#I'll still workshop some stuffs

[vesselreborn]

I keep thinking about a Miyako that's finally found her way out of the loop.

A Miyako that finally burned and buries all those who've wronged her. A Miyako that had to sacrifice the last few ties that helped her rebel and push to make and be something of herself in order to break said loop. A Miyako who's constantly fighting on finding those ties and feeling whole again or dreading something more wicked would be just around the corner if she tries, and it would drag them with her. A Miyako who's finally gaining her first breath of freedom, and she's at a complete loss on where or what to do.

A Miyako who's now surrounded by sights unknown to her, with people all over, with senses overwhelmed by how different it all is. A Miyako who's surrounded by such, still managing to feel just as alone in this mass than the small shut-in room back at the village.

A Miyako that spent so much energy and focus on her goal that, now that she's reached it, doesn't know how to spend such freedom. It's much less bright than she imagined, much less joyful, with no one but Kereb by her side.

[chaotictomtom]

kinda on the verge of crying because i thought too much abt my future and how i really wanna do this job. staging at that place really opened my eyes and everything clicked but now i'm terrified i won't be able to do this great job that is perfectly fit for me and it will break me. wahhwah

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗦 ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Thank you so much for the support on the first oneshot, this is mostly fluff because I have to heal the wounds in my heart that arc two left behind.

୨୧ I'm still learning how to use masterlists and stuff (😿) but you can send me requests if you want! For now I'm only going to write about Ekko (or until I learn how to use tumblr) then I'll post the list of characters I could write for.

୨୧ Inspired by some headcanons of @blllllllllllllllllllue

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The Firelights’ hideout always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but your little corner was a chaos. It was where you crafted, creating not just the masks that symbolized your rebellion but tiny pieces of identity for your comrades.

"Something like this?" you asked, holding up a rough sketch for the recruit seated across from you. He was new to the team and still shy around most people, but with you, he seemed to relax, likely due to your welcoming demeanor.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, leaning in to inspect it. "But, uh, could you make the eyes a little bigger? I want it to look more… intense."

“Intense. Got it.” You jotted down the adjustment in the margins, smiling as you worked. “Anything else?”

The recruit hesitated for a moment before glancing at you sheepishly. “So, uh, are you Ekko’s girl? Like… his girlfriend?”

The question caught you so off guard that the pencil slipped from your fingers. Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrambled to compose yourself.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean—yes. I am.”

The recruit grinned.

“Thought so. He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart did a funny little flip, equal parts warmth and embarrassment.

“He does?”

“Yeah. Like, a lot. You’d think you hung the moon or something”

The boy’s teasing tone made you flush deeper. Before you could decide whether to be mortified or flattered, another voice broke through.

“Hey! Ekko’s looking for you!” A little boy poked his head in the door, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting. “Said it’s important.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You turned back to the recruit, already rising to your feet. “I’ve got everything I need for your mask. I’ll start on it soon.”

“Take your time,” he replied, giving you a knowing look as you walked out.

He nodded, and with a small wave, you left the workshop and made your way to Ekko’s space.

The closer you got to Ekko’s workshop, the quieter the base became, the energy from the rest of the Firelights retreating into the distance. You pushed the door open cautiously, only to find the room eerily calm. The usual clatter of tools and the whir of machinery were absent.

When you stepped inside the workshop, the quiet was almost eerie. Tools and half-built gadgets lay scattered across Ekko’s workbench, but there was no sign of him.

“Ekko?” you called, glancing around.

No answer.

A small knot of worry tightened in your chest.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny—”

Before you could finish, arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground. You let out a startled yelp as you were spun around, your voice mixing with laughter that bubbled up despite yourself.

“Ekko!” you cried, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably as he set you down, his grin impossibly wide. “You scared the life out of me, you jerk!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he admitted, still chuckling. His voice carried that familiar mix of playfulness and warmth that always made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You swatted at his arm, trying to suppress a smile.

“What did you need me for, anyway? And don’t say it was just to scare me.”

“Relax, Firefly,” he teased, stepping back. “I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“If this is another prank—”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. Just trust me.”

After a brief hesitation, you sighed and shut your eyes.

“Okay, but if you throw something at me—”

“Shh. No peeking.”

You heard him moving around, the soft clang of metal and the scrape of something being picked up. Your curiosity burned, but you kept your eyes closed, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.

“Alright,” Ekko said finally. “Open.”

When you did, your breath caught. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers—each one was intricately crafted from scrap metal, their petals shaped and welded together with incredible precision. They shimmered faintly in the light, their edges polished to a soft gleam.

“I made these for you,” Ekko said, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react. His smile, though, was radiant, the little gap in his front teeth only adding to its charm. “You like them?”

“Like them?” you echoed, reaching out to take the bouquet. “Ekko, they’re beautiful. You made these?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking both proud and bashful.

“Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate something… different. Real flowers don’t last long down here”

You turned the bouquet in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. Each flower was unique, and the care he’d put into them was evident in every detail. Your chest felt tight with emotion as you looked back at him.

“Why, though? What’s the occasion?”

Ekko’s grin returned, mischievous but endearing.

“The right way to ask my girlfriend out on a date. Tonight.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

“A date?”

“Yeah. Thought it was time we did something just for us. No missions. Just you and me.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. “So, what do you say?”

A warm, fuzzy silence hung between you, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes tying your tongue. Your gaze flicked to his lips, the same thought clearly mirrored in his mind as he leaned closer.

The moment stretched as the world outside seemed to blur and fade. Just as your lips were about to meet—

“Oh, uh, sorry!”

Both you and Ekko jumped apart as the recruit from earlier barged in, a sheepish look on his face.

“I just—uh—I had another idea for the mask and thought—”

Ekko sighed loudly, his previous grumpiness overtaking his usual charm.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll just—uh—leave” the recruit stammered, already retreating back through the door.

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “We can talk about it later.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away as you stepped back.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?”

Ekko’s pout was almost comical.

“You owe me, Firefly.”

As you turned to leave, you blew him a playful kiss. Ekko grinned, pretending to catch it in midair and press it to his chest.

“See you later.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[sensiblereblogifposts]

A while ago, I posted a petition, to stop the closing of a much loved museum, Syndeys Powerhouse museum, a place that's been under threat for years.

I need your help with this once again, (especially if you are an Aussie)

After years of threatening to close down and demolish our only science, tech and applied arts museum, and one attempt to turn it into an events center, they've come back with another plan, which basically amounts to "we're going to clear out the museum and demolish most of the structures inside. We definitely have a plan to put some cool stuff back, but we can't tell you it, but it's definitely gonna be great. Don't mind that a bunch of purpose built structures to display delicate objects are set to be demolished."

(That's an F1 Apollo rocket engine, very rare outside the USA. Almost 60 years old, now delicate, but it's going.)

"We've garunteed 3 of the most iconic items (not their accompanying collections) will come back. Pay no mind that we haven't allowed for where they're gonna go, or that the one object we can't move (rare, 250 year old working Boulton and Watts steam engine) is set to end up inside a corridor)

(There used to be room, elevated planforms even)

"Oh, also, you know that museum storage hall, so close by and practical, with a loading dock and workshops, that's also sitting on prime real estate? We're building a second loading dock and workshops in the main museum! Right where the all classrooms where!"

It's supposedly a heritage restoration, but in truth, it's based of a skewed heritage report which has been heavily criticised as I'll informed, and rigged to allow the place's removal.

Almost every detail goes against the spirit of the original musuem. The orginal museum was a fun, post modern place with a sciencey vibe,

Which transitioned fluidly into historic halls, with historic products and technology to match

The Musuem has an upper entrance designed to be welcoming, full of natural light, and evoke the feel of an old grand train station. This is to be bricked up.

Rather than restore the older galleries, theyre taking several of them out reducing display space from about 15,000m²ish to about 6000m² ish.

The historic halls included restored generator room filler with steam engines. This really put the museum on the map.

But that's going.

All that is going, in favour of

This kind of thing.

The plan to do this is on display untill end of may May 30th, Aussie time. It would help a lot if you (might be only Australians) log on and make a short comment opposing the project:

A lot more commentary on the project can be found at:

@protecpowerhous on Twitter

Or if you cant make a submission, and still haven't, please sign that petition:

The people reporting to government planning will be see it, and attention helps.

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Pretty thing♡

As a manga reader, tears started running down my legs when I saw haganezuka's face revealed 😍 here's some haganezuka smut for yall

Warnings: fem!reader, reader is mentioned to be haganezuka's girlfriend, chubby/muscular reader, mention of stretch marks, smut, caught masturbating, virginity loss, love making to rough fucking, cervix fucking(?)

"Y/n. Serious question. How did you even manage to catch haganezuka's eye?" One of the men asked at your table. "I have to know as well. I've never seen the man take any interest other than a sword. That and working out, " the other man said.

Even though those things were true for haganezuka, you couldn't help but laugh at how others can say that out loud. However, it was different for you. What caught his attention was that you are a woman. Not because he hasn't been around women or anything, but you are a woman who loves to create swords almost on the same level as him which is what caught his attention.

Haganezuka would mention how you were a distraction to his work since he said, "You're so beautiful when you create swords. i might just make a mistake with mine!" He basically confessed. He found you very attractive physically, too, with your pretty face and your chubby figure, but will maintain muscles in your arms from the sword making.

"Come now, even you can bond with the man if you spend time in his work shop and have a talk with him," you chuckled "nah I've done that. I straight up got ignored. " The other man sighed, and you laughed "he dose mean well. He takes great pride in his work, and I really admire that, and he still takes care of himself, which is good as well! Spending time with him in the work shop and getting to have him snuggled up with me at night after a longs day of work is all I need from him" you smiled and the men around you looked in aw at your wholesome words.

After lunch break, you headed back to the workshop. Before greeting your beloved boyfriend, you see him, Angerly packing some stuff up without his shirt on. You sighed and put your hand on your hip. "Let me guess. That Kamado boy broke his sword again, huh?" You chuckled. "I'm going to kill him! Dead! How dare he break MY sword! I'm going to throw his sister in the daylight for this!" He said and rushed out, stomping in anger.

You cleared your throat, making haganezuka stop, and then came back to you. He gave you a hug and then left. "I'll see you soon! Be safe!" You waved.

It's been hours now since he left. You've been in the shop finishing up the sword for three swordsmen and sighed in satisfaction. "Yes. Final sword for the day. For once, I'm happy to be finished, and I can rest now, " you said and sat down on your chair. You looked up at the ceiling. "He looked so handsome without his shirt on... really handsome, " you said, bitting your bottom lip with your legs starting to rub against each other.

You couldn't stop your dirty thoughts, and you didn't think you could make it home given your current state to take care of yourself. You went to wash your hands off and went back to your chair, pulling your pants down to rub at your clit over your panties. "haa... I wish he knew the things he did to me when he's shirtless like that.." Your head falls back, letting out soft moans. You felt yourself getting wet, feeling the wet spot already on your panties.

"Unbelievable!" Haganezuka yelled and kicked the door open. "y/n this child had the nerve to apologize after breaking... my..." haganezuka started to lose his train of words by seeing your back turned to him, sitting on the chair and your pants down to your ankles, making out what he just walked in on.

You gasped, holding your legs to your chest and resting your head on your knees to hide your shame. "I-... okay, listen - ahh, I can't explain myself! Just!!!" You choke onnyour words, not being able to explain yourself. "ok, go back outside, come back in. I'll be dressed, and you can pretend you didn't see anything, " you said.

Haganezuka just stood there for a few seconds before shutting the door. "Go back outside? Why? How come you're doing this without me?" He asked, almost mad and took his mask off. You turn your head looking at haganezuka, confused at his question, "I'm sorry... what do you mean?" You asked

"I'm your boyfriend. I should help you with this, right!? I have knowledge on what to do, " he said, coming closer to you, but you hide your face him, making him stop. "y-you don't "have" to. it's just... well... " You stopped once you felt two large hands caress your shoulders. "I didn't say that because I "should" help you. I said that because I want to damnit. How long have you done with when I'm not here?" He asked curiously but almost upset

"Just.. when I feel like it. Or when I have time to myself. Please don't be mad, I've never asked you because we are so busy with making swords and I know how much you dislike when people interpret your time making swords" you look back at him with puppy eyes. Haganezuka leans down and kisses your forehead. "I do hate it, but if it's my own girlfriend? I allow it... for 3 minutes, " he said, making you both laugh. "I'm serious though," he said in a serious tone. "I know you are" you smiled.

"Okay, cover up now. Let's go. " Haganezuka took his kimono off and put it on your legs, picking you up from the chair. You held onto him quickly. "You're an idiot for not coming to me sooner about this. However... I will take care of this since it's my fault for not noticing the pleasure you needed. It's your first time, so don't think we are doing something like this in my precious work shop, " he said, carrying you and walking out.

"we are having sex at our house!" He loudly announced. "Shut up!" You covered his mouth, almost fighting him. "What is wrong with you!? Don't say that out loud!!!!"

Haganezuka had you on the bed underneath him, naked and kissing you more passionately than ever. Your hands grab on his broad back, feeling his muscles and his warm skin and feeling his tounge swirl sound yours in your mouth.

His hands grab your hips, fitting himself between your thighs to close the gap between the two of you. Haganezuka pulled back "is this okay?" He asked and you nodded, using your hands to cover your exposed boobs. He chuckles at your shynes. "Your body is beautiful. I love it, your stretch marks are very pretty too" he praises as his fingers touch your stretch marks, tracing them out and his fingers lightly touching your lower stomach making you tremble a little from the ticklish feeling "can I touch you more?"

He asked so sweetly, much sweeter than ever you just couldn't say no to him. You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling his lips press on your neck, giving your neck soft, gentle kisses. His fingers trail down to your bare pussy, rubbing your clit in a circular motion. "You're wet. Are you still wet because you couldn't finish when i walked in on you?" Haganezuka said, giving your neck love bites.

You could feel his smirk on your neck at the question he asked. You didn't answer and only turned your head away in embarrassment. "Don't say that," you whispered with soft whimpers getting hotter from his touch. "Fine. Don't answer, " he said, kissing down your neck to your collar bone, giving it love bites, and then getting to your nipple.

Haganezuka moved your hands out of the way to see your boobs. His face was flushed. He didn't know how he eles to appreciate your beautiful body with words and just took action and started to take your nipple in his mouth. "Haganezuka~" you moaned, feeling his warm wet tongue and lips wrap around your harden nipples

He kept eye contact with you. Whenever you wanted to look away, he used his teeth to bite on your nipple making you mewl. haganezuka's fingers moved down frkm your clit to your hole and put one finger in, moving it slowly. "H-haganezuka, please~" you begged, wanting more

"Have you forgotten patience?" he kisses your stomach. "I need to take my time with you. I can't do this right if I'm not focused, right?" he said, and you both chuckle since it's something he says when making swords perfectly, but he's trying to make you as comfortable with him in the moment as much as he can

Haganezuka kisses your inner thigh, holding onto your thighs. "Can you be patient for me?" He asked, looking at you with such lustful eyes. "Yes," you bit your lip with a shy smile. Haganezuka smirked "that's my girl" he stuck his tounge out, giving your pussy a long lick, tasting you and keeping his eyes focused on you.

Your back arches, and you gasp from the feeling. "Oh my gosh~" you whispered to yourself, grabbing onto the bed sheets as you kept feeling his long, wet licks on your pussy. You couldn't hold back your moans, your whimpers and your hips from bucking in his face when he starts to fuck on his clit. You felt haganezuka enter another finger inside, and you grab onto his hair, clenching on his fingers.

Haganezuka bottomed out, loving how your hips push your pussy onto his tounge and moaned from the feeling of you clenching on his fingers. He fucks his fingers into faster, now adding a third finger trying to find your g spot. Your body jolts when you feel his fingers hit your spot, grabbing onto his hair. "Right there! Right there, right there!" You whine, covering his fingers with your white fluids.

Haganezuka waited until he calmed down from your high and then pulled his fingers out. He watched as your pussy throbbed and gulped "y/n. I need you now, can I put it inside you now? he asked, almost desperate with heavy breathes with his hand over his pants and then started to take them off, exposing his cock with pre cum leaking from it.

Your eyes widen from the size. He was a good size in length but the thickness of his cock was much bigger then you expected even with his huge, musclar build. "Haganezuka.." you say opening your legs more and using your fingers to spread open your pussy "I need you so badly. Put it inside slowly, okay?" Looked at him.

"Y/n~" Haganezuka moaned your name sliding his thick cock between your wet folds and then pushes it inside you, slowly forcing it in "y-y/n~ haa fuck you're so tight". You let out a loud gasp, holding onto his biceps tightly "just a little more~" he moaned grabbing your legs to spread you out more to be fully inside you. "Are you okay?" Haganezuka asked

You nod quickly, bitting your lip whimpering softly being a full of his cock you his tip already poking at your spot. "Y-you can move now" you said. Haganezuka starts to thrust his hips slowly, breathing heavy and shuts his eyes with his brows frowned together to hold himself back. "You're so tight, so tight~ and we wet. You won't let me go with how hard your pussy is clinging onto me" he said, rubbing his thumb on your clit.

"F-fuuck~ ha-haganezuka. Go harder, go faster, " you whispers, wrapping your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. "You sure? You want me to fuck you harder like this?" Haganezuka let's out broken moans as his hips snap, fucking you faster, bullying your cervix with his tip

You moaned, loudly almost screaming from how rough he got and pushing your leg back to your chest "you feels good. s-so good~ really good. Your moans sound so pretty" he said with broken moans "I'm gonna cum. Fuck I can feel how much wetter your getting, cum for me y/n" Haganezuka holds your boobs together and sucks on your nipples while snapping his hips harder and harder.

"Haganezuka~!" You whined as you tremble from your sensitive nipples being sucked and his tip repeatedly hitting your spot. You gripped onto the sheets, looking at him with teary eyes. "haganezuka!! I'm cumming I'm cumming!" Your head went back, moaning loudly creaming on his cock.

"Y/n" he moaned, his thrust getting more sloppy until he gasped, cumming a little inside you and pulling his cock out of you cumming the rest on your pussy "you were squeezing me so tightly I couldn't pull out in time. Sorry, " he said, looking at you concerned.

You shook your head, breathing heavy from your intense orgasm and weakly reached out to cup his handsome face. "Don't worry about it. I was hoping you'd cum inside me though" you grinned.

Haganezuka narrows his eyes and leans closer to your face. "we have all night, I'll fill you up as much as you'd like. My pretty girl"

[sirdindjarin]

The Concession - Din Djarin x f!Reader

gif from @rebeljyn 's gifset here

Din Djarin falls in love. Whoops.

The Savior / The Concession / The Choice (END)

AO3 Link

TAGS: S2 Din Djarin, "Who Did This to You?", P in V, Unprotected Sex w/o consequences because who likes those, m!Masturbation, Fluff, Pining, touch-starved!Din, helmet-less!Din, soft!Din, protective!Din, Grogu bein a sweet shit.

WARNINGS: Star Wars cursing/slang which I know annoys some people lmao, abusive shopkeepers.

A/N: "Shit" is Star Wars canon (thank you, Andor); Din is a groaner (Chapter 5 of TBOBF); & Din is a bit of a poet (thanks pledge to Bo-Katan in Chapter 23); I have cited my sources LOL.

"No," the Mandalorian snaps. "No droids." 

A gloved hand flies to his holster and the rusty pit droids screech to a halt, beeping nervously.

Leaning against the frame of the Razor Crest, at the top of the boarding ramp, you roll your eyes at Din Djarin's back. His distaste for droids had been made clear to you the first time he'd stopped for parts.

Those droids had been considerably less polite about Din’s preference, and he had taken too much pleasure in enforcing it.

"Listen, buddy, they're my refueling dr-"

"Then I'll take my business elsewhere."

The attendant sighs loudly, glaring at the Mandalorian. The skinny, maroon male with a fin-shaped head rises from his chair behind his workshop desk. He walks toward a shaking pit droid and grabs the refueler.

"It'll cost you extra," the attendant's eye-stalks narrow at the bounty hunter.

Din comes to an agreement with the disgruntled worker, sullenly agreeing to a slightly higher rate.

As the Mandalorian keeps watch over his ship, your footsteps clang down the steep ramp, and you sidle up to him, saying, "We need some things. Ration packs are gone. And - don't tell him -" your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, "But I think Grogu deserves a treat." 

"He would agree with you.” Din’s elbow brushes your shoulder, and he realizes he’d leaned closer as you spoke.

You continue, “And you need something to relax.” 

At that, Din’s helmet turns. “I do not.” 

“You’re even more impatient than usual. You’re on an anti-droid campaign; the last time we stopped, you threatened to yank out one’s navigator circuits just for bumping your foot.” You look up at him, raising a teasing eyebrow. 

The Mandalorian goes as still as one of those droids he had deactivated. His intimidating, T-shaped slit brands into your vision. Behind it, you know he’s boring holes into your face. 

“Alright. Nothing for you, then.”

Your shoulders drop when you turn away from him, almost relieved to be out from underneath his piercing, hidden gaze. 

The Mandalorian had paid you a few days before, and this was your first real opportunity to spend your own money. You can’t stop smiling, even as you place the kid in his white pod and stuff your pocket with your credits. Grogu is as excited as you are - giggling in his quiet way.

As you pass the statue of Din Djarin, he extends a closed fist. Obediently, you hold out your hand. The tan-hide fingers of his gloves open and credits fall, clinking. You look up questioningly at him.

“For the food. Your wages are not meant to be spent on communal necessities.”

 Your lips curve into a lopsided, sweet smile that Din immediately commits to memory, and you nod.

Turning to Grogu, his fuzzy ears perked and eyes wide, you ask, “Ready, kid?”

***

The marketplace is huge. Stretching the length of the entire square, it’s busy for a planet this remote, but the size increases the options. 

Grogu floats along beside you, and you keep one hand on the lip of the pod, just to be safe. The responsibility of the kid is the greatest charge you’ve ever been given, in more ways than one. Grogu often holds your hand or squeaks to get your attention to point at something glowing or stinky or flashing. His outright affection is a lamp to your lonely heart. 

After visiting several vendors, you’ve resupplied what was necessary (with credits left over), and now you move on to something for Grogu. You’d be buying that with your own wages. Din could say whatever he liked, but what else do you have to spend your money on except the cute baby?

You walk past a booth advertising repair supplies, but when you realize it’s for clothing repair, something clicks in your brain. Grogu’s ears flop forward with your sudden stop. Your eyes run over the objects, and you select some, a smile splitting your face. You hope he will be pleased.

Several minutes later, Grogu makes a bah! sound, pointing at a live amphibian display. You’re pretty sure it’s a pet vendor, but the look on the kid’s face tells you he won’t take no for an answer. And maybe you should parent him - tell him no - but that’s Din’s job, not yours. 

“Hi. How much for the frog eggs?” You politely ask the vendor, digging in your pocket for credits.

The bug-eyed lady tells you in a language you don’t speak, but she holds up three short tentacles on her hand. She pushes six eggs toward you, which you gratefully take and set in Grogu’s pod. 

When you try to hand her the credits, she’s pushed out of the way by someone behind her. A man with a smushed nose yells in the same language the lady had spoken, and points away, clearly telling her to leave. 

You watch warily, and once the woman has gone, the man turns to you. 

“My apologies. The price is one credit per egg,” he simpers at you. 

Disliking the hike in price, you move to return half of the eggs, but he protests, “Once the item has left my possession, they must be paid for.” 

“But I can give them back to you,” you assert. “I’m not paying that much for frog eggs.” 

His smushed nose twitches up like a feral Loth-wolf, “Yes, you are.”

"I'm not." You set three eggs back on the counter. 

The man seizes your wrists, holding you in place. The crowded market is loud, but your indignant cry and the vendor's screamed accusation of theft cause several people to stop and watch. 

You try to twist out of his hold, but his scaly skin tears at yours. The snarling vendor suddenly ceases making noise, and he releases your wrists to clutch at his throat. Shocked, your head snaps to the child.

Grogu has one little, three-fingered hand raised and curled. 

“No!” You gasp, slamming the button on Grogu’s pod to close it. Far, far too many eyes watch. 

The vendor, choking and sputtering, recovers quickly and lunges at you across the table. His hands grip your upper arms, but you wrench out of his hold. Hoping to draw all attention to yourself, you punch the vendor with all your might. The vendor stumbles.

“Never seen someone pretend to choke over three credits,” your lie is an incredibly lame one, but you hope it’s enough for passersby.

He clutches his jaw; his spat insult is garbled, and he begins to inch around the long table, trying to get a better shot at you.

You turn and walk away with as even a pace as you can manage. Running would make his accusation true. The crowd swallows the two of you up well, and you lengthen your stride.

 But the vendor is regaining his volume. Nervously, you check over your shoulder. You jolt when Grogu’s pod bumps into your hip, then zooms away.

“No,” you yell again, grasping for the white vessel, but it comes to a hovering stop in front of a tall, silver man.

“Thank the Maker,” you sigh with relief. “We have to go.”

Din immediately notices the red ring of heat around your wrists and along your knuckles. He strides toward you. The closer he gets, the safer you feel - his protective aura slowly engulfing you.  

Din grabs your forearm and examines your wrist. There’s a raw quality to your skin where the man’s abrasive hands had clamped down and twisted. After a moment, his face locks onto yours.

“Show me who did this."

Cold, calm, his words are a promise.

Confused by his reaction, and still so used to answering when asked a direct question, you wince over your shoulder. Din finally seems to hear the vendor shouting in the distance as he searches the crowd for a ‘thief’ and her ‘dangerous pet’. Din abruptly straightens and steps past you.

Running after him, you reach for his gloved hand, fingers sliding home. “Din, please; we need to go.” 

The familiar contact makes him stop and turn to look at you. He says nothing, so you use the opportunity to explain.

“The ki- I made a scene, and it would be best if everyone forgot about it. A Mandalorian publicly roughing up the very same shopkeeper would give them more reason to gossip.” 

Din Djarin frowns the longer you speak. He knows you’re right. The kid is far more important than his sudden anger. He nods curtly.

The man’s vicious insults about your likely occupation and parentage echo down the street and make Din’s lip curl. But for the sake of the child, he manages to turn back toward the Razor Crest. It’s only when he passes Grogu’s stationary pod that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, fingers loosely intertwined. 

He gently flexes his hand, letting go.

____________________________________

As the Razor Crest speeds away from the planet, you smile. Vacuous and bone-chillingly cold, space is the worst. For most of your life, the inhospitable conditions had been worsened by your constant transport in the dark hold of some Creator-forsaken vessel.

But the cabin of the Mandalorian’s ship is warm and full of life, occupied by the kid's excited babbling and your semi-nervous laughter.

The kid waves his stubby arms in the Mandalorian’s lap as the Razor Crest dips and rises through a relatively calm asteroid field. Expertly maneuvering the expanse, Din Djarin has little motivation to do so except the smiles on his passengers’ faces. If you ask, he’ll tell you it’s a shortcut to the next system, which is only mostly untrue.

It’s been three months since Din collected the bounty on your former master. During that time, the Mandalorian had found one of the kid’s kind. A Jedi who could’ve taken Grogu, she declined the task. She told the bounty hunter of a place, a Seeing Stone, where Grogu could reach out for a Jedi master himself. 

Though a week has passed since learning of the Stone, Din had yet to bring Grogu to it, instead taking a couple of jobs. The stoic Mandalorian won’t admit, especially to himself, that he’s reluctant to let the child go. 

Reaching a lull in the slow-moving asteroids, Din draws the thruster back to stationary level, then looks down, his helmet nearly touching his breastplate, at the child still waving his short arms. Din turns his silver face to you questioningly.

Before he can speak, you joke, "I don’t want to learn to fly out here, if that's what you're about to ask.”

He shrugs with acceptance. Your eyebrows pinch in surprise, wondering if he’s playing along or serious.

“Okay, kid. We're done here,” he tenderly lifts Grogu and passes him to you. 

Grogu makes a protesting sound and hides one of his hands inside his robe.

“Big, mean Mandalorian is no fun,” you mutter to the child teasingly. Grogu coos in agreement.

Din shakes his head and swivels back to the control panel, flipping switches and entering data. The kid catches your attention, triumphantly showcasing a small metal sphere from his robe. You press your lips together and wink, silently promising you won’t tell. 

The Mandalorian’s gloved fingers run over his ship’s control panel like he’s conducting the Coruscant Orchestra, and then, suddenly, his right hand freezes in mid-air as he reaches for the thruster. 

“Grogu,” Din growls, spinning in his chair.

You laugh openly, “He’s a toddler, Din. You can’t close your eyes for a second.”

The Mandalorian rises, his bulk taking up the entirety of the cabin. He gently wrestles the ball from Grogu's fingers.

Long, soft ears droop, and massive, black eyes turn glassy. 

“Oh, look what you've done,” you croon, looking up at Din with an expression mirroring the kid’s.

Though he doesn't move, you can somehow see when Din’s annoyance is overruled by something stronger. Then the Mandalorian’s wide shoulders slowly rise and fall, a long-suffering sigh leaving his body.

“You are both menaces,” the Mandalorian accuses. He extends his hand, palm upward, “Grogu. Take it.” 

You hold your breath, allowing the child to focus on using his power. Grogu closes his eyes. The metal ball wiggles in the concave of Din’s large palm, then zooms to Grogu’s tiny hand.

Din makes a fist in excitement, “Great job, kid.”

Beaming at the Mandalorian, even more enthralled with him than the magic child in your lap, you wish you could see his proud smile.

Noticing your expression, Din's chin swivels to the side, clearly questioning. 

"Nothing. It's just that - it’s good to see you like this.” You shrug, trying to minimize your staring. “I know you’ve been stressed.”

The silent moment draws out as he assesses your observation. Still standing, the Mandalorian’s right hand hesitantly rises to whisper across the left side of your jaw. The gloved softness of his thumb caresses your cheekbone for an instant and a lifetime.

Din drops his hand like it weighs as much as a rancor. He turns around and sits back in his pilot's chair. Silver armor reflects the red and yellow lights around the cabin as he finishes his navigational procedures. 

Cheeks aflame, you duck your face down into the kid. 

___________________________________

“‘Occasional repairs,’’' you quote at the Mandalorian. “Every karking week there’s a new hole in this poor ship.” 

On the other side of the wing, busy soldering panels together, the Mandalorian's head snaps up. Unmoving, his expressionless mask simply stares at you. You bite your lip to prevent a grin and continue replacing bolts.

The beskar helmet remains for a while longer, hiding Din’s thoughts. He imagines what you’d look like if he put you on your knees and made you pay for your jokes. If he wiped that pretty smirk off your face. He feels a stirring in his flight suit, so he wrenches his mind away. 

The act the two of you committed in that field has not been repeated. His dedication to his helmet - to his creed - is paramount. And you tempt him too much. 

For the second time in the past year, Din has accidentally grown attached to someone - first the kid and now you. But with you, it’s a danger of a different kind.

Din had hoped that he just needed to get it out of his system. Get you out of his system. He had won that mock fight in the field, but he had yielded to his desire for you. 

Instead of feeling sated, Din feels hungrier as the days go by. Useless information, such as the number of sonic showers you've taken, clogs his mind. He would be ashamed of his counting, but he's too battle-weary to care. He does not count how many times he's taken advantage of the privacy of his bunk, remembering your eager face, your receptive body underneath him. 

All that armor wasn't worth a damn thing.

It’s easier for you. As inexperienced as Din but with your self-esteem already in the sarlacc pit, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he'd had his fill of you and… well, that was that. Though you dream of it nearly every night, waking up to the strange feeling of both gaining and losing something.

Of course, the Mandalorian still needed you to care for the kid or help him replace several wing panels when he inevitably damaged them, as you were currently doing. 

At dusk, white trees sway behind you in the biting wind. This planet is rather cold, and Grogu, asleep inside the Razor Crest, doesn’t join you for the lovely, young Gornt dinner that Din had hunted. The two of you butcher it in silence and place it on the makeshift spit.

You then plop onto a log and snuggle down into your clothes, shivering. Though the items Din had given you months earlier are sturdy and warm, some of the chill of the night manages to seep through. You cross your arms, rubbing them.

Din vanishes from the other side of the fire - the smoky, dark air impenetrable. Squinting, you try to spot his reflective armor, but it works against you in this instance, easily blending him into the flickering, dim light.

A heavy material suddenly falls onto your shoulders, and you jump.

"Oh!" 

The Mandalorian stands directly behind you, the thick cloak he was trying to give you still partially in his hand. 

"I was focused on trying to see you through the smoke. I didn't think you'd be there." You clutch the brown garment tight around you and softly smile up at him, "Thank you."

Din nods, the clinking sound of metal audible as he returns to his log across the firelight. Your mouth gapes for a moment when you realize that the material around your shoulders is his torn cape.

"Do you not get cold?"

"I do." 

"Why not wear one yourself then?" You lift part of the cloak in indication.

"Mandalorians are taught to withstand uncomfortable circumstances. As a foundling, I frequently exercised in far less temperate weather." 

"A foundling?" You query, your eyebrow raising.

The Mandalorian leans back and shifts his legs apart to better distribute his weight.

"My youth was upended by war. When my village was destroyed, I was found by a Mandalorian."

"The name is quite literal, then?" 

"My people are quite literal," Din crosses his arms and his commanding presence is distracting.

He looks so big sitting on the log, his legs open, back straight, and arms folded. 

"We have similar beginnings," you swallow, trying to ignore the burning inside that has nothing to do with the fire.

"I was a little more fortunate in who found me," Din states. He leans forward to finally adjust the rod holding your dinner.

You lose your gaze in the flaming light, remembering.  

“I still can’t believe how much things have changed,” you murmur. 

Din Djarin can’t either. He has a life-altering decision to make, and a child to let go of, and both thoughts weigh on him like a karking Mudhorn. Din sighs internally at his unintended choice of simile.

Your eyes stray upward to the navy sky, breathing deeply. The frigid air burns your lungs, but you only draw more in, relishing your freedom to do so.

"You did not deserve that life," Din’s rough, mechanical voice answers over the sound of the crackling fire. 

You frown, "No one does." 

Running with the Mandalorian was a great way to stay ahead of the slavers. Paid employment, constant movement, and no one besides Din knowing your name - it was too good to be true.

Dropping your head from the sky, you level the Mandalorian with the most heartfelt gaze you can manage, "Thank you. I would've never had the courage to run without you."

Unable to see his reaction, you feel the distance most acutely. It isn't just flame and metal that divides you.

"I-" Din starts, but you cut him off.

"But mostly it's thanks to Grogu," you grin, trying to lighten the mood.

The helmet bobs as though he's amused, then Din sighs dramatically. 

"I need to separate you two."

"I love him," you giggle, remembering a moment a few days earlier when he had picked up a very dignified, sentient species of frog and tried to eat it. "He is such an agent of chaos." You laugh into your cloak-covered hand. 

Grateful that you can't see the fervent emotion glimmering in his brown eyes, Din studies you. Your fond smile is lit by the glowing fire and the cold winds blow redness into your cheeks and nose. You’re secure in his cloak, and it makes his chest ache.

"Shit," he breathes. The hiss through his modulator doesn't pick up the word well, to his relief. 

It's not a surprise if you do truly love the kid. He is adorable and you've been with him every waking moment for three months, but the word you've just introduced is jarring to Din.

Talking about Grogu brings the dangers you all face to the forefront of your mind. Your smile falls.

"Will you continue to teach me to fight?" You don't immediately register the sudden rigidity of Din's posture, so you press on, "It’s upsetting to me that I'm better with a blaster than with the skills I was taught and trained in by my family." 

The Mandalorian is relieved. You've given him an excuse to say no.

"I cannot teach you the methods of your people." 

“That’s alright; anything would be appreciated.” 

Din shifts his thigh on the log, agitated, and you struggle to fill the silence, “You don’t have to, of course.”

Then, as the silence lengthens, and you watch his helmet glint as he looks away, you realize what he must be so uncomfortable about. 

“Oh. I am not asking we repeat that. I’m sorry,” you raise a hand to chest height as if you’re trying to physically defend yourself from the awkwardness. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” 

“I- Din, really I only meant the…” you grimace and clamp your lips together, unable to bear the tension. Standing, you insist, “I swear to you, I never expected more.”

Forgetting to return his cape, you unconsciously hold it closer as you retreat into the Razor Crest. 

The Mandalorian does not watch you walk away. His conflicted eyes remain trained on the crackling fire. Sparring with you brings every heart tug, every little attraction he has to you to the surface, and that's too frustrating to manage while IMPs track him and he deals with letting go of Grogu. 

But Din knows he really should continue to teach you. It’s in your best interest, as well as Grogu’s. His hangup is entirely selfish, and Din is not a selfish man. 

***

Hours later, when the sun has started to rise once more on this short-cycle planet, the Mandalorian finds his brown cape hung on the door to the refresher. He jerks it off its resting place, and goes to tuck it back around himself, when he notices that something is wrong.

Frozen, the Mandalorian stares at the brown, rough material in his hand. There are no holes in it anymore, only stitches. 

_________________________________________

Combined with the sound of intentionally-loud footsteps, Din places Grogu - who had jumped between the two of you all night - on the edge of your cot, allowing the child to wake you up. Din strides to his weapons cache.

You yawn, then snicker at Grogu’s delighted face as he babbles what must be his version of Good Morning. 

“Morning, kid.” You pet his ear and he begins to purr.

“You should stop babying him,” the Mandalorian doesn’t look at you as he searches among the weapons.

“Why? He’s a baby.” 

Din shuts the doors to his stash. “He is fifty years old."

“He's what?” 

Din shrugs and inclines his head in humor. You stare incredulously at the middle-aged child who rotates his little head between you and his father. 

“His species is unknown, but they age differently than we do.” 

“Uh, yeah. Fifty?” 

Din’s modulator makes a rasping sound. It could’ve been a small laugh, but you’re not sure. 

“Is fifty so terrible?”

Something in Din’s voice makes you look up at him. He casually leans against the hull. 

Unsure if you should have the gumption to even ask, you stutter, “A-are you also fifty?” 

The beskar mask does not move as the man behind it debates his reply. He decides on honesty.

“No,” Din states. He clasps one hand over the other in front of him, adding, “But I will reach that number in less than a decade.” 

You make a small, accepting gesture as you had subconsciously placed him around his early forties anyway. In any case, it doesn’t matter to you. He is the Mandalorian who (somewhat inadvertently at first, you’ll admit) saved you. Even without that gratitude, you would feel an attraction to him. He was strong and kind and protective. Ruthless, sure, but only when necessary.

Din pushes off the wall, “You didn’t ask why I woke you.” 

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to you, so used to being woken up - far more rudely or violently - each morning for the prior two decades. “Alright, why did you wake me?”

He reaches behind his back, unhooking an item, and holds out the fighting stick he had used in that skirmish between the two of you. 

“I will teach you what I can.” 

***

Din Djarin is careful not to touch you, even through his gloves. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. Instead, he instructs you in tactics. After clocking your strategy in less than three moves, Din is worried about your future opponents doing the same. 

“You dislike giving ground, but there will be times you’ll have to. It’s how you will outmaneuver them,” the Mandalorian stands, hands folded, his knee cocked, as he speaks. 

“How do you know that?” You ask in response to his first statement. 

Din clenches his jaw at the memory so very close to other memories, and answers you in a contained voice, “You were not subtle.” 

You smile, abashed. “See, that is why I asked you. I’m far too inexperienced.”

Din closes his eyes in frustration.

You continue nervously, thinking about how hesitant he had been to agree to this, “My master took me to many fights, and you’re the best I’ve ever seen. I value your opinion.”

Din is used to compliments. Those whom he returned quarries to often praised him for his work. But your praise is one he actually wants, and something throbs in his chest. Then he grows irritated with his rampant, immature yearning for you. 

Din speaks harshly, “This is for the protection of the child. You are his guardian when I am not nearby.”

Locked onto that T-shaped, black slit, your eyes flicker a little at his callous, impatient pronouncement, but you nod. 

“Of course. For the kid.”

__________________________________

Unhappy to be removed from where he had curled up on his father’s pilot seat, Grogu had insisted upon sleeping in the cockpit with his little metal ball. You had assured the Mandalorian that you didn’t mind staying in the passenger chair for the night. The cushions were comfortable enough, and it made the child happy. 

An hour after Grogu had begun purring in his sleep, you’re brought to consciousness by a deeper, labored sound. Bolting to your feet, worried about the Mandalorian below, you descend the ladder. 

The door to the Mandalorian’s bunk had not fully closed, apparently jamming on some loose junk part that Grogu must’ve picked up. There is no light on in the enclosed space, so you cannot see him. But you can hear the way he mutters your name once, rough and agitated. You can hear the sound of material jerking and his rasping, vocoded grunts. 

Your throat tightens and your breathing stops. Eyes wide, you slowly back up, terrified for him to find you in this way. A molten weight in your stomach wants you to push open the door and take care of him, but after the manner in which he spoke to you the entire afternoon, and the obvious way he tries to forget about that day in the field, you can’t. You can’t even fathom why he would be uttering your name. It’s too confusing.

Dazed, you return to the cockpit and try to block him out. Sleep does not come to save you for far too long, and when it does, it provides you no escape from the Mandalorian.

__________________________________

Din’s tortured use of your name had kept you awake far into the night. When you groggily open your eyes the next morning, you know you won’t be able to let this go. You must talk to him. Bravery is a muscle you’re trying to flex anyway, so you might as well try it on the scariest thing you can think of: an angry Din Djarin. 

While Grogu plays with a ship part you pretend to have never seen, one Din had pried out of the receiving slot of his bunk door this morning, you and he traipse down the boarding ramp, intending to save the rest of the Gornt meat for traveling. 

Absolutely guessing at how you’ll begin this conversation, you decide you’ll just hope for the best. 

“I- I heard you last night.” It’s barely more than a whisper.

The Mandalorian stops dead in his tracks and you stumble, trying not to run into him. He turns on you, a solid wall of muscle and metal, but says nothing. You swallow and force what shred of courage you have to the front. 

“I heard you say my name. You don’t have to do that alone. I can help you,” your final words are almost inaudible.

The Mandalorian provides food, shelter, and companionship. Ignorant to any kind of normal relationship, friendly or greater, you want to show your gratitude. And if that was how you could help him, all the better.

Your inner self, the one that’s been unthawing since the day your master was frozen in carbonite, wants Din in a far more genuine manner. You want him. His compassion and honor, his fatherly love for Grogu, his non-pitying care for you, and his primal confidence have you in danger of becoming a hopeless devotee.

“Help me,” he reiterates, his tone worryingly neutral.

���Passage for assistance,” you try to ease the tension slightly with another old quote of his. “I can still assist you. It’s repayment for your aid.”

Even as you say it, you feel the depth of the lie. You want Din for yourself.

He’s silent. At his side, the fingers on his right hand fidget. The broad bounty hunter leans over you. As he tilts his head, the cold sun glints off his armor. 

Din’s voice is as sharp as his vibroblade but twice as lethal, “You are no longer a slave - do not make me say that again. This is not a business transaction.” 

Not a business transaction? While technically a rejection, his clarification makes you dizzy. Your breath comes out shakily, fogging in the chill air. 

“Okay. What if that’s not my real reason for asking?”

That does it. Stunned, the Mandalorian might as well be a statue made of beskar. Din had found it easy to believe you allowed him to touch you because you felt in his debt, and he hated it. Made him feel as slimy as a Hutt.

“Tell me.” 

Din watches your facial expressions run the gamut and he knows that whatever you’re about to say is the truth. 

“I care about you.” Will you ever stop whispering? “For you, not just what you’ve done for me,” your second greatest act of bravery this morning is touching his cold chestplate. You swallow as you look up into that blank face. 

Din doesn't move. Doesn't think he can move, but then his body responds before his mind does. Soft leather brushes your cheekbones as he takes your face in his large hands. He tilts his cold helmet to your forehead, and you instinctively close your eyes, sighing in relief. This was not what you were expecting when you followed him out here.

You can't hear the first thing he says, but it sounds like dank farrik. You laugh quietly in his hands.

"You are a menace,” he mutters a little louder, the modulator somehow enhancing the timbre of his voice. “You and the kid.”

Grinning, you open your eyes as he lifts his helmet from your skin. “Don’t bring him into this,” you joke. 

Din’s thumb ghosts across your lips and you shiver. The Mandalorian is calm. This is inevitable now. He need not fight himself any longer. He grasps your wrist and brings it upward. Gently guiding your fingers underneath the edge of his helmet, Din presses them to his lips.

Utterly shocked at this new gift, you gasp. A scratchy cloth wraps around the bottom of his chin, but above it, his soft, scruffy facial hair and plump lips make your skin tingle. Nerves jumble in your lower stomach. He presses another kiss before slowly lowering your hand.

You tell him disbelievingly, "I thought there was no way -” 

“What you thought was wrong.” 

Your heat signature rises at the sincerity in his voice. Din tilts his head, watching your reaction to him. He lets his covered fingers drift over your lips again, then he drags them down the column of your throat and past your exposed collarbone, enjoying your whimper. Your pupils are dilated.

“You want me now, don’t you?” He asks, his voice hoarse. 

You nod, whispering past your suddenly dry mouth, “Yes.” 

The Mandalorian crouches for a split second, hefting you into his arms with no effort. Your legs automatically wrap around his middle, arms around his neck. His hands clasp underneath your thighs as he strides up the loading ramp as though every second he delayed was one wasted. 

Din lays you out on his bunk and hits the button for the door without looking at it. He does not turn on the light. In the tiny, black room, you can hear him divesting himself of his flight suit and armor. It makes your heart throw itself against your chest. You sit up and struggle out of your own clothes, wanting nothing between you and him.

“Will I ever get to kiss you?” You ask timidly.

Din answers you immediately. His rough palms bracket your face, then he reverently pushes his lips into yours. His facial hair brushes against your skin and you weakly moan into his mouth, parting your lips for more. The Mandalorian groans, as well, enraptured by this new sensation. 

Din wraps a muscled arm around your waist, crushing you to him in the small space. His warm, broad chest forces yours to mold around him. Your hands gently drag along his torso, mapping him. He shudders underneath your fingers.

His lips break like waves around yours. You could be floating above the bed and it would feel no different. He kisses you like it’s what he needs to survive; his occasional noises of desperation stake your heart and dampen your thighs.

“Need to touch you everywhere,” Din’s real, untampered voice knots your stomach. 

“You can do whatever you want,” you breathlessly repeat the unspoken affirmation you’d given him the first time. 

He chuckles, and you shiver again, drunk with lust. Din lowers you back onto the hard bed, settling over you.

His hot mouth surprises the sensitive skin of your breast. Din moans, involuntarily you think, as he tastes you there, gently pulling and sucking. You jerk, pressing up into him with a cry. Who knew that could feel so good?

His big hands flow down your sides, pressing into you, exploring, and you get a burst of understanding. This man is starved.

Your hands comb into his hair, and while you wonder what its color is, you’re choked up to find that it’s soft and wavy. Din groans loudly when your fingers rub on his scalp. He seems invigorated by it as he growls and returns to your lips with a fever. His tongue demands you allow him inside, but there is no resistance on your end. 

Suddenly, Din breaks the kiss with a wet pop of his lips. He vanishes from above you, but then two large hands slide up your thighs. He pushes them apart and your breath hitches. 

“You trust me?” The Mandalorian knows the answer, he just wants to hear it.

Nodding dumbly in the dark, you realize he can’t see you and squeak, “Yes.”

He shifts down and presses a row of kisses up your inner thigh. His nose brushes your coarse hair, and your breathing breaks a second time. 

Din flattens his tongue and licks the spot he already knows you like. You jolt and his arms wrest around your thighs, holding you in place for him. You whimper as he buries his face in your folds, shocking your system. Your hands return to his hair, and his chest swells as he quickly shoves you toward your end. His nose continually nudges your bundle of nerves and each time it feels like you’re hurtling through hyperspace.

Your back arches when he traps your clit between his lips, and he responds with another obscene noise. This time, the vibration of his deep voice rips your orgasm from your marrow. Crying out his name, you quake, chest heaving through the waves of euphoria. 

Too overwhelmed by all his options, Din moves back to your mouth, breathing heavily himself, “Incredible.” 

He licks into you again, his hand cradling your face to allow him deeper. Taking advantage of his position, you wrap your legs around his trim waist, pulling him down. His hips cant toward you, and you feel his length fall onto your abdomen. You hadn’t forgotten how big he was, but the heft of it makes your body tremble. 

The Mandalorian could be a patient man, but this would never be one of those moments. Din fists himself, rubbing once along your soaked seam. He pushes forward, steadily feeding his cock into your tight, forgiving heat. Din grunts several times, overstimulated. 

“You don’t know what you’ve done, mesh’la,” he gruffly murmurs, his naked voice still so shocking to hear.

You have no idea what he means, and you file it away for later study. Solely focused on how he feels halfway inside you, you clutch at the back of his thick thighs, encouraging him. But then he snaps his hips, driving himself to the hilt.

“Din, oh,” you sharply gasp. 

He grinds his pubic bone into your mound, stimulating you; his chin tilts up, proud, when you shudder. The Mandalorian grabs one of your hands and brings it to where he’s joined with you.

“You feel that?” Din’s voice is weighty, meaningful.

“Mhm,” you sigh, your fingers leaving his hand to explore his dark curls. He’s right. The deviant way his thick member disappears inside you is intoxicating.

He languidly draws himself out, letting you experience every ridge and vein, pulsing with your filthy sounds. He re-enters you just as intentionally, and when he’s given you everything, he leans down and drags you into a kiss. A kiss that means something to him. His tongue surges through your mouth in a single stroke before his full lips pull on yours, one hand gripping the back of your neck.

He lets you go, trailing his mouth down your throat, obsessed with the taste and the feel of you on his skin.

Din returns to your lips, his forearms framing your head. His fingers twist in your hair, and he begins to pump faster. His length strokes along a spot that makes your eyes flutter in the pitch blackness. Your nails carefully rake at his toned back, drawing a strangled moan from him as he shoves himself inside again and again. Losing a measure of self-control, he thrusts hard, placing a palm on the back wall for stability. 

Your hands finally, finally, reach up for his face, expecting at any moment that he’ll stop you. His lips are parted as he pants in exertion, his facial hair fluttering with his breath. Din’s cheekbones are round and high; his nose is angular and fitting. 

“I knew you were handsome,” you praise, the words fluctuating in cadence with his pounding strokes. “Wouldn’t have mattered.”

He scoffs, barely conscious of what you’re saying. His forehead drops to yours again, and he can’t believe the life he’d known had unraveled so drastically. In under a year, Din had gained a child and this. 

“Turn over,” he orders.

Of course, you obey without hesitation.

His calloused fingers slide around your hips, pulling them upward. With your chest still pressed into the bunk, you moan when he slowly re-inserts himself. He nearly chokes when your body draws him in; the angle and drenched grip of you makes him shake his head in disbelief. 

“You okay?” He rumbles. 

Your chin scrapes on the metal bed as you nod, “Please move.” 

He clasps an arm around your middle, hunching forward. His scruff and lips tickle the top of your spine as he begins to rut into you. It’s already too much - Din grunting, his chest hair scratching your upper back, his muscled arms holding you in place as he fills you over and over. You begin to clench around him again, crying out harshly in a rush of pleasure. Your legs shake, giving out underneath you.

The Mandalorian’s large hand splays across your breast, and he pulls you backward onto your knees alone, welding you to his perspiring chest. As his length plunges up into you, his lips brush your ear. He’s whispering something, but you can't understand the words.

Then, Din exhales with a groan and rolls several long, pulsing strokes, burying his come as deep as he can with a final, gravel-filled grunt.

***

In the dark, there’s only the sound of two people fighting for breath. Din has leaned against the cool wall; he tugs you to him. You sit somewhat beside him, your legs tangled together. Your head rests on his heaving shoulder, and every now and then, you feel the press of his lips in your hair. He laughs once, quietly.

“What is it?” 

“Your life is not the only one that has changed.” 

Blinking rapidly, your heart glows with warmth. Yours had changed the most. This Mandalorian had come into your non-existence and given you everything. Courage, freedom, responsibility, love. 

“I know you like to fight, but this is one I’ll win,” you laugh softly. 

___________________________________

Tagging:

@morks-watermelon

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Well, only the 1st fl. of this grand 1855 Italianate Victorian mansion in Staten Island, NY was renovated. I don't really like what they did- they left only some original stuff and the rest of the 9bd, 2ba home is up to the new owner to finish. Now, they want to sell it for $1.85M. There's a lot of restoration work to do. Take a look, it's fascinating.

Firstly, they didn't do the exterior. So, the whole home has to be painted.

They made this room modern, open, and light. They've got a huge open space here w/2 different fireplaces, so this may have been 2 rooms.

This home has lots of murals. I don't know how they restored this one. The railings are intact.

Gally style kitchens were kind of standard for mansions, b/c the staff did the cooking. It appears that they just painted the existing cabinetry white, along w/the walls and ceiling.

They did this room, sanded the original wood floors, left the fireplace, but the bed is up against the pocket doors. I guess they use it as a bedroom b/c the upper floors aren't done.

Sun porch with plastic on the windows. Guess they need to be sealed.

Another bedroom. This a mansion, I'm sure that these aren't bedrooms on the main floor.

Kitchenette.

And, now we're in the unfinished part. See the murals? They have to be restored. if someone paints over them, I'll scream. The original floors need to be sanded.

Looks like they took the ceiling down for wiring.

It will be stunning when it's done, if the right buyer comes along.

Looks like they started some work on the upper floors, but ran out patience and money.

This home will be glamorous. Look at the little balcony cut into the ceiling.

This looks like the uppermost floor. Every room in this home is light and bright.

I wonder if they would leave some of these things like the big steamer trunk.

The attic is cool. But, there are only 2 baths and 9 bds, so 1 of the baths is up in the attic? I would have to find a way to make more baths.

Looks like they put in some plumbing. Why is it so big and exposed?

Oh, those stairs go up to the belvedere. Sooo beautiful. I wish this house was mine. It deserves to be beautiful.

This looks like a rear entrance on the main fl. that's been done.

Check out the huge workshop in the basement, and it has a fireplace.

It's so cool down here. Look at the old stove. OMG, it's got all new heat, etc., but look at the ancient furnace - it's still there.

The belvedere.

.52 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2475-Richmond-Rd-Staten-Island-NY-10306/2104614350_zpid/

[silverstar-8]

Lucifer's Headcanons!

I decided to write some headcanons for Luci. There will be sfw as well as nsfw ones! I'll might create more, but for now there will be only one part.

Also, I think you could say Lucifer x Reader, because I'm talking about "you" while describing some of his interactions. But most of the time, I think about my self-insert. Just letting you know!

SFW (Some random, but also romantic ones. They are NOT in the order):

Of course, he loves making his little ducks in his workshop, but he can create other things too! I have a feeling that he would make toys for Charlie and also jewellery. He is really creative with them.

He moved in to the hotel and the apple tower is his. I know it's more like prediction for a future season, but it isn't 100% confirmed, so still counts as a headcanon.

He is autistic. Yes, I know he has depression, but for me he is depressed autistic.

If he is around someone he loves (romantically) his tail shows up. It might even wag! Really fast!

And also, his tail would totally hug his lover's leg. And he wouldn't even notice.

He is a little bit more social than he was before. He's still struggling, but visiting more Charlie and helping her with a lot of stuff is still a big step!

When he's sad and alone, he is hugging himself with his wings. He's in wings' town. It's his way to comfort himself.

About wings, he can also do this if his loved one feel sad. He will literally hug with arms and wings. Really comfy.

Also, his feathers are really, REALLY soft. Great for petting. (He loves when someone is petting them)

If you feel sad, he would probably hum a melody or even literally sing for you. As well as playing an instrument, because why not. He can do all of this.

When he was alone, he talked with his clones. They are connected to his thought, so the conversations were interesting. He still sometimes talks with them, but most of the time he's using them for helping him with stuff, like makeup.

He likes to jump in the pile of rubber ducks. It is comforting for him.

He's pansexual. I don't have an explanation for this, I just feel he's so fruity XD

He has dark gray arms AND legs.

He has also hooves.

He is that short, because he actually like this height. He was like that since he was created and it would be really weird for him to change height.

But also! He loves to be carried!

And carry others!

NSFW below! (Time to be more wild, hehe)

First, I want to share my personal favourite nsfw headcanon I created. I've seen that most people assume that he has a dick. And of course, it's valid! Everyone can have their own headcanons, but I decided to think more about his design and what he is. So, he is an angel. Fallen, but still an angel. And he looks like a doll. What I mean to say is that he isn't human. He might look like one, but he doesn't even have ears or nose. So after this analysis, I've thought to give him... nothing! Yes! He is like a doll! He has nothing down here. No dick, no anus, none. BUT, remember everyone that he is a shapeshifter! He can adjust! So even if he doesn't have anything down here, he can create anything he or his partner wants. Dick? Sure! Pussy? Of course! Both? Why not?! Maybe something more crazy, like tentacles? We can go wild as fuck! I love inhuman characters like Lucifer, because you can actually create something really crazy like that! And it makes sense! I mean, think about it! Why angels would need anything down here? It just makes sense that they don't have anything here!

So, as I said, he can create anything he wants, but what is happening with him when he doesn't have anything? I've thought about this too! So, when he doesn't have reproductive organs, few spots on his body are becoming more sensitive when he's horny. They are: Hands, hooves, tail, around his horns, few spots on his wings. If you massage those places, he can have orgasm. It is a little different experience than what we, human can achieve, but it's as intense, if not even more sometimes, as our orgasm.

About horns... if you pull them during sex, he can come just from this. But you have to do this strong! Don't worry, you won't hurt him.

He fucked with his clones for sure. He is the fucking sin of Pride, of course he had to have fun time with himself. But it is kinda like advanced masturbation, because he controls them.

But it also means, that with a partner, he could use his clones, so you could have a literal gangbang with just Lucifer.

He prefers folks with pussies. It is just his personal favourite, but he wouldn't mind if his loved one had different thing! He would eat you anyway.

He is a total switch. He is the literal definition of this. He feels comfortable in being sub, dom, top and bottom.

As a power bottom, he is a little shit, because he is challenging your dominance. He loves it.

I can imagine that in dominant role, he would be really caring or more aggressive, depending what you wanted.

He talks a lot during sex. He would say a lot of dirty things with his deep voice.

He can growl when he is close to the climax.

He has totally a kink that is connected to him being a king.

And also daddy kink. I can totally imagine that he would have this.

His demonic side might appear during sex. He thinks that it's too scary, but if he sees that you like it, he will show it more.

For now it's all! Those are my headcanons, so I hope you had fun reading them!

See ya! ~ Silver

[drunkenskunk]

There's a project related to my interest in Warhammer that I've wanted to do for quite some time, but I know I'll never get the chance to actually do it. At least, not properly. And it involves... I think "historical preservation" is probably the best word for it?

See, I like to occasionally sift through my collection of old "out of date" rulebooks and army codex books from earlier editions of 40k. The sort of things that have been out of print for many years. Games Workshop hasn't sold these books in 2 or 3 decades, and they've all been supplanted by the current rules. And I do this because I think it's interesting to see how the game - in both crunch and fluff - has changed since 1987.

More beyond the break...

For example: the different ways the galaxy has been depicted in 40k between the different editions. In the first rulebook, when it was still called Rogue Trader, all we got was a small, almost abstract, image on the bottom of the page. The 2nd edition rulebook that came out in October 1993 (specifically, the Codex Imperialis book) had a two page spread, but it was also very abstract with a few notes, but no real detail to speak of. As far as I can tell, the first time we got a map of the galaxy with the segmentum divisions that we're all accustomed to now came from a very unexpected place: the very first Tyranid codex that came out in August 1995.

Of course, my copy of the 2nd Edition book is a very poor quality black and white scan. Those segmentum divisions could genuinely be there, and I just can't see it. Not to mention, it's entirely possible that a map with segmentum divisions first premiered in an issue of White Dwarf first, because GW liked to do stuff like that in the old days where you'd see it in the hobby magazine long before it was "officially" released in a rulebook.

There are a lot of glaring omissions from a lot of the other files in my collection: poor scans, missing pages, corrupted files... There's a lot I still don't know, because it's impossible for me to currently confirm that the little I do know is, in fact, accurate. My collection is woefully incomplete. Plus, I don't really have much past 6th edition anyway.

And this, in essence, is my idea: try and complete the collection. Find pristine copies of all the old 40k rulebooks, army codexes, even old copies of White Dwarf, and digitize them all into a huge archive for the sake of historical preservation. Of a sort.

Basically, I want to become a Lexmechanic of the Adeptus Mechanicus, looking for Dark Age of Technology era STC's uncorrupted by the Heresy or the war with the Iron Men. Either that, or I want to become Trazyn with his Infinite Archive on Solemnace.

Unfortunately, there are many problems with this plan. The first being GW's overly litigious nature. They see all this Warhammer shit as "product" first and a hobby for people to enjoy a very, VERY distant second. Doesn't matter that these books (and the magazines) are long since out of print and they don't sell them anymore, effectively making the old editions the tabletop hobby equivalent to video game abandonware... if they got wind that I was attempting a project of this nature, I just know GW would smack me in the face with a cease and desist.

Of course, the other major stumbling block here is the financial issue. And I'm not just talking about buying the books. Obviously, there's the problem of the rarer books that go for upwards of $300 or more on ebay, but there's also a volume problem. Even if you find some good deals, and you're able to find older books for $10 or $15 a pop, there's just SO MANY books, that if I were to attempt this I would be wasting several thousand dollars that I just don't have.

More importantly, there's also the machine I would need to buy in order to do this project in the first place. Because if I was going to do this, I would want to do it right, y'know? I wouldn't want to simply shove the books into my dinky little scanner-printer combo hooked up to my computer. The only way I'd get a clean scan using that method would be to physically destroy these very valuable books, and that's the last thing I'd want to do. No, I would want to do it right, and get a machine like Scribe, the book scanner used by the internet archive:

Now, obviously, I can't get access to that machine, specifically, because Scribe was custom built by the engineers at the Internet Archive. But other V-cradle book scanners that let you digitize books without destroying them do exist... and they're all REALLY expensive. A good one to produce professional quality scans is, like, $25,000.

And I know what you're thinking: why do I even care about any of this? Even if this project was not entirely out of my reach, it's ultimately pointless, right? Why would I want to preserve all these old, out-of-date, no longer relevant rulebooks for a tabletop wargame that has only existed exactly as long as I have?

Because... let's be honest, this isn't really about Warhammer. The reason I want to do this stems from a much deeper desire to simply Remember. It's amazing and terrifying in equal measure just how easily history can be erased, either deliberately or simply through neglect. All of these things in our lives that are seemingly so important to us can easily vanish from history, like sandcastles when the tide rolls in.

Hell, if you really want to know my feelings about this, just watch Jacob Geller's video on this very subject.

If I had infinite time and infinite money, and I didn't care about any kind of repercussions from GW's legal team, this project would not be beyond my reach.

But I do not have infinite time or money. And there are more things in my life that I need to be concerned with that are far more important than creating a... stupid archive.

Shame, really.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 6

Hello hello! Part 6 of Home Sweet Home and we get to hear about Will and reader's engagement!!! Super fluffy, super sweet, thank you to @yellowbunnydreams for letting me be insane and for bouncing ideas around with me, you're the best.

WARNINGS: Talk of feeling worthless, 99% fluff

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,089

Part 5 - Part 7 (TBA)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

William held your hand as he drove, his thumb languidly running over your knuckles as a soft tune crackled from the radio. The two of you had almost entirely finished unpacking, your week off together slowly winding down with every discarded cardboard box. You both decided that you were due for a much needed break, neither of you stopping to do so much as take a breather the past couple days. “I'm telling you, I wouldn't risk it. Henry might shoot you if he sees you trying to slip back into parts and services.” You chuckle, giving your husband's hand a soft squeeze.

“Well, unfortunately for him, I need my tools. That leaky sink isn't going to fix itself and I don't have the right size wrench at the house to do it.” He laughs as you pull into the lot. The bright sign of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria welcoming you as the lone beacon in the night. William hops out of the car, walking around to your side in order to open the door for you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders as you stand, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss to the top of your head. This place had become a second home to the both of you, it having played a backdrop for some of the most pivotal moments of your and your husband's relationship, the old building held a very special place in your heart. You're greeted with the familiar sound of arcade machines pinging and the excited screams of children as they race around, fists clamped tightly around their winnings of bright orange tickets.

“Well, howdy you two! Isn't this a nice surprise!” Henry approaches you, arms already open for a hug as he greets you jovially.

“I still owe my girl that pizza.” William chuckles, clapping Henry on the back as he pulls him into a tight hug. Henry turns to you, laughing slightly as he asks.

“Well what toppings would you like on that little lady? I'll gladly pop back into the kitchen and put in a special order just for you.” you can't help but roll her eyes at the sound of his customer service tone breaking through.

“Just pepperoni Henry, thank you.” She smiles.

“We’re just going to pop back to parts and services, I have to fix some stuff at the house.” Will gently takes you by the wrist, tugging you towards the back of the restaurant before Henry has a chance to protest.

“The two of you haven't even been in that house a week and you managed to break something?” He asks with a laugh. “What? Get a little too frisky in the shower and rip the faucet off the wall?” You can't help but giggle at the sight of your husband's cheeks darkening.

“Leaky tap in the kitchen.” You decide to explain the situation before Henry has a chance to tease Will even more. “I promise I won't let him start working.”

“You have ten minutes.” He jokes, waving a finger at both of you before heading towards the kitchen. You smile as a kid rushes past you towards the stage show that was just beginning to start.

“You know, even after all this time I still love watching them perform.” You muse with a small laugh. Your hand slides into William’s, the two of you exchanging a smile as you head towards parts and services. The two of you slipped from the chaos of the pizzeria into the nearly silent hallway, William had always liked to be kept as far away from the main room as possible, he would always argue that it lowered the chance of a kid finding their way down to his workshop and getting hurt, but you knew it was just because he liked the quiet. He pulls his ring of keys from his pocket, unlocking the door without much thought as the two of you head inside. William lets out a sigh of relief as he kicks the door shut.

“Silence at last, I don't know how he stands being out there all day.” He chuckles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “It feels like it's been years since we were in here together.” You roll your eyes, sliding your hands over his chest as you turn yourself to face him.

“I'm sorry, years? I think I remember you having me bent over that work bench a couple weeks ago.” You smirk, making your husband chuckle before he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You let out a soft hum as you melt into him, his beard scratchy against your soft skin as you held each other tightly. He pulls back from you, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. His hands drop to your hips, lifting you up onto one of the counters that lined the walls with ease. You look around the room with a fond expression, a nostalgic look your husband didn't miss.

“Lots of memories in this room, huh rabbit?” Your eyes snap to your husband, a soft smile on his face as he studies you.

“I guess you could say that.” You giggle, fidgeting with a ratchet you had found by your side. Your smile widens as you watch your wedding ring glint in the golden afternoon light. “Do you remember when we got engaged?” You ask quietly.

“How could I forget?” He chuckles, straightening up and walking over to you. “It was the day the most beautiful woman in the world agreed to be my wife, of course I remember.”

You slammed through the door of parts and services, making William jump and the machine part he had situated in his lap clatter to the floor. “Bunny?” His confused and concerned tone reached your ears and the sound alone was enough to make you break down in tears. The moment he realized the state you were in, William was up out of his chair and rushing to your side. “Honey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” He wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He shushes you quietly, waiting for your hiccuping and sniffling to quiet down before asking you again. “Baby, what happened? Talk to me.”

“I just… It’s stupid Will, I don't really want to talk about it.” He shakes his head, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to try and keep you calm.

“It's not stupid bunny. If it matters enough to you that it makes you cry it matters to me.” He reminds you in a calm tone. “Tell me what's the matter, baby.” You take a few deep breaths, wiping at your face roughly with your hands.

“I ran into some girls I went to high school with and it just reminded me how far behind all of them I am.” You couldn't meet his eyes. At this point you didn't even know why William still wanted to be with you. He was smart, successful, ungodly handsome. You were just you. Still working the same job at the pizzeria, you weren't married, didn't have any kids, didn't have any accomplishments to show for yourself. “They've all got these big important jobs and drive fancy cars and they have these amazing wonderful lives with their husbands and I… I’m nothing.” Will stood there, staring at you with a slack jawed expression.

Were you being serious? William noticed the way tears pricked at your eyes, the way you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the workbench, your lip trembling in frustration as your gaze looked anywhere but at him. He lets out a huff, his eyes darting around his workshop. He grabbed the mechanism he had been working on, wrapping one of the protruding wires around his hand, tugging it free with a loud snap. He pushes tools around the crowded space, letting out a satisfied noise when he finds the wire strippers he was searching for. He clips them on about halfway down the wire, shucking off the bright red insulated coating with ease to reveal the shining copper underneath. He takes the end of it, twisting the strands together tightly before taking a pair of cutters and snipping off the cable. He takes a ring terminal and crimps it on one side of the cord, on the other end he crimps on a connector, slipping it through the terminals loop before placing a bright yellow plastic cap on it. He carefully forms it into a neater circle before taking long, fast strides in your direction. He grabs your hand in his, sliding the makeshift ring into place on your finger.

“I promise you, tomorrow morning I’m going to go buy you the real thing. But, for right now,” He holds your hands tightly in his, silver eyes locking onto yours as Will poured his heart out to you. “I am in love with you, I have been since the beginning. There isn't a morning that I wake up, or a time where I go to sleep where I don't think about just how goddamn lucky that I am to have you. You are the air in my lungs, the reason my heart keeps beating, bunny you are my entire world. I'm sorry that it took you bursting in here almost in tears for me to finally say all of this but if I'm being entirely honest I was terrified to admit just how deeply in love with you I am. Out of everyone you could have had you somehow chose me and for the life of me I still can't understand why. How could an angel like you ever love someone like me? It doesn't matter where you think you compare to any of those women because I know that you are the most incredible, talented, smartest, most loving woman I have ever met, I could never love someone more than how much I love you.” You felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands trembling in Will’s strong grip.

“Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, still not fully believing what you were hearing. You slowly begin to nod your head, slowly shaking it faster as you repeat your answer with growing excitement. “Of course I'll marry you, I love you so much.” You let out a sniffly laugh as you pull him into a passionate kiss.

You twist your wedding ring around your finger, your eyes drifting up to your husband as he steps in front of you. He holds out a recreation of your stand-in engagement ring, a small bashful smile lacing his lips. “And after all this time you're still mine.” He remarks quietly.

“I'd marry you all over again if I could.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hands slide over your hips, hiking you to the edge of the workbench you had situated yourself on. His eyes scan over your face hungrily, his steely gray eyes darkening as a smirk spreads across his features. He guides your legs around his waist, letting out a groan before his lips crash against yours. He wraps a hand loosely around your throat, angling your jaw to deepen the kiss. You let out a soft gasp as he nips at your bottom lip, allowing him to effortlessly slip his tongue into your mouth. He lets out a soft, satisfied hum against your lips.

The door bursts open behind you, “Oh, for Christ’s sake! Lock the door you animals!” Henry exclaims as he slaps a hand over his eyes. William chuckles as he pulls away from you, leaving you utterly breathless.

“Relax, we’re both fully clothed.” He groans, making you giggle. Henry holds a pizza box in his hand.

“Go home and enjoy this, I don't want to see either of you back in this building until Monday.” He waves a finger at them, you couldn't help but laugh at the fact he still chastised both of you like children. Will motions for you to follow, figuring since he had what he needed you could head out. Henry walks the two of you out to your car, pulling you into a tight hug before you slip into the passenger seat, the pizza tucked safely onto your lap. Will stood outside the car talking to Henry too quietly for you to hear, but from the giddy expression on your husband’s best friend's face you knew they were up to something.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag list: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

"Sonic vs. Tails - The Ultimate April Fools Battle"

AO3 link if you'd rather read it there ;)

6:38 a.m.

Early on a Monday morning, Sonic awoke to a rocking sensation. For a moment it was nice, soothing even, and he thought perhaps he'd fallen asleep on a hammock or something.

Except, it was in fact not soft fabric beneath him, but wooden boards.

A faint smell of salt alerted him next. Then a strong gust of wind. Then the cry of a seagull.

A seagull?!

His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, panic immediately flooding his chest upon seeing a huge mass of water all around him. He found himself sitting in a wooden fishing boat, smack dab in the middle of it.

He jumped up to his feet with a squeak of true fear, wobbling as the rocking of the boat nearly made him lose his balance.

He raced to the pole where the sails were attached and jumped onto it, full-body clinging to it with both arms and legs. "HOW IN MOBIUS DID I GET OUT HERE?!" he yelled indignantly, as loudly as he could for having just woken up.

A snicker sounded above him, and he jerked his head up so fast he nearly got whiplash.

And whom should he see perched atop the sails post but his little brother, Tails, his namesakes waving around and mischief practically written all over his face.

"Happy April Fools," the smug little fox greeted him, still giggling.

Sonic relaxed slightly, but shot Tails a feigned death glare. "It's on," he shot back, unable to hide a smirk.

-

8:23 a.m.

He had to be subtle about this. Tails was obviously very well aware what day it was. He had to be sly.

So, for his first prank of many, Sonic ran out to buy a cheap whoopie cushion, then slipped it in the Tornado's cockpit, at a perfect angle so Tails wouldn't see it until it was too late.

He was pretty proud of himself for keeping it cool, going on runs and swinging back by the workshop every few minutes to see when Tails needed to go out for a flight.

Except it was taking too long.

If he didn't get that over with, all his time to come up with more pranks for the day would be gone. And that simply wouldn't do.

"Hey, Tails!" he called from the roof, where he'd been leisurely lounging for the past five minutes. "Wanna go for a shopping run?"

After a pause of silence filled only with the sound of some metal clanging, Tails called back, "For what? I thought we were stocked."

"No, we need more— flour." He quickly improvised, having not actually checked the pantry beforehand.

"Why do we need more flour?" Tails sounded both distracted and confused as he continued whatever he was clanging around with.

"Because bread." Sonic flipped onto the ground and leaned his head through the window. "We should make bread."

Tails finally pulled back his goggles and shot him a look. "Why do you want to make bread?"

"Don't question it, Tails! Why can't I be allowed to wanna try new stuff?"

"Because it's April Fools, that's why." Tails smirked and pulled his goggles back down, studying the chunks of metal he was abusing. "There's probably a prank waiting for me at the store or something."

Sonic clasped a hand to his chest dramatically. "You seriously think I went and sabotaged public property just to pull a prank on you?!"

Without missing a beat, and without shifting his eyes from his work, Tails replied, "Yeah."

Sonic huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, I didn't. And the only way for you to see that is to come on shopping with me. I'll even let you pick the store so that you can be sure."

Tails looked at him, arching a brow and resting one hand on his hip. "You're so random," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "You realize you can go shopping by yourself, right?"

"Well, sue me for wanting to spend time with my darling little brother," Sonic pouted, trying his best to pull off a puppy-dog-eyes look.

"Since when did you become so clingy?" Tails laughed, finally setting aside his things and flying over to the window.

Finally!

"It was inevitable. You're too loveable." Sonic yanked him into a hug, right before letting him start flying towards the Tornado.

"I don't know whether to feel touched or suspici—" Tails abruptly broke off as he hopped into the cockpit, and the whoopie cushion immediately squeezed beneath him, filling the air with its awful sounds.

His face went beet red for a moment, then he closed his eyes and sighed. Sonic had already fallen over laughing, tears springing to his eyes at Tails's expression.

"Bread, huh?" Tails sounded way too calm as he turned to face his brother, but there was a terrifying glint in his eyes.

"You bet!" Sonic laughed. "Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's go get flour!"

Tails picked up the whoopie cushion and hurled it full force at the hedgehog's face.

-

8:52 a.m.

After the whoopie cushion incident, Tails forced Sonic to go out shopping anyway. He even managed to trick him into thinking he was doing it as an apology.

Oh, was that poor hedgehog mistaken. He was so in for it. Tails had sent him out shopping— alone— so he could set up his revenge prank.

He decided to go with a simple one. Perhaps he would save the more intricate and wild pranks for later in the day.

This one would still be personal, though.

Barely suppressing a little cackle of glee, Tails snatched a large bottle of clear super glue and generously poured it all over the welcome mat at his front door. This glue wouldn't fully dry for another twenty to thirty minutes, and since Sonic was only getting one thing from the store, he wouldn't take nearly that long.

Sure enough, five minutes after he'd laid the prank, he heard the distinct BOOM in the distance of his brother's impending arrival.

Tails already knew Sonic wasn't going to notice the glue. If it wasn't immediately obvious, and he wasn't in danger, he didn't pay attention to detail like that.

The door handle jiggled for a moment, then was followed by a banging on the door. His muffled voice called, "Tails, if you're gonna send me out to buy stuff we don't actually need, the least you could do is leave the door unlocked for me to actually give you the stuff we don't need."

"Oh, dear chaos!" Tails called back, deliberately sounding way too dramatically surprised. "How did the door lock itself?!"

It didn't matter if Sonic caught on. If he was banging on the door, it was too late for him.

"I don't like your tone, young man." Sonic definitely sounded suspicious, and Tails could barely suppress his triumphant laughter.

"Sorry, Dad." With a snicker, he unlocked the door and swept it open, where he found Sonic standing with a hefty bag of flour, shooting him a look.

He was standing right in the middle of the super glue puddle.

"Seriously, bro? Locking me outside? That's the best you g-GAAUHH!" Sonic broke off as he tried to take a step forward, only to pull the entire doormat up with his foot and lose his balance. He tried desperately to right himself, but only ended up pinwheeling his arms, losing his grip on the bag of flour, and falling square on his chest. A second later, the bag of flour came down on his head and immediately popped open upon pricking his quills.

After the flour dust settled, the two brothers looked at each other for a solid ten seconds, the younger standing tall with his arms crossed and a smug smile, the older slumped on the ground, covered in flour to the point of looking like a ghost, glaring daggers.

He sneezed. "That was low. I like my kicks."

"They'll be fine," Tails insisted, brushing off the flour that had drifted into his fur. "I've got a solution that'll cancel out the glue."

Sonic shook himself off, then stood up and sneezed again. "You owe me twenty rings for the waste of perfectly good flour that we didn't need."

Tails stuck his tongue out at him, then started blowing the spilled flour out the door with his tails.

-

9:35 a.m.

Sonic took a shower after the flour incident, and he made it quick enough so that Tails didn't have any time to try anything more on him, since he was still cleaning up said flour.

Once he'd gotten out and dried off, Tails brushed past him into the bathroom, and a few seconds later he heard the shower start up again.

No way there was this golden opportunity just dangling in front of him . . .

Grinning, Sonic first went to the kitchen and hit the switch for the power hose. Next time Tails went to wash the dishes, he was in for a little surprise.

Then, very quietly, he nudged the door open to the bathroom (where Tails was still in the shower), reached in, and flushed the toilet.

A second later, there was a high pitched "Yipe!" and one very startled, very wet fox kit scrambled out of the tub at the suddenly freezing water.

Sonic heard his name screeched furiously from over his shoulder as he laughed and booked it for the front door, only to catch on the doormat and faceplant the sidewalk, his socks now stuck in the super glue still coating the mat.

-

10:14 a.m.

He deserved this fate, Tails claimed.

"It's called revenge!" Sonic yelled through the door from where he lay on the ground outside in the yard. "Sweet, totally fair, revenge! Can I have the anti solution for the glue now?"

"Nope," Tails called back.

"C'moooon. These are my last clean socks, I can't just take them off and put on dirty ones. Do you want me to defile the house with smelly feet?"

"Ohh, manipulation. That's a new one!"

"Tails!"

"Just wear flipflops. Or go barefoot. I dunno."

"I don't like flip flops!" Sonic squirmed onto his side. "And I don't like being barefoot! Running barefoot is painful!"

"Ah, well. Guess you'd better apologize for ruining my lovely shower and forfeit all your desserts to me for the next three months, if you ever want to run again."

"Sorry, who was being manipulative?"

"You were!"

Sonic huffed. "You know, I could just do laundry. Yeah. Do laundry and be free."

"Wow!" Tails sounded way too amazed. "That's so genius!"

"I'll wash all my socks! I'll wash all the socks!" With caution, Sonic forced his way back onto his feet, then hopped inside the house, doormat still attached. "I'll be free in a matter of . . . hours." He frowned. "Hey Tails, can dish soap clean clothes? And how fast does a fur dryer dry clothes?"

Tails was standing in the kitchen, pouring the remains of the flour that hadn't touched the floor into a canister. He eyed his brother for a moment, then smiled sweetly. "There's one way to find out."

Without thinking, Sonic broke into a relieved grin and started hopping his way into the kitchen. "Good, because if I have to be stuck like this for one—"

He turned the faucet on, and immediately a powerful spray of cold water shot out at his face from the power hose. He yelped and sputtered, immediately switching it off as he suddenly realized he'd fallen for his own prank.

Or, more likely, Tails had seen right through his prank, and had made him fall for it.

Sonic looked down at him, water dripping down his face and off his quills. Tails had lost his cool composure and was doubled over, squeaking with laughter.

-

10:30 a.m.

"I deserved that one," Sonic grumbled, toweling off his face.

Tails sat beside him on the porch, eyes closed in smug contentment as he brushed out his tails. "Yes. You did."

Sonic turned and grinned devilishly. "You realize this isn't over, lil bro."

Tails turned a fanged smile right back on him. "Far from it."

-

11:04 a.m.

Sonic burst through Amy's door and immediately said, "Ames, I need a favor!"

Amy nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping her paintbrush onto the carpet. She sighed, but picked it up without complaining, set it on the ledge of her painter's stand, and gave him her attention. "What's up?"

"Sorry for that," he said quickly, then added, "Could you make a batch of chocolate chip cookies, but like, make three of them with raisins instead?"

Amy wrinkled her forehead even as she smiled. "Wait, what? Why?"

"It's April Fools. I need to get back at Tails."

"Oh, no." Amy laughed as she stood up and started heading for her kitchen. "What'd he do?"

"Oh, many things." As Amy set to making the cookies, he told her all about the events of the day so far. He told her about the pranks on both sides, just to keep it fair.

Amy was aware of their April Fools traditions. The same basic thing had happened the past two years as well.

It had been last year that they learned the hard way not to prank Knuckles. Or Shadow.

"You should really learn to bake," Amy commented as she eventually pulled the batch out of the oven. "It's really very fun! And satisfying."

"You know what'll be satisfying?" He snickered. "The look on Tails's face when he thinks he's gonna taste chocolate and tastes raisins instead!"

Amy shook her head with an amused sigh. "That too, I guess."

They hung out together for another twenty minutes or so, then Sonic bid her farewell and took off back to the workshop.

-

12:22 p.m.

Tails had resumed working on whatever project he'd been doing earlier that morning.

"Yo, Tails!" Sonic raced into the room, holding the container of cookies. "Amy made us cookies!"

"Ooh, she did?" Tails immediately paused what he was doing and lit up, but then suspicion clouded his face. "Wait . . . what's going on?"

"Bro, it's just cookies," Sonic laughed. "What, do you think they're poisoned?"

Tails kept hesitating, but Sonic could see him scenting the air. Since the majority of them were chocolate chip, he was detecting that— not the few raisins.

"Okay. I'll take one," he finally relented, and Sonic handed him one with raisins.

He started heading back to his project as he took a bite, but immediately stopped in his tracks. Sonic watched him stop chewing and look at the cookie for a long moment, then turn and shoot him a deadpan look.

"You're so mean," he complained, mouth still full with the bite he refused to swallow (he hated raisins). Then he tried to spit it out onto Sonic, who yelped and raced away, dropping the container of cookies on the floor.

Tails picked it up, having already figured out that most of the others were actually chocolate chip. Jokes on Sonic, now he had all the good cookies to himself.

-

1:01 p.m.

Their prank fest had delayed lunch a bit, so Sonic (after eventually returning) told Tails to kick back and relax while he made chili.

Tails seemed a little too pleased with the idea, but Sonic barely noticed, too hungry to care.

As he stirred through the pot, Tails watched him, grinning in anticipation for the meal. Earlier, while Sonic had been lying around the front yard with the doormat glued to his socks and complaining, Tails had switched out the salt and sugar.

Half an hour later or so, they sat down together to eat. It seemed Sonic thought they had reached a temporary truce, but oh, little did he know.

Tails deliberately took his sweet time in spooning the chili onto his hot dog, eyeing his brother in his corner vision. Sonic had made his in no time, digging in with two big bites before Tails had even finished dressing his.

Almost immediately Sonic paused, blinked a couple times, then kept chewing. Then paused again, frowning.

His eyes flicked to Tails, who quickly resumed dressing his chili dog.

Sonic finally swallowed. "That's weird."

"What's weird?" Tails asked innocently, actually being subtle this time.

"Chili tastes more like dessert." The hedgehog squinted at him. "Did you sabotage the chili cans?"

Tails sniffed. "How dare you accuse me."

"Did you?"

"No, I didn't. The cans were sealed, weren't they?"

"Hm." Sonic took another hesitant bite, but stopped again, shaking his head. "This tastes so weird. Have you tried yours?"

Tails shrugged. "Try salting it," he suggested, avoiding the question.

Sonic grabbed the salt shaker and generously covered his chili dog with its contents, then took another bite, only to actually choke over it this time.

"Okay, did you—?!" He snatched the shaker again, shook a little onto his finger, tasted it, then chucked it at Tails, who laughed and dove out of the way. "You switched the salt and sugar?!"

"Well, duh!" Tails switched to hovering over the table, snickering. "There are no truces today, dearest brother!"

Sonic threw the too-sweet chili dog at him next, inevitably splattering chili over the table.

"You're cleaning that up!" Tails called in a singsong voice. "I'm going out to Josef's Pasta Alla Paccico!"

"OH, NO YOU DON'T!"

-

2:10 p.m.

They both ended up eating out at Josef's, and even though they did truly call a ceasefire for a grand total of twenty-five minutes, they split the time between actually eating and blowing their straw wrappers at people, having mini sword fights with the butter knives, and constructing architecture with the plates and takeout boxes.

Needless to say, the only reason they didn't get kicked out was probably because both Sonic and Tails were practically world-renowned.

Not long after they returned to the workshop, Sonic inevitably crashed for a nap. He usually couldn't make it through a day without a nap at some point, which was always unfortunate for him on this particular day of the year.

Tails studied him where he slept, on a branch of the tree in his front yard. He knew he'd been the last one to pull something, but hey, who said they were taking turns?

There was simply no way he was passing this up.

First, he grabbed a sharpie and very carefully drew an elaborate mustache worthy of Eggman across his brother's face. He added a few random smiley faces on his cheek and arms, as well as the phrase "SLO-MO" on one shoulder.

Then he grabbed an assortment of potato chips and began carefully stacking them on his head, in his hands, on his stomach, in an entire tower.

He made sure to take pictures through the whole process, then— leaving him there to sleep, still covered in sharpie and potato chips— flew off to print the photos.

Going above and beyond, he put the printed photos in a fancy envelope, marked them as "priority mail," addressed them to Sonic's post office box, disguised himself, then dropped them off at the post office.

An hour passed after he had done all that, and Sonic finally stirred awake.

Upon seeing the stack of chips in front of him, he promptly fell out of the tree with a yelp, and Tails started giggling.

"What did you do to me?" Sonic whined, brushing all the crumbs off his head and chest as he stood up, still groggy.

"You think that's bad?" Tails teased. "Go check the mirror."

A look of horror filled his brother's eyes, then he was gone in a flash. Tails kept giggling, and laughed harder when he heard the yell from inside: "WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LOOK LIKE EGGFACE?!"

"It's called revenge!" Tails called back gleefully. "Sweet, totally fair, revenge!"

Sonic came storming back outside. "How dare you use my own words against me."

"Sorry," Tails told him insincerely.

His brother scrubbed at his cheek. "How long will it take for this to wash off?"

Tails shrugged. "A couple days, probably."

Sonic's resulting screech was loud enough to startle away all the nearby flickies.

-

4:32 p.m.

Sonic spent at least half an hour in the bathroom desperately trying to scrub the marker out of his fur, but only succeeded in making it fade a little.

"Taking advantage of my sleep cycle," he huffed, reaching out to mess up Tails's bangs from where the fox kit sat on the couch. "So rude."

Tails tried to fix his bangs, while Sonic flopped onto the other end of the couch. "Consider it payback for you dyeing my fur green last year."

"You still looked cool, at least!" Sonic protested. "If Egghead sees me like this, I'm never going to hear the end of it."

"I looked like a lime!" Tails shot back. "I had to hide from society for an entire month!"

"It wasn't a month."

"Three and a half weeks. Close enough."

"Mm."

Tails shot him a look, and Sonic reached over to mess up his bangs again. He was rewarded with a throw pillow to the face.

Sonic threw it back, and it was just about to escalate into a fully fledged pillow fight when the doorbell rang.

Both of them froze, and Sonic zipped away in a flash. "I'm not here! You don't know me! If anyone asks, I'm in Holoska on a nice, arctic vacation!"

"Chicken!" Tails taunted after him, then flew over to the door and pulled it open to find Amy and Knuckles standing on the other side.

(Thankfully, the super glue had dried hours before.)

"Hey, guys!" he greeted them, stepping back to let them in. "What's the occasion?"

Amy said sweetly, "We just wanted to make sure you and Sonic were doing okay!" at the same time Knuckles said, "We came to supervise."

Tails rolled his eyes. "We don't need babysitters."

Amy glanced around. "Did Sonic leave?"

Knuckles frowned as Tails snickered. "I guess he did. He's telling everyone he's going to Holoska."

"You can't stop me!" Sonic's muffled voice shouted from somewhere towards the back of the workshop.

"Nobody's trying!" Tails called back, his voice catching on a laugh. "Just be sure to warn Jari-Pekka about your new look!"

"New look?" Knuckles echoed.

Amy facepalmed. "What did you do to him?"

Tails waved a hand flippantly. "It'll come off in a few days."

"And this is why we thought you two needed supervision," Knuckles groaned. "Today always gets out of hand."

"Do we need to separate you two?" Amy asked, although she was grinning.

Sonic chose that moment to burst explosively out of the closet, zip to his brother's side, and pull him close in a protective hug. "No, don't separate us!" he insisted, forcing a huge smile. "Everything's going just fine!"

Knuckles and Amy took a solid ten seconds to stare at Tails's artwork all over Sonic's face, then started laughing, albeit good-naturedly.

Tails grinned at where he was still trapped in his brother's hold, only to start violently trying to squirm away when said brother slipped a sharpie out of hiding and started drawing his revenge on the fox's face.

-

6:00 p.m.

Knuckles and Amy chose to spend the rest of the day at the workshop with them, just to make sure things didn't get any crazier than they already had. By the time dinnertime arrived, both Sonic and Tails had sharpie all over their faces, although the "art" on Tails's face could hardly be called as such. Because of his squirming during the whole process, it was nothing more than random scribbles of blue in random places on his face.

"Next year I'll dye you blue," Sonic promised him as the four of them had dinner together (after Amy switched back the salt and sugar). "We can match!"

"Pass." Tails swallowed his bite. "I'll just look like some kind of mutant smurf."

Sonic snickered. "All the more reason to do it, then!"

Amy groaned. "Boys . . ."

"Hey, we should rope you into this!" Sonic exclaimed suddenly, staring straight at Amy.

"If you want a hammer to the face next, feel free!" Amy stuck her tongue out at him, although she had to hide a giggle.

"As long as you leave me out of it, do whatever you want," Knuckles put in wearily, sounding much like a parent tired of trying to control his children.

Tails smiled at all of them. Knuckles was right; this day was always crazy, and sure, things got out of hand sometimes. But he had no regrets. It was fun. It was a stupid way of bonding with his brother, and that was something he would never regret.

A Happy April Fools Day, indeed.

[skitariiposting]

How many armies do you have?

Apologies on this taking so long to answer, I attempted to answer it twice on my phone, but Tumblr kept eating my response because it has pictures in it :/ I finally said screw it and moved the pictures over to my computer.

I've got two armies, Adpetus Mechanicus and Death Guard!

They are the Submechanicus and the Depth Guard respectively.

The Submechancius uses The Makers Cult's "Dark Mechanicus" models as a base and have involved quite a bit of digital and physical kitbashing. I'm going for a more "20,000 leagues under the sea/Bioshock" theme. The Depth Guard was originally going to be a similar kitbashing scenario, but I ended up finding a modeler named MEZGIKE who's been making a death guard line that was exactly what I was looking for called the "Dredge." They're absolutely phenomenal, I love their sculpts to bits!

To tear back the curtain a bit, before I adopted the mantle of Skitariiposting I was primarily a Death Guard player - still am behind the scenes actually. I love admech's aesthetics, units, lore, game, gimmicks, characters, and everything else about them but I just for the life of me can't pull good stats on the tabletop. So when I'm wanting to play serious, I fall back to my nurgle roots.

This is partially why I've been posting less of my own admech stuff, I've been working on my Death Guard minis in the background and I'm wanting to finish them up so I can play them IRL at my local gameshop and at my friends place. I'm planning on doing some Admech here and there as a palate cleanser between DG models though, as I love painting them a lot :]

Also, I've got a little extra tidbit about where I get the models I paint below that I started going into a spiel about, but half way through I realized it didn't really pertain to your question. Just so it doesn't go to waste, I'm still going to include it just in case you or anyone else would like to know more about it.

I've had a couple folks ask where to get these minis, so I want to specify that I 3D print my minis with a resin printer. I buy the digital files and then run them through my printer to get them. If you have a printer and want to know where I get the digital files from, let me know and I'll send you some links!

While it takes a lot more effort and care, I like the unique look I can achieve with it! Others have also asked why I don't get official models and it's not like I can't afford or don't want to get the official James Workshop minis, I've painted a couple in the past for friends, but its mostly because I just like working with resin minis. The fact it's a bit cheaper to do so is also an appreciated bonus ;]

[arcadia-of-pluto]

More LADS ideas

Hey guys! I'll definitely write some more drabbles soon BUT I have a really good idea that I wanted to share with you all!

I'm not sure if it's been done before (and if it has, then that's okay), but my idea was to have a LADS x reader but the MC is still present. It's probably going to be difficult to workshop this idea– but I'm going to really try!

So my idea was that the reader (you) possibly just wake up in the game. Maybe in a field of flowers just outside of Linkon to really show that you don't belong here, instead of waking up in a nice, warm bed. It really sets in that you are stuck here and have to work your way from the ground up. In a world where the main character shares your name and appearance.

That's right, the mc is still going to look like you and have the same name as you, but that's where the similarities end. She will have her Anhausen Class evol while you...You'll have your own Anhausen Class evol, a direct opposite of hers and your level can be determined unlike her's (since her evol is unstable and the level can't be measured).

That's all the ideas I have so far, since I just wrote it all up, but I know what evol you'll have! I just don't know if I'll have it be a specific x reader or with all of the guys or just have an ending for each of the guys. I feel like it's going to be a bit difficult to pull them away from the MC since she's their reincarnated lover, but I'm going to try.

I also think it would be fun to have the reader think they've become the mc and then you see her from aware with one of the male leads and you're like "...what the fuck–". So then, you go into panic mode because you're worried they'll kill you if they see you. You realize that if someone wants to kidnap mc, they might kidnap you on accident. Stuff like that. It's honestly going to be a stressful ride, I feel. But I'm torn between the reader wanting to hide out and live a normal life, so you just get a job or trying to literally flee the country. Maybe living in Snowcrest would be fun. You could hide out there and live with the elderly doctor (I genuinely forgot his name) and his fox, Pie.

I definitely got to come up with more ideas before I can write this one though– let me know if there's anything you want to see! I've definitely been slacking on my oneshots, I haven't written in any of them since I posted their teasers 😞 but don't worry, nothing is discontinued! I'll work on them soon (or eventually)

That's all for now though! 🩷

Edit; now that i think about it, I'm going to add a poll for if the mc should look like the reader or not! Since some LADS mcs are just your ocs and you didn't model them after yourself. This information would definitely help me when writing this in the future, so if the highest result is "not looking like you" then I'll just come up with a name for the mc and describe her as "looking like your mc" instead of identical to you.

In retrospect, this is probably a dumb question, but I just wanted to make sure! Because, of course, it would be cool if she looked exactly like you and had the same name, but if she didn't, you wouldn't have to hide and try to disguise yourself so the male leads don't potentially kill you, you don't get kidnapped, people don't think you're her, and stuff like that.

Because it would probably be very difficult to get a job in a world you just wound up in. Especially if you have no form of ID or birth certificate, so I've got to really think about this tbh—

[changingplumbob]

CW: Low level sim spice & Language - Guide to Content Warnings

Coleman: Was he making fun of my name or was that an old person joke

Jackson: Fucked if I know. Hey Glenn, Glenn, did you get a prize for second place

Coleman: Don't worry if you didn't because we know just what to get you

Glenn: And what would that be...

Jackson: We'll... throw you a pity party!

The twins burst out laughing but Glenn finds it easier to shrug off than he thought he would. Hey if their taunting was going to help him move on, bring it!

Glenn: Wow, did it take you all day to think of that? Or did you need to workshop it the entire time I was busy

Jackson: *laughing* A pity party! Watcher I'm hilarious

Coleman: I'll play you a moving ballad on my violin so everyone can cry as much as you

Jackson: And I can write a special poem on the death of your relationship, it'll be all poignant and stuff

Glenn: Because you know all about relationship death right

Coleman: Oh, want some ice for that burn bro

Jackson: At least I get laid. You went for how long and didn't get any tail? Embarrassing

Glenn: Not really. Some of us are looking for more than just physical connection

Coleman: Unlike those guys that got it on in Grayson's bed

Jackson: *chuckling* Dude that was so funny

Glenn: Actually that was beyond a violation of privacy and trust

Coleman: What do you think? Glenn's mad because he wasn't invited to join them for a threesome

Jackson: Like he'd even know what to do with a dick other than faint. First or second loser probably still has his cherry

Coleman: If you're nice to us Glenn maybe we'll let you practice on us. But one at a time because we're queer not incesty

Glenn: Thanks but infant is not my type. Neither are people who make up words like incesty. A real vocabulary is attractive, you should think about investing in one sometime

Jackson: You're just mad we're young and fresh faced

Coleman: And depressed you're going to be single forever

Glenn: I survived far worse than your taunting when I was growing up you know

The twins smirked and stood up. For a moment Glenn thought through what shielding spells he knew but it turned out that they were just refilling the food bowls for their dogs who were coming in. Thrash was white with a blue harness, and Throttle was black with a red collar.

Jackson: Thrash! Throttle! Food!

Coleman: Oh hey Glenn, why didn't you pet Olive? The challenge for that day was literally interact with Olive. Did the producers not tell you

Jackson: Are you like anti dog or something

Coleman: Even idiots know if you want in with the owners you spoil the pets

Jackson: But not so much that you're stealing their affections. One time I tried befriending this girls cat and she said she'd rather I sleep with her sister so I did

Glenn: Look, I'm not actually here to talk to you two

Coleman: Oh no, we've been slighted. I'm gonna die from that blow

Jackson: How will my social life ever recover if Glenn the first or second loser won't talk to me

Glenn: Phoebus said Henri would be here

Coleman: He'll get back from the bakery in a bit unless he's shagging another customer

Jackson: He can't stand to be without us for long

Coleman: We're his favourite people

Glenn rather doubted it but it seemed in poor taste to criticize legal orphans for claiming to be beloved so he let them carry on.

Previous ... Next

[vinnsley]

Hi there!! You cool with a daughter of Iris reader x Leo Valdez where Leo is stressed out about a project so y/n cheers Leo up by turning his project different colors and stuff? Thanks, have a great day!! Here, have a song rec too: Copacabana by Barry Manilow(English version)

Haven't written for pjo before... hoping i'll get leos character right💀🙏

TW/Info: none except FEM [Y/N], short drabble, fluff, max colors and set clothing ig😹

[--------------]

You've been a camper at Camp Half-Blood for awhile now, being a daughter of Iris, fighting wasn't really your strong suite, but you weren't weak either. You could keep yourself alive out there alone for a bit. Atleast.

And it has been a few days since you've seen your boyfriend, Leo, at all recently. You thought he might be at a quest or something, but after seeing Piper still at camp, you made the proud deduction that no quest has started without your knowledge.

So you decided that you'll raid the Hephaestus Cabin when you have the chance tomorrow... you were already laying in your bunk inside your cabin with your siblings already dead asleep, or reading a book to pass the time while they couldn't sleep.

Soon enough, tomorrow rolled around, being woken up by one of your cabinmates for the morning far earlier than normal, just as you requested.

You thought that if you woke up earlier then you might be able to catch Leo going to the workshop or what he called it as... honestly, you had a hard time deciphering what he was saying when he was more excited than a young kid on christmas day seeing their presents under the tree.

You quickly got dressed — Your bright orange camp shirt (Which in all honesty, you hated the color.), your dark blue jeans with your converse — And your short rainbow scarf you usually wore in your hair before putting your hair in a pony tail.

You quickly rush out of your cabin, not even thinking about closing the door as you run trough the camp, to Leo's workshop.

Not long after you find the entrance, it being wide open and you hear some type of... mechanical noises from the inside?

You went closer, peeking inside and spotting your objective — Leo's body peeking out from the inside of Festus as the dragon was resting while he worked.

You walked inside, walking closer as Festus opened it's eyes, now staring at you approaching. Leo not even taking notice of you at all.

"So this is where you've been all this time?" Your voice spoke as Leo almost immedieatly hit his head in Festus' body, before raising his head out of the mechanical dragon with wide eyes as he stared at you.

"Mi amor! I-I didn't expect to see you today!" He said, chuckling nervously as he scratched the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen you in days, Leo. It made me worry slightly." You responded, before walking closer towards Festus' leg, placing your hands on your hip.

Leo chuckled again. "Sorry. My bad. Was kinda too focused on fixing a part inside Festus." He grunted. "I just can't get it right." He grumbled under his breath and chucked his head back into Festus' back.

"Y'know... a break sounds way better than this."

"What do you mean a break? I need to finish this!

"What you need is a break!" You shot back, scoffing as you leaned your shoulder against Festus as you stared at Leo's lower body poking out from Festus.

But absent-mindedly, as you adjusted your position, you reached your hand and put it on Festus, and suddenly, instead of the goldish yellow color... he became bright rainbow colored.

Leo froze as he saw the change (from the inside? You guessed.) as he quickly wiggled himself out and stood on-top of Festus.

"Woah." He said as he looked across Festus' new look. "You could do that?"

You glanced at Festus' torso and Leo awkwardly. "Uh. I guess. I can change object's colors. Could do this since... forever. Y'know." You shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

"Since forever? Dude! You never told me!" He said. "You should've told me! My inventions could've been way cooler with a touch of color instead of—" He said before he cut himself off as you raised an eyebrow in response.

"Y'know... Mi Amor... Some of my inventions do need a new paintjob..." He smirked as he slid down from Festus' back, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Please?" He said with a charming smile.

You raised an eyebrow. "This whole charming thing isn't really working when you smell like oil and like you haven't showered in weeks." You point out.

"Well, excuse you, but i am taking showers. Quite frequently to get rid of the smell." He stated with a pout.

You chuckled as you smirked. "I know, i know. I'll also try to color in your inventions, doofus." You respond.

He grinned happily at that, immedieatly pulling you towards the desk that was situated in the room, with a bunch of materials and tools, Leo rummaging around at the mess and gather them on the middle of the desk.

Awhile later, many gadgets, tools even material at this point was different colors than usual. Even Festus was now pink and blue with some white here and there. Both of you were now on the back of Festus, Leo peeking his head out of the poptart look-alike.

"Finally fixed the issue." He said with a soft smile on his face. He seemed more at ease than you ever did before, in all honesty. This whome color-adventure winded him down slightly, but he was happy, it showed. "You really should've told me you can do this... i would've loved to have you here to color my projects." He said, staring at you softly before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

[--------------]

tried my best w this one💔

small extra;

"Yeah, yeah. This may be all fun and games... but i'm pretty winded, Leo." You said.

"So? What's the problem with being tired?" He asked, looking at you as he put another project you colored away.

"I probably can't color everything back..." You revealed.

Leo's eyes went wide, before the two of you looked at Festus. The dragon only snorted out smoke from it's nostrils...in annoyance if you guessed.

"So Festus is staying as a fake poptart?" Questioned Leo.

"...Guess so. You might have to get used to this new version of Festus." You said. "Might take awhile before i could color him back..." You giggled.

[yuurivoice]

Is there an estimated release time for the Bittersweet Director's Cut?

We were aiming for before the end of November but I'm thinking at this point to give us enough time to reallyyyyy do all the promo I want to do for it, I might bump it into December and get that good Christmas synergy?

As much as I want it out, I don't want to squander a good build. If I really worked my ass off, we could break 1k in the premiere. I would love that.

Maybe I'll do a stream to break down some of my promo plans and we can workshop the whole process together and you guys can get some insight into what goes into this sort of thing and also give suggestions!

I want to not only promote the new stuff, but also chapter 2 and 3, across all of my social media. So good capcut templates, a new trailer, still images, etc etc and some other creative ideas.

Getting a few weeks of promo will really help.