a single main character, which as an ensemble it doesn't really but Jim is the cornerstone for all the other characters). Because of this, there's a lot we don't get to know about Wen, a lot of the details of his life before coming to Pattaya and meeting Jim are vague, but we get to see a lot about the other characters through Wen's eyes.

Wen is often placed on the outside, watching. He is sometimes physically separated from the rest of the chicken diner family, looking on from a distance when he's with his other coworkers or watching while cleaning from the other side of the diner as Jim talks to Gaipa or Saleng. He's isolated, separate from the group, an intruder even. He wants community, a home, but also doesn't feel like he can have it yet, due to his job, due to Alan, and so he has his own walls up, casting himself as observer.

But the moments that really stick out to me are when he's looking at them close up, while sitting with them, or in Jim's case, often about two inches from his face. He's so blatant about it. But no matter how close he is to them, for a long time Wen still feels like an outsider looking in, wanting to be part of it but often just on the edges. There's a lot of loneliness and longing in these glances, wanting to see but also wanting to be seen in return. Wen asks Jim outright, teasing, "Can't I look at you?" but Jim just smiles and looks away.

Because he has that outside perspective, Wen's the first one to know about Li Ming and Heart, seeing them together in the food court and instantly recognizing their connection. He takes a photo of the two of them when they ask, highlighting his role as observer, acting as the camera lens. He doesn't tell Jim about seeing them together, and when Jim asks, he tells Jim he needs to pay more attention and listen more. Jim is too close to the situation to fully recognize what is happening, what his nephew is going through, but Wen notices.

Wen is always looking at Jim, and at the rest of Jim's (found) family, which is starkly contrasted by how he acts around Alan. The first time Alan is introduced, Wen can barely hold his eyes for most of the scene. The tables have turned and now Alan is the one looking, searching for the connection that has been lost. Looking back would reveal too much vulnerability for Wen, the love that isn't there anymore, and the guilt he feels. Until Wen gets mad, and then he locks eye contact. By the end of the show, however, as their relationship starts to heal and they are able to maybe actually be friends, they both look at each other more, without the intensity of before, but with comfort and familiarity.

Jim avoids long periods eye contact with Wen for much of the show, and though he looks back at Wen, he often quickly glances away. He can't look at Wen for too long because he has put up so many barriers between the two of them, not letting him get close. The way that Wen looks at Jim is completely open and inviting, begging him to look back, which Jim doesn't let himself do until the last few episodes. Gong warns Wen to just not make eye contact in order to avoid any emotional intimacy, but throughout the show we see that Wen is physically incapable of that. Wen doesn't want to put up those barriers between himself and others, and especially Jim, in just the same way that Jim is desperately clinging to those walls to protect himself, not ready for another love that might destroy him.

It isn't until the end, when Jim starts to open up and let Wen into his life, that Jim consistently looks back. Before this, it often became painful to see Wen looking so intently at Jim, putting it all out there, but not being fully seen in return, reciprocated. But they both desperately want to look. They're both lonely, even when surrounded by people, but they're unable to let each other in or be let in. There's so much yearning for that closeness, on both of their parts. They just need to be vulnerable and look back.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Duet, Bonus

There is something that bothers me about the timeline of the ending of Duet (S02E04) that's not a part of the episode break-down as such, so I'll discuss it separately.

The order of the last three scenes seems off to me. We have McKay and Cadman in the hangar bay with Beckett, Weir, Sheppard and Zelenka one moment, then we have a scene where Sheppard and Weir have a conversation as they walk into the gate room and then go their separate ways, and then we find all the same people (McKay, Cadman, Beckett, Weir, Sheppard and Zelenka) from the scene before that in the hospital. The chronology would work much better if they had all been in the hangar bay, they had accompanied McKay and Cadman to the hospital once they were retrieved from the wraith storage device and fell unconscious, they waited for the two of them to wake up, and then, since Weir and Sheppard leave the hospital at the same time, Sheppard following Weir, it would make sense for the scene that follows this to be the one where we find Sheppard walking after Weir into the gate room, which is not that far from the med bay, asking her about the Ronon situation.

It's especially for Weir and Sheppard that the current timeline makes no sense. They have a conversation, they both go their separate ways, and then suddenly both of them are sitting in the hospital waiting for McKay to wake up. Like they both left to do something in the meantime because they're just too busy to stay by the hospital bed of someone they're supposed to care about and just had to run a few errands while they waited for McKay and Cadman to wake up.

Currently it's hangar bay -> gate room -> ??? -> hospital -> ???

Order that would make more sense in context is hangar bay -> hospital -> gate room -> separate ways

I get why they chose the shot of McKay's deep sadness as the final shot of the episode, it packs much more of an emotional impact than Sheppard and Weir walking in opposite directions. And furthermore, I also get why they didn't want to put emphasis on Sheppard and Weir walking their separate ways due to the definition of "couple" as a pair of forces equal in magnitude acting in opposite directions in the episode. That wasn't something they wanted to underline, where they had used the midpoint of the episode to show Sheppard and McKay perform the same action. But all that aside, it's not only that the timeline would make more sense in this order, it's also that the emotional content of the middle scene, the gate room scene, seems wildly out of the place as it is. Now, McKay and Cadman fall unconscious, we find Sheppard and Weir having a conversation where Sheppard seems happy, almost giddy, good-natured and smiling but then, in the next scene, we find him in the hospital all somber and serious. Him being happy and preoccupied with Ronon while McKay is still unconscious and they don't know if he's alright seems strange.

Now, if Sheppard and Weir's conversation had taken place immediately after they left the hospital together, it would make more sense. Now that they're certain McKay is fine and his old self again, Sheppard has a reason to feel happy and light-hearted. He's so relieved with everything having turned out alright that he is able to smile, he's allowed to be excited about getting the new puppy. But since neither Sheppard nor Weir appear to be going no place in particular as they leave each other, it doesn't really work as a final scene. It doesn't pack the same impact as McKay's sad face.

Does it matter? Well, as we are going into the next episode, it does affect the reading whether Sheppard and McKay were left in polar opposite emotional states or if they were both feeling pretty much the same at the end of this episode. Because something had definitely happened between these two episodes. They seem to have had that moment by just the two of them that Weir suggested earlier before the beginning of the following episode.

[hippolotamus]

Shall I write it in a letter?

5 times Buck writes a note to Christopher + 1 time Chris wrote back

[Image Description: 6 images. 5 images are handwritten notes from Buck to Christopher. Image 6 is a cell phone with a text conversation between Chris and Buck.

Image 1: Blue background with T-rex watermark and handwritten text that reads ‘Hey Buddy, Have an awesome first day! Can’t wait to hear all about it! Buck p.s. what’s fast, loud and crunchy?’ To the right is a hand drawn arrow pointing right.

Image 2: Light gray background with moon phases print at the top. Handwritten text reads ‘Chris, Things probably seem pretty rough right now. It's never easy when your best friend moves away. I know this doesn’t make it better, but I'll bet Sarah misses you, too. I wish I could snap my fingers so you could skip the hard part. Hope you're having a Not Bad day. See you tonight Buck’. To the right of Buck is a hand drawn black heart.

Image 3: Pale yellow and green background in a sun formation. Handwritten text that reads ‘Dear Mr. FIRST PLACE, I knew you would crush it at the science fair. Plus, now we have a super cool plant for the house. Who knew they could grow like that? I know we've already said it, but your dad and I are SO proud of you. Can’t wait to celebrate this weekend. Love, Buck’

Image 4: Pale yellow background with handwritten text that reads ‘Chris, You have your driver's license now. Who let that happen? Oh, wait... :) I know you're probably too cool for school now, but be safe. Let me or your dad know if you'll be late or if the car gives you ANY trouble. WE love you, Buck + Dad’ Driver’s and License are both underlined for emphasis. Before ‘WE’ is a scribbled out ‘I’. ‘+ Dad’ is written in different handwriting.

Image 5: Light gray background with image of a rocket ship in the lower right corner. Handwritten text that reads ‘To my Favorite Diaz, It's hard to believe today is your last day of high school. Weren’t you just 7? Now look at you - valedictorian and ready for college. Kinda feels like we blinked and you were all grown up. Hope you know I'll never get tired of telling you how proud I am of you. Can't wait to see what you do next. I love you, buddy. Buck’

Image 6: A cell phone with ‘Favorite Diaz’ as the contact. There is an image of a young Christopher Diaz for the contact. There are 3 texts from Buck to Chris that read ‘You’re sure you don’t need anything? Plenty of snacks? Fridge is working fine? Ok your dad just told me to relax and let you settle in. Love you buddy.’ There is a return text from Chris that reads ‘Everything’s great, Buck. You’re gonna be OK. I love you too.’ There is an accompanying photo of Buck’s original note indicating Chris has held onto it.

/end ID]

[whispersafterdusk]

Magnificent - ch 1

A long train ride at least gave him time to think and plan and make lists to keep himself organized as well as occupied -- they staved off boredom in the short term and in the long term made relocating no big deal. Heck, he was practically an expert at making lists now with how often he'd moved for his contracts and having pencil and paper in hand meant that at least the logistics part of moving wasn't so nerve-wracking.

This one was titled "Things to check" and was six lines of scribbled out and underlined AND circled words for emphasis: - best outerwear for protection -- heat exhaustion? - eye protection - where's the medical clinic -- IMPORTANT - grocer's - mail and telegraphs pricing - rail schedule and plenty of space under and around it to add notes or questions as they came to mind (though he was confident that there wasn't really anything else too vital to add - there was the 'day 1' stuff and the 'pick it up as I go' stuff, with the former being WAY more important to answer quickly).

When the world abruptly went dark he flinched at the sudden change - it was just a tunnel and they were through it as quickly as they'd entered it, which meant Sandrock was minutes away; he was dying to stretch his legs. Stuffing the note into a pocket of his shirt he slouched and let his fingers fidget with the strap of his backpack in his lap; he might be a pro at packing and planning but as he was carried closer to his destination he could feel his nerves creeping up as he started to consider the personal part of being in a new place - a social butterfly he was not, he had never grown into it like his mother insisted he would. What would his neighbors be like? Or his boss? Hopefully they'd at least all be tolerable, being as he was going to be here for a couple of years.

Huffing out a breath he straightened in his seat as the train began to slow. ((Continued below cut))

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

It was marginally cooler this morning than it had been over the last week; Mi-an took that as a good sign - like the universe was pitching in to welcome their new builder - and quickly checked her sign to make sure her sweaty fingers weren't smudging the paint. Lindsay adorned the board and was thus far smudge-free, and a loud warning whistle had her looking up quickly as the train crossed the bridge and began to slow down on its approach to the station.

Behind her at the stairs came tiny pounding steps, and Jasmine bounded up beside her a moment later.

"Good morning, Mi-an! Oooh, who's Lindsay?"

"Hi Jasmine! Lindsay is the new builder! She should be on this train - Matilda asked me to meet her here, show her to the commerce guild, that sort of thing."

Jasmine clenched her fists and shook them a bit, grinning. "Can I help? I can give her the same tour I gave you! -- after I deliver the mail, though."

"Uh, sure! I don't see why not."

Jasmine grinned in anticipation and spun around to face the incoming train, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her heels as they waited. There was the usual loud hiss of steam and the screech of the wheels on the rails as the train lumbered to a full stop. Jensen announced its arrival and called out the time, then went to the passenger car and threw the door open.

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He waited for the other passengers to get up and leave before him -- he'd already come close to knocking one person down with his heavy duffel bag getting on the train so it seemed more polite and efficient to let everyone else disembark first, and this short time alone would help him get a handle on the jittery nervousness that had started growing after the trip through the tunnel.

With the train sitting still there wasn't any wind barreling in through the windows and it quickly felt like an oven inside. Such oppressive heat...he'd spent some years in Barnarock but this seemed worse, and it was going to be a big part of his life for the next three years; he supposed some blame lay in traveling in a long-sleeved shirt but he'd valued the pockets more than 'breathability' for the trip (he would NOT be making that mistake again on the train ride out of here) but, here he was, and he'd just have to suck it up and deal. Tugging the list free he added another bullet point and wrote 'approximate daily water needed' to the bottom before stuffing it and his pencil back into the pocket and finally standing to slip his backpack on and heft the duffel bag.

There was a slight breeze on the train platform that felt heavenly against his skin; a short, squat, bearded man waved for him to come out with a smile.

"Welcome to Sandrock! All passengers not continuing on are welcome to rest in the station or head into town proper by the stairs to your left! All passengers continuing on should expect to re-board in a half hour!"

He offered the man a nod and headed for the aforementioned stairs, pausing when he spied a small woman standing there next to a kid holding a sign with his name on it and watching the passengers walk passed with a growing look of confusion.

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

Hmm...no one's stopped... Maybe I didn't make the name big enough?

Mi-an glanced nervously from face to face - not that there were a lot of faces to look at, but not a single one of them so far seemed interested in giving her the time of day. Was it possible Matilda got the date wrong? Or maybe the builder had missed the train?

A tall, muscular man stepped off the train last, carrying a duffel bag that was large enough she could have easily fit inside it. His face was a little flushed and sweaty, his short brown hair already wet at the temples with little beads of moisture running down into his neatly trimmed beard, and his shirt sticking to his arms at the elbows. He stepped away from the passenger car's door and headed toward her and the stairs; no one else got off after him and Mi-an frowned as Jensen shut the door behind him. Uh oh...where was-

Her train of thought screeched to a halt as the man walked right up to her and stopped.

"Wow, you're big," Jasmine said beside her, craning her neck to stare up at the man.

A small smile flickered over his features as he shifted the duffel to his other hand, then held out the freed up one to shake.

He didn't look familiar...so what did he-- Mi-an looked between him and the sign and his hand. "Wait - YOU'RE Lindsay?" He nodded. "Oh...oh, uh, howdy then! Sorry, I was expecting..."

"Yeah, I uh...I get that a lot," he said softly.

He had a nice, light baritone that was more of a rumble at that volume and Mi-an hurried to shake his hand; it utterly dwarfed hers yet his grip was especially gentle.

"Isn't Lindsay a girl's name?" Jasmine asked - voicing what was going through Mi-an's head right that instant.

"I guess not always! Anyway, I'm Mi-an and this is Jasmine. I was asked to meet you so I could show you where the guild and city hall buildings are."

He nodded silently as he let go of her hand and jumped a bit as Jensen appeared at his elbow.

"Here you go, Jasmine - not much in today, I'm afraid," the conductor chuckled, handing over a small stack of envelopes to the girl.

"Thanks Jensen! I'll be back once I've delivered the mail!" she said.

Mi-an waved as the girl skipped off then turned back to Lindsay. "Off we go then!"

With him following along she headed down the steps and over toward the Commerce Guild where she could see Yan and Mason waiting for them outside. As they got closer she could see Yan eying them, confusion plain to see.

"Uh...Mi-an, who's this?"

"This is Lindsay," she answered, tucking the sign under an arm. "I guess Matilda didn't realize she'd hired a man, not a woman!" Turning her head she smiled encouragingly up at him; the height difference was absurdly obvious now that she was standing right beside him, and she could only imagine how easy all the heavy lifting that came with being a builder would be for him and felt the tiniest amount of jealousy as she turned her attention back to Yan who was staring blankly up at the man.

Lindsay offered a sheepish wave in response to the stare. "I'm used to the mistaken identity thing."

"Er... I...guess that's possible. Matilda must not have read that application too closely... AHEM -- howdy there, Lindsay!" he said, still staring up and trying to get his tone and expression under control - he looked like a child trying to size up an adult and Mi-an suppressed a giggle. "I'm Yan, President of the Sandrock Commerce guild! Pleased to make your acquaintance, yadda yadda yadda..." He trailed off then leaned in to Mi-an to hiss in her ear. "You're sure this is our guy? Gal? Whatever?"

"As sure as I can be," Mi-an whispered back, shooting Lindsay an apologetic - and awkward - look.

"Eh, right," Yan muttered, straightening back up and forcing a smile as he turned back to Lindsay. "I'll be overseeing you and Mi-an, but don't think of me as your boss! Think of me as more of a buddy that's your...surpervisor! And this here's Mason - he's retiring, hence, y'know, the whole reason for you being here and whatnot. Anyway!" He shifted to point back the way they'd come, finger jabbing out between the two builders. "See that workshop there on the other side of the tracks? Once Mason's left it'll be all yours!"

At the man's sudden troubled look Mi-an cleared her throat. "Don't worry - you can stay at the saloon. It's right over there," she hurriedly explained, gesturing to their right. He seemed to relax at that and again nodded without a word.

Yan opened his mouth and closed it a few times, mustache twitching. "--er, well Mason, got anything inspiring you want to say to our new builders?"

Mason hardly reacted to the question aside from suddenly looking a bit more tired and worn. "Uh, well...let's not get too friendly since I'm on my way out of here." He paused, looking Lindsay up and down silently before shaking his head and moving off toward the station - presumably to head home.

Mi-an looked from him to Lindsay and gave the newcomer a small shrug. "He's...a man of few words?"

"Yeah, he was always a bit awkward," Yan muttered. He huffed and straightened his hat, then jerked his head toward the Commerce Building. "Follow me, time for the official speech on how things work out here. You can worry about lodging later."

"Right," came the rumbling response.

Yan turned and sauntered off toward the guild building and Lindsay followed along behind, as did Mi-an - she'd probably already heard everything since she'd gotten here first but he hadn't said NOT to come with him...better to hear it all a second time than miss something important.

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

"Hey Mi-an! Who's your friend?"

The man he assumed was Owen greeted them as they walked through the door; Yan had finally talked himself out and let them go and Mi-an had suggested they stop at the saloon first so he wouldn't be carrying his things all over town.

"Hi Owen - this is Lindsay. He's our new builder and is going to need a room for however long Mason sticks around," Mi-an said, heading over to hop up on a bar stool.

Owen reached below the bar with a smile. "Let's get a room sorted right away so you can drop your bag off." He produced an iron key with a rumpled paper label attached with worn twine from beneath the counter and hurried toward the far end of the bartop. "Here you go - head up the stairs and you're in the middle room."

They met at the bottom of the steps and Owen handed him the key; Lindsay took it with a nod and smile and turned to head upstairs as directed -- just to be absolutely sure he checked the label and saw a barely visible 2 in faded blue ink, and there was a small brass 2 nailed to the frame of the middle door. The key smoothly turned in the lock and he stepped into a nice, dim, and cooled room where, with a deep sigh, he headed over to the bed and gently sat the duffel bag in the floor next to the little bedside table then plopped his backpack on top of it.

Care had definitely been taken to keep the room in good shape; it was one of the nicest places he'd been in - at least in the top three - and if he didn't have to go to City Hall next he'd happily towel all the sweat off then sink into that bed and take a nap. For now sitting on the edge of the bed and letting his nerves settle for a moment would have to do; Sandrock was about what he'd expected: not a lot of people, hot, dusty, a little worn down -- he felt a little out of place, as he usually did in a new region, and while he wasn't regretting his choice, exactly, he was starting to wonder at what kind of living he could eke out here. The smaller population of the town combined with the outlying tiny villages he'd seen dotting the map would probably all average out in the end -- fewer big jobs but lots of small ones, and while the small ones would pay the bills so to speak those types of tasks had always felt monotonous...oh well. Gols were gols; he'd primarily come out here for a change of pace anyway and the contract was only three years -- if Sandrock turned out to not be the place for him then he could move along as soon as his contract was up, like he'd always done.

There was a tiny bathroom that connected with the next room over; the inner door for that room was locked from this side - no idea if there was someone staying in there but after he'd wiped his face off with a damp cloth he flipped the latch open just in case (and then locked the door on his side, from within his room) then headed back down to the saloon proper, slipping the key into his pocket as he went.

Mi-an and Owen were chatting in low voices when he reached the bottom floor and she perked up, smiling over at him.

"Ready for City Hall?"

"Yeah."

"It's just up the street from here," she said as she walked passed him. "And I can show you where the general store is too."

That WAS one of the things on his list, at least. He gave Owen a quick wave and a smile, getting the same in return, and followed Mi-an back out into the heat.

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

The sun really glared off all the windows and the street up here and there wasn't any shade at all either; if it wasn't for the fact that this balcony gave him a great view of all but the streets and upper part of Sandrock behind him Pen wouldn't regularly pick this vantage point for his morning watch.

He could see that weak little shopkeeper setting up for the day, and their bumbling Civil Corps members standing outside the sheriff's house talking about whatever it was they wasted time on. Matilda had just entered City Hall through the door beneath his perch, there was Heidi and what's-her-name, the shopkeep's sister, standing at the notice board talking. And then there was the little builder walking up the road toward him with an...absolutely...massive...beast of a man walking along beside her. Who the hell was THAT? He was almost as large as Pen was!

Almost. From here it was hard to gauge it precisely -- it was a good effort at coming close to comparing though!

But seriously. Who was that?

When they reached the steps he jumped off and landed all awesome-like right in front of them; the man jerked back with his hands half-raised, as though he'd been expecting a blow or something, and had a suspicious look to him when Pen straightened and brushed off the dust he'd kicked up with the landing.

"Stop right there!" he bellowed, eying the man. The man lowered his hands after a moment but was standing very still - like an animal cornered by a predator. "Who's this?"

It was Mi-an who answered him. "Um, hi, Pen. This is Lindsay, our second builder."

"Lindsay?" he repeated, squinting. This guy was a builder? Building things could give you a physique like that? "Builder? You're sure?"

"...yes?" Mi-an answered, looking confused. "Who or what else would he be?"

"Could be one of Logan's gang - I don't see how a builder can reach THESE gains just from swinging a hammer," Pen snorted, reaching out to prod at the man's bicep. "What's your work out routine? Protein intake?"

"Uh..." The man didn't actually answer, still looking like he was ready to bolt. Suspicious.

"Huh...? Why would I be walking down the street with a bandit?" Mi-an asked. "Matilda's expecting us in City Hall."

Pen huffed; how annoying - odds were if he held them up for answers Matilda would come looking. "Fine. But you-" he jabbed his finger into the builder's appreciably large left pectoral. "-if you ever see a man named 'Logan,' run. To me. So I can dish out justice to this criminal. And in the meantime I'll come by again later to hear about your exercise routine because clearly something more than building is going on here."

The builder looked between his chest and the prodding finger. "...all right?"

"Hehe...maybe you should become a builder then, Pen," Mi-an giggled awkwardly.

She ducked around him and the man stiffly followed her without taking his gaze completely off Pen as he moved; Pen watched, arms crossed, until they disappeared inside then heard a burst of laughter from his left.

Turning his head he saw Heidi and the- Amirah! That was her name, right - with their heads huddled together, laughing.

"And what's so funny?" he challenged, shifting to face them.

"It's nothing," Amirah replied, hiding her mouth briefly. "You needn't worry about it."

"Oh hoh, now that sounds exactly like something I should worry about - if I were the type to worry about anything," he grunted. "So, what's the joke?"

"It ain't a joke - you saw him, right? Did Mi-an say who he was?" Heidi asked.

"That...was our second builder," Pen answered slowly, eyes narrowing. She was getting at something...but what...

"Oh good, he's staying," Heidi grinned. "Can't wait to meet him. It's not often we get someone out here built like that."

"...wha- built like "that?" Him?" Pen sputtered. "Excuse me ladies but I am right here! AND I was here first!"

"That's true, but," Amirah said slowly, "I'm pretty sure he has you beat, oh mighty Protector."

Pen let his jaw drop open - were they blind? Lacking spacial awareness? ...teasing him? The audacity! "He absolutely does NOT, I assure you. Compared to me he's-- he's...skinny! A bearded stick! In dire need of protein and a proper regimen! He'll have to work A LOT harder if he wants to catch up to ol' Pen, pfuh," he scoffed. "Didn't anyone ever teach you two how hurtful it is to lie? Honestly."

Heidi folded her hands across her stomach, shrugging. "I wouldn't be too sure about that -- I'd estimate he has you by at least an inch across the chest, if not more, and a few centimeters in those biceps bare minimum."

"Again, hurtful. Lies." Sticking his nose in the air he flipped his cape out of the way and spun on a heel to stalk off, grinding his teeth at the tittering laughter behind him.

Who did those two think they were? Rude, is what they were! Hmmph. And now he was in a bad mood... He would definitely go find that builder later and those girls could think whatever they wanted -- no one was stronger than him in Sandrock. NO ONE.

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

Amirah waited until Pen was well out of earshot before turning to Heidi. "So...exactly why did you want to rile up Pen like that?"

Heidi was laughing too hard to answer right away, rubbing away a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye. "He slammed my door the other day and knocked four picture frames off the wall, which I then had to commission replacements for."

"Goodness. What was he even doing in your office anyway?"

"Going on about turning one wall of his room into a floor to ceiling mirror or something," Heidi answered, shaking her head. "I can't just change anything in the dormitory without the Church's approval, AND he had the nerve to complain about the price too."

Amirah sighed, crossing her arms then shifting to instead rest one hand against against her cheek. "Has he at least offered to pay for the frames he broke?"

"Nope," Heidi answered, tone flat.

"Lovely..." Amirah sighed in response.

"It didn't cost much and Mi-an got them done in a matter of hours so they've been replaced at least. That wall looks way too bare to not have something on it. ...but, on a more serious note, our new builder, huh?"

With a nod Amirah turned to look toward City Hall's door. "Mmhmm. I wonder where he's from... I should get back to my shop, however. Do let me know if you learn anything about him, though I'm sure I'll either hear from Mi-an or get to speak to him myself eventually."

Heidi gave her an affirmative nod then headed back into Construction Junction, being sure to carefully close the door behind her.

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

Though the saloon was busier when the builder came back Owen still caught sight of him holding the door open for a few people before heading up the stairs - he was a big man so even in a crowd he'd be hard to miss, and was just as easily noticeable when he came back down the stairs in a dry, short-sleeved shirt. As he sat down at the counter Owen gave him a little nod to acknowledge him before ducking into the kitchen to bring out table 3's order, hurrying by and in his periphery seeing Grace hand the guy a menu.

After dropping off the order and quickly tending to a refill Owen came down to that end of the counter, putting on his warmest smile. "Hey builder! Did Mi-an give you the grand tour?"

The man looked up from the menu. "Jasmine did, actually."

"She likes doing that - she's a good kid, helps out around town wherever she can. You hungry? Thirsty?"

"Both," Lindsay answered. "And sorry for not saying much earlier. New places make me a little...shy, I guess."

"Ah, no worries, and no need to be shy around here either! You'll find folks are pretty welcoming."

A small smile ghosted across the builder's face. "I figured that out already, yeah."

"Just to make it an official introduction - I'm Owen, owner of the Blue Moon Saloon. Welcome to Sandrock," Owen continued. He stuck his hand out and Lindsay accepted it, shaking with a gentle grip, and a familiar-looking tattoo on the man's inner forearm caught his eye. "-not to be nosy or anything but is that...?" Owen released his hand and Lindsay obligingly turned his arm to bring the tattoo fully into view; it was a pair of boxing gloves touching at the knuckles, with short length of visible 'arm' extending out passed the ends of the cuffs. There was a capital L on each arm segment, and a larger capital B in the middle overlaying where the two gloves were touching. "Haha, I thought I recognized that! Lucien Boxing League, right?" Owen laughed.

"Yeah. Was a member while I lived there. Seven years."

Owen leaned down to brace his hands on the edge of the bar, letting out a wistful sigh. "I haven't been to Lucien in an age... Stayed there for about ten months back when I was younger. The league is where I learned to box, in fact! I was only a member about six months before I moved on though. Do you still box?" A nod. "Well, hey, if you're ever looking for a sparring partner, just ask! I've got all the gear needed -- not really anyone but me around here who knows the rule sets and whatnot, though. Justice - that's our sheriff - sometimes is up for a few rounds but boxing isn't really his thing so he only knows the bare basics. It could be a lot of fun to have an actual challenge again!"

Lindsay smiled. "I'll keep it in mind." He held the menu up to him. "Special, and water, please."

"The special comes with yakmel milk, did you want water instead of that? Both?"

Lindsay considered a moment, glancing back at the menu before holding it out to him again. "Um...both, but make the water a small."

"You got it," Owen chuckled, tucking the menu away and heading off to the kitchen.

Stewed beef and potatoes, sandberry egg soup, and a tall glass of yakmel milk to wash it all down -- an easy order, and it didn't take long to cook. As he brought the dishes out he noted Mason taking a seat on the stool to Lindsay's left, hunching over and looking surlier than usual.

"Afternoon, Mason - the usual?" he asked as he set the plates down in front of Lindsay and then stepped aside to get out of Grace's way as she came over with the glass of milk and water. Mason grunted quietly and didn't look up from where he'd clasped his hands on the counter. That wasn't...entirely out of character for him lately, but something about it seemed a bit off all the same. "Er...everything all right?"

The old builder was silent for several more breaths before his hand darted out and snagged Lindsay's glass of milk; turning on the stool he stared Lindsay down with a stony expression.

"You shouldn't have come out here. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave on the next train."

Lindsay looked shocked as Mason stood and downed the entire glass of milk in a few large gulps before moving to the far end of the bar to take a suddenly vacated stool.

"I...uh..." Owen sputtered a little bit -- THAT was definitely not in character. "I'll...get you another drink..."

He slowly backed a few steps up toward the kitchen, eying Mason silently, then as he turned to head through the doorway he heard Grace reassuring Lindsay with a "maybe retirement is already getting to him -- can I snag you anything else while Owen's getting that milk?" The heavy kitchen door swung shut before he heard an answer - if there was one - and for a moment Owen stood just beyond the door, puzzling over Mason's foul mood.

The guy was getting to retire and move on to (literal) greener pastures, and it wasn't like he was being driven out of his home to do it or anything - HE'D chosen to retire and leave, and that place was his until he left. Heck, would Lindsay even be able to work with Mason still here? ...he wasn't trying to convince Lindsay to leave because he'd changed his mind, had he? If that were the case it would be better for everyone involved if he'd just be honest about it immediately so Matilda could help Lindsay figure out living arrangements...it'd be awful to uproot your life, come all this way on a promise of employment and housing, only to have the housing half - which also directly impacted your ability to work! - be ripped away at the last moment.

Regardless of the reason, someone would need to make up for that rudeness.

Owen quickly poured a second glass of milk and headed back out to Lindsay. "So, uh...hehe, sorry about that. Not sure what's gotten into him. But how about this: when you're done eating we can head over to a booth and have a sit down, chat a bit - Sandrock is pretty different from anywhere else in the Free Cities and I like helping folks acclimate however I can. I bet you've got a lot of questions."

Lindsay nodded (he had a full mouth - Owen probably could have timed that better) and Owen stepped away to settle up the bills with a few folks. He split his attention evenly between the remaining customers from the lunch rush, Lindsay, and Mason -- the latter was still sitting at the bar nursing his second glass of milk and looking less prickly but more...gloomy. If he got a chance Owen would try to talk to the man and see what was bothering him but when Lindsay was done he led the way over to the booth near the main door as Grace took care of clearing away the dishes.

"Not bad timing," Owen chuckled as they sat down. "Crowd is light enough that Grace can handle things while we chat. I know Sandrock can be a bit overwhelming to newcomers but lucky for you this old barkeep has been around for just a hair longer than a panbat's age! Perhaps I can shed some light on any subjects you're unfamiliar with, or answer any questions you've got about desert life."

Lindsay smiled faintly and reached a hand up toward his chest, then paused and glanced down. "...wrong shirt." He was silent a moment, thinking. "Does that tailoring shop I saw do custom orders for clothes? As stuff wears out I'll need shirts and pants that can hold up to work without cooking me and I don't usually find ready-made clothing that fits that criteria AND me all that often."

"Absolutely - just go see Vivi, she'll get you sorted out whether it's work clothing or otherwise. I can't speak for what you'll need for your builder duties but for casual stuff around town you'll want anything loose-fitting that breathes and long sleeves to keep from getting burnt to a crisp," Owen answered. "Hats really help keep you cool too."

Lindsay nodded. "I've lived in extremely hot climates before so I somewhat recall what's appropriate for day to day living - it really is just an issue of finding things in my size that can handle how rough a builder can be on fabric."

"Ah, I gotcha. Luckily Vivi does it all: custom orders from scratch, alterations, and stuff good to go right off the shelf in various sizes - possibly even yours, so no need to worry about that."

"Got it." Lindsay hesitated then; Owen waited until he continued. "Is it safe enough to go for walks and runs around here?"

"Here in town is pretty safe. I mentioned him before but our sheriff Justice and I go way back. He's one of the toughest guys around, his partner Unsuur is very reliable, and they get a lot of help from Pen with the Church-" he stopped as Lindsay winced a bit at the mention of Pen's name. "-I take it you've met Pen?"

"Yeah..." the builder answered quietly. "Thought he was there to pick a fight at first."

Owen laughed. "He's excitable and earnest, but he'd never purposely goad someone into an outright fight for the heck of it. Now, he will probably insist on taking you down to our showdown ring to teach you the basics of combat, which is going to seem like an excuse to fight and not get in trouble for it, but he does try to do his best to make sure people are prepared for the dangers around here - in his own way. I think you'll be fine though if you've been a boxer for seven years plus some," he added, chuckling.

That got a smile out of the man. "Understood. So town is safe, but what about elsewhere?"

"That's a bit trickier," Owen answered, sighing. "We've got dangerous wildlife around, the environment can be deadly if you're not prepared, and, well, you've probably heard about our bandit problem." Lindsay nodded. "The more infamous one is Logan. He used to be a citizen of Sandrock, then one day he just went crazy and blew up a building. I guess being out here in the desert makes some people lose their minds... Other than that, you'll mainly want to watch out for the rocket roosters, the rockyenarolls - they both attack in packs and flocks so if you see one always assume there's more somewhere nearby and just try to give them a wide berth. They usually don't attack unless you get close, at the least. Then there's the Geeglers. They're mutated lizards who seem bent on causing us trouble for some reason... And, of course, there's sandstorms. It's better if you just stay inside during one of those -- we've...we've lost a lot of folks to them over the years. Our mayor is out in the desert right now trying to stop the winds from blowing sand over what little greenery we have left."

The builder hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against the booth and propping an elbow atop the back of his seat, giving Owen a good view of how built the man was. Though he'd just warned him about all the dangers he didn't think he'd have much to worry about; boxing may not be the right kind of fighting style for all occasions but just being a big guy in general ought to be a bit of a deterrent to man and beast alike, not to mention the reflexes and reactions that came with practicing the sport. (Owen was already wondering if he'd come to regret asking him to spar in the ring - he'd better brush up on his skills if he didn't want to be embarrassed).

"I heard folks on the train fretting over whether they'd be able to afford water around here so how does that work?" Lindsay asked then.

"I'd think that's a bit of an overreaction, but you'll want to talk to Burgess over at Water World," Owen replied. "It's the tiny storefront over at the water tower's base, and Burgess runs it - he's a really nice guy, and will insist on helping you carry the water back to your place after you've bought it so don't feel bad about that. We're big on conserving water out here; we have to be. That oasis has been getting steadily smaller over the decades... Buy only what you need to fill up your tank, and check the filter weekly to make sure it doesn't need cleaning. I usually keep two or three spare filters on hand so I can rotate them out when I need to clean one of them."

"Are there ever any boil warnings?"

"Burgess will warn you if there's a boil warning in effect. We usually don't get those until toward the end of the month when the water in the tower is getting low and we need to start drawing off the oasis stores. We get the majority of our water from Portia and Atara and it gets filtered and treated before they ship it to us."

He was silent for a few breaths, clearly thinking. "...I think that's all I have for now. The rest I'll learn as I go."

Owen paused as Grace came over and set two glasses and a pitcher of water on the table between them. "You two look like you'll be here awhile," she said with a smile directed at Lindsay, who returned it but didn't comment.

"Thanks Grace, appreciate it," Owen chuckled before turning his attention back to the builder. "If you think of anything else feel free to ask. In the meantime, if you feel up to chatting still - no pressure at all! - do you mind talking a bit about yourself? I like getting to know my neighbors."

Lindsay smiled faintly. "You're a native Sandrocker, then?"

"Yep - born and raised and, aside from some traveling in my younger years, I've always been here. How about you?"

"My family is from Seesai, originally. We left when I was little and moved to Ethea, then to Barnarock. After I completed school I started out on my own: Tallsky, Lucien, back to Barnarock, then Highwind, then here."

"Barnarock, huh? Arvio and Amirah are from there. How's the weather compare?" he chuckled.

Lindsay shook his head, helping himself to the water. "My time in Highwind must have de-conditioned me when it comes to extreme heat. I didn't think Barnarock was bad until I got to Highwind and remembered what actual weather was like, and now I'm here and it's too hot again."

"I do get told a lot that we're hotter than Barnarock, it just means we all have to be mindful of the heat and our health. It's not so bad once you get used to it and learn how to manage." Suddenly the man tensed, eyes on something off to Owen's left. Turning his head slightly he spotted Pen having just walked through the front door, on his way to the bar. "-he's really not so bad," he said quietly. "A bit - ...ah, well, a lot - full of himself, but not someone you need to be afraid of."

"You'd be amazed at the number of times I've been sucker punched because some guy had to prove himself or whatever," Lindsay replied, eyes still riveted on Pen. "He definitely gave me that feeling earlier."

Owen looked back to him, blinking in surprise as that sunk in. "...really? People have just up and attacked you before?"

"Yeah. Growing up it was because I've got a 'girly-sounding' name. Then as I got older they were mostly drunks, or the newcomers to the league who thought they needed to make an immediate name for themselves by picking a fight with whoever they thought was the toughest in the room. But, yeah, really. You get to where you assume people walking up behind you or approaching you with, uh...with purpose, don't usually mean well."

"Well, I don't allow that sort of thing in the saloon - I've bounced my fair share of folks out of here for bad behavior - and Pen certainly won't do that."

"If you say so." With that Lindsay...didn't quite relax, not fully, but he at least looked away from Pen.

"-oh! Speaking of the league, was Sugar Pete still there when you were a member?"

The builder snorted in amusement. "Yeah, he was."

Owen let out a low whistle. "That man was ancient even back then... He'd have to be, what, almost 90 now?"

"Nearabout. Haven't heard that he's passed away so he's probably still sitting ring side yelling at the new blood."

With a laugh Owen shook his head. "He was a character, wasn't he? Did he name you or did you get to pick yours?"

"He did. You?"

"Yeah, he picked my name too," Owen replied, grinning. Ol' Sugar Pete...Lucien's boxing legend way back when and general terror to the newest members of the league, but there wasn't anyone more knowledgeable about the sport than him and though Owen had regularly gotten the tar knocked out of him at the start under Sugar Pete he'd eventually gotten competent enough to hold his own. "I ended up with Hotfoot." A slow smile crept its way across Lindsay's face at that. "I know, not exactly impressive. What'd you end up with?"

"Avalanche."

"...ah," Owen said.

Yeah, he was probably going to regret getting in the ring with him.

[awlimagines]

Hand in Hand - Romantic Walks Part Two

The last half of the Hand in Hand prompts by @novelbear. This half includes Lumina, Marlin/Matthew, Muffy/Molly, Nami, and Rock.

I liked how the randomizer did the bonus prompts for Nami and Rock. At first, I felt frustrated because it seemed easier if they were switched, but the challenge was fun.

LUMINA

You had survived your first year at the farm and gained a fantastic girlfriend in Lumina. The only hiccup you could complain about for the new year was the amount of chaperoned dates. Romana and Sebastian were an aggravating mix of happy and overprotective of Lumina. You admittedly had more patience for the duo’s antics than Lumina was showing. After your last supervised trip to Van’s stall, she told you the matter would be handled. 

So, when you opened your door at the crack of dawn, you were surprised to find the butler. The man seemed down as he handed you a letter and a sunsweet flower. Sebastian parted soon afterward without the usual pep in his step. You wondered what Lumina said to have the older man acting in such a way. Flipping open the letter, you saw the young heiress had invited you to a private dinner at the manor. The corners of your mouth lifted in a smile at how she had underlined private for emphasis. 

The day seemed to drag on forever before you could finally prepare for the night. You washed quickly and attached the rare flower to your clothing before leaving. It seemed a waste to leave the sunsweet flower in a lonely vase where no one would see it. Lumina probably spent good money having Van procure such a purchase. You had heard from Pete that the flower was all the rage in Mineral Town and looked for when wanting to date another. 

“Ah yes, Y/N. Welcome, please follow the path to Miss Lumina,” Sebastian greeted you at the door. 

The butler still seemed down in spirits, and Romana was nowhere in sight. Your eyes drifted from his expression to follow where he indicated. A gasp slipped from you at the sight of hundreds of delicate red petals littering the floor, creating a path up the stairs toward Lumina’s room. How many sunsweet flowers did she buy and mutilate to make such a scene? You were touched she went through so much effort for you. 

“Oh, you’re right on time!” the brunette smiled as you entered. Lumina stood at the small table in her waiting room. The table was neatly set for an intimate dinner, with the trio of tables beneath the windows laden with food. “I hope you’re hungry.” 

Lumina bashfully pointed out the dishes she made or helped Sebastian prepare. You made sure to get extra of these dishes. After heaping massive praise for improving her cooking skills after each bite, she hastily changed the subject to the farm. It wasn’t until you were done telling her about trying to isolate a fussy and pregnant cow that you realized you hadn’t been interrupted.

“Wow, I haven’t seen Romana or Sebastian once,” you commented. When Lumina averted her gaze, you grew suspicious. “What did you say to them?” 

“I told them if we couldn’t have some privacy, I would move to the farm with you.”

BONUS LUMINA

Lumina had changed so much in the past year. The first change was when she cut off all her hair to a shorter length. It made her look older, but you assured her she looked amazing. From there, her clothing changed. Gone were her jeans and sneakers, exchanged for lovely dresses and smart shoes. The largest change was her coming into her own. The socially awkward girl had really spread her wings and became comfortable with the small community. 

As the changes happened, you spent time reassuring the timid young woman. You weren’t sure she realized how much trouble it was causing you. Her new looks and attitude drew your attention to her and kept you from focusing on where you placed your feet. You couldn’t say how many times you had tripped over yourself in the last year gazing at your fiancé. Lumina noticed but always asked with concern about you overworking yourself or getting enough sleep. You couldn’t find the courage to tell her you were just lost in her beauty. 

The wedding date was just around the corner. You weren’t sure how well your heart could handle seeing Lumina in a wedding gown. From the hints Romana and Sebastian dropped, you hoped to remember your vows in addition to not tripping over yourself. Showing Lumina around the farm and introducing her to everything a final time was a welcome distraction from your thoughts about the ceremony. 

“So, that’s about all there is to caring for the chickens,” you finished her introduction to the coop and hens. “Since you’ve already met the sheep and cattle, the fields are all that’s left.” 

As you turned to leave the coop, Lumina, pitching forward, caught your eye. A fluttering of feathers and an angry squawk from the rooster confirmed her tripping over the fowl. You hurried to steady her, frowning at the rooster who continued to crow his displeasure.

“Are you okay?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to step on him,” she replied, avoiding your eyes. 

“He’s fine. I’ve seen cows step on him with less fuss. He’s just being a drama king in hopes you’ll coddle him,” you assured. “What happened? That’s not like you to trip over things.” 

“Oh, um, I just wasn’t watching,” Lumina replied, focusing instead on brushing nonexistent dirt from her skirt as a blush crept across her face.

“Why weren’t you watching?” 

Her eyes finally lifted to yours as frustration swept across her face. A lovely pout came with her retort, “Because I was looking at you! You-you just looked really passionate while you were explaining their care, and I couldn’t look away.”

MARLIN/MATTHEW

A friend in the city invited you to their wedding. As a newlywed, you brought your new husband, Matthew, along with you. Initially, you were worried about pollution, but your spouse assured you he would be fine for the few days there. The wedding festivities were a welcome break from the busy schedules you both kept in Forget-Me-Not Valley. 

That quickly shifted as your friend asked for more and more assistance throughout their wedding. As the couple left for their honeymoon, Matthew ushered you from the venue before more work could be put off on you. Ou walked silently at his side, unwinding from the stress of the last two days. It was supposed to be a vacation of sorts for Matthew and you. Neither of you prioritized a honeymoon with the farms to manage. This was supposed to make up for it. Frustrated tears pricked your eyes. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, a startled expression crossing his face. 

“I just wanted to spend an amazing weekend with you having fun, and instead, I couldn’t say no and ruined it,” you wailed. “I’m sorry!” 

The shocked look that crossed his usual stoic features made you cry more. Matthew didn’t hesitate for long before pulling you closer to his side. 

“It’s okay. Can I show you my favorite place in the city?” 

You nodded in welcome relief at the distraction he offered. Clinging tightly to his arm, Matthew led you at a slow pace through the darkened city streets. Your sniffles slowed to a stop as he led you through the gates of a park. It wasn’t the large one in the city's center that drew tourists and events. If it wasn’t for Matthew, you doubted you would have even noticed the area nestled between towering buildings. You expected a small pocket park, but as you walked along the trail, you realized it was larger than that. 

“You know, that’s one of the things I really love about you,” Matthew’s soft voice drew your attention. “Helping others so readily isn’t something that comes easily to me, and I love that you do it naturally and without effort. So, don’t worry so much. I had fun with you.”

MUFFY/MOLLY

The relationship started with you feeling like a bumbling fool. You had other relationships in the city, but none that made your heart skip beats like Molly's. You were enraptured by the blonde from your first meeting on the bridge. Her beautiful combination of fragility and confident optimism ensnared you. By the time the Harvest Sprites gifted you the Blue Feather, you knew Molly was the only one you could give it to. 

Yet, you found yourself hesitating at every step. She seemed interested in you, but Molly still went to the city for dates. Each failure made you want to profess your love for her. Would that be coming on too strong? Molly had led most of your encounters. Taking the reins made you more nervous than the first time you saddled your horse, especially when a simple misunderstanding could ruin what you had with her. You finally took your shot in the Fall when you saw Molly on the bridge again. 

You listened attentively and felt anger on her behalf as Molly told you about her friend’s wedding. This wasn’t the first time you thought she deserved better friends than the ones she claimed there. You didn’t pause when you told Molly she belonged here in the valley with everyone. As her green eyes widened in shock, your heart thudded rapidly. You barely managed to change your statement to her belonging in the valley rather than belonging with you. Had she picked up on your unspoken words? 

As you walked with her back to the Bluebird Cafe, her hand knocked into yours. You were willing to write it off as an accident, but how her fingers brushed against your own felt too deliberate. Swallowing your nerves, you took the hint and grabbed her hand in yours. Worries about your hand sweating fled as Molly beamed at you. You could start being more honest with her.

BONUS MUFFY/MOLLY

Nightly visits to the Bluebird Cafe and Bar became a habit after you began dating Molly. Part of it was wanting to see the blonde and spend time with her. But the main reason you came was to see her in action. Molly lacked confidence in mixing drinks and serving, which were her primary duties. Her strength lies in conversing with the customers. The animated young woman connected quickly with everyone and could converse with the standoffish Nami and Matthew. You were only aware of your smile from watching her as Gavin shot you one in return. 

“Aww, Lumina is too sweet for him!” Molly gushed the next day as you walked through town. You glanced at Lumina and Rock to see what she was talking about. “I wish someone would smile at me like that! And he doesn’t even notice.” 

“Yeah, it would be nice,” you mumbled. How could you tell her you did that every night at the bar? In the current circumstances, you felt it would be empty lip service. She needed to see it for herself. You would like her to smile at you like that as well. 

“Hey, Y/N! I heard from Matthew you started making hybrids, too! How’s it going?” Vesta greeted. 

You eagerly greeted the older woman and explained the crops you were trying to grow. The conversation soon evolved to sharing different methods of cultivating new hybrid crops. Your eyes drifted over to Molly as you spoke about new fruits to see a content smile on her face as she listened. Your words stumbled as you recognized the look. It was the same type of smile you had listening to her. Molly’s eyebrows rose in question as you trailed off, staring at her. 

“Haha, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date! Let’s talk later. I’m sure Matthew would also like to be included,” Vesta laughed before continuing on her way. 

“What happened? Did I distract you?” Molly asked, concerned. 

“Not at all! Why were you smiling just now?” you grinned. 

“Oh, I just thought it was cute seeing you talk about the farm with such excitement.” 

“That’s how I feel watching you light up the room at work!” you confessed, grabbing her hands. “But you don’t notice because you’re focused on the conversation like I just was.”

NAMI

The season was winding down, and all your crops were harvested. There were still a few days that Takakura recommended waiting before planting for the next season. With ample free time, you asked Nami to accompany you to Mineral Town. The larger town on the mountain’s other side was one you were interested in visiting. You wanted to see what the larger stores carried and their mines and hot springs. The redhead agreed readily. She hadn’t visited the neighboring town and was curious about it. 

Excitedly, you grabbed Nami’s hand to lead her down the path. Once in Mineral Town, you kept a steady pace to see everything. Nami followed you to the library and general store. At the general store, you were told by a local about another seller at the beach who carried other rare products. After the beach, Nami mentioned being hungry. You stopped for to-go orders at the local inn and asked for directions to the mine.  

You were quickly disappointed to see the lake mine was inaccessible. Luckily, a woodsman could direct you to the mine near the hot springs and said this one would be open once the lake froze over in Winter. Unlike the dig site at home, the levels descended deeper into the earth. You found some different ores before stopping and following Nami back to the surface. 

"This is great! I could walk with you for hours," you exclaimed, exiting from the mine. 

"That's sweet and all but I can't. My feet are killing me."

“Oh, sorry. I guess I got too excited and didn’t check in with you. Do you want to soak in the hot springs before we head back?” 

“Yes,” Nami answered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the springs.

BONUS NAMI

“Is everything okay?” you asked, concerned, as Nami groaned and threw a letter onto the table.

“My dad wants to meet my new partner and invites us to his next event.”  

“Oh, well. I can do whatever you want. Just let me know when you decide what you want.”

You kissed your new spouse on the cheek before leaving to begin your morning chores. Nami didn’t talk about her father often. You knew from a passing comment that their relationship wasn’t the best. While you had offered to postpone the wedding to invite him, Nami insisted she wanted it to be just the two of you. You had not pressed since then. Speculating on their relationship wasn’t something you wanted to do. Nami would open up to you when and if she wanted to speak about it. 

The next couple of days passed about the same, though Nami was noticeably quiet as she thought. When she approached you, she said she had decided to attend the event. Her reasoning was it might not be too bad with you there. Nami talked a little about her father on your way into the city. He worked as a museum curator, and after her mother left, he devoted more time to being at work. Nami held a grudge for his leaving her home alone and began to travel as soon as she could purchase her tickets and book rooms. 

The first thing you noticed was that her father and Nami had the same piercing blue eyes. He paid for you both to have new outfits from a high-end boutique for the event. After seeing her wedding dress, part of you was eager to see Nami in another formal dress. You were astounded to see her in a suit instead, with her hair slicked back from its usual messiness. Standing next to her father, who dressed similarly, you could see their resemblance came from more than their matching eyes. 

As her father greeted guests at the exhibit, you squeezed Nami’s hand in support as you walked the museum. The silence was heavy. You could see other guests whispering, but the only sound was heels clicking on marble as they moved from one piece to the next. It made you miss the sounds of Forget-Me-Not Valley. The carefully displayed artifacts didn’t even hold your attention much. They seemed lackluster after helping Carter and Flora unearth similar ones. 

“Ugh, you weren’t joking about this event,” you whispered to Nami. “Watching Rock hit on Lumina would be less painful than this.” 

Her sudden outburst of laughter drew the attention and disapproving frowns of those around you. You couldn’t find it in you to care as a smile of your own crossed your face. Other observations and jokes slipped from you until the breathless redhead lightly punched your arm, telling you to stop.

ROCK

At first, you couldn’t believe that Rock used to live in the city. It also seemed unbelievable that the two of you never crossed paths there. That was until you visited with Rock for a short vacation. You had forgotten just how large the sprawling metropolis was. The blonde didn’t say much until you showed him your favorite place to spend time. The arcade was shoved into a strip of warehouses nestled among furniture stores. A flat fee allowed you to play as long as you wanted, with extra charges only being applied for drinks and food.  

"I used to love this place,” you wistfully sighed. The Bluebird Cafe and Bar offered food, drinks, and company, but you missed the games. 

"Really? I went here all the time!" Rock exclaimed before a mischievous smile crept across his face. “Wanna place a bet?” 

“What kind of bet?” 

“Whoever loses the most games has to cook dinner.”

“You’re on.” 

After you paid the entry fees and a drink each, you led Rock to the fighting games. The blonde frowned as you masterfully trounced him. He hung on for a few more rounds, changing between characters for better luck before giving up and dragging you to the racing games. You both came in last against the other two players but smugly pointed out that your third place was better than his last. Rock quickly redeemed himself at the dancing games and eked out a win on a guitar game. The tie-breaker came down to the shooting games. 

“How much water does it take to make rice?” the blonde asked, frowning at the pot back on your farm. Despite moaning about his lousy luck on the trip home, Rock had accepted his defeat and was attempting to make dinner. The simple question made you uncomfortable with what results his cooking might have. 

“Why don’t we just do sandwiches or something easy instead of curry?” 

“What? No, that’s not a real meal. Lou would never serve that for dinner.”

BONUS ROCK

You surprised the blonde as he exited the inn. All your crops were harvested, animals tended to, and requests were fulfilled before Rock dragged himself from bed. The young man looked a little surprised to run into you first thing. The shock quickly faded to overwhelming enthusiasm when you mentioned having the day off. The planner in you had attempted to assemble a tiny itinerary for the day. The Fluffy Festival was happening in Mineral Town. Rock laughed as you ran through travel times to reach the next town and your food plans afterward. 

“Let’s just relax! The leaves look pretty cool this time of year.” 

He grabbed your hand and leisurely strolled toward the mountain path. Rock kept a steady conversation going as he shared the town’s latest gossip with you. Did you know Hugh might not like running? He had always felt like the kid was hiding something. Someone purchased the land between the two townhouses, and he heard they would soon start building a new home. Also, when he was at the Bluebird Cafe and Bar last night, Rock overheard Gavin tell Molly she should try dating in the valley. So, they would probably be a couple soon. 

“But hey, don’t worry! We’ll still be the hottest thing around town,” he winked. 

As you wound further into the mountain pass, the conversation dwindled. You walked silently alongside Rock, admiring the tree’s changing colors and the wildlife that scurried from you. You peeked over at the blonde, who watched a leaf sweep out of view on the stream’s current. The brief moments you could usually steal with him were noisy as you both shared everything you could think of before the farm stole your attention again. His golden eyes shifted to catch yours and return your smile with his own. You snuggled in closer to Rock’s side as you enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the day.

[robowriting]

kinktober day 7: aphrodisiac

summary: a powerful aphrodisiac has leo too impatient to wait until he and keeper get back to their room.

“oi, keeper! come look at this!”

keeper turned to look at the bottle leo was pointing at amongst the street vendor’s wares. leo watched him eagerly as he read aloud, “fountain of life: for human male fertility.” 

keeper swung his head up to stare at him. leo could have sworn he saw some yellow laughter mixed in his keeper’s default electric blue. 

“keep reading,” leo insisted, grinning. 

he shook his head at leo and teased, “what are y-you, ten years old?”

“read it, keeper,” leo said crossly.

keeper looked back down and recited, “with o-our miracle serum, you’ll be pumping out- stars, who wrote this? -pumping out u-up to 10x more sperm. that seems a bit excessive, i-i-“

leo cut him off, about to burst. ”for the love of the moon and the stars, read their slogan at the bottom. please, you haven’t read the best part yet.” leo waited with baited breath. 

keeper’s lights got scrunchy with annoyance before looking down again. “with e-enough fountain of life, you’ll have enough sperm to get anything pr-“ keeper stopped reading, and released a loud peal of laughter.

leo grinned, elated at his reaction. “enough sperm to get anything pregnant,” he finished, drawing out the last words. keeper’s face was turning pink and leo decided he wanted it a shade darker. “they underlined it, keeper! for emphasis! do you think we ought to purchase a bottle? try it out, see if it works?”

keeper leaned in closer, making leo flush even as he smirked. it was only three nights before that keeper had nodded his head in vigorous agreement when leo whispered that he was going to fuck keeper until he got the droid pregnant. the memory made leo grow warmer and he took the bottle from keeper’s hand, wanting to hold hands or to pull keeper’s arm around his waist instead.

just then though, the shopkeeper finally appeared, bustling to join them behind the stand, his eyes bright on the bottle leo was holding. “apologies your sir, i hope i haven’t kept you long. that’s a fine product there, if you’re ready to make your purchase? i can ring you up and, if you don’t mind me saying so, we have some discrete packaging as well. i’ve had several customers come back and swear it by it, they’re dads before they know it-“

leo put the bottle down with a clatter. what had been a pleasantly warm tingle turned into a fierce blush, embarrassment all the way through. “no. stars, no” he rushed to say. “i’m not buying this, this isn’t something i need, we were just browsing.”

the shopkeeper eyed them thoughtfully. he then pulled out a box from below the table. “of course. these are some other products from that brand, if you’re interested. give a shout if you want to make a purchase, i’ll just be here.” and the man took several paces back with a clipboard and started sorting some boxed merchandise.

leo’s eyes met keeper’s face.

voice low, leo said, “be a good boy and pick out something for us to try tonight?”

”oh, a-absolutely.”

* * *

the label on the bottle read: enjoy the orgasmic state of the arthurian legend: Came-a-lot! polishing your mighty sword has never felt this good before. use our magical serum for much increased pleasure.

leo and keeper laughed all through the crowded streets, bustling with street vendors and customers. leo was deathly curious, and retrospectively could admit that he jumped the gun just a little bit. while keeper stopped at one final shop to look for a replacement part, leo pulled the bottle out from the bag. he read the label again, unscrewed the top, and sniffed the concoction inside. 

it smelled heavenly. sweet, sharp, and spicy. it drew him in, wanting more of it, until before he knew what happened, he’d brought the bottle to his lips and taken the smallest swig. it burned on its way down his throat, seeming to awaken his senses as it sunk into him. everything around him seemed crisp. he slipped the bottle back into the bag.

keeper made his purchase, none the wiser, and they trooped back to their lodgings, hand in hand. leo couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding over to look at keeper as they strolled. they got to their hotel, and as they strolled through the lobby, leo realized with a great rush that the serum had worked much quicker than he’d expected. much better than he’d expected, too.

keeper’s fingers tangled up with his set leo into a tailspin, as did the way that keeper’s soft voice was reaching his ears. he was listening, of course, keeper was talking about their plans for the next day and suggested ordering room service for leo tonight instead of going back out for dinner. but in a much more immediate sense, leo was focused on the fact that he was growing hard right there in the hotel lobby as they waited for the elevator. he waited for keeper to look away, and once he did, he risked a quick glance down at his crotch. it was growing more obvious. he tried to adjust himself, but the friction of his underwear against his cock was enough to make leo throw his hands away, for fear of it overwhelming him. 

‘much increased pleasure, indeed,’ leo thought to himself grimly. he just needed to make it to their room, and then he would fess up to not waiting to try to serum, and they could start their fun evening a little bit early. leo’s mind supplied images all too quickly: keeper on his knees, keeper’s hand wrapped around him, keeper sprawled out in bed just for him-

“leo? a-are you alright?”

leo returned keeper’s steady gaze, words seeming far away. he made an attempt. “i’m so… i already had…”

the bell of the elevator shook leo from his reverie. people filed out of it, and then leo and keeper entered. it was just them, and the enclosed elevator felt so small, like there wasn’t enough room for them to stand with any distance between them. leo leaned in close, pressing his shoulder against keeper’s. keeper was solid and strong and the touch of their bodies caused a hot trickle of heat to move through him. he breathed slowly, trying to keep a handle on the situation. he was fit to bursting, sure that if a breeze struck him the right way, he would slip into euphoria. 

keeper reached out to hit the button that indicated their floor. in such a small space, the smell of keeper’s engine oil reached leo’s nose and he nearly moaned. keeper turned back to look at him, sharp pinpricks of orange dancing across his screen.

”y-you’re flushed and your heart rate is high. is something wrong? you’ve been a-a little quiet.”

the elevator shuddered into movement. leo desperately clung to the words he could find and tried to arrange them, one by one. “i took a sip… of the serum already. i’m…” even saying the word seemed like it would push him over the edge. he hung his head.

keeper followed his gaze and the way his face screen lit up with red at the sight of leo’s pants tented made a small whimper leave leo’s lips.

keeper chirped, “y-you're so impatient,” and then leapt into action.

keeper whipped his head around to the button panel. they were halfway up the very tall building. he turned to look at leo and without another moment’s hesitation, reached out and cupped leo’s cock over his pants. before leo could warn him that he was about to burst, keeper drew his hand upwards, applying pressure and then his fingers stroked leo’s clothed, but extremely sensitive, tip.

that was all it took. leo’s hips pushed into the pressure of keeper’s hand hard, and then jerked with each wave of pleasure. he let out a small shout as the pleasure overcame him so suddenly, and the sound echoed in the sleek elevator. his head was filled with static or cotton or pretty, orange light, and all he could do was pant against keeper’s shoulder, where he found himself clinging.

the elevator slowed, and just a moment later, the bell dinged. leo hastily straightened and hoped that the wetness in his pants wasn’t too visible. the doors opened to someone waiting, and leo was sure that the flush on his face and the brightness in his eyes was unmistakable if inspected closely. keeper put a hand on his back though, and steered him through the doors, blocking leo’s body as much as he could. 

they rushed to their room, laughing once the elevator doors closed again, giddy and silly. leo stared directly at keeper’s not-quite-there metal arse as he unlocked the door for them, and said, “i wonder how long this lasts. it’s not going to take long before i’m ready again.” the prospect wasn’t quite as stressful at their room as it was in public.

door unlocked, keeper pulled him inside. they made quick work of his dirty pants, and by the time keeper pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, leo was begging for more.

[clevervonskelli]

I finally edited my post-finale, notes-app thoughts so that they're somewhat intelligible and I'm leaving them here in one rambling lump. 

- ROSIE!! I would give this man all the screentime ever. The depiction of his mission and crash was executed so well! Nate did a stellar job with that and later at the concentration camp. 

- Take the "true" out of the "we were the masters of the air" part! I hate it. Who put that in there? It sounds corny, and weird, and like they achieved some sort of divinely dictated status and it really pisses me off. The vibe is manifest destiny, American imperialism-type shiz and I hate it. Just "we were the masters of the air" with a different emphasis in Anthony's Crosby voice would have been great. Miss me with that "true" bullshit. Yes, this miniscule moment is what I will fight over. 

- Ngl, I thought there was some sort of design/editing oopsie when a tumblr post last week zoomed in on the opening credits where it shows a collection of dudes standing beside a plane and one of the ones wearing a life vest had Rafe Law's face. But now I'm so happy that in the show Lemmons got to take flight and participate in such a cheerful mission. 

- The roles and screen time for the Tuskegee men: It should have been better for sure but it was at least tasteful?? as weird as that sounds. In my (white) opinion, their initial introduction offered a very limited look at the unit as a whole but still felt a lot more intimate than for other characters we have seen more often. In episode 9, Macon, Jefferson, & Daniels didn't say much but they felt so integral to the scenes they were in and had quiet moments (like the nods when they arrived at the new camp or being right in the thick of the scramble during the liberation) that felt all the more powerful because of the lack of dialogue. 

What I would have really liked is for their storylines to run through every episode as more of a parallel to those of the 100th, with equal attention dedicated to them/their missions, but at least they weren't simply tossed into the show in a way that felt careless or grudgingly forced. 

- I'm not sure I like Solomon as the one lifting the guard during the march. Yes, the circumstances really did lead to some of them helping each other like that, even as wild as prisoners toting the guns might seem, but having it be a Jewish POW in the show felt very morally pedantic, like some sort of Sunday-school lesson on being the bigger person. I can only speak as a non-Jew, but it felt odd! Instead of being an effective way to underline the complexity of the relationships between prisoners & captors or Germans & Americans it felt like it was trying too hard to also connect to the Holocaust elements of the episode. I feel like the result was clumsy and strange in a way that I don't think it would have been if it had been a character other than Solomon taking those actions. 

- And while I'm on the subject of the guards/prisoners angle...

That one guard yelling and bragging about how to handle the prisoners was awkwardly done. I can't remember it exactly, but if the show wanted to highlight that "not all Germans and not all the prison staff were Nazis but some definitely were and those ones were real bastards!" then they should have had the other guard looking conflicted or upset by it or something. There should have been some kind of nuance distinguishable to the audience.  Most of the faces were just so blank it felt like one guy was giving the scene his all while everyone else spaced for that take.

- They managed to convey the "old men and kids" thing pretty well without hitting us over the head or putting it in the voiceover. There's a more effective way for it to have been done, I just know it, but I have no actual suggestions and therefore must be gracious. I'm just happy they tried to show a tiny bit of how staggeringly drained and unrecognizable the entire German nation was by the end of the war. MotA's ✨bombing morality discourse✨ often felt unsettled throughout the show, but I think the attempt at illustrating that the first country the Nazis invaded/attacked was their own ended up being more successful. 

- I'm not sure exactly what they were doing with the moment where Buck and the horse stare into each other's souls but I love how it gives us the opportunity to have cracky, 'Cleven is a horse boy' jokes 🐎. 

(Ok, but seriously, what was with the horse? Were they trying to increase tension wondering if it would reveal them? Was it to show how dire things had become in Germany compared to when earlier they had such technological might? Was it supposed to be one of the emaciated horses they often passed while on the march? Is it for white horse symbolic reasons? Just for the aesthetic? WHY?!?). 

- I could have easily spent 40 minutes just watching the POWs trying to pack up for the march and I still wouldn't have had enough. I'm absolutely wild for the details and background stuff in Stalag III and I can't wait for all the gifsets and whatnot to be able to take a closer look at things ❤️

- They gave Crosby his locked supply shed moment!! I was really hoping for that, or when he intellectually destroys the 390th's navigator, to be included and it is so satisfying to see. I love having something else to focus on besides his voiceover and early episode struggles (both of which I do enjoy) or the weird af way they did the him+Sandra thing (which I quite despise). Add it to his Nietze quote and anxiety concerning their roles in the war and I feel like we got a decent characterization of him again. 

- I guess I can accept not enough budget for a 10th episode but there wasn't even enough for Meatball in the finale? Man, I'd sure like to go back in time and crowdfund that shit. 

- When Sammy yelled "they won!!" as the kiddos were playing after everyone leaves Thorpe Abbotts I got super annoyed. 

The hero worship would be very real of course, but Hanks & Spielberg can't convince me that a British kid who has been living a huge chunk of his life in a country at war would not make that a "we won!". Not only was England a part of the victorious side but Sammy was basically a part of the Thorpe Abbotts/100thBG family and therefore would likely feel like a part of any of their successes too. It's kind of petty but, again, it felt a little too "USA! USA!! USA!!!" for my tastes. 

- From the moment his casting was announced I expected Callum Turner to put his entire being into this role and he certainly has. They nabbed a 6'4 dude built like an old growth pine to play a man who was something like 5'6 and 120lbs soaking wet, but I could definitely see the vision. His dedication has been so clear in other episodes as well but there was just something about Episode 9 that went above and beyond. Maybe because there are scenes where Egan is alone more often (or at least separated somewhat from the others), just like when he first bailed, but Callum's facial work and body language was impeccable. 

[landwriter]

Sooo I wrote this while half-asleep like a week ago and wanted to read it over in the morning before sending (to see if it, you know, made any sense), and then I forgot about it until coming across it on my notes today, so here it is now:

Remembered another thing: having two different verbs for "to be" ("ser" and "estar"). This isn’t exclusive to Portuguese (I know it exists in Spanish, at least), but it's something that English doesn't have and that can give trouble to English speakers learning Portuguese (partly because we suck at coming up with simple general rules for when to use which that cover every last usage of "to be" and why in many cases only one is acceptable. I’ve explained it as “ser” is for things that are permanent, that are part of the subject’s essence – only for someone to promptly point out that you must use “ser” for professions, and people change profession all the time and someone’s work is hardly part of their essence. So Idk, if anyone’s read a really good explanation please send me a link so I have something to refer people to).

The lack of this distinction doesn’t seem, to me, to make English more ambiguous. At least I’m hard pressed to come up with an example where despite the context I couldn't tell if an "is" meant "é" or "está".

Out of context though.

"It's cold here where I live." Well is it cold now in particular, or is it a generally cold place?

"I'm happy." Is this a general statement about the overall condition of your life, or are you experiencing the feeling of happiness at this moment?

But while in context it's not ambiguous, I feel like it's a distinction that English speakers don't really make inside their minds. Like, they’re using the same word, not two different verbs which just happen to sound the same and have the same spelling. I certainly don't think about it when speaking English. But when speaking Portuguese, it's inscribed into the language.

Anyway, I just thought it’s a neat difference you might like to know about. I don't really have a way to work this into a fic. Maybe a situation where Hob wants to underline that something "não é", it merely "está"? Or the opposite? Eu estou triste, mas eu sou feliz? Mais do que estar feliz com você, eu sou feliz com você?

Or some wordplay? Ele está sonhando, em um certo sentido, mas, mais do que isso, ele é o próprio sonhar. He is (está) dreaming, in a sense, but more than that, he is (é) the dreaming itself. (fun fact, we use the infinitive, not the gerund, when we want to use a verb as a noun).

There's potential in the breaking of the rules, I suppose. Like, species is a "ser" case. Always. I am (sou) human. Buuut Dream being Dream, he isn't (não é) human. But maybe he can be (estar) human, in the time he spends with Hob. (Now I've entered playing with language territory. I wouldn't risk something like this in, say, a college admission essay or a Portuguese test).

Unrelated to any of the above, Flower King!!! Thank you for writing it. It is utterly breathtaking and so inspiring I spent an entire afternoon working on a new fairy tale WIP instead of working on the WIP I meant to work on. Like, I wrote two paragraphs of it and then opened a new document and spent hours just doing a new thing instead.

!!!! This is incredible, and I love love love your examples. There are SO many beautiful possibilities in breaking the rules and wordplay in a given language - that's one of my favourite sort of uses of language, is using grammar or any other form of linguistic, like, expectations and structure to say something. What a great case of something that (to me) is so elegant in the source language and can only be translated with tonal emphasis or extra words in English. I innately understand your example of Dream's relation to being human - I remember debating over capitalization for the same ends: his waking body vs his Waking body. Is love (He is in love, I am in love with you, It is love, etc.) a case that can use both? Can you use ser vs estar to distinguish between, say, an act of seduction versus a permanent state of being seduced by someone? Can you write shit like 'I was seduced; I was seduced.' or analogs? Because that's SO fucking sexy.

I feel like it's a distinction that English speakers don't really make inside their minds. Like, they’re using the same word, not two different verbs which just happen to sound the same and have the same spelling.

For me, at least - one representative of 400 million native speakers, and ppl's minds most certainly work differently around language, caveat, caveat, etc - I do sometimes feel a distinction between a specific & general state of being. Especially re: feelings. It comes out in tone, but I also think we use a lot of things that might not seem like obvious context in low context situations. These are probably super regional too (See how Canadians say yes by saying "No, yeah" and no by saying "Yeah, no", but also say yes by saying "Yeah, no, [yeah]" or any other positive marker. "Yeah, no, for sure." and "No, yeah, totally" are both agreements. Very intuitive!!) But take "I'm happy." - the context there is usually in the grammatical form used in the question - if you ask how's it going?, it's a now-in-particular answer. If you use present perfect or whatever the fuck it's called, you know, the auxiliary verb nonsense, and ask how's it been going? it's an in-general answer. It's also in the answers: I'm good is something you say when you've just fallen over and people are concerned, vs. I've been good when you've just seen friends for the first time in months and they're concerned. But that only comes up to the present and doesn't necessarily imply a future of good-being - I'm not sure if ser is different in that respect.

Are the two verbs used liberally to distinguish between temporary versus non-temporary emotional states like in your first example? Is it a common mode of expression to use both in one sentence? Can you use language like and instead of but? Is it seen as inherently contradictory like a transliteration would be in English? Because I'm absolutely feral for this. I love how effectively it holds meaning - to be able to say 'I'm shitty (right now) but I'm happy (in general) with nothing more than a different verb instead of having to add context. I wonder if it affects or enables a different mode of emotional expression?

Here, when people ask how you are and things are temporarily crap - in a banal way, like job stress or home repairs or exams - you instead generally make these insane understatements that serve to provide implicit subtext (things are actually shit), and also underscore the perspective that your emotional state now is not the same as your outlook on life (but you're still chugging along). i.e. "Oh, it's been [intentional pause]...busy."; "Not six feet under!"; "Things have been a little tough!". If you just said "I'm not happy," that would actually stop people dead in their tracks. Often we sub out the subject (I) when mentioning the less positive emotion and then stick it back in for the positive one we're couching it in. It softens things: "It's been stressful, but I'm stoked for winter break." We're trying to navigate the good and the bad in a linguistically and culturally acceptable way. What's it like in Portuguese? I would sort of love it to be both linguistically elegant and culturally normal in English to just communicate the complexities of our lives within the scope of a short exchange. We're not a country with loads of "It's bad and it's good and I'm here" idioms. But I know they're out there! Somewhere!

As someone who is generally Hob-levels of delighted (by life, my community, my friends, the mountains, a good tea or a bird, etc.,) but recently totalled my car which genuinely fucken bites, this bizarre little dance has been coming up a LOT at holiday get-togethers these past couple weeks hahaha. How have I been? I am* stressed to the tits, I am** happy. Happy to see you, happy to be here, happy. It is a part of the subject's essence! I WANT TWO VERBS! Please!!! *estar **ser

I'm so in love with the power of this - even if they've got rules that baffle Anglos - the way you've at least generally explained it is SO cool to me. I love the examples!! It's SUCH a neat difference. Am constantly delighted and humbled by the knowledge you guys bring to my ask box. Thank you for this rad Christmas Eve gift, dude. <3

Also thank you so much re: Flower King - that's exactly how I wrote it too so I'm glad it's contagious hahaha! Thank you so much for reading it. It's my pleasure to write and share stuff <3<3<3 I look forward to your fairy tale (and would love to hear more about it!)

[silversdragonemporium]

From Your Secret Admirer

Ship: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Byleth Eisner (female)

Summary: Shortly after starting to teach at the Officer's Academy, Byleth started to get weekly tokens of affection from a secret admirer. It started with flowers; then food and liquor; then a handkerchief. As the moons go by, she starts to notice that her mysterious gift-giver had started to put cologne on the tokens.

If she had to hazard a guess, it probably was part of some sort of noble courting ritual. As alphas and omegas were most common amongst the nobility, she assumed they tended to favor specifically-scented gifts. The gesture had seemed odd at first, but who was she to judge?

Byleth was a beta. She didn't need to worry about such things.

The second of my double entry for @dimilethfever's Hot Flash Round #3 (Anonymity)

Warnings: A/B/O (omegaverse), YANDERE DIMITRI ALEXANDRE BLAIDDYD (I mean it), bitching, super dubconny, That Blaiddyd Breeding Kink™

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Link

Have you heard of the story of Gwynedd and Powys? It’s an old tale, from a time almost forgotten. On the years after Blaiddyd of the Ten Elites perished, his seven sons and daughters vied for his legacy.

The sole victor of that bloodshed was a mighty alpha daughter named Gwynedd. With her victory, she had the duty to secure the Blaiddyd bloodline. However, Gwynedd was desperately in love with a common beta woman, named Powys.

Had Powys been born as an omega, Gwynedd would have been able to easily take her as a mate and spouse.

It was the Garland Moon. In Garreg Mach, much like any in any other place in Fódlan, there were droves of excitable youths that chattered merrily as they wove white rose love garlands to give to their family, friends and potential lovers. Byleth didn’t know what was so important about those white roses, or why they were so sought out for garlands. Roses had thorns, after all.

In her opinion, it was easier to just weave crowns from daisies, or any other thornless flower with a flexible stem.

“It’s a symbol of Saint Cethleann,” Dimitri had explained one evening after training, sweat making his shirt cling to his body in a way that was only mildly distracting to Byleth. “When someone weaves a love garland, their blood can get mixed with the white petals, making them red and representing the passion they hold for their beloved.”

That sounded stupid.

Dried blood didn’t look red. It looked brown.

Byleth was well-familiar with it, as she had seen it once a moon for years.

Perhaps that was why she didn’t get the ritual. Considering the emphasis on bodily fluids, it was probably some kind of weird alpha or omega thing.

Byleth was a beta woman, and as such, she had been… “gifted the moons of womanhood”. That was what the madam at the brothel had called it, when Jeralt dragged her there when she woke up with her bedroll stained with her blood. According to the madam, being a beta woman was a special boon, as it meant that she would be able to plan around her fertile window and decide when to have children in her own time. This was unlike alpha women, that were simply compelled to impregnate whoever was available each rut or —and the madam actually knocked on the wooden table as she said it— omega women, whose entire reasoning was completely out the window during their heat, and were prone to get themselves into compromising situations to satisfy their instincts.

During her time as a mercenary, Byleth had more often than not interacted with other betas. She could count the number of alphas and omegas she had to interact with in one hand, and most of them were nobles.

When she was given the class roster for the Blue Lions, which she was explicitly told to keep safe and secret from prying eyes, she noticed that almost all of her class were either alphas or omegas. Those with crests had the symbol for their designation underlined, as if having a crest somehow meant something to their designation.

Perhaps it did? Byleth sure didn’t know.

On the last day of the Garland Moon, Byleth received the first gift. It was a single white rose in full bloom, with a small note attached to it with a blue ribbon.

‘From your secret admirer.’

Gwynedd loved Powys with all of her heart, and she knew that she would accept no other mate than her. But the chieftains underneath her would turn up their nose at the idea of their alpha leader diluting Blaiddyd’s blood with a beta mate. To them, only an omega would be a fit consort for their chieftess. If the union went through, there were whispers of rebellion.

With her legacy and the Blaiddyd bloodline in danger of ending with her, Gwynedd prayed to the Goddess Sothis for a boon…

Ever since the mission at the Holy Tomb, people were being weird.

When she had taken that really weird-looking sword, which also managed to turn into a whip upon command, she was merely doing her usual thing of just adapting in battle to come out alive. It was just natural. She would’ve encouraged any of her students to do the same, should they find themselves in a similar situation. To do anything to survive.

But then it turned out that the weird-looking sword was not just any sword, but some kind of Hero’s Relic. And wielding it meant that she had a crest. Apparently, it wasn’t some kind of normal crest, either?

Ever since then, everybody started swarming around her, asking her questions she didn’t know the answer to about her origins and her crest. They also asked for her designation, over and over again.

That was actually quite rude. You don’t really ask people these things. Not unless they’re relevant, Byleth supposed. Still, Byleth decided to humor the students’ curiosity. And all she got for her troubles were a lot of unsubtly disappointed faces whenever she told them she was a beta.

The only one that wasn’t weird about it was Dimitri. Everybody else, yes even stoic and quiet Dedue, had asked about her designation. Dimitri just kept treating her the same as normal, asking for additional lance training drills after class and smiling his small, gentle smile whenever she called for him to stand up and answer a question on the chalkboard.

She appreciated that.

Her secret admirer had also remained steadfast. Every week, since that Garland Moon white rose, Byleth found another token in her bedroom with the usual note and blue ribbon. The gift varied from week-to-week, but usually they were flowers.

Although, actually…

Ever since the mission at the Holy Tomb, she did notice that the gifts were now more often than not small bottles of honey mead, candies and other such sweet treats.

Byleth appreciated that. Flowers were nice, but she liked gifts that were edible much more.

The Goddess appeared before Gwynedd, having heard her pure and desperate love for the beta she desired from her star. Gwynedd had hoped for the Goddess to change the chieftains’ mind about the worthiness of a beta as a mate to an alpha. But the chieftain’s hearts were black with fear, and not even the Goddess’s light would reach them.

So the Goddess whispered in Gwynedd’s ear.

Apparently, Byleth’s birthday was in the Horsebow Moon.

When Lady Rhea congratulated her with one of her enigmatic smiles, Byleth had only nodded, because the information didn’t quite register at first.

But now that her desk was covered in gifts, she realized that birthdays were a bigger deal to noble children than they were to commoners.

Dimitri had personally given her a small blue box with a smile, and shyly asked if she could wear it on the next mission, when they’d go to Gronder Field for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. It was a brooch of a lion. Byleth had been quite happy that he had noticed that she liked to wear a brooch, and had gifted her something that she’d use. Byleth decided to not only use the brooch during the mission at Gronder Field, but every day until then. Seeing Dimitri light up whenever she walked into the classroom was another small gift in and of itself.

On the other hand, her secret admirer had disappointed her a little.

Instead of giving her more of those simply divine sweets or alcohol that she had a hankering for, the only thing she got as a birthday gift was a handkerchief that she thought had been the wrapping, but had actually been the gift itself.

Byleth remembered looking at the handkerchief, feeling a little cheated. It was a very exquisite handkerchief, the kind that Mercedes and Annette would splurge on whenever they’d go to the town. But the issue was, that Byleth didn’t really know what to use it for.

It was a little too nice for it, but Byleth’s training sweat rag was falling apart, so she decided to use the handkerchief as a new sweat rag. She needed a proper rag to dry her sweat, now that she and the Blue Lions were training more diligently than ever, leading up to the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

Byleth’s moon came to her with a lot more cramping than expected. She was in so much pain, she tried in vain to drink as much alcohol as she could, which did manage to knock her out for a bit before her pain woke her up again.

In her alcohol-induced dream, she dreamt of a man picking her up by the hips and licking her bleeding pussy clean, making her body shudder with a sweet release that lessened the cramps. Then, her mysterious visitor left a vial on her nightstand and caressed her sweat-drenched forehead before leaving.

When she woke up with another cramp, she noticed that there was indeed a bottle of cloudy honey mead on her nightstand. With a blue ribbon a note.

Byleth didn’t know if her secret admirer had actually come into her room and… did that. But, she really didn’t care. She opened the bottle, and she noticed that it must have been a special casket-aged honey mead, because a mild cedar smell came from it.

She drank it, and felt the warmth of the alcohol ease her pain. The bottle her admirer had left was bigger than the usual small flasks he left for her, but she nevertheless drank it all in one go, as it tasted too good to go to waste. The more she drank, the less pain she was in. After finishing the last drop, she settled into a deep sleep.

The next day, her bleeding had slowed to spotting. It was about two days early, but during the first three days of her moon cycle she had had more bleeding than usual. Must’ve gotten it all out in one go, which would explain the uncharacteristically painful cramping she had.

Now that Byleth wasn’t in too much pain to function, she decided to go back to the training grounds and get back to preparing for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

That day, when she brought up her sweat rag to wipe her brow, she noticed something peculiar.

It was faint, but it smelled like cedar.

Some moons after Gwynedd’s divine revelation, the miracle promised happened. The beloved Powys went into her first heat as an omega in her alpha’s embrace.

Powys gave herself over to Gwynedd, and from their shared love the bloodline of Blaiddyd flourished.

Ever since the Wyvern Moon, Byleth noticed something interesting.

All of her secret admirer’s gifts actually had a scent to them.

Whether they were sweets, alcohol or flowers, they all smelled as if someone had spritzed cedar cologne over them.

Some kind of noble courting ritual, perhaps?

Byleth at first had found the scented tokens to be a little off-putting. Unfortunately, she had no way to communicate back to her secret admirer to not go crazy with the cologne. And he thought it best to just lay it on thicker with each passing week.

Still, it would be kind of a waste to not eat the food he’d leave for her. So she just learned to live with it.

Byleth had thought she was just bearing with the scent, but then, something peculiar happened.

Her sweat rag— handkerchief— the one her secret admirer gave her was gone. It wasn’t in her drawer, nor the convoy, not even in the training grounds nor the bathhouse.

Dimitri had stumbled upon Byleth as she was opening every drawer in her desk, desperate tears in her eyes.

“Professor?” He asked, as polite as always. “Is something the matter?”

“It’s not here!” Byleth sniffed. “My handkerchief! It’s not anywhere!”

“Did you lose that handkerchief that you used to train with?” Dimitri asked. “Don’t worry professor, I can get you a new one from the town—”

“No! It’s not the handkerchief, it’s…” she swallowed, and tried to understand why she was even so upset over a gift that she didn’t even like that much when she first got it. “It’s special. Someone gave it to me. And it…”

It just smelled really nice. When she’d wipe up her sweat with it, she felt that she was fresh and clean.

“Don’t worry, professor,” Dimitri reassured her. “I’ll help you find it.”

When he rubbed her shoulder, Byleth could’ve sworn she caught a whiff of cedar. But. It was all just wishful thinking.

Fortunately for her, that evening she saw her missing handkerchief wrapped up in blue ribbon. The note on it, read ‘I’m sorry for taking this from you for so long, I wanted to clean it for you. From your secret admirer.’

When Byleth opened up the handkerchief, she squeed in delight when she was hit by the powerful smell of cedar. She didn’t even think twice before she stuck her hand inside her shorts and sat on the floor, rubbing her aching clit as she breathed in the scent in the handkerchief.

When she came, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining Dimitri looming over her.

His name sounded so sweet when she moaned it.

What the Goddess whispered to Gwynedd during the divine revelation is not known to any living soul. Though there are some who say that Gwynedd’s Secret is fiercely protected by the blood of Blaiddyd and is passed down even to this day.

Ever since her handkerchief had reappeared, Byleth had been determined to figure out who her secret admirer was.

Unfortunately, as if guessing at her intentions, the students in the Blue Lions started to put on various colognes to throw her nose off.

How vexing.

But, she got the last laugh! Because, this meant, that her secret admirer was definitely one of her students.

Sylvain? He would pull off something like this.

Byleth singled him out and asked, straight to the point, if he was the one leaving her gifts. He denied it vehemently, fearing her wrath at the accusation.

Mercedes wasn’t it either, but she did say she could make more sweets for Byleth if she wanted them.

Felix just huffed at her and ignored her for the rest of the day.

Annette said she could ask around.

But on the eve of the Ethereal Moon Ball, Byleth found a blue ribbon and a cedar-scented note on her desk.

‘I know you want to meet me. Go to the courtyard after the eleventh bell at the ball. There, I will show myself.’

Byleth hadn’t really planned on going to the ball. It was an event for nobles. She had honestly hoped to just go to bed early and curl up beneath her warm duvet.

But, when she smelled the note again, she thought it’d be a good idea to go, after all.

Going to the ball was a bad idea.

It reeked.

Claude had dragged her to the dance floor with a smile, and for the next hour or so she found herself being spun around from one student to the next, each one smelling like a gross melange of various colognes and perfumes.

It honestly made her want to gag.

When at last the eleventh bell rang, Byleth fled the ballroom and ran to the courtyard.

Outside, the air was actually breathable. Byleth took a few deep breaths, easing her nausea after having to smell so many disparaging scents.

“Professor?” A voice called out to him. “Are you alright?”

“Dimitri?” Byleth asked, turning around to look at him. When she was turning around her head, she was hit by a familiar scent.

Cedar.

“Professor,” he smiled at her. “I saw you run out of the ballroom, and I was worried. What brings you out here?”

He was asking that, as if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t left that scented note with the request to come meet him. As if the anticipation hadn’t made her feel… wet, down there.

Oh great. She was wet. And it seemed to her, that there was… a lot of fluid down there? Almost like when she’d get her moons, but without the cramping, actually.

Wait. Was she bleeding? Byleth tried to think of the last time she had had her moons. It must have been… around the Wyvern Moon.

She had been so caught up in preparing for the battle of the Eagle and Lion, then the dance competition and trying to weed out her secret admirer, that she had completely forgotten to keep track of her moons. Not that she’d need to. She usually could tell when it was almost time. She had been fairly regular for years now.

Though… the last moon cycle she had, had been odd.

She couldn’t fathom why.

“Professor?” Dimitri gently asked again. “Is something the matter?”

“I…” Byleth pressed her hand against her belly. She didn’t feel a cramp. She just felt… “Dimitri, you were the one sending those anonymous gifts, weren’t you?”

Dimitri’s eyes seemed to almost sparkle in the moonlight. But after that instant, he clearly tried to reign back his excitement.

“How did you know?” Dimitri asked, approaching her slowly.

Byleth could detect something unusual in his gait. It was almost… as if he were preparing himself to pounce at her.

What was going on?

“You started to put your cologne on the gifts,” she said the obvious. “In fact, you really started to lay it on heavy. I had no idea how you managed to rope in your classmates into it to put on other scents but—”

“You can smell that?” Dimitri smiled, now looking down at her.

The smell of cedar was overpowering. But unlike the ballroom, where she wanted to do nothing but run away and gag… Byleth realized that she wanted to bury her face in his chest and breathe deep. She wanted— she needed it filling her senses, consuming her mind, until there was nothing but Dimitri’s mark of ownership stamped out on her body.

Byleth’s legs felt weak.

“I can…” Byleth said. “I can smell your cologne even now.”

“How interesting,” he mused. “You can’t smell the other student’s from the ballroom?”

“I actually left because it was too overwhelming… Out here, it felt better. I can only smell yours.”

“Is that so…” he said, then picked up a lock of her hair.

Before Byleth could ask what he was going to do, he brought it up to his nose, and breathed in deep. Dimitri let out a small grunt of appreciation, which inexplicably made her feel even wetter. She was going to drench through her clothes at this rate…

“You smell so good, professor…” Dimitri moaned against her hair. “I’ve never smelt a more delectable omega in my life.”

Wait.

What?

“I’m not…” Byleth protested. But as she did, she realized that her legs were now wet. Her underwear must have been drenched…

“You’re in heat, professor.” Dimitri said, wrapping his arms around her.

Byleth leaned into him. His scent was all around her.

Yes. This was what she needed.

She let out an involuntary little gasp when his hand unceremoniously dove into her shorts. The wet, squelching sound that came from her was just barely covered up by the little moans that escaped her.

“D-Dimitri… you’re so rough!” She whispered, but she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Her mind thought that she shouldn’t let this happen. But that was getting overriden by her body and just how good it felt.

She had never touched herself this roughly, but she had never felt this good so quickly. Hell, even when she’d think of him when she’d touch herself, she had never felt so excited. She had imagined his fingers inside her as they passionately kissed, kind of like he was doing now. But this was worse—better. Yes, this was better.

“Shh, it’s alright professor…” he shushed at her, rubbing his fingers around her clit. “It seems you’ll need a little more help than this, don’t you?”

More. Yes. She needed more.

“P-pleaseee…!” Byleth whined. “I need…!”

“Yes, you’ll need a lot of help,” Dimitri pulled out his hand from her shorts, but easily picked her up and held her close to him. “Your scent will cause a commotion here. But don’t worry, I’ll take you someplace far from the other alphas and omegas.”

Her scent? But she didn’t have a scent.

She was a beta. Betas don’t have scents.

She was…

Dimitri had taken her to the Goddess Tower, Byleth noticed. He took off his cape, and set it down on the floor gently, before laying her on top of it. Dimitri’s cape smelled so good. Like cedar. Like him. Byleth couldn’t resist rubbing her face on it, trying to get that scent all over her.

“Professor, you look so undignified,” Dimitri said with a smile. “I’ve barely even touched you, and yet you’re already presenting? It’s dangerous for an omega to show themselves so willing, you know. A lesser alpha would take advantage of you.”

“I’m not…” she protested weakly, turning to look at him.

That was when she realized the position she had taken. Her face was down, and her hips were up.

Omega presentation, the dusty anatomy tome in the library had called it. A courting pose made on instinct, meant to entice alphas into mating with the omega in heat.

Byleth had thought that it looked weird and kind of hard to pull off, when she saw the illustration.

And yet here she was.

“You poor thing,” Dimitri cooed at her, almost as if she were a lost kitten under the rain. His hands hooked beneath her shorts and panties, and pulled them down. “You must be so confused. This is your first heat, isn’t it, professor?”

“I don’t… I’m not supposed to be in heat—”

“But you are, professor. Look at how much slick you’ve made,” Dimitri patiently said, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to sit up.

Byleth looked down at herself, and she could indeed see that her legs were drenched with clear fluid. When Dimitri’s hand wrapped around her breast and pinched her nipple, she could see just how she practically sprayed out more slick unto the blue cape.

“But this can’t…” Byleth shook her head. The day she got her first bleeding, her body had decided that she was neither an alpha nor an omega. Once she had gone through puberty, her nature had been set in stone.

Nobody just switched presentation. That was not something that could happen.

Not as far as Byleth knew.

“You were a beta, weren’t you professor?” Dimitri helpfully wrapped his other hand around her and rubbed at her sensitive clit. “I’ve heard that in some circumstances, betas can change into either alphas or omegas.”

“Th-they can?” Byleth asked, bucking into his hand.

“Yes. There is a legend about it in Faerghus.” Dimitri said, teasing at her hole. “The story of Gwynedd and Powys. Gwynedd was a Blaiddyd alpha, and she coveted Powys, a beta woman.”

“A-an alpha woman wanted a beta woman?” Byleth asked, desperately trying to understand the point of the story.

“Yes. Back then, those of the blood of the Ten Elites were forbidden from mating with betas. Even if Gwynedd could have impregnated Powys, the old chieftains wouldn’t have accepted the union.”

Byleth whined. She really didn’t care, she just wanted to feel more of Dimitri inside her…

Dimitri chuckled when she tried to hump herself on his hand, but he wrapped the hand that wasn’t inside her around her waist, keeping her still. Try as she might, she wouldn't be able to overpower him.

“So the Goddess decided to make Powys into Gwynedd’s omega. Powys’s first heat belonged to Gwynedd, and during their mating, she freely gave herself to her alpha. They were mates from that day forth.”

Her first heat—

“What an interesting coincidence, professor,” Dimitri said. “It would seem that I managed to keep you safe from the other alphas, just when you got your first heat.”

A small voice in her cried of deceit. But before Byleth could understand what that meant, it was gone. Drowned out by the giddiness in her body.

Dimitri kept her safe. Dimitri protected her when she was confused and vulnerable. Dimitri was an alpha.

Dimitri had a knot.

She needed a knot.

If she asked, he’d give it to her, right?

“Dimitri…” she begged. “I need…”

“What do you need, Byleth?”

He used her name.

Hearing him say it against her ear made her come with a whine. She could feel herself clenching in vain around his finger.

But.

She needed more… she needed…

“Dimitriii….” She whined. “I need your knot…!”

“Oh, Byleth,” Dimitri whispered against her ear. “I can’t do that.”

“What?!” She balked. Her alpha… she dug her nails in Dimitri’s thigh, distraught at his denial. She wanted his scent on her. She needed his scent in her…! “Why not?”

“In your heat, you are at your most fertile, Byleth,” Dimitri explained. “If I give you my knot, you will get pregnant.”

Pregnant? She would…?

Byleth could see it in her mind’s eye. Her belly round with Dimitri’s child. Her tits swelling with milk. Dimitri rubbing her belly, whispering praises against her ear for being such good omega and getting bred by her alpha.

That mental image was nice, Byleth decided. She wanted it.

“I want your child,” Byleth rambled. “So please, come inside me. Come inside me as much as you can, and fill me with your knot…!”

“You want to be bred, don’t you Byleth?” Dimitri rubbed her lower belly.

It was almost exactly like the fantasy Byleth had conjured up just now, but with the important distinction that her womb was achingly empty. They had to fix that. Now.

“I do, I need you,” she nodded. “I need your knot. Please…”

“I would love to give you want you need, my beloved Byleth,” Dimitri sighed against her neck.

Byleth felt a twinge of electricity run through her body. Yes that. She needed that too!

“But I cannot allow you to be dishonored, can I?” He said, before licking her neck. “If I were your mate, nobody would be able to object to you carrying my child. But, if I mark you as mine, you will forever belong to me. Your body will never know pleasure unless I give it to you, and you will never be able to smell any other potential mate’s scent… In fact, your mind will not be able to even regret it, once the deed is done.”

A trick, a dying part in her cried out. This is what he wanted all along.

But if she accepted, she’d be his mate and being his mate meant she’d belong to him and belonging to him meant that he’d knot her over and over again and she’d carry his pups and she’d be—

A good omega, the Dimitri in her fantasy whispered against her ear.

Yes. She wanted that.

“I won’t regret it,” Byleth reassured him.

“Are you sure?” Dimitri asked, against her neck. “There will be no turning back if I continue. You will be my mate and queen. You will return to the Kingdom with me, and you’ll carry the first of our many children in our belly.”

The first of our many children.

“I-I was…” Byleth babbled. “I started to turn into an omega because of your gifts. The gifts that had your scent.”

Dimitri’s body stiffened. His rich cedar surrounded them, almost like a heavy cloud of smoke.

“My body changed because of your scent. I’m now an omega because of you,” Byleth let out a happy giggle, as it all came together. “It’s no coincidence that you were there when I first went into heat.”

“Byleth, I—”

“I’ve always belonged to you.”

Dimitri sighed in relief, nuzzling her.

“Byleth,” he breathed her in, her honeyed scent surely affecting him as much as his cedar was affecting her. “I’m so happy you’ve finally realized that.”

“Yes,” Byleth nodded, then turned to let him get to her neck. “I’m already yours… Your omega. Your mate…”

“My queen,” Dimitri breathed in deep once more, and then bit her.

Claimed. Safe. His. His. His.

Byleth came once more, her cunt pathetically clenching on nothing as it expected to be plugged up by his knot, and milking every last drop of his semen.

“Dimitri!” She cried out, her voice a half-whine of desperation and a half-scream of rapture.

“It’s alright, my beloved,” Dimitri pushed her back unto the blue cape, and rose her hips. “Let’s give your tight little omega cunt the love it deserves.”

And finally, he pushed his hot, thick cock into her aching pussy. She was so wet, that he easily sheathed himself in one fluid motion, despite the initial strain it was to take something so big. Her body wasn’t used to taking something of that size. But it was fine. She’d get used to him. He just had to keep fucking her, and she’d learn to take all of him.

“How is this, my beloved?” Dimitri asked, pressing his hand over her lower belly as he thrusted in and out.

“Good,” she moaned, because it was the only word she could think that could describe it.

She didn’t know how many times she came. But when Dimitri growled against her ear and she felt his knot strain against her entrance, she felt a great wave of relief wash over her.

Dimitri’s seed… He was filling her up.

“A-ah…” she let out a weak whimper, remembering her mate’s promise to her. “I’m a good omega… I’m a good omega that’s getting bred by her alpha…”

“Yes, you’re my omega,” Dimitri grunted, leaning forward and nipping over his bite. It was healing over into a scar that now marked her as Dimitri’s mate, forever. “My wonderful omega queen. Did you like your fertile, sweet body getting claimed by me?”

“Yes,” Byleth nodded, because it was true. “I can’t wait to be bred again.”

“Don’t worry, beloved,” Dimitri’s hand once again rubbed against her lower belly, with an almost possessive grip. “Our first child will be born in the Horsebow Moon. I’ll gift you another one, as a birthday present.”

“C-could you…” Byleth asked, burying her face into Dimitri’s cape and breathing in the scent of cedar on it. “Could you also give me another handkerchief? With your scent?”

Dimitri let out another beautiful, clear laugh.

“You won’t need that anymore,” he gently pulled out of her, and then turned her around to rest her face against his neck. “You’re always welcome to take it straight from the source, whenever you want.”

Byleth reached out, and bit.

It tasted like cedar.

[aspecselfship]

Ive got a question about the last part of your dni. (Sorry if the bit you linked to explains this more. It wasn't working for me) what constitutes a character who could be bi or pan? Is it just a character who has a canonical opposite sex/gender love interest? I only ask because I feel like any character with no love interests/stated attraction could feasibly be mspec.

I realize this sounds very nitpicky. I'm not trying to be nitpicky i just genuinely want some clarification on what "could be bi or pan" includes.

Oh don't worry about the link in that sentence, this site lacks some text editing features (to no one's surprise *stares at staff*) so I added a link to the dashboard on that just to underline the text for emphasis. I'll change the color of the text itself instead to help prevent future confusion.

But yeah, it's exactly as you've phrased in that question anon. For example, Professor Kukui from Pokemon has a canon wife: Professor Burnet. So, headcanoning him as being flat out gay and not attracted to women or feminine-presenting people at all is...highkey icky to me. (And I specifically use him as an example here because I've seen someone in the Pokemon fandom do that before.)

If a character has no canonical/heavily implied crush of some sort on another of the opposite gender/sex, or has no canon significant other of the opposite gender/sex, then anything's fair game of course. Mspec erasure just (personally) really gets on my nerves is all! Feels completely unnecessary, and depending on the instance, can feel deliberately malicious too.

[felix-lupin]

[ID Start:

Image 1: A drawing of a news reporter that resembles Kasie Hunt, giving a news report. There is writing above the panel reading "On the memory of Hind Rajab" [end quote]. The dialogue shows her speaking, saying "Hind was a woman." The rest of the dialogue is scribbles.

Image 2: Large, all caps writing reading "A woman? A woman?!" showing incredulity.

Image 3: A drawing of Hind Rajab looking into the camera with an expression of childlike innocence and happiness. She is wearing all-white clothing, a white flower crown, and a necklace with a pink charm. There is yellow light shining behind her, emphasizing the innocence of the drawing.

Image 4: All-caps writing reading "Hind Rajab was a 6 year old girl. A child. And she was murdered." 'child' and 'murdered' are underlined and bolded for emphasis.

Image 5: A drawing of a broken down car, with cracked windows and covered in blood-splatters, among city wreckage. There are text boxes with writing in them, the first reading "The last hours of her life were spent trapped in a car under fire, with the bodies of her family." [end quote] and the second reading "In one of her last calls for help, she begged,"

Image 6: [quote] "I'm so scared, please come. Come take me. Please. Will you come?" [end quote]

Image 7: [quote] "The aid workers were not allowed to go to her. And she was killed." [end quote]

Image 8: [quote] "When aid was finally sent." [end quote]

Image 9: A drawing of an aid truck, broken down and on fire. [quote] "They were killed, too." [end quote]

Image 10: [quote] "Shame on you for lying about a child's murder" [end quote]

Image 11: [quote] "And shame on every hand that took part in its making." [end quote]. The writing crowds the panel and is covered in red splatters, as if covered in blood.

Image 12: writing reading "Hind will not be forgotten" under a drawing of Hind. Her eyes are closed, almost peacefully, and she is surrounded by blue flowers/plants on a bright yellow background.

Image 13: writing reading "from the river to the sea." over a drawing of the Palestinian flag.

End ID]

On April 30th while reporting on the Students Revolution at Columbia University, CNN anchor Kasie Hunt made reference to Hind Rajab as 'A Woman Who Was Killed in Gaza." Hind Rajab was six years old.

[frxncaise]

@heircurse asked: a kiss after receiving good news .

missing her monthlies should have been the first sign. however , she only took notice when some the other telltale symptoms appeared alongside it. part of her initially chalked it up to her anxiety physically affecting her body as it had done so many times before. like so many others , a quick search online was made to appease or rather increase her fears. the majority of opinions seemed to be pregnancy. ( though some pointed to eminent death , which was not surprising when considering the state of the internet. ) choosing to believe the former , a quick trip to the drugstore occurred when him , his staff , and the tabloids least expected.

copious amounts of water intake were followed by test after test after test after test after test after ——— and all shared the same results : positive. admittedly , this was a better outcome than death. yet , the unknown begins to wreck havoc on her busy mind. this was the what was expected of her when that contract was signed a little over a year ago. although this should not have as much as a surprise as it has been , considering how amorous and less than careful the newlyweds were , it was still a bit faster than previously thought. their teams —— especially his —— would undeniably be thrilled by such an announcement. but , harry still needed to receive the news first and foremost before anyone else. after all , he is her husband and the father to their unborn child.

hoping to ease the tension , mrs osbourne had baked him one of his favourite desserts. alongside it —— but not too close for sanitary reasons —— was a note accompanied by one of her many pregnancy tests , which read : you're going to be a father. the last word was underlined to emphasis the gravity of the situation. the two sat in silence for a bit too long for her liking. and just as she was about to pipe up with some nervous prattle , he had captured her lips into a sweet kiss.

drawing away for air , angélique lingered ever so slightly from him. ❝ i guess you're happy about becoming a father, right? ❞ soft giggles lace her words. ever trembling hands reach up to gently cradle his face. ❝ i scheduled a doctor's appointment for next week , you can come along if you'd like. it's fine if you don't , i know that you're a very busy man. ❞

[universalinfo]

IMPRESS WITH PRESENTATION SKILLS LEARNED FROM HOUSTON ACTORS

Acting auditions in Houston, Texas, offer much more than you might expect. They’re not just for actors starting out. These auditions hold valuable lessons. These lessons can really boost your work presentations. How? Theater techniques make your talks more lively and impactful. Let’s explore these techniques together. We’ll see how they can transform your professional presentations. This way, your presentations will capture attention and deliver your message effectively.

Starting with the Basics: Getting to Know Your Audience

Just like actors, you need to understand your audience. In Houston’s diverse acting world, actors quickly learn to change their style for different groups. You should do the same in your presentations. First, find out who will be listening. Learn about their background and interests. What do they want to learn from you? By knowing this, you can make your talk fit their needs. This makes your message connect better and leaves a stronger impact with acting auditions houston tx.

Scripting for Success: Making Your Message Clear

In theater, scripts are carefully written. Each word matters. The same goes for your presentations. Clarity and being to the point are very important. Focus on what you really need to say. Use simple and clear sentences. This way, your audience stays interested and remembers your message better.

Rehearsals: Building Your Confidence

Actors rehearse a lot. This helps them feel sure of themselves. You should do the same with your presentations. Practice your talk several times. This will make you feel more confident. It also helps you keep track of time, improve your material, and get better at difficult parts.

Embodying the Role: Body Language and Voice Modulation

In acting, the way you express things matters as much as the words you choose. This idea holds true for presentations too. To stress your main ideas, use your body language and change your voice. Stand tall and confidently. Look your audience in the eyes. Use your hands to add emphasis. Change your voice’s tone, pitch, and speed to keep things interesting. These changes help underline your key points.

Engaging the Audience: Interaction and Response

In Houston’s lively theaters, actors are great at keeping their audience hooked. You should do the same in your presentations. Ask your audience questions. Use polls. Start discussions. This kind of interaction makes your presentation more lively. It also keeps your audience paying attention and involved.

Setting the Scene: Visual Aids and Props

In theater, visuals play a big role in storytelling. Do the same in your presentations. Use slides, charts, or even objects to back up your points. These aids make your talk more engaging. They also make it easier to explain complex ideas.

Adapting to Feedback: Flexibility and Improvisation

Actors often change their act based on how the audience reacts. You should be ready to do the same. If you see your audience losing interest, be ready to switch things up. Maybe share a related story. Or, turn to a more interactive part of your talk. Being able to adapt keeps your audience focused on what you’re saying.

Emotional Connection: Telling a Story

Top-notch actors connect emotionally with their audience. Strive for this in your presentations. Share stories or examples that are personal. Make sure these are things your audience can relate to. This emotional touch makes your presentation more impactful and memorable.

The Finale: Strong Closing

In theater, the final act leaves a lasting impression. End your presentation with a strong closing that reinforces your key message. Summarize your main points and leave your audience with a thought-provoking idea or a call to action. Finally, always seek feedback, just like actors do after auditions in Houston. Ask colleagues for their thoughts on your presentation. Use this feedback to continuously improve your skills. For more details visit us at https://exaltedarts.org/.

Conclusion

The world of acting auditions in Houston, TX, offers more than just performance techniques. It provides valuable lessons that can transform your work presentations. By understanding your audience, crafting a clear message, practicing, using effective body language, engaging your audience, utilizing visual aids, adapting to feedback, creating emotional connections, ending strongly, and continuously learning, you can elevate your presentations to new heights. These theater-inspired tips will not only make your presentations more effective but also more enjoyable for you and your audience.

Read More:Acting Potential in Houston

[danhobden]

The 10 Greatest Moments in Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You"

The new Sofia Coppola film PRISCILLA is out this month (great film btw) and playing over its final scene and closing credits is Dolly Parton's original version of "I Will Always Love You" (IWALY from here on out). I've never really paid much attention to Dolly's version before; it's a softly sung, sometimes spoken, heartbroken country ballad, a million miles away from the Whitney Houston juggernaut cover that followed. The Whitney version is unquestionably more popular and more ingrained in the public consciousness than the original at this point and also, to my ears at least, a flat-out better song.

I've been listening to Whitney's IWALY a lot this past month since I learned of the PRISCILLA nod to the original (Spotify has now wrapped so it won't be showing up on any end-of-year list), and it's interesting hearing a song that has been so ubiquitous throughout the majority of my lifetime with fresh ears, discovering subtleties I hadn't previously. And whilst it's still very easy to get caught up in the drama of it all as a whole - Whitney's voice does most of the leg work on that front - I've come to find IWALY to be a song made up of beautiful individual moments, both big and small. My 10 favourites are listed below.

Vocals (0:00) Smart choice to open for the first 40 seconds or so with no instrumentation, just Whitney's voice, one of the greatest of modern popular music.

The real kicker here, the thing that stops you dead in your tracks, is how calm and controlled she sounds; it's unrecognisable compared to the power of her voice on display in later parts of the song or throughout most of her career, feeling like an intake of breath before the real drama begins.

I, Not Always (0:45 and every other chorus) One of the most notable differences between Whitney's IWALY and Dolly's original is the choice made in the chorus: Whitney elongates the "I" in the "I will always love you" whereas Dolly puts more emphasis on the "always".

For Whitney, the "always" almost feels like an afterthought. She loves this person but will it last forever? Probably not. For the most part Dolly's lyrics suggest a higher road taken, but there are hints of acrimony running alongside this. What's important, Whitney seems to be saying, is whatever else happens from this moment is on her terms.

My Darling You (1:12) A lovely ad-lib at the end of the seemingly complete first chorus. Overcome with emotion the words carry on tumbling out.

Strings (1:14) A short but beautiful swell of strings that sweeps us into the second verse. It feels like a cap on the relative calm that has come before - things start to ramp up from here.

~Please~ Don't Cry (1:36) The way she delivers the "please" in the "...goodbye, please don't cry" lyric with such care and kindness, and the way it serves as a correction to the tossed-off, almost callous nature of the "goodbye" preceding it.

Sax Solo (2:08) You don't really hear many saxophone solos in music these days which is a great shame because this one absolutely rips. It allows Whitney and us as the audience to bask in its luxury for a while and take a much-needed beat before the big, final act.

Kirk Whalum is the musician behind it, a man with a fascinating and varied career who, according to Wikipedia, converted to Catholicism in 2022 and now works as a volunteer barber at a Catholic Worker house in Memphis, so that's nice.

JOY! (2:52) Whoever it is on the other side of this breakup Whitney is very keen for them to know that she has no hard feelings - and this moment in the song underlines the point more than any other. She very graciously wishes them joy and happiness, but the "joy" is delivered with such force, almost spat out, that I think she might be protesting a little too much. Either way, it gives me a thrill every time I hear it.

But Above All This (2:58) Not a life-changer by any means but I really love it when a singer squeezes as many syllables into a line as they can without missing a beat as happens here. There are also dozens of great examples of this in R. Kelly's "Ignition (Remix)" but, ahem, the less said about R. Kelly these days the better. It's out there if you want a listen!

Drum - Key Change - Vocal Run - Another Key Change (3:10) The big one. The most famous, recognisable moment in IWALY and arguably 20th century pop music. A real moment in the video, too: camera zooms in on Whitney's closed eyes, dramatic drumbeat, eyes open wide, camera zooms out. Simple but very effective.

The vocal range here is pretty insane. I'm assuming she breathes at some point but I'm not entirely sure when. Her ability to hit the gigantic "YOU" at the end of the run at an even higher note than before feels like it shouldn't be possible, but there it is, sustained and pitch-perfect. A real show-stopper.

The End Is Not The End (4:05) But it doesn't quite end there. Another reminder in case the listener had forgotten: "I will always love you." That final "you" hangs around for an eternity until Whitney finally has nothing else left to say and it fades out to silence.