#i scheduled all the posts in advance so i have no idea if anyone actually cared lol

[danderria]

And that's it for my Dungeons and Daddies in The Sims 4 project! This was a blast. I hope you had fun, I know I did

You can find all the families on the Sims 4 gallery with my Gallery ID danderria or #dndadssims4!

If anyone's wondering about the Season 3 characters... They also exist, just not in The Sims 4... Stay tuned for the next six days! I think Matt would enjoy them 👀

Thank you again to the DNDADS fan creators out there. I truly would not have been able to complete this project without your works for inspiration

Check out all characters in this project here

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[putschki1969]

Hi Sarah! Hope you are well! I will be in Japan on January 15th, so i can't lose the incredibile opportunity to go to the concert. I waited for the general lottery hoping that it would be aviable on the international e+ stite, but unfortunatley it seems it is not the case.

I tryed with sos japan but they are not answering me, and with bridge but they told me they are full or requests and so can't help me.

I would appreciate it very much if you can suggest me something to get these tickets. Thank you!

Hello there!

I am so sorry for the late reply. You sent this while I was travelling last week so I didn't notice the new message in my inbox. I am happy to hear that you will be in Japan next January. Of course you'd want to use that opportunity to attend the Kalafina, I totally understand.

However, I am afraid we are already at a point where it's pretty tricky to get tickets.

Ticket sales are scheduled for the following dates: ■Wakana/KEIKO Fan Club Advanced Lottery October 10, 2024, 11:00 - October 20, 23:59 ■Hikaru X (formerly Twitter) Advanced Lottery October 25, 11:00 - November 4, 23:59 ■General Ticket Lottery November 9, 11:00 - November 11, 23:59 ■General Sale November 16, 10:00 -

We have gone through all the ticketing stages and it appears like there are no more tickets left on the e+ general sale. This is actually quite surprising since I didn't expect the concert to be sold out so quickly. The venue is huge and judging from everyone's dismissive reactions on Twitter, I had assumed that not many people were actually planning to attend. Guess the mood on Twitter didn't reflect the high demand of the general public.

From what I could tell, almost everyone who applied for the Wakana/KEIKO fan club ticket lotteries won a ticket so they must have had a lot of tickets available for those. A majority of all fan club members seems to have made use of that preliminary lottery because for the subsequent Hikaru lottery, there were quite a few people who didn't manage to win a ticket. The same applies to the general lottery. I saw several tweets of people being sad that they didn't win anything during that. Unfortunately, the general lottery period was very short so it would have been necessary to contact SOSJapan or a similar service very early in advance to figure out what you needed.

The general sale was over super quickly too so there are currently no official options available.

They might have plans to offer some left-over tickets on the overseas e+ site but they haven't announced anything yet in that regard. Knowing Space Craft, they will totally ignore Kalafina's overseas fanbase so I wouldn't count on that....

I know that a lot of tickets were bought by shady resellers who are now offering them for crazy prices on some random sites but for one, that's illegal so I wouldn't recommend going down that route and two, it would be a real hassle for a foreigner to even get their hands on one of those resold tickets so meh, not the best idea.

Your best bet right now is to ask around in fandom spaces and see if anyone got spare tickets. The good news is that many people applied for more than one ticket (myself included). The bad news is that most of those people will already have found someone to give their extra tickets to (myself included).

I will ask here on this blog and see if anyone can offer a spare ticket to you. If there's no one, you will have to ask around on other sites. You should probably check out the cantaperme forum or a number of different Kalafina Facebook communities and a post on Twitter can't hurt either (although you'll have to tag everything properly so the post reaches a good amount of people).

【Request】 Kalafina Anniversary Ticket

Does anyone still have a spare ticket for the upcoming Kalafina Anniversary Live? If you do, please contact me or @red------moon directly. Thank you!

【Update】 Spare Ticket Found

Great news! @hadi-sama has some spare tickets and is offering them to fellow loyal fans who are still in need of one. Thank you so much for your swift reply! @red------moon, please be sure to contact either me or him ASAP to figure out all the details. Thank you!

[novella-november]

So uh, how are you planning to enforce the "no AI" rule? What do you plan to do if a participant is accused of using unacceptable software?

There's no submissions and no enforcement.

If someone is posting the in #Novella November & #NovellaNovember tags:

clearly-AI generated content (such as AI-generated book covers)

bragging about using AI

Talking about how they used x AI program to make X part of the book

etc

Then I can guarantee you they're going to simply be blocked by a few thousand writers en masse.

Probably they will get at least a few people trying to talk to them about the harm that AI does, and better alternatives that don't mass-steal from a few million unconsenting people--

alternatives like:

finding someone to partner with to discuss your ideas for brainstorming instead of asking an AI chatbot

.

Joining a "secret gift" group where everyone digitally "pulls a name out of a hat" or is randomly selected to make a cover for someone else's book idea

.

commissioning an actual artist for a cover

.

youtube tutorials on how to use GIMP as a free Photoshop alternative to make your own cover, with links to sites such as Pexels that have free stockphotos for anyone to use

.

Choosing a lower, more manageable daily word count goal if 1k or 500 is too out of line with your work schedule/ability to write on your own instead of resorting to AI generation to try to make up the difference out of anxiety

.

finding alternative medias to 'write' with, such as using an app on your phone or the in-built accessibility features on Windows that let you use your voice to type, so if you can't physically type or write with your hands or other limbs, you can instead dictate your novel outloud, which would also work if you are often away from home or can't actively use your phone but *can* record your voice passively as you work with your hands on another task :)

so...... yeah.

Literally the only things that would happen if someone tries to use AI in the #Novella November and #NovellaNovember tags would be the writing community collectively:

attempting some outreach; education is key to realizing the harm being done, after all! Maybe the person just doesn't know any better, and felt like that was their only option to reach their goal.

blocking the person, and if they're actively malicious in their AI use (such as fully knowing how much it harms writers/artists, how much of it is based on plagarism, or actively going out of their way to steal other people's work) people will probably start warning others about them as well so they can be blocked in advance, the same as other people who are harmful to communities.

This is a community initiative, spearheaded by this blog purely because I came up with the idea first and want to make sure that, at least to start out and as long as I can manage it, the community is the key part of being supporting and caring of each other, because billion dollar tech companies and those who are swayed by their money sure as heck aren't going to stand with us.

If someone is ""accused of using unacceptable software"" ..... they're just gonna get blocked if they're posting AI generated content, like everyone else who posts AI generated content get blocked by the community at large as they're encountered.

I'll repeat again: this is a community initiative, not an organization. There's no submissions people are sending anywhere to "confirm" word counts; --

Only:

people posting their celebrations and woes in the tag,

posting their frustrations and questions,

receiving answers and advice from the community,

sharing art and snippets, making covers, making decorative goal cards,

No AI is allowed in Novella November -- if people are posting or bragging about using AI generated content, they're simply going to be announcing themselves to thousands of writers (plus everyone who follows those writers) that they're a good person to block and never interact with 🤷

[ofmdrecaps]

07/03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Ruibo Qian; Dominic Burgess; Samba Schutte; Logie Awards; AdoptOurCrew; Auxillery Wardrobe Zine; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlight Cont'd; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

New month, new blog! Thanks everyone, as you probably can tell there's a new blog for the recaps! I'm doing this to allow for some more silly shenanigans to happen on my main, but also keep the recaps available and more easily accessible to those who want them! For the first few weeks I'll be reblogging them from main, but then will eventually move to just here so as not to overwhelm anyone following. Thanks so much for reading! I love doing these and I was actually surprised how many people followed! I didn't realize so many people were reading, so tysm that warms my heart and made my day!

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys will be join Baron Vaughn and Rory Scovel on AfterMidnight with Taylor Tomlinson on July 8th, 3 PM PST in Los Angelos, CA! Are you in the area? You can request tickets on their website!

Source: 1iota's Instagram

Next up-- Peacock has posted an exclusive clip of the upcoming The Hungry Games: Alaska's Big Bear Challenge-- starring the voice of our very own Rhys Darby!

== Taika Waititi ==

Awesome new promo for Time Bandits! I'm gonna keep reminding you because I'm actually super psyched for this. July 24th on Apple TV!

Source: Matt_Grace_Photography

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie out with the LA Sparks! <3 Also, did you know Leslie will be voicing a character in the New Hulu series Hit Monkey? I didn't know! New seasons starts July 15th!

Source: LA Sparks IG / JoshuaGordon

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our Pirate Queen is going to be taking on the role of Ms. Sherlock Holmes in Ms.Holmes & Ms.Watson in APT 2B at the Old Globe Theatre in San Deigo CA! You can buy tickets for July 27th, opening day -- or any of the showings here!

Source: OldGlobeTheatre Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is gracing us once again with cat pics. I love it <3

Source: Dominic Burgess' Twitter

== Samba Schutte ==

More pictures with Samba at Dancing with Fire LA with the cast / crew of Advanced Chemistry!

Source: alecmoore219's Instagram

== Logie Award Nominations ==

REMINDER! Our beloved Mads, aka Eddie Redcliffe in Deadloch, aka The Baddest MF in Tasmania, has been nominated for a 2024 Logie for Best Lead Actress! So was Kate Box, her costar, and Deadloch was nominated for Best Scripted Comedy Program!

-- and guess what? It's done by vote! If you feel so inclined, please take a moment to go and vote for our dear Archie/Deadloch (or Dulcie whomever you'd like)! https://vote.tvweeklogies.com.au/ Note: You do need to use your email to submit, just FYI!

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Looks like something exciting will be coming soon from @adoptourcrew! I think I might have an idea what it may be related to...

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine ==

There's a new non-profit charity zine starting up-- in honor of our beloved Captain Stede and OFMD!

"From his flamboyant coats to his sword-slashed shirts, we want to celebrate EVERY way that Stede and fashion come together! Whether this be a canon look you're fond of, his job as a luxury fashion designer in an AU, or Stede in a style of clothing you personally love (or lack of clothing… pinups anyone?!) we encourage contributors to make this prompt their own. This zine will be a digital-only PDF and will consist of a SFW edition and a NSFW edition featuring fanart and fanfic. All proceeds for the zine will go to Care for Gaza."

Want to learn more? You can visit their carrd.co below for scheduling and FAQ's!

Info & FAQ: https://auxiliarywardrobezine.carrd.co

Artist & Writer Signups will start July 6, 2024!

Follow them on Instagram and Twitter!

Source: The Auxiliary Wardrobe: A Stede Bonnet Zine

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlights ==

Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week may be over, but that doesn't mean the spotlights have to end! Tonight we have the fantastic @hameko1019! I absolutely adore her style and use of color! You can check her work out on Hameko1019's Twitter! Thank you again to @garlicsoupweek for the wonderful prompts!

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Bonus

Source: Hameko1019's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card by our fantastic @melvisik is Jordan Feldman who "was listed as 'Heavily Made-Up Man' in The Best Revenge is Dressing Well."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Well lovelies, you've made it half way through another week. Only half more to go-- for those of you in the UK, good luck at the elections! For those in the US, tomorrow is July 4th, and while I know there are mixed feelings this year in the US, please remember to take some time to relax and enjoy a day off if you have it.

You're doing so very well friends. There is SO much going on in the world, so much going on in the fandom, so much going on in your lives. But you are still kicking, and I'm so very proud of you for that. If you need to take a break-- do it. Give yourself some grace and get some rest, the world will still be there in a few days. If you've already done that and you're taking some time to yourself-- great job-- you deserve it. Remember that we will still be here, and we will still love you when you get back. Ed and Stede? Still in love when you get back. They're off terrorising some poor patron of their Inn with stories of being gut stabbed, or forcing them to watch a puppet show they came up with.

You're kicking ass at whatever struggles you are dealing with right now-- give yourself time to celebrate the fact you're surviving them. Rest well lovelies, see you soon <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is these two goof balls singing. Someone help me find Taika singing Queen, cause then we'll have some gif smushes <3 Tonight's gifs courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset and @eddie-redcliffe!!

[somefinn-g]

Hiii everyone, just now an idea for a Hermitcraft + Friends train based AU popped into my mind, I wrote down my first thoughts

now I'd like to know if anyone would be interested or not (I'm currently obsessing a bit over trains :'3)

have fun reading

Mumbo

train broken from redstone explosion

lives "temporarily" in one of his passenger wagon that survived

Grian

plagues everyone by being a blind passenger, clawing himself to the roof

never had an own train

"pesky civilian"

kinda lives with mumbo (guy doesn't care too much about the "annoying" nature of Grian, he got other problems)

Scar

Zoo train

often visited by Grian

jokes about Grian living in his train because of his avian features

Bdubs

Doesn't really have an actual train but rather a horse carriage

get yelled at a lot by Joel because of the horses

almost all other hermits find them the cutest

4 person max if you prefer comfort

"smelly" - Joel

Docm77

kinda DB (is the most punctual person, but can never arrive anywhere on time)

somehow the most advanced train but there always something breaking (only when ppl look, when he's alone everything works of course)

gets asked to build a tunnel system a lot - he always refuses

gets asked if his tunnel can be used for the train tracks - he refuses

gets asked if he can help with the tra-

lives very far away from everyone

amphibia train because the tracks to his place aren't in the best shape

has a rail leading to nowhere !?

Postal service (Pearl + Etho)

The post system

Tango helped them out a lot

Etho does the more technical stuff

Pearl does the delivery and take in of the packages

Etho is never really seen around (he works on a secret project ?)

Pearl doesn't own her own transportation vehicle, but loves to use the postal van for her own deeds (nobody minds, take it as a work benefit)

Z. I. T. S. train company (Zedaph, Impulse, Tango, Skizz, Joel, Jimmy, Cub, Cleo)

they got a thing going on

Tango and Impulse want to create the most technical advanced train the world has ever seen

Joel is a train conductor in their main line passenger Train

Jimmy is the engine driver tho he finds his job boring

Lizzie tho not officially hired loves to drive the train (she kicks Jimmy out which he happily obiges) while Joel is working (he sneaks to her into the driver's cabin on his "brakes")

Jimmy is the only one, except for Joel, who knows about Lizzie driving the train (or maybe not)

Jimmy and Joel tolerate somewhat of Grian visiting them at work, Joel says "it's less boring with this idiot here" Jimmy thinks alike (maybe not the idiot part, sometimes he thinks he's more of an idiot, at least his clumsiness makes him feel that way)

Grian definitely didn't blackmail Joel and Jim (no Tim) because he saw Lizzie in the driver's seat (but nobody would probably believe him anyway if he one day decides to tell on Lizzie, his reputation of being an annoying prankster has exceeded him by far)

Joel always yells at bdubs because he's scared of getting the train delayed and he hates horses

Zedaph works as an engine driver too (Lizzie always needs to be careful not to accidentally walk in on him, because he sometimes replaces Jimmy last minute)

Gem, tho not alway very enthusiastically, helps out when someone falls ill (the pay isn't shabby so "why not" she thinks)

Gem owns a small boat on which she sometimes sleeps, she can't live on it completely because it would be to isolating

Gem loves to poke fun of Joel at work because she knows he's been scolded for ruckus behaviour before and now he needs to swallow his pride to the amusement of Gem (Lizzie, tho not in front of others at work, loves to join in on these shenanigans)

Cub is responsible for the train schedule and signals

False

she has the most beautiful steam train on the whole server

for the nostalgic feels she offers tours of the server

false has a wagon refurnished to be her now called home

some other hermits have wagons they live in and false does transport them to other places from time to time

Stress and Iskall

they both own together 3 refurnished wagons

Stress is a true cat lady (we don't know how many cats live with her, the number seems rising every minute)

Iskall isn't very amused by all the fluffy creatures, he implemented the rule that no cat shall enter the shared wagon

Iskalls wagon is a chaos of unfinished projects

Stesses quarters are something every proud mother of 4 legged furr balls could only dream off (Lizzie would definitely want to move in if she ever visited, surely)

False does transport their home to other places when they want a change of scenery (Iskalls excuse for this is always "A new start brings new creative thoughts and a tone of energy" Stress already knows by now that this enthusiasm isn't very long lasting)

i probably rather draw than write if I'll continue with this

[the-owl-house-takes]

So I think the worst take of the fandom is that all of the problems of the show would have been fixed had it gotten a full S3. That literally any problem the show had merely came from the shortening. This is... Well, just blatantly shows that the fandom not only doesn't understand how the animation industry works AND doesn't want to actually look at the narrative they did choose to focus on post the shortening call that were just... baffling.

So first let's establish how much of the show was affected by the Shortening. As a fandom, we found out about it during the hiatus between S1 and 2. This was at earliest, August 2020 since the S1 finale came out late August 2020. Dana has claimed two things that are important to this timeline. 1: The shortening was decided on shortly before the finale came out and 2: That the first episode affected by Covid, which would have been back in March/April, was Looking Glass Ruins. So we EXPLICTLY know that the shortening didn't affect the show until after S2 Ep 5.

BUT then we get into production schedules. Before S2 even BEGAN airing, we were told to stop campaigning for a full S3 because they had to get started on storyboards for the season and that was effectively the firm deadline. This means ALL of S2 was effectively done in script and storyboards by the time S2 aired. This makes sense to keep a weekly schedule and the like and most animation professionals will tell you they work MONTHS in advance of release, bare minimum.

This means, AT BEST, S2B was when the shortening really kicked in. And yes, S2B has pacing issues. It has issues in general and is when most people think the quality of the show dropped. The problem is that... The signs were always there. There's a reason why there's been a backlash because as people become disillusioned with the show, you have to ask what was driving so much before.

And a lot of that was potential. S1 is so good when you first watch it because it keeps teasing the idea that it's going to tackle things in a complex way. That it will explore concepts like Amity's abusive family, magic, fantasy vs reality, etc. like that. It's why the fandom was at its strongest during S1.

Unfortunately, the problem with presenting good ideas and then not executing on them, or completely gutting them is that those old parts are a lot harder to enjoy. As Willow was effectively not a character for half a season and then just suddenly was a jock, people began to realize the fact that she in the show is much more a plot device than anything else. They claimed "We're not doing the one kind act into friendship and forgiveness thing with Amity and Willow" and then literally did NOTHING with it until S2B and eventually DID just do the same trope anyways but now with less resonance than it would have had in Understanding Willow.

Not only that but even S1 didn't give a single shit about its worldbuilding. The First Day has Dana Terrace as a lead writer on it. If anyone knows the worldbuilding best, it should be her... So why is it that no one talks about multi-coven things being illegal? It's literally just used as meta commentary and so they entirely ignore the worldbuilding they have. Reaching Out is exactly the same, with Dana as the SOLE writer of that where Amity and everyone else treats joining a coven like going to college and not literally the word of the law.

But S1 couldn't even keep Wild Witches consistent. Half the time Eda can chill and not worry. She can go to a place funded by the EC like Hexide and not flinch for a second that Bump might call the guards on her despite that being kind of the ONE real rule to their society that makes it not just our world but with teeth. Then again, the show gives NO FUCKS about its own stuff, willing excising portions of itself that it finds cumbersome. Escaping Expulsion is BEFORE Looking Glass Ruins and yet it murders Luz's magical potential in its sleep and also discards Amity's family as easily disposable, despite how much the show claims her mother's influence is the reason why Amity behaved the way she did for all of... Three appearances? Because Amity's arc isn't actually good.

It shouldn't be surprising S2 would do this though when the writers already struggled to do anything with Luz's magic. If she's supposed to be learning and growing... Even S1 is shit at this and is repetitive. Not just with the at least three times we do "King has a minion!" B plot that isn't funny and doesn't do anything but also with its lessons. Luz theoretically learns to listen to Eda in the third episode and arguably the second as well. Then she gets her first glyph with the lesson, in theory. of not trying to take shortcuts to do magic and to not steal. And then in Adventure in the Elements, not even to impress Amity but because of her impatience, she steals something to take a shortcut to stronger magic. That is THREE episodes of the first TWELVE of the series. It usually takes most kids shows at least a LITTLE longer to be that bad at retreading its own lessons.

And the final part of this is that... S2 actually had to be effectively the exact same as it was for s3 to happen. You need the foreshadowing of the Collector for the Day of Unity. You need to FINALLY do something with Belos for the revelations of the Human Realm to happen and to do Luz's angst arc. You need Hunter to be at least 90% redeemed so he's there on their side during The Day of Unity, etc. like that. Then you get half a season in the human realm before coming back to the Isles for half a season, just like Amphibia did because returning home is the best mid-season finale you can have there. So any argument that a full S3 would have actually fixed issues with S2B is just... Wrong. The problems with S2B come with the fact that S2A wastes a FUCKTON of time on elements that don't matter.

Oh, and lest we forget that The Collector could have been cut. He had one appearance in a dream, that also doesn't make sense with his characterization, before S2B. In the fact, the crew has admitted as much. He was added AFTER the news of the Shortening because they always wanted to include a character like him so now that they didn't have the time for him... Cram him in anyways.

Could a show have EVER been saved when that's how they treat one of their two final antagonists? It's the sort of statement that just solidifies the idea that TOH didn't want three seasons. It wanted five... If not just to go on forever. To be the next monolithic show, even as it repeats character arcs, lessons and shrinks characters rather than expands them.

So no, the show isn't bad because of the shortening. The show is bad because the writing is bad.

-

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 15: Seas of Green

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Din Djarin does not do things by halves.

Word Count: 10,912

Author's Note/Chapter warnings: Be warned—This chapter has some teeth-rotting fluff, a sprinkle of a PTSD flashback for Alaina, and some more fluff. Oh, also, I would like to post about a missing smut monster. I went to feed it this morning, and it was gone. So, if anyone happens to stumble across him, let me know 😈

🎵Chapter soundtrack🎵 ‘Through Me (The Flood) - Hozier.

MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 15: Seas of Green

“Is that all you’ve got?” Mando taunted her.

Alaina growled at the Mandalorian, spinning her staff before charging at him again. Like she was an annoying fly hovering around his helmet, he batted her away, easily blocking her staff with his forearm. The wood vibrated under her hands after striking his beskar vambrace, and she wondered how much longer the wooden staff she’d been gifted on Sorgan would hold up when being wielded against someone with beskar armor.

His silver beskar helmet shook in disappointment after he blocked her latest attack. “You’re leading again,” he reprimanded her. “I’m not your dance partner. Stop putting your plans on display.”

She rolled her eyes but relented with a tired nod at his critique. 

Alaina lost track of time or the days after they arrived on the moon. They kept their schedule the same, more or less, every day. 

The early morning was set aside for sparing, sometimes hand to hand, sometimes with weapons. After they completed those lessons, Alaina would complete whatever barbaric exercises or physical activity Mando seemed to have dreamed up before she had earned a break. A couple of hours in the afternoon were for her working with Grogu on meditation and focusing his powers. However, her favorite part of the day was the evenings when the three of them ended every night talking and eating dinner together in front of the fire.

Alaina was surprisingly nervous as she sat cross-legged across from the green child during their first session. She felt wildly unqualified to teach someone such skills, but after one look at Grogu’s huge dark eyes staring up at her, she began with a nod. She started with meditation. Maker, she hated meditating as a child. At least Grogu didn’t throw temper tantrums like she did when she began each lesson with meditation. He did, however, fall asleep almost every time. She would be a liar if she didn’t admit that she had also fallen asleep during their first session.

It was difficult to gauge either of their progress. For starters, Grogu couldn’t exactly talk, so she wasn’t sure how much of her nervous ramblings he understood. Part of her thought that Grogu was merely placating her, but she didn’t have any proof to back her up that thought. She knew from the previous visions he’d shared with her that the green womp rat had had training with actual Jedi before, so Alaina’s lessons with him were likely underwhelming for the child. 

As for her own progress… or, perhaps, lack of progress was a better description. She’d made no advancements toward unlocking her previous abilities. After a week of hitting the proverbial brick wall, Alaina was coming around to the idea that her former powers had been lost forever. The recurring headache that came with each session was only another indicator that she should probably throw in the towel.

As for her and Mando…

Things between them, as usual, were confusing and difficult to define.

Something shifted between them after that first night in front of the fire. For the first time, Alaina felt that things were finally open between the two of them. Both of them had their darkest secrets in the open now. There was an ease in their day-to-day activities that came with the familiarity of having known someone for years. Well, she supposed that technically, she had known him for years… However, in a different way, Alaina felt as if she had not truly learned who he was until he dropped that bomb in that mechanic’s hangar and said that he had a plan to keep her out of the hands of the Empire. That he had intended to save her… Alaina hadn’t forgiven herself for that.

She didn’t think she ever would.

Mando had yet to bring it up. Instead, the Mandalorian was focused solely on her training. She expected nothing less from her beskar sentinel. The former ballerina found herself thankful to learn that Mando was a great instructor as long as she wasn’t behind the controls of his precious Razor Crest.

On their second full day on their little slice of heaven, Alaina woke up sore and dreading to see whatever Mando had in store for her. She’d been thrilled when he didn’t make her do another lap around the lake after they completed the second day of her training. Her enthusiasm was short-lived when he forced her to work on her upper body strength by doing push-ups, pull-ups, and boxing. Every day, he found some new way to torture her after their sparring match. When the day came that he made her do another lap around the lake, Alaina finally figured out the pattern and realized that they must have been here for a week already.

“You’ve really put some thought into this, haven’t you?” she had asked him before heading out on her hike. 

After her comment, she noticed his first tell—his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was embarrassed. She thought it was adorable. He could still be so expressive even when he was covered from head to toe, and she was surprised she hadn’t noticed it before.

Touched by his thoughtfulness, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on his beskar cheek before turning to head to the lake without another word. Her grin only grew when she heard Mando sigh behind her before grumbling, “Come on, kid.”

Alaina smirked at him when he caught up with her, but before she could open her mouth to tease him, he said, “It’s good for me to stretch my legs too.”

Alaina quirked an eyebrow at his words, and he silently bumped his shoulder into hers as they walked together. Mando had told her she'd done it in six hours the first time she hiked around the lake. This time around, she made it a point to stop to pick some yellow berries with Grogu, and the two of them forced Mando to eat some with them. No one was in a rush to finish between their frequent stops. Mando didn't seem disappointed it took the three of them eight the second time.

Thus began their dance.

Despite Mando’s argument that he wasn’t her dance partner, Alaina had to disagree. Training and living with him was a bit like learning how to dance with a new partner—learning their tricks, strengths, and weaknesses, and how to trust one another.

She paused at the word trust. She trusted him—she did. 

However, Alaina was struggling to tell him that she had forgiven him. 

She’d attempted to tell the Mandalorian a handful of times over the last week that he was forgiven, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, she could never find the words. Alaina couldn’t figure out why. The man had proved himself. Repeatedly. Her mind had been wounded deeply over the last five years, and every time she opened her mouth to forgive the Mandalorian in his silver armor, something stopped her. A single thought stopped her from following through—

Why didn’t Mando say anything? Why didn’t he even try to clue her into his plan?

Those kinds of thoughts made her uneasy.

How different would things be now if he had told her of his plans? Would she have believed him? Would Penn and the Empire have still found her anyway? Would she and Mando be friends? Would they have shared the same moments five years ago that they had over the last few months? Or would she be living her own life without sparing a thought about the Mandalorian?

Too many thoughts plagued her mind. Too many what-ifs prevented her from voicing her forgiveness to the Mandalorian to whom she owed her life.

If Mando noticed the slight change in her, he didn’t acknowledge it. He continued to train her, spar with her, hunt and provide for them, play with the kid, and encourage her to regain her lost powers. Between Alaina’s struggle to come to terms with the past and Mando’s continued determination to help her learn how to defend herself, things had never been more tense between the two of them. 

Alaina expected that tension would be a deterrent, hindering their newfound progress. However, that was not the case at all. The tension wasn’t heavy; it wasn’t angry.

It was electric.

They were more aware of each other. When they walked, Alaina felt drawn to Mando like he was a magnet, and when she would drift a little too close, each lingering glance or brush of their fingers would make her cheeks blush, but she never pulled away. Neither did he.

Which only made things more confusing.

Was he as confused about them as she was?

She wanted to ask him about the invisible string that he admitted to feeling connecting them. Had he felt it fray and snap when she broke on Tatooine? Could he still feel it between them? Alaina wondered why she had felt drawn to the Mandalorian more recently. Was it because the damaged and tattered end of her string was trying to rebuild, and it felt drawn to its twin hiding somewhere under layers of beskar and flesh?

“Hey,” Mando’s demanding voice pulled her back to their current sparring match. Alaina blinked and frowned when she realized his hand was wrapped around her staff. “What was lesson one?” he asked with a tilt of his helmet.

Before she had a chance to respond, Mando spun the staff out of her grip, and in the blink of an eye, he had her back pinned to his chest and caged her in with her staff.

“What do you do now?” he asked. The cold metal of his helmet grazed her cheek, and she could feel the rumble against her back. His voice's husky, deep timbre sent a shiver down her spine.

Alaina blushed at their close proximity, finding it difficult to focus on anything other than how close Mando was to her. Things had definitely changed, indeed.

She smirked as an idea came to her mind…

She leaned back against Mando’s chest and wrapped her arms backward, linking them loosely behind his neck. When she felt Mando stiffen behind her, she had to school her features so she wouldn’t give herself away.

“I could always try and flip you over me,” she whispered breathlessly, tugging on his neck so his helmet had a direct line of sight of her chest.

Mando hummed, “You could try.” He pulled the staff tighter against her chest. “Don’t think you’ll get far with that, Tranyc.” Alaina couldn't help but shudder at the sound of his voice dropping as he rumbled his pet name for her.

The sunlight. 

He thought she was the sunlight.

Between Mando’s sweet words, the alcohol, and her sore legs, Alaina had turned into literal goo after their first night.

Despite everything the two of them had been through, she looked forward to ending every night in front of the fire, talking with Mando, just like she enjoyed starting every morning training with him—the physical closeness, the teasing, the borderline flirting between them... For the first time in five years, Alaina finally began to feel like her old self.

“Looks like you lost this round, Tranyc.”

Alaina dropped her arms around his neck and slowly spun in his arms to face him. Mando’s helmet settled on her face, and Alaina gave him a soft smile. She let her hands rub up and down his biceps.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, giving him a little pout. “I still might be able to get out.” Mando cocked his helmet, and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from giggling. “Mando?”

A beat of silence passed between them before Mando finally gave her a low hum.

“What if I want you to be my dance partner?” She gripped his biceps and blinked up at him before she whispered, “Kiss me.”

She could feel the muscles of his biceps tensing briefly after her question before they relaxed as he loosened his grip around her. While the rest of his body seemed to have relaxed, his helmet stayed frozen on her face.

What she would give to see his face right now. To see what his eyes looked like when he was surprised. Would they be warm? Playful maybe? She could still remember how his lips felt against her skin. Even his brief kiss on her cheek left a residual imprint that she could still feel a week later.

“I—” he began, and Alaina felt his arms loosen a little more—

She acted quickly, taking the Mandalorian by surprise. Alaina shot backward, shoving from Mando’s chest, and grabbed her staff that he was barely hanging on to as she ran. She gave her staff a triumphant twirl once she was free from his hold.

“I’m sorry, Mando, who lost that round?” she smirked.

Mando’s helmet moved from where she had been right in front of him before looking at her with what she could only assume was a bewildered expression.

Her smirk blew into a full-blown smile when she watched him cock his helmet. “Clever,” he complimented her, and Alaina could hear the proud grin in his voice.

Alaina gave him a mock bow, “I think besting you means I get to skip the physical torture after this.”

“Is that so?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

Alaina’s eyes flicked down to his boots before looking back at him. She analyzed the stiff set of his shoulders and the slight hunch to his back and realized their sparing session wasn’t over yet. 

The Mandalorian was now hunting her.

With another spin of her staff, Alaina went on the defensive, trying to predict what Mando would do next.

What would Mando have her do in this scenario? Run? Go on the offensive? 

Her eyes flicked around their surroundings. There were no good hiding places. Even in the lavender fields, Mando would just cheat with the settings in his helmet. The forest was a possibility, but she’d have to run past him to make it there, and he would catch her easily. No, running wasn’t an option. 

Fighting it was.

She charged at him, aiming for his legs with her staff. If he was surprised that she went on the attack, Mando didn’t show it. He jumped, avoiding the strike to his legs. She swung again, aiming for his helmet, but he ducked just in time to miss the blow. It also didn’t slow down his advances. 

With a quick pivot, he charged at her. Alaina tried to spin away from him and frowned when she realized he wasn’t aiming for her. After his gloved hand gripped her weapon, she realized he was going for her staff. When the leather glove wrapped around her wooden staff, it was too late for her.

“Shit—” she began but was cut off when Mando yanked the staff from her. She jumped, narrowly avoiding getting knocked on her ass, but the moment her feet touched the ground, Mando spun the staff back at her, taking her to the ground anyway.

The next time Alaina opened her eyes, their moon's soft ground and beautiful sky were gone, and in its place was the cold durasteel floor of the Razor Crest. The cool desert night air of Tatooine drifted into the hold, and standing above her…

Was him.

Calican—she eventually learned was her attacker’s name.

Calican dropped to his knees and grabbed her by her wrists, pinning her to the floor. She froze in fear as she stared up at the vile grin looking down at her. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, and her lungs burned from lack of oxygen because she couldn’t force herself to take a breath.

Not again.

A strangled sob left her lips. This couldn’t be happening again. 

She wouldn’t let it happen again. 

In a panic, Alaina began thrashing. She struggled and screamed and clawed at the man, pinning her to the cold durasteel floor of the Razor Crest. Calican only smiled and dug his hips into her when she began fighting back. “This why he keeps you around, huh? A little something soft and sweet to come back home to?”

She ground her teeth at his question.

Not. Again.

Alaina dug deep into her mind, pleading for her former powers to return and help her. To her surprise, the faint sound of a snake hissing came from the depths of her mind, responding to her call, and she didn’t dare stop to question it. Instead, she gathered all of her strength and, with an angry scream, launched herself at her attacker, flipping them until she now straddled his chest.

The man’s evil smile didn’t budge as he struggled under her, but Alaina held firm. In an attempt to incapacitate him, she wound her arm back and launched a punch at the man’s temple. The moment her fist struck the side of his head, Alaina clenched her eyes shut as intense pain exploded in her hand and radiated up her arm. 

During their boxing lessons, Mando had warned her that punching someone would hurt, but she hadn’t expected it to hurt like that.

Once her breathing was somewhat controlled, Alaina opened her eyes to assess the situation with her attacker, hoping that the man was at least unconscious since her right hand felt broken. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of silver grass and the swaying lavender grass of the moon. 

She wasn’t on Tatooine… There was no attacker…

But there was a Mandalorian lying under her, frozen with his hands up in surrender.

There had never been an attacker. There had never been an attacker… which meant that when she punched the imaginary Calican, she had actually punched Mando in his beskar helmet instead.

“Ow,” Alaina cried, clutching her wrist to her chest.

“Alaina? Alaina, are you with me?” Mando asked, staying deadly still as if he were afraid she would attempt to punch him in his helmet again.

Alaina could only nod. She was in too much pain from striking her fist against a wall of steel. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she cried, her breath coming out as a whoosh, and she now found herself unable to catch her breath.

“It’s okay,” he tried to placate her, making her cry harder. “I wasn’t thinking—”

Alaina shook her head. More tears leaked from her eyes when she felt Mando place a comforting hand on her thigh. “You were doing your job. I just—I blinked, and you weren’t you—I’m sorry. Fuck,” she hissed, gripping her right hand in her left, pulling the throbbing hand tightly against her chest.

“Can I?” Mando asked from his prone position, nodding to her hand.

Alaina's cheeks flushed when she realized she was still straddling the Mandalorian, and she nodded. She started to climb off of him, but Mando stopped her before she could get too far, pulling her back to rest against his chest and allowing her to sit on the ground in the open ‘V’ of his legs. Alaina felt a bit like a child, sitting perpendicular to Mando with her legs resting over his left while her left shoulder rested against his chest.

“I think it’s broken,” Alaina whimpered as more tears came.

“That’s what punching beskar will do to you,” he grumbled as he continued to inspect her hand.

“It seemed to be the right thing to do in the moment,” she grimaced as he tried to extend her fingers.

Mando shook his head, “You’ve broken all the fingers in your hand and your wrist,” he informed her, moving his helmet to look up at her face. “But at least your form is getting better.”

Alaina blinked at his words before she felt her eyes widen in shock. “You’re not mad at me?” she asked him, trying to keep the hurt and pain out of her voice.

“Alaina—” he began and then stopped himself with a shake of his head. “I wasn’t thinking when I took you down. You have nothing to be sorry for. You have every right to be angry with me. This was only a matter of time,” he whispered. “If you don’t think I’m not just as upset with myself as you are with me, then you are sorely mistaken.” He stopped to push some of the sweat-soaked hair back from her face with his glove. “I’m just glad to see that you decided to fight instead of running.”

She hated how her lip trembled as she said, “But I punched you.”

Mando shrugged, “I’d let you do it again if it would help.”

Alaina collapsed against his chest and let the Mandalorian wrap his arms around her while she cried over her broken wrist. She hadn’t expected the flashback to come on so suddenly or seem so real. Her lungs burned while she gasped for air through her cries. She’d been doing so well the last two weeks. She hadn’t even thought about her attacker once in the last week. Everything had been going smoothly; she hadn’t even cried once since that first night in front of the fire when she told Mando about her other ability.

Mando pulled her hand under his helmet, and his lips briefly kissed her broken fingers.

She took a deep, shuddering breath to try and get her emotions back in check, but Mando wasn’t making that easy with his sweet actions.

Maker, why didn’t the idiot just say something to her all those years ago?

The question came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?” she asked, turning her upper body so she could look him in his helmet. There was a silent beat where he seemed to freeze and slowly pulled her hand out from under his helmet. “Five years ago? You said you weren’t going to turn me in… Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, ignoring the pain radiating from her hand.

Silver beskar stared silently back at her.

“Why?” she asked again, wanting an answer.

“I—” Mando began but cut himself off, and Alaina watched the man deflate. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “Honestly, it was a last-minute decision. There were too many variables, and I… I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Alaina turned from the man and saw Grogu had come to stand next to her between Mando’s legs, staring up at the adults with a cautious look. She tried to give him a reassuring smile through her tears, but when she tried to move her hand from Mando’s, pain exploded through her again, and she clutched her hand to her chest, hissing through her pain.

“We need to get your hand fixed,” Mando said, bringing one of his gloved hands to rub reassuring circles on her back. “My bone knitter broke a few years ago. We need to find a place to get you healed.”

Alaina looked up at the beautiful sky, not ready to leave their little moon just yet.

“Patu.”

She looked down at the green toddler and gave him a watery smile. “Sorry to ruin our vacation, little one,” she apologized, giving Grogu a sad smile.

Mando’s fingers scratched her upper back as he said, “We can always come back.”

Alaina shrugged. She hadn’t been ready to leave the little bubble that they had created here. Leaving would mean rejoining the rest of the galaxy in reality… and… she wasn’t ready for that yet. Something told her that once they returned to the real world, their perfect little bubble would pop, and they would just go back to how everything was before they landed here.

Grogu grunted and stretched his tiny hand toward her broken hand. She shook her head and moved her hand to show the kid so he could understand. Her hand looked terrible already. Dark red and already showing signs of bruising where her fist struck Mando’s helmet.

“See,” Alaina whispered. “I’m sorry, Grogu. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

Grogu blinked at her gnarled hand and turned his enormous bug eyes to look at her. The kid reached for her broken hand with his three-fingered, clawed one. Alaina cringed in preparation for the pain when he would no doubt try to grab onto her hand, but the pain never came. Her eyes cracked open to peek at the kid, and she curiously watched as his hand hovered over her broken one, and his eyes were closed in concentration.

“What is he—” Alaina started to ask but had to stop when she felt warmth begin to radiate around her.

The feeling started with her fingertips and slowly moved over her fingers, knuckles, and wrist. The strange feeling continued, blanketing her in a strange warmth and peace. It was not something she’d ever experienced before. She couldn’t even come up with the words to describe it other than it felt like Grogu had just taken all of her pain away.

When Grogu’s eyes opened next, Alaina’s mouth dropped open in shock as she stared at her hand. The pain, the bruises, the gnarled fingers, and her broken wrist were just… gone. She flexed her fingers a few times to verify that her hand was no longer broken and still couldn’t believe what she saw.

“Did he?” Mando asked, looking between Grogu and her hand.

Alaina stared in awe at her hand, flexed the digits again for good measure, and turned her wrist. “I think he did,” she murmured.

Both adults turned their heads to stare at the strange, green alien toddler just in time to watch Grogu collapse beside her.

“Grogu!” she exclaimed in a panic and gathered the child in her arms to examine him further. She held him out in her hands so that Mando could also see him. “Is he okay?” Alaina asked, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

She watched the slight rise and fall of the child’s chest, feeling somewhat relieved to find him breathing, but she was still concerned that he was unconscious.

Mando reached to take Grogu from her, and she passed him off, placing a hand over the child’s chest to feel the even beat of his heart under her fingers.

“I think so,” Mando answered, cradling the unconscious child to his chest. “He must have depleted all of his energy healing your hand. He did something similar when he stopped a Mudhorn from killing me.”

Alaina frowned at his assessment, “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

That was not something Penn had ever tried to push on her. She could vaguely remember him giving her a dead plant to revive in the beginning, but nothing had ever come of it. It was almost inconceivable to think that the gift of healing was possible. There was so much unknown about this strange Force—Strange how it could vary between users.

“Mando?” Mando’s helmet looked up from the kid to her. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for what? She wasn’t sure, but she was just sorry for all of it.

Mando’s helmet closed the short distance between them, and he gently nudged her forehead as he whispered, “Me too.”

Din Djarin did not do things by halves.

Case in point: When he finally accepted the Creed and became a Mandalorian, he went all in and joined the Fighting Corps, becoming a Mandalorian Warrior.

He didn't do things by halves. Whatever he put his mind to, he went all in. That's just who he was...

Mando silently stalked through the obsidian forest as he attempted to hunt their next meal. There seemed to be an overpopulation of the silver rabbits that lived here, but he had found some larger tracks that he made note of to track down if they stayed here longer.

He said he was attempting to hunt because he was finding it increasingly difficult to take his thoughts off Alaina as he wandered through the black trees.

It felt as if something had changed between them since they arrived on the moon.

He rarely consumed alcohol, and when he did drink on that first night next to the fire, he’d let the warmth of the whiskey loosen his tongue, and he’d told Alaina that she was the sunlight. The slip of his tongue reminded him why he didn’t drink on a regular basis.

Neither said another word the rest of the night. He carried her all the way to the sleeping alcove on the Crest, and they laid there staring at one another while they silently processed the evening’s events while Grogu snored softly above them. She stared at him in that karking purple dress and, in the darkened alcove, reached across the short distance between them and rested a hand on his helmet where his cheek was, making his breath catch. 

Mando had told her she was the sunlight, but that wasn’t entirely truthful.

She wasn’t the sunlight. She was his sunlight.

But the words lodged in his throat, and then the moment passed them as Alaina’s eyes drooped in exhaustion. He didn’t know what to say, so he covered her hand until they both fell asleep.

Din Djarin was in trouble.

He was in trouble because this… whatever you wanted to call it—was happening between him and Alaina; it felt like they were rapidly approaching relationship territory. 

He’d never had a relationship before. In fact, he’d made it a point to avoid them. He’d had a handful of one-night stands and one rather unfortunate, short-lived fling with Xi’an when he had hit rock bottom, but he’d never had anything more than just sex.

What he had with Alaina felt suspiciously like a relationship, which terrified him to his core. He tried to tell himself he was imagining things. Still, the facts were staring him in the face—How he couldn’t help but smile every time he caught Alaina and Grogu meditating—How Alaina couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful the moon was, and all he could think was that she was the most beautiful part of it—How they had slept every night in the alcove together. He had to stop himself from gathering her up in his arms to hold her as close to her as he could to protect her—How it was becoming increasingly difficult to remember what his life was like before they entered it and even more difficult to imagine them not in it.

The morning after explaining what Tranyc meant was full of awkward shuffling, blushing, and avoiding each other’s glances. The change in their usual synergy made him uncomfortable. It only made it more evident that whatever was happening between them was shifting and changing, making him more anxious. So, eager to return to their usual banter, Mando grabbed the staff the villagers on Sorgan gifted Alaina and used it to knock her feet out from under her. Alaina’s green eyes shifted from soft to embarrassed to angry.

Toward the end of their first week here, his emotions came to a climax.

Literally.

He had set up targets in the forest trees that surrounded one side of them so that Alaina could work on target practice with his former mentor’s blaster that he’d given her. He’d let her warm up with a few shots while he took a moment to analyze her form. When he approached Alaina, lecturing her about proper form before touching her to make some mild corrections to her form, he couldn’t help but grow warm at their proximity, making him feel like a karking teenager seeing a pretty girl for the first time.

There he was, with Alaina’s chest to his back, as he stretched his arms around to hold her hands. He attempted to correct her hand position and alignment. It was then that he felt the first sign of trouble when he felt his cock twitch in his trousers when he felt Alaina relax further into him.

Mando struggled to control himself for the rest of their lesson. He was very aware of where his hips were in correlation to Alaina’s, and he found himself constantly repositioning and swiveling away from the blonde so he wouldn't make her uncomfortable with his body that was attempting to betray him. He’d done well for the most part, but when Alaina fired off a round that hit dead center in the middle of her target, his carefully constructed walls came tumbling down, and his hard-on grew to the point of no return.

Alaina was beautiful. There was no denying that he found her attractive. But, Maker, there was something about watching her in her tight clothes, firing his gun, and making the perfect shot that was just fucking sexy.

It was all downhill from there for Mando.

He left Alaina, telling her to spend thirty minutes working on her core strength while he returned to the Crest. Once safely locked away in the ship’s small fresher, away from the wandering eyes of his companions, he stripped himself of his armor and clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as he could tolerate it. It was there, under the guise of cleaning up, that Mando allowed himself to cave to his baser instincts.

He tightly gripped himself in his hand as green eyes and blonde hair flooded his mind.

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning his left forearm on the shower wall while his right hand began vigorously pumping his cock.

“I’ve never… been… intimate with someone else before… you.”

Mando bit down on his bottom lip at the memory. How the firelight flickered in her green eyes, the pink blush on her cheeks, a glimmer of her pillowy soft cleavage peeked over that karking purple dress. His hand tightened painfully over his cock, and he grunted at the memory.

She’d chosen him. She picked him to be her first, and he’d treated her like a fucking animal.

His breaths turned shallow as he thought back to that night on Sorgan. He could remember that night crystal clear. Alaina teased him with her flexibility. He remembered how she looked on her hands and knees while he wildly bucked into her soft, tight heat. He lost himself in that moment. He lost himself inside of that tight perfect fucking cunt, and he knew he needed to mark her. He needed to paint her soft, creamy skin with his seed as if that would send some kind of message to anyone else who would see her like that in the future.

“Alaina,” he groaned softly in the shower, and his hips started eagerly rocking into his hand as he felt the familiar coil in his abdomen begin to make itself known. Mando grunted as he fucked his hand, wishing he was fucking the tight heat of someone else.

Oh, if he were to have her again, he would do it all differently. If he could have her again, knowing that their one night together on Sorgan had been her first time… He’d treat her like a fucking queen. He’d show her how a man was supposed to treat her.

He’d taste every millimeter of her creamy skin. He groaned through a particularly delicious image of him on his knees between her legs. She would be wearing that fucking purple dress that would hide his head under the fabric of her dress as he worshipped her sweet cunt with his tongue.

“Fuuuucccckkkkk,” he growled lowly, panting as his hips stilled and his hand worked over his cock tirelessly at just the thought of the taste of her. “Yes.” Yes, he’d worship her with his tongue until she’d scream and wrap her legs around his head while she came into his mouth.

That was the last bit of imagery his body needed, and his left fist pounded the wall as his right pounded his cock as it exploded with thick ropes of his cum, painting the shower wall in front of him. He slowed his strokes as he came down, biting his bottom lip as the last of his spend left him. Mando fell into the shower wall, leaning against the cold tile while he tried to catch his breath.

Din Djarin was most definitely in trouble.

Mando let out an irritated growl as he tracked a set of rabbit prints when he felt his cock stir again at just the thought of having her again.

It was like a dam had broken after that, and for the next week, the only way he could get himself under control was by jerking himself off in the shower after every single one of their lessons.

Well, he paused, every lesson except for yesterday’s.

The afternoon had not gone to plan. At all. 

Things had been going so well between them that it didn't even cross his mind that pinning her without warning would trigger a PTSD response. He wasn’t thinking. They had worked on holds a couple of times, but after Alaina had shamelessly flirted with him—asking him to kiss her… His plan was to pin her and return her flirting, just so he could see her blush.

He hadn’t expected what had come next. He hadn’t expected to see Alaina’s emerald eyes shift and go somewhere else entirely. Then, when she started screaming, he realized too late that she must be having a flashback about that worthless carcass. Mando had tried to calm her down, but his touch seemed only to make her screams worse, so he lay there with his hands held up in surrender and repeated her name over and over, hoping she would fight her way out of her nightmare, which she eventually did.

Unfortunately for Alaina, she didn’t snap out of it until after she’d punched him.

In his helmet.

The petite woman packed a wallop that made his head ring. However, her punch held no match for his beskar helmet, and Alaina’s hand and wrist shattered on impact.

The rest of the day was a blur. Both of them were shocked that the womp rat healed her hand, and then that shock turned to fear once the kid collapsed. The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns watching over the kid. Alaina fussed over the child, and her sole focus was dedicated to the sleeping toddler. Neither of them said much unless it was about the kid. Mando wasn’t surprised that the kid started coming around when he started cooking dinner over the fire. Apparently, the bottomless pit that was the kid’s stomach was enough to rouse him from unconsciousness.

Alaina remained quiet and lost in herself for the rest of the day and into this morning. He tried to give her space, but he grew concerned when she passed him the kid and excused herself back to the Crest without dinner. When he tried to stop her, she mumbled something about a headache and walked back to the Crest without looking back, leaving him alone with the kid in front of the crackling fire.

He tried not to follow her straight back to make sure she was okay. Instead, he and the kid ate their dinner in silence. After the third time Mando looked behind them to see if Alaina would return, the kid took pity on him and lifted his hands for Mando to pick him up. Relieved by an excuse to go to the ship, he carried the child to his hammock in the alcove, where they slept, and peeked his helmet inside to check on Alaina.

She was curled in on herself with her face pressed into the wall, and despite her partially obstructed face, he could still see tears leaking out of her eyes.

After Mando dismantled his armor and toed his boots off, he joined her and crumbled to his instincts. He gathered Alaina up in his arms and held her against his chest. At some point in the night, Grogu jumped out of his hammock and crawled over the two of them to settle between them, and it was then that a new thought came to him while he drifted to sleep.

Was this what it was like to have a family? He couldn't remember what it was like to have one before he became a Mandalorian. He could vaguely remember crawling into his parents' bed when he was a young child after having a nightmare... And with Alaina and Grogu wrapped protectively in his arms, Mando realized that was the closest he'd come to having that feeling again.

Mando shook his head as he picked up the two silver-furred rabbits to carry back to the Crest. He was in trouble. Deep trouble.

The three of them were quiet this morning when they woke up. Alaina was distant and begged off training for today. The kid just looked between the two of them with his wide eyes. Mando took the kid up top to check for messages in the cockpit to give Alaina some time to herself. After a few minutes, he caught the kid’s big, sad eyes, watching for Alaina to come and join them. When it was clear that Alaina wouldn't be joining them, Mando told him that none of this was his fault. The Crest’s sensors chirped shortly after that, and he frowned at the readout when he saw a line of storms would likely arrive in the late afternoon or early evening. He decided to get the hunting out of the way early. When he returned to the hold, Alaina was scrubbing the hold’s floor where she’d been assaulted. Where she managed to find the cleaning supplies, he had no idea, but she assured him that she was fine and that she and Grogu could work on tidying up the hold while he was out.

Mando continued to drown in his confusing thoughts while he trekked back through the forest with black trees to the Crest. He was so lost in his thoughts that when he cleared the treeline, he almost missed it. He paused at the unfamiliar sound, trying to place what it was to determine what trouble they were in now, but he relaxed when he realized what he was hearing.

Music.

He continued to walk back to the ship, but his pace slowed when he saw that most of their belongings, including several crates that had been in the hold, had been pushed outside. He kept walking toward the ship to see what his companions had done while he was out but kept his presence silent to catch them in the action. 

The sound of the music gradually increased the closer he got to the Crest. It was soft and instrumental, with stringed instruments playing an unfamiliar song. 

He paused when he reached the crates and instantly smiled at the sight before him. 

The kid was sitting on the floor at the top of the ramp, staring intently at Alaina, who was dancing. She’d found her old slippers and was wearing the purple dress again. The dress's light fabric floated around her as she danced on her toes.

Not wanting to interrupt, Mando watched her performance in silence. There wasn’t much room for her to move, but that didn’t seem to deter Alaina. She was natural. Graceful. Here he was, trying to mold her into a weapon when Alaina was the opposite of that. She was ethereal and bright, like the sunlight.

At the end of her performance, Grogu cheered and attempted to clap his tiny hands excitedly. Alaina smiled at the kid and gave him a little bow. Mando joined the kid’s applause, giving her a little whistle while he was at it, which gave away his spot where he’d been lurking behind the crates. Alaina’s head shot up, and her eyes widened in embarrassment, obviously surprised to be caught in the act.

“You have a radio!” Alaina told him once she recovered from her initial shock at seeing him. She moved to show him the small box that was playing music before she turned it off. “Grogu and I got a little carried away cleaning the hold while you were out hunting, and we found it behind one of the crates.”

“How were you planning on pushing the crates back up the ramp?” he asked, looking at the two of the heaviest crates, wondering how long it took her to push them out of the ship in the first place.

“Did you miss the part where I said you had a radio?” Alaina frowned, waving the little black radio in her hand. “We can listen to music!”

Mando looked at her, then to the crates, and then back to her.

Alaina rolled her eyes. “Oh, I was just going to have you push them back in,” she brushed him off. “Radio!”

He shook his head at her excitement over the tiny radio but couldn’t shake the smile off his face. He’d honestly forgotten he even had one, and if listening to music would make her happy, it would be a small price. Mando made his way around the crates to head inside but was stopped when Alaina frowned at him and jogged to the ramp, where she threw her hands up to his chest to stop him from entering his ship.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Mando cocked his helmet at her question. “Inside,” he stated, holding up the game he had caught earlier.

“Dead things belong outside of the ship,” Alaina pointed to the rabbits, “and you’re not coming in here and dirtying up the floor I spent all morning scrubbing,” she finished, pointing to his muddy boots.

“I’m not?”

Alaina crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. He looked down at the woman, who was an entire foot shorter than him, staring him down with a severe look in her eyes. He dropped his helmet to the kid, who was looking between the two of them with a smile on his face.

“You think you’re going to stop me from entering my ship?” he asked lowly, taking an intimidating step closer to her. The slightest flicker of uncertainty flashed in her eyes before she tried to hide it, but it was too late; he’d already seen the falter. "You know I would never intentionally hurt you, right?"

Alaina shrugged, "I know," she nodded, giving him a soft smile. "But that doesn't mean you get to traipse inside with dead things and ruin all my hard work," she teased, giving him a taste of the easy teasing he'd become familiar with.

"And just what do you suggest I do?” he asked lowly.

Alaina recovered with a smirk and shrugged, “You could just take your boots off to walk the ten steps it takes to get the fresher.” Her words had a hint of a tease in them, making Mando smile. “Or just go jump in the lake and clean yourself off like an animal. I don’t care, but you’re not tracking mud all over the clean floors.”

An idea began to form in his mind—a way for him to continue to make her smile like this… He looked down at the kid, and if Mando didn’t know any better, the toothy grin the little womp rat was giving him would have made him think the kid knew exactly what Mando was about to do. 

“Fine,” Mando acquiesced, placing the rabbits he’d got on one of the crates Alaina had pushed outside the ship. When he turned back around, Alaina gave him a smug smile from the ramp of the Crest.

“See, it’s not hard to just take your boots off,” she told him smugly.

Mando stalked toward her, taking purposely large, slow steps. Alaina’s smug smile disappeared when her forehead scrunched as she studied his measured steps.

“What are you doing?” she asked, giving him a cautious look.

“Taking your advice,” he replied.

Alaina took a tentative step back, sensing he wasn’t being truthful with her. That’s when he pounced for her. He lunged, snatching Alaina by the waist and hoisting her light frame over one of his shoulders.

“Mando!” she shrieked, trying to thrash herself loose from his hold, but he held tight. “What are you doing?!”

“Going to jump into the lake to clean myself like an animal,” he told her simply. Alaina’s body stilled in realization, and his smile broadened. The kid's laughter shrieked around them, and Mando looked down to see him clapping again. “What do you think, kid? Don’t you think Alaina deserves a refreshing swim after all that work scrubbing the floors?”

“Don’t you dare, Mandalorian! Put me down!” Alaina shrieked again, renewing her attempts to squirm out of his hold.

Mando laughed and took off running for the lake.

“Mando!” Alaina yelled, beating the beskar armor covering his back with her fists. “Mando, I swear to the Maker, if you don’t put me down, I—I’ll—”

He slowed to a stop as he neared the lake. The path to the left led to the black pebbled beach, while the one to the right led to one of the large black slate rocks standing a solid three meters over the green waters.

“You’ll what?” he asked, tugging on her to pull her off his shoulder. Instead of placing her on the ground, though, he just shifted her body so that he was cradling her against his chest so that he could look at her face.

Alaina huffed when she was prevented from being placed on the ground and shook her head angrily. “Put me down, you stubborn man!”

“Or what?” Mando cocked his head and took off for the lake again. Alaina’s head swiveled to look at the lake again, and when he turned down the path to the right instead of the one to the left that would have taken them to the pebbled shore, her head snapped back to look at him with wide eyes.

“Mando, don’t you dare! I’m sorry! It’s your ship! You can walk through it with muddy boots to your heart's content!” Mando laughed at her pleas, and Alaina smacked his chest. “This isn’t funny! I just washed my hair! The water is going to be cold!” her excuses continued to tumble out of her mouth as his feet carried them up the steps to the top of the large platform rock.

Once he reached the top, he paused to take a moment. The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the lake's calm waters in various shades of green. He looked down just as Alaina looked back at him after looking at the lake under them. The sun bounced off her bright hair, and her green eyes, full of irritation, were a bright green that looked like the waters of the lake at the shallow end by the shore. She reminded him of the sun. Bright and illuminating.

“Don’t you dare, Mando,” she threatened again. “Besides, you’ll rust if you jump in with all your armor on.”

Mando smirked and cocked his helmet at her, and shook his head. He pulled her up higher on his chest to allow his hands access to untuck his cloak from his armor and pull it until it fell in a heap behind him.

“Sorry, Tranyc. It will take more than a dip in the lake to make me rust.”

Alaina’s eyes went wide, and he took off before she could open her mouth to argue again. 

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Mando!” she screamed and buried her face into his neck just as he shoved off the edge of the rock.

He tightened his grip on her as his boots hit the water, refusing to let her go as the lake came rushing around them. Mando started kicking once the green waters finally slowed to take them back to the surface.

Alaina sputtered once they broke the surface, pulling one of her hands away from his neck to wipe her soaking wet hair away from her face.

“I can’t believe that you did that!” she yelled and slapped his armor, but the smile threatening to overtake her face belayed some of the vitriol she was going for.

Mando held her, doing his best to tread water with his boots on, and dunked her back under the water.

“You ass!” she laughed when he brought her back up. Mando laughed along with her, his cheeks starting to ache a bit from smiling so much. “You’re an ass!” Alaina yelled again and used both of her hands to shove his shoulders, pushing him down under the water.

Mando let her go but waved his hands to push him deeper into the water, leaving Alaina to float alone.

“Mando?” he could barely make out Alaina’s muffled words from his position in the water, lurking under her. “Mando, this isn’t funny!”

He stretched an arm up, wrapping one of his gloved hands around her ankle.

“Mando!” Alaina screamed just before he tugged her under the water.

He didn’t pull her too far under and let her ankle go after, and the two of them swam back to the surface.

“I can’t believe you did that! What has gotten into you?” Alaina asked once their heads were above the surface. She was laughing, though. She was laughing with the biggest smile he’d seen from her since… well, ever. Her bright green eyes matched the waters she was treading and were filled with amusement. “You’re insane,” she laughed at him, futilely trying to wipe her hair off her face.

The light fabric of her dress floated around her, slowing her movement as she tried to swim back to the shore.

Mando let himself slip back under the surface of the water.

“Mando… Not again—” She tried to get out, but she was cut off by him dragging her back under the surface of the water, pulling her in the opposite direction of the shore.

He laughed as he swam back up, but Alaina didn’t follow him back up. Mando looked around to see if she had surfaced somewhere else, but she was nowhere to be found. 

“Not funny, Alaina!” he called across the lake, but there was no response.

Another moment later, Alaina’s dress floated back up to the surface, but dread filled him when he realized that was all that had floated back up.

“Alaina!” he yelled, ready to dive back under when something snuck behind him and forced him under the water.

“That’s what you get!” Alaina said, poking her tongue out at him when he scrambled back up and relaxed when he saw her treading water. “Ass.”

Mando turned to look at the dress floating behind him and then back at Alaina, who had just finished removing her dancing slippers and threw them one at a time to one of the lower rocks nearby. Alaina shrugged, “It was only going to slow me down.”

“Slow you down?”

Alaina nodded to the pebbled shore a short distance away. Grogu had just managed to breach the tall lavender fields, and his happy squeals echoed over the waters to them.

“Yeah, the last one to the shore has to cook dinner tonight,” Alaina informed him. Then, in a surprisingly quick move, Alaina shoved him back under the water before taking off toward the shore.

Oh, it was going to be like that? Mando smiled as he took off after her.

Mando was surprised to find that Alaina was a very adept swimmer. Without her dress and slippers, she wore only her skivvies and was pretty quick in the water. He picked up his pace, ignoring the added weight of his armor that tried to drag him back. Alaina probably would have beaten him had she not paused to look behind her, but Mando pushed himself faster, starting to close the gap between them.

Alaina slowed again as she kept trying to find footing in the shallow water, hoping to scrape her feet on the ground to try and run. Each stop cost her precious seconds. Her third attempt at finding her footing succeeded, and she started wading to the shore. However, walking was slow, whereas swimming the rest of the way in would have been faster. Mando swam until his hands brushed against the shallow bottom of the lake and pulled himself up to sprint after her.

“No!” Alaina squealed when she realized he was on her heels. “I beat you! I made it to the shore!” she laughed. Her laughter only intensified when he caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist again, hoisting her out of the water. “Mando!”

“Nice try, but it doesn't count as the shore when you’re still waist-deep in water.” He brought an arm under her legs and spun three hundred and sixty degrees until he weakly launched Alaina a few meager meters away from him.

“Cheater!” Alaina yelled back at him when she breached the surface.

Squeals of delight made him turn back to look at the kid standing just out of the reach of the lake waters threatening to lap at his feet. The kid seemed to be taking a particular delight in the adults’ antics. “What are you laughing at, womp rat?” he teased, stalking out of the lake to head toward Grogu.

“Run, Grogu!” Alaina mock yelled from her spot, still floating in the lake behind him. “Save yourself!”

The kid’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open when he realized Mando was heading toward him. Grogu’s legs were short, and it took no effort for Mando to nab him from the ground. Grogu sputtered and squirmed, trying to get out of Mando’s grasp, but he refused to let him go.

Once Mando waded until he was waist-deep in the lake again, he placed his hands under the kid’s armpits and slowly lowered him until his feet scrapped across the water's surface. Grogu cried, unhappy at the feeling of the water touching his toes.

“Oh, little one, it’s okay,” Alaina soothed, gracefully floating over to them. She raised her hands toward Grogu and tickled his belly until the kid let out a sniffled laugh. “Swimming is fun,” she told him, giving him a little splash. “Mando and I can teach you how.”

They spent the next two hours getting Grogu used to the water, teaching him to blow bubbles and float on his back. Once the kid’s initial fears were gone, he was having a blast.

Mando saw the clouds start to gather and swam to the shore. He grabbed Alaina’s dress, which had washed ashore, and her shoes, which she had tossed at the rock. Alaina had Grogu in her arms in the shallow end, bobbing the kid under the water; his laughter rang across the lake each time he breached the surface. Mando climbed to the top of the rock to grab the cloak he had left behind. He was soaking wet, and his armor would need a polishing tonight, but the afternoon had been worth it. To see that haunted look finally leave Alaina’s eyes. He carried the garments back to the shore, spread her wet dress over the warm pebbles to dry, and left her shoes next to it.

“We should head back soon,” he called out from the shore. Alaina was floating on her back in the water, and the kid was lying on his back on her bare stomach. Both of their heads turned to stare at him. “I don’t think you want to be stuck in the lake when the storm hits.” The two shared a look before turning back to look at him and blow him raspberries. “Very mature,” he grumbled.

Alaina grabbed Grogu with one arm and used her other to swim back to shore. He smirked at the kid who was smacking the top of the water as they swam.

The kid cried as Alaina carried him out of the water. “It’s okay, Grogu. The lake will still be here tomorrow.” The kid cried and pointed back at the rock Mando had jumped off with Alaina. “Oh no, little one,” Alaina shook her. “Maybe you can talk Mando into that, but I’m not doing that again.”

The kid turned and gave Mando the sad eyes. The Mandalorian looked back at the dark clouds gathering in the distance and then at the large puppy dog eyes blinking at him.

“One time,” Mando told him, heavily emphasizing the word one. Grogu smiled, and Alaina offered the kid for him to take, but Mando cocked his helmet at her.

“Oh no,” Alaina shook her head. “I paid my dues. The kid wants to go.”

Instead of taking the kid, he held out his hand for her to take. This time, the kid turned his pout to Alaina.

“Fine,” she sighed, taking the Mandalorian’s hand as he walked them toward rock.

The three stood at the precipice of the rock and looked down at the water below them. 

“You sure about this?” Alaina asked the kid, still in her arms.

Grogu answered her with a wide, toothy grin that made Alaina sigh in defeat and pass the kid to him. She then tucked herself under one of Mando's arms and wrapped one arm around his back, clutching his waist tightly. Mando wrapped one arm around her and tucked the kid into his chest with the other. Alaina glared at him before wrapping her free arm around his chest, holding Grogu in place. 

"Here we go, kid," he said as his only warning before he jumped off the platform. The kid's squeals of delight were the last thing he heard as they hit the water.

His helmet did a decent job of keeping the water out, allowing him to see underwater. Alaina’s blonde hair reflected green under the water, and she and Grogu had huge smiles on their faces. Huge smiles that mirrored his own. 

He is happy. He can’t remember a time when he was this happy.

The thought comes to him once the three of them are back on the shore, trying to air dry on the warmed pebble shore. Alaina grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around her and the kid, covering her body. 

He’s drowning in seas of green.

He looked to the lake and then back to Alaina. She seemed to catch him and stared at him curiously. “What?”

She'd said those words to him when their paths crossed again on Nevarro. The Client had asked her to read him, and he watched her eyes go vacant and shift as she spoke, "He's drowning in seas of green." He hadn’t understood what she had said at first. And then, when she had explained that she could see the future in a very confusing way, he had decided her words were an omen of some kind. Now though…

Now he was staring at Alaina with her emerald green eyes and Grogu with his green skin while the three sat next to the most gorgeous green lake he’d ever seen. A day spent swimming in… seas of green. 

“Nothing,” he whispered back, shaking his head. Alaina gave him a skeptical look like she didn’t quite believe him. “Come on,” he whispered, pulling her up as he stood. Alaina walked barefoot back to the ship, with Grogu tucked to her chest under the cloak and Mando behind her carrying her things.

Alaina had been right… Mando was most definitely drowning in seas of green.

They walked side by side back to the Crest, and once they entered the lavender plains, he felt Alaina's hand brush his. In the next blink, he felt Alaina hesitantly wind her fingers in his.

He was drowning in seas of green. And he shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was okay with it.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he abruptly stopped in the middle of the lavender grass as his mind took him back to their last afternoon on Sorgan.

“You can’t save the sunshine,” Alaina told him, laughing at him while she continued her vision. He could still picture how Alaina's perverse smile dropped, and the blank, vacant look returned as her omen continued. “Vermilion will.”

"What's wrong?" Alaina questioned him, squeezing his hand.

If Alaina had, in fact, seen him swimming or drowning in the waters of the green lake… Then what did that mean for her other prophecy?

Mando looked down at his two companions, staring back at him with nervous faces, and he returned Alaina's grip with his hand, clutching hers tightly in his. With a start, he realized that if Alaina had somehow seen something untoward happen to her, he would have time to plan to avoid whatever she saw happen. He wouldn't take any more of her manic ramblings for granted in the future if it could help him piece together a way to save her. To save the sunshine.

His sunlight.

"Nothing," he finally murmured, tugging on her hand to pull her back to the Crest just as dark clouds encroached over the treeline.

He gently squeezed Alaina's hand, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles, earning him a blush and a soft smile from the woman.

Din Djarin did not do anything by halves.

He would do whatever it took to protect his family.

To protect his clan.

Author's Note #2: Eeek! When I tell you I would come back and read some of these chapters over again—This is the chapter I would read when I needed a pick me up. When I began writing this story, it was written in a hodgepodge of ideas that spanned various points throughout the timeline of ‘Heaven in Hiding.’ The end of this chapter with them at the lake was one of the first things I wrote, and I’m so happy we finally made it here! I hope y’all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, your comments and kudos make my day. PS: False alarm about the smut monster. After a couple of hours of looking for him, I found him locked safely away back in his kennel. That was a close call. Hopefully, the little rascal hasn’t figured out how to get past the locks…

Tag List: @racheldon @zenrobbins0021 @locked-ness

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Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 16: The Cord That Binds

[needlesandnilbogs]

⭐ for the ask game! Gimme some director's commentary on your favorite of your fics!

You get mini-rant about superhero au because it's on my mind again and I'm taking a metaphorical axe to the long term plans for it right now (and lowkey wishing I'd thought about it more before I posted it last year) (read more bc I'm ramble-y tonight lol)

I should have cut the entire first bit of this and rewritten the second bit. third arc in that story is great and the prologue is great but the first and second arcs need to be better

For once, I'm not thinking about this in terms of lore changes --- I've had. Uh. A lot of the thoughts pretty clearly in mind since near the beginning (the backstory of hero mensah and her villain partners, the secret identity of actually-evil-villain Corporate, all the other backstories, exact power ideas and limitations) and don't need to edit that much for consistency --- but about the actual execution, especially the way they all handle balancing superheroics and secret identities.

I like the prologue, except for I think that Mensah probably would have had slightly more charitable words for Tano from the start (if not for Amena). Prologue can stay.

However. If I hadn't published it already (and I'm honestly just going to leave it rn bc I don't mind it, but I can still feel annoyed about it not being what I actually want), I would cut the first proper arc entirely, not because I'm not proud of it, but because it kind of duplicates the second arc, and not in a good way; it's a disconnected bunch of them interacting as secret identities and being Weird about it, and it leads into the next arc pretty much exactly. If I were rewriting this I'd probably keep it as the aftermath of a Corporate attack, but cut most of it down to a short description of the heroes working together, then the after-battle bits (adding a moment with the heroes deciding they're at the point they really need to get Corporate's identity for an arrest warrant, maybe making it actually clear that Gurathin is Pin-Lee's cousin and not some random person hanging around, and for sure clarifying something about what's going on with ratthi and Bharadwaj), then put the parts where they're investigating each other as part of the next arc.

The second arc also needs a bunch of things changed, but it's actually half-decent as a single storyline, if you actually start halfway through the previous arc. However:

I like thinking about how Mensah's council staff would respond to her being kidnapped approximately every other week and I should have said more about that (she plans about two days a month with nothing serious scheduled, so she can reschedule meetings she misses onto those days if needed; the council staff has a standing script for if someone needs her while she's busy being kidnapped; there's an actual emergency line that one of the most trusted staffers has that can get to her comm so she can respond if she's busy being kidnapped but they seriously need her)

I should have made it clearer that Mensah was absolutely complicit in the kidnapping bit and that she wasn't actually mad at Tano or Farai, just annoyed not to be told in advance (consensual kidnapping), but Ratthi was not consensually kidnapped, he was treated well but he was, also, actually literally kidnapped by supervillains and would probably have been freaking out more.

Also, a thing I'd do over would be to start with Mensah and her partners idly chatting about this plan over dinner a few days earlier, as part of the bit where everyone's investigating everyone else, so Mensah knows what's going on and why, just not when, exactly, her partners plan on pulling this one off.

Also also, Mensah probably needs to actually have a talk with her partners on screen about identities after everything, but other than that I don't actually mind the part where they reveal themselves to each other, and honestly I think it's okay that she doesn't tell anyone about her partners until later (might put it such that that reveal happens directly after that arc, but I like the moment where mensah tells pin-lee later and I'd move that to fit, and I don't mind mensah telling overse bc Overse notices the distress and wants to offer comfort). I think they'd need to talk and she'd need their permission to tell anyone (outside the team psychic lol) but they all should find out sooner than they actually do (in what I've actually written they will know by the next fic in the series for sure tho)

Anyways the third arc in there is great and I like it a lot. actual mystery with actual clues in there and arada doing mad science. 10/10 no notes.

[wrienne]

State of the writing 2023!

Hi, everyone!

This is my post on the status of my writing, scheduling of posts and writing, which projects I've got ongoing, and what I intend to do in the nearest future and beyond. This can all be sorted into the following topics:

Posting Schedule

Current Projects and Workflow

My Future Plans (Writing Tips? Patreon? The Essence Thief Series?)

This will be a long-ass post, so I'll keep the most important thing, which is about the Posting Schedule, just up top.

1. Posting Schedule

Three Fridays in a row, I'll upload a chapter of my work, be it AHPH, DL, or my personal work. Then there will be a week without posting so that I can catch up on other stuff or take a break. This will be on a rotation.

AHPH: will be posted by the first Friday of the rotation until I finish DL, which is when I will dedicate both update slots for AHPH. AHPH has a very long story which I do not plan on finishing any soon. Who is your favorite hybrid so far?

DL: will be posted by the second Friday of the rotation. DL is actually reaching its end relatively soon, meaning a majority of the story has been posted already. Who is your favorite suspect?

Original work: will be posted by the third Friday of the rotation. I am either going to post here or on Wattpad. I've got so many projects I want to write about that I simply don't have time, or worse, procrastinate on all. I want to publish a book before the end of this year, however.

You can read more in detail about each project (and others in the works) in the next section.

To visualize the schedule: Week 1: AHPH Week 2: DL (until i finish it, then it will be AHPH) Week 3: Original work Week 4: Buffer

Now, this is not to say that there may be exceptions. Life happens, and I may miss a deadline. Or life also happens, and I post more than once. But I wanted to have some structure to it all so I don't leave anybody wondering if I am gone again or why I am not posting on the specific story.

For more clarity, I will configure some sort of progress bar/status on my page so that you can peek in at any time to see the progress of my work. I will also add dates for the expected updates!

2. Current Projects and Workflow

Currently, I can divide my work into two sections. Ao3 and my original work. As such, I will discuss them separately.

On Ao3, I have no plans currently of adding another story other than DL and AHPH. While I have considered and planned out a sequel for DL, I don't know if I can handle it currently. My research for DL, while extremely interesting, is also very morbid. And that sort of thing tears at your mind. Though, this is not to say never. I know a lot of you really enjoy AHPH, but surprisingly, most people say they love DL the most. So it might be subject to change.

AHPH has a different sort of setup than any of my other writing pieces. I'd consider it more like a TV series, with plenty of episodes you can look forward to and with no end quite in sight as of yet. I do have an idea for a larger, overarching story plot, but that won't be relevant for quite a while, and won't be essential to anyone just reading it for the easy fun.

Regarding my personal work, I have an insane amount of stuff I want to write. But to keep things relatively brief, I can disclose three series I plan for the future. I could give more of an in-depth explanation of these in another post if anybody's interested.

A Beauty and the Beast fantasy retelling with the roles reversed. It will be a trilogy, and it is currently the story I've gotten the farthest on. There will be fae, demons, and gods and spirits, but also geopolitical conflicts and court intrigue.

A historical/fantasy series set in the 14th century. I call this a "continental fantasy", because it has to do with discovering a new wild continent away from the known world. Will contain witches, telekinetic mages, and an ancient advanced civilization of godlike beings that disappeared mysteriously in the past. This is also something I started a year ago, and will be a many-part series.

A high fantasy series with an urban fantasy concept (?) is how I'd explain it. It's set in a multiverse where all the worlds are connected through ley lines, with all of them centering in this one city. It is possibly my most ambitious work, containing anything from the Seelie and Unseelie Court, the Wild Hunt, to vampires, elves and monsters. But it's also been my most giving as I've gone through worldbuilding and storyboarding with ease. It will also be a multi-part series, and I've already got a sequel series in the works.

I am currently in the process of trying my best not to write on all three and just stick to one story. Let me know if any of these stand out to you!

3. My Future Plans (Writing Tips? Patreon? The Essence Thief Series?)

So, what are my future plans?

I want to keep on posting on Ao3 and writing my own thing. I will obviously not be able to publish my Ao3 work, but since I dream of becoming an author, I will be spending the majority of my time and energy on that (and obviously my studies and mental and physical health), which I hope is understandable.

In order to branch out more as an author, I have also been considering getting out there on other media platforms! But this is something I have to get back to you with.

I wonder if there's anyone interested in learning more tips and tricks on how to write. I used to do a segment called Writing (Writer's?) Wednesdays, where I'd make a post on a storytelling aspect and describe how to plot a chapter, make characters, figure out ideas, how to world-build, etc. If that's something that you'd be interested in, let me know!

Another topic I have been considering is Patreon or Ko-fi. For a small fee, I'd offer the following:

The Essence Thief in eBook format

Exclusive posts of the AHPH crew (such as camping trips, birthdays, requests, and gratuitous NSFW) These would be canon but otherwise hard to include in the current flow I've got for AHPH.

Take writing requests of X amount of words for people

Early access view of all my writing (personal, Ao3)

Any other book I publish will also be available here weeks before the official release

Personal help and assistance with your writing

And more!

Obviously, times are incredibly rough for all of us, so this is just a suggestion! The main goal of the Patreon would be so I could write more.

Regarding The Essence Thief series, I am currently putting it on hiatus. It was not until a few days ago that I finally managed to free myself from the last of the negative influences that have been haunting me for many years. I can honestly say, that it's not until now, after 25 years of living, that I've felt somewhat liberated. Somewhat free. And right now, TEP reminds me too much of all the horror that's still lingering there at the periphery of my mind. I won't cancel TEP entirely, as I still feel like there will be a time when I can return to it, but as of now and in the nearest future, it is not part of my writing plan.

As always, thank you for reading!

[rainswhenyourehere]

⋆ dying is easy, living is harder ⋆

characters ☆ alexander hamilton, elizabeth schuyler, angelica hamilton, alexander hamilton jr. pairings ☆ none

tws ☆ minor character death, suicidal thoughts

christmas gift 4 y'all !! a month after philip's death, alexander tries to have a normal christmas. nothing goes according to plan. scheduled post; i'm on a trip so i'll add + post the ao3 work once i get back

fic under cut

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Hushed noises. Alexander lifted his head, his gaze shifting from his documents to the door of his office, his ears perking up.

“Lexi, go call the others. It’s time for dinner,” Eliza’s tone was gentle. Alexander missed it. She barely spoke to him anymore, and even if she did, it was with a sharp edge. Alexander didn’t blame her.

Footsteps, most likely Lexi sprinting upstairs. Alexander sighed and stood up, setting his quill aside.

Eliza’s head turned as Alexander exited his office. The look in her eyes was cold, similar to her voice. “You are not having dinner with us.”

“What?” Alexander was taken aback by the words, confusion and surprise settling on his face as he stared at the other.

“I said, you are not staying for dinner. You can go dine somewhere else, but I’d like to spend Christmas with family, people I actually trust,” Eliza hissed, glaring at him. Slowly, Alexander nodded, swallowing as he felt a pang in his chest.

“Of course,” mumbling, he headed towards the front door, grabbing his coat on the way out. He could feel Eliza’s burning gaze fixed on him, but he didn’t turn.

After all, it wouldn’t change anything.

Alexander inhaled sharply as the cold winter air hit his face. At least the snowing had stopped, he remarked as he walked down the street, unsure about where to go.

Laughter echoed in the air, church bells ringing as he passed houses, light and warmth radiating from each window. Alexander sighed. It was at times like these that he wondered whether publishing the Pamphlet had really been a good idea — maybe he should’ve just let others assume what they wanted to, even if it would cost him his career and his reputation.

No. Alexander waved the thoughts off with a shake of his head. What was done was done — no matter how badly he wished, there was no erasing the past.

Alexander lifted his head and halted. His eyes darted around, his lips slightly parted as he studied the familiar building.

Fraunces Tavern.

Alexander stood there, frozen in place as multiple memories came flooding back. That night with Burr, Laf, Herc and John. Alexander still remembered the joy and confidence he had felt upon finding others with similar ideals as his. For the first time after stepping foot on this unfamiliar land he had felt as if he belonged here.

He also remembered the way his heart had ached for John as Washington had congratulated them in the same spot nearly seven years after. The way he had turned to his side, started a sentence before realizing that the other wasn’t there.

That he would never be there again.

His mind lingered on John, his lover’s face flashing in Alexander’s mind. That soft, fluffy hair, those freckles spilled across his body like stars that his eyes couldn’t hold. That calm, gentle voice, those kissable lips—

Alexander blinked, forcing himself to snap out of it. He stared at the Tavern, considering entering. He could just walk in, order some food and a drink, maybe a few more of the latter until the alcohol drowned out all of his thoughts.

However, his steps led him away, his breathing forming a cloud of mist in the air as he resumed his walk. He wasn’t hungry, and deep inside, he knew that this wasn’t a night he’d like to spend drunk.

✮ 

After half an hour of wandering, Alexander stopped again, shocked. How- why had his legs led him here? It wasn’t like anyone he knew was buried here—

Alexander sucked in a sharp breath which got caught in his throat. His chest felt incredibly tight as he advanced, the snow crunching under his feet. He passed grave after grave until—

“Heartless.”

“How could he be so cruel?”

“He didn’t even bat an eye — god.”

The whispers had circled him for the following week. No one had said it aloud, but they were all referring to one thing: “Alexander Hamilton didn’t shed a single tear at his son’s funeral.”

Alexander ran a hand across the top of the engraved stone. It was cold to the touch. A chuckle left him as he raked his hand through his hair, slumping down against the stone with a a sigh.

Oh, those idiots, he thought, closing his eyes. Don’t they realize I did my best to keep my composure only for them?

He had stood up straight, had greeted everyone, had kept his voice stable. You had to be quite close to him to have realized the way he had swayed, Eliza being the only thing keeping him upright as they had approached Philip’s grave. Alexander hadn’t cried. Everyone else had.

He sighed again, pulling his knees up to his chest. The cold numbed his fingers. Maybe his lack of tears was the reason Eliza didn’t even try to tolerate him anymore.

Alexander opened his eyes, gazing at the dark sky. It had stormed, the day of the funeral. For the first time since the hurricane, he hadn’t felt scared, even when thunder had boomed, reminding him of the British cannons that he used to steal.

A shiver tore through his body. Regret and sorrow carved a hole into his chest, his breathing shallow as he remembered how he had advised Philip to throw away his shot. That had turned out well, hadn’t it?

Alexander closed his eyes again as his mind grew foggy. For a moment, he considered just staying there for the night, fading away with the cold. After all, everyone who loved him had died — why not join the chain?

A gust of wind blew by. Alexander felt snowflakes land on his raised face. It had started snowing again, the slow falling holding the potentials of turning into a snowstorm.

He sighed. Not tonight.

With a groan, Alexander arose, releasing a breath he had been holding. Eliza and the children must’ve finished dinner by now, perhaps even had the time to enjoy some music. Ange’s piano skills had improved quite a lot.

However, Alexander’s train of thoughts paused as he remembered the state Ange had fallen into after her older brother had passed. The two were always close, and she had been affected the most out of the children, spending the days talking to herself in her room. Not unlike him, he remarked as he walked away.

Alexander looked back one last time, his eyes lingering on Philip’s name before he headed out, pulling the door of the graveyard closed behind him.

Wind ruffled his hair as he trudged along the street. A couple passed him, their conversation pausing as they glared at him.

“Honestly, he should just leave the neighbourhood,” he heard one of them mumble. Alexander hummed.

It would be quiet uptown.

[echojulietfoxtrot]

Dear Artists - Notes & Tips from a Would-Be Commissioner.

It feels like there has been a mini revival of Art Tumblr after Twitter burned itself down, which is amazing, but I've been skulking around looking for folks to commission lately, and I see some of the same gripes recurring a lot. I've posted this before as a reply to something before, but I think it might be worth its own post.

Here are some tips to help you as an artist help your clients to meet you half way!



So you want to take Commissions on Tumblr!

- Awesome! ... does your profile actually indicate that though? Does it clearly tell me at first glance that a) you're an artist and b) you're open to commissions right now? That might seem like a goofy question, but you would be absolutely amazed how many artists on here do not have any trace of that. (Several artists I've seen just today don't!)

- Is your askbox open for quick "Would you do..." enquiries? Have you checked it lately? Is there some way I can make a quick enquiry with you - and this is important- without leaving Tumblr? That extra layer of clicks makes a big difference.

- If your slate's full for now, do you have a wait list? Can I tell? How does somebody get on it? Can I find that info easily?

- Is there a standard package of info requirements and material you want from a client to consider/work with them? Even a template? Your client may be in a different timezone or work schedule to you, so teasing this stuff out one message at a time can take foreeevvverr - try to make it clear in advance what you need to know so everything is said/asked in as few chess moves as possible.

- This will be a theme.

- Please, please don't take it for granted that people will just 💫DM you for info💫 about anything you already know they'll have to ask - that info should be just about impossible for them to miss. By the time they're DM'ing you, they should pretty much just be clarifying something they've read or pitching the particulars of this specific transaction. Everything they have to ask is one more little obstacle to contacting you at all.

- Do you have lots of diverse and easily found examples of your work? Have you tagged your work consistently and properly? Have you told me what what that tag is? Have you distinguished between Commissions and Personal/commercial stuff? Your style is probably great, but I need to know if it's my vibe! Again, several artists I've seen today have not done this. I have no idea what kind of work you've done, and I can't find it even if I look!

- Have you made it clear what you're capable or interested in working in, subject wise? For example, I tend to look for artists I know can pull off f/f tv/movie fandom ship stuff, and female bodies and musculature, in relatively realistic proportions. Maybe you can do that! But if I can't see any indications of it, and all the stuff I find is m/m or OCs or D&D, I won't assume it, and I probably won't cold call to find out.

- If you do LGBTQ+, furry, fetish, mecha etc art - anything at all that anyone else might not do, for any reason - make sure to say so. Again, folks won't take it for granted, so try not to make it so they have to ask. Mostly, they won't.

- Also, make it clear if you work in zestier flavors or not, and indeed what specific kinds of zesty you will and won't do. (And on a personal level, if you do, try not to draw those boobs so high, Tumblr)

- Speaking of, if somebody approaches you with stuff you can't or won't do just out of preference, is there someone else you can steer them to? The favor might just come right back around.

- Let's talk money, baby. Where can I find your ballpark prices? Is it obvious? I don't need to know to the penny, but I do need to know if my budget and your pricing are at least in the same orbit. At least tell me how many digits to expect. Just saying "It depends!" is a psychological brick wall for a would-be client; I promise you that "contact me to discuss pricing" without any indications of floor or ceiling will cost you work.

- Also I strongly suggest a two-chunk payment structure, with some upfront and some on completion. I personally prefer to pay the whole lot upfront where possible, but at least for your first commission with someone, getting part upfront is safest for you, and "the rest on completion" is reassuring for them.

- Consider different tiers if you haven't already. A 60 buck quickie sketch is 60 bucks you didn't have yesterday, and they're not a huge commitment. You can potentially do a bunch of them in the time you're waiting for The Big One to come along, and if you agree to post it publicly, it's essentially an ad for you. And maybe I'll like it so much I'll ask you to go further with it, and stump up for a more developed version? (Though if that's an option, it should be clear to me too.)

- I strongly recommend having a look around at the all-in-one commission info sheets some folks put together, with pricing, payment, wills and won'ts, and FAQs and making one of your own, and then - and this is important - pinning it, or linking to it in your profile. It should smack folks in the face, they won't seek it out, and it should be like a used car ad - every fact or figure you can anticipate them wanting to know should be plain to see.

- And keep it, and your Tumblr, active and up to date. If your commission info sheet and your Tumblr hasn't been touched since 2012, I'll assume you're in space or dead. I will not check your Twitter or Patreon for signs of life.

- Reblog other artists, and actively engage and tag in fandoms/tags you have worked in and want to work in. Branch out into new subjects/fandoms/tags now and then just to experiment and broaden your footprint. Tumblr is a bunch of circles glued together, that's how you get out there. (Speaking for myself, I tend to find new artists through previous artists more often than via tags or Recommended feeds.)

- There is absolutely nothing wrong with reaching out to a high profile blog in a given fandom or genre sphere and asking for a shout out. They'll likely be more than happy to do it.

- Reblog yourself plenty, for the day and night crowd, weekends and weekdays etc. Gas yourself up a little, nobody minds. Add a few new comments about your process or something now and then, it's interesting. Try not to talk shit about your art, even just in jest - it's not good for you, and it's kind of a bummer to onlookers. If something wasn't perfect, think and talk about what you learned from it.

- And don't go doxxing yourself or anything, but maybe give some idea of when and how you work on your art - it's probably not a great idea to commit to an ironclad timescale, but if your posts give a sense of how and when you fit the work into your life, people can have some sense of what to expect and be a little more understanding than they might be otherwise.

- Blaze it. If you're sure you can tune out the whiney clowns, Blaze it. Yes, you'll absolutely get whinging edgelord nitwits in the comments, but you will also get seen by potentially interested folks who would never have stumbled over you otherwise, and they'll stick around when the other dummies are gone.



So you've been Commissioned!

- Keep in touch! Generally speaking, just staying in touch to say "Hey, this is still in the pipeline" now and then is plenty. Don't weird yourself out about it, don't psyche yourself out of getting in contact if it's been a while. Just message. It's cool! I don't mind waiting for the art itself, at all, but long periods of ghostly radio silence are disheartening. If you're art-blocked up the wazoo, it's nbd to say so. If you're taking a break to work on some personal stuff or casual no-pressure sketches, say so! Literally any contact at all is better than no contact. If nothing else, all you have to say is "Hey, just checking in. I have been making progress on your piece/I plan to get some work done on your piece today/this week/this month. Hope all is well!". Bam, done.

- Some would-be commissioner types like to have their shiny completed art piece revealed all in one go and kept all to themselves. Some (me) love to see WIP updates that they can reblog from you, so they have an extra chance to roll around in their fandoms and tags a little. On the other hand, some artists don't like showing their WIP stuff publically though. All of that's fine - but regardless, make sure you're both on the same page about it, and what format and what channel they'll get their piece in, from Day 1.

- Let the client know if you'd be up for working with them again afterwards, or if you'd like x and y conditions if they want to work with you again, or if you're all done and you never want to see these damn characters or this bloody setting again. As a client, you can feel a bit weird about hitting the same talented creative up five times in a row for the same two blorbos in a situation, so it's a good idea to intercept that if it's not an issue for you.



Remember - commissioning something has the potential to feel a little like a weird awkward Tinder convo for money. As an artist... well, you're already an artist, but it’s in your interest as somebody who eats and uses electricity to make it obvious that working with you will be easy and hassle free for all involved. What can you do to ensure that, and signal it? Make yourself approachable and easy to deal with, and do yourself justice.

All the love to Art Tumblr. I'll come knocking on some of your doors again next time I have spare cash and a hankering for some more angsty Dani and Grace McTerminatorDarkFate stuff.

[echojulietfoxtrot]

Artists, I'm totally down with all of this, but speaking as somebody who actively seeks out people to commission semi regularly, help us out to meet you half way!

Notes and Tips from a Client.

- Does your profile actually indicate you're an artist and that you're open to commissions? That might seem like a goofy question, but you would be absolutely amazed how many artists on here do not have any trace of that. (Several artists in these very notes don't!)

- If your slate's full rn, do you have a wait list? Can I tell? How does somebody get on it?

- Is your askbox open for enquiries? Have you checked it lately? Is there some way I can make a quick enquiry with you - and this is important- *without leaving Tumblr*? That extra layer of clicks makes a big difference.

- Is there a standard package of info requirements and material you want from a client to consider/work with them? Even a template? Your client may be in a different timezone or work schedule to you, so teasing this stuff out one message at a time can take foreeevvverr - try to make it clear in advance what you need to know so everything is said/asked in as few chess moves as possible.

- This will be a theme.

- Please, please don't expect people to just 💫DM you for info💫 about anything you already know they'll have to ask - that info should be just about impossible for them to miss. By the time they're DM'ing you, they should pretty much just be clarifying something they've read or pitching the particulars of this specific transaction. Everything they have to ask is one more little obstacle to contacting you at all.

- Do you have lots of diverse and easily found examples of your work? Have you tagged your work consistently and properly? Have you told me what what that tag is? Have you distinguished between Commissions and Personal/commercial stuff? Your style is probably great, but I need to know if it's my vibe! Again, several artists in these tags have not done this. I have no idea what kind of work you've done!

- Have you made it clear what you're capable or interested in working in, subject wise? For example, I look for artists I know can pull off f/f tv/movie fandom ship stuff, and female bodies and musculature, in relatively realistic proportions. Maybe you can do that! But if I can't see any indications of it, and all the stuff I find is m/m or OCs or D&D, I won't assume it and I probably won't cold call to find out.

- If you do LGBTQ+, furry, fetish, mecha etc - anything anyone else might not do, for any reason - make sure to say so. Again, try not to make people have to ask.

- Also, make it clear if you work in Spicy flavor or not, or what kinds of Spicy you will and won't. (And on a personal level, if you do, try not to draw those boobs so high, Tumblr)

- If somebody approaches you with stuff you can't or won't do just out of preference, is there someone else you can steer them to? The favor might just come right back around.

- Is there somewhere I can find your ballpark prices? I don't need to know to the penny, but I do need to know if my budget and your pricing are at least in the same orbit. At least tell me how many digits to expect. Just saying "It depends!" is a psychological brick wall for a would-be client; I promise you that "contact me to discuss pricing" without any indications of floor or ceiling will cost you work.

- Also I strongly suggest a two-chunk payment structure, with some upfront and some on completion. I personally prefer to pay the whole lot upfront where possible, but at least for your first commission with someone, getting part upfront is safest for you, and "the rest on completion" is reassuring for them.

- Consider different tiers if you haven't already. A 60 buck quickie sketch is 60 bucks you didn't have yesterday, and if you agree to post it, it's essentially an ad for you. But maybe I'll like it so much I'll ask you to go further with it, and stump up for a more developed version? If that's an option, it should be clear to me too.

- I strongly recommend having a look around at the all-in-one commission info sheets some folks put together, with pricing, payment, wills and won'ts, and FAQs and making one of your own, and then - and this is important - *pinning* it, or linking to it in your profile. It should smack folks in the face, they won't seek it out, and it should be like a used car ad, every fact or figure you can anticipate them wanting to know should be plain to see.

- And keep it, and your Tumblr, active and up to date. If your commission info sheet and your Tumblr hasn't been touched since 2012, I'll assume you're in space or dead. I will not check your Twitter or Patreon for signs of life.

- Reblog other artists, and actively engage and tag in fandoms/tags you have worked in and want to work in. Branch out into new subjects/fandoms/tags now and then just to experiment and broaden your footprint. Tumblr is a bunch of circles glued together, that's how you get out there. (And personally, I tend to find new artists through previous artists more often than via tags or Recommended feeds.)

- There is absolutely nothing wrong with reaching out to a high profile blog in a given sphere and asking for a shout out. They'll likely be more than happy to.

- Reblog yourself plenty, for the day and night crowd, weekends and weekdays etc. Gas yourself up a little, nobody minds. Add a few new comments about your process or something now and then, it's interesting. Try not to talk shit about your art, even just in jest - it's not good for you and it's kind of a bummer to onlookers. If something wasn't perfect, think and talk about what you learned from it.

- And don't go doxxing yourself or anything, but maybe give some idea of when and how you work on your art - it's probably not a great idea to commit to an ironclad timescale, but if your posts give a sense of how and when you fit the work into your life, people can have some sense of what to expect and be a little more understanding than they might be otherwise.

- Blaze it. If you're sure you can tune out the whiney clowns, Blaze it. Yes you'll get whinging edgelord nitwits in the comments, but you will also get seen by potentially interested folks who would never have stumbled over you otherwise, and they'll stick around when the other dummies are gone.

So you've been Commissioned.

- Keep in touch! Generally speaking, just staying in touch to say "Hey, this is still in the pipeline" now and then is plenty. Don't weird yourself out about it, don't psyche yourself out of getting in contact if it's been a while. Just message. It's cool! I don't mind waiting for the art itself, at all, but long periods of ghostly radio silence are disheartening. If you're art-blocked up the wazoo, it's nbd to say so. If you're taking a break to work on some personal stuff or casual no-pressure sketches, say so! Literally any contact at all is better than no contact. If nothing else, all you have to say is "Hey, just checking in. I have been making progress on your piece/I plan to get some work done on your piece today/this week/this month. Hope all is well!". Bam, done.

- Some would-be commissioner types like to have their shiny completed art piece revealed all in one go and kept all to themselves. Some (me) love to see WIP updates that they can reblog from you, so they have an extra chance to roll around in their fandoms and tags a little. Some artists don't like showing their WIP stuff publically though. All of that's fine - regardless though, make sure you're both on the same page about all of that, and what format and what channel they'll get their piece in, from Day 1.

- Let the client know if you'd be up for working with them again, or if you'd like x and y conditions if they want to work with you again, or if you're all done and you never want to see these damn characters or this bloody setting again. As a client, you can feel a bit weird about hitting the same talented creative up five times in a row for the same two blorbos in a situation, so it's a good idea to intercept that if it's not an issue for you.

Remember - commissioning something has the potential to feel a little like a weird awkward Tinder convo for money. As an artist... well, you're already an artist, but it’s in your interest as somebody who eats and uses electricity to make it obvious that working with you will be easy and hassle free for all involved. What can you do to ensure that, and signal it?

All the love to Art Tumblr. I'll come knocking on some of your doors again next time I have spare cash and a hankering for some more angsty Dani and Grace McTerminatorDarkFate stuff.

The only thing I need tumblr to do is to get like... cool with the idea you can hire people here to do commissions for you and to like.. consider monetary support for artists cuz one of the reasons and the biggest reason I moved to twitter in the first place is because people there buy my art. I make a living there doing art. And the vibe here is **we don't do that here** If you want artists to be here and do art you gotta be okay with the concept of artists trying to make money. I hate capitalism as much as the next person but I'm also 30 years old living with my fucking parents because I can't pay for a 1 bedroom apartment. Artists are not 'big business'. We're not Disney. We're just people trying to make a living or some money for groceries and shit.

[oddlyzach]

copy

Alright, odd ones, gather 'round - this week’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and I’m feeling pretty accomplished. You know that feeling when you finally figure something out that’s been nagging you? That’s me right now with this whole blog scheduling thing. I finally cracked the code on how to schedule posts in advance so I can just set them and forget them! The weekend before, I get everything sorted, and boom, no more last-minute clicking. It’s honestly been a game changer.

Of course, this blog’s been a labor of love - and let’s be real, a bit of a chaotic adventure. I mean, my last name’s Bilcsik, pronounced “Bill-sick,” and that’s been a challenge when picking a domain. A lot of folks don’t get it, but hey, I’m working with it. I’m still figuring it all out, but the journey’s been worth it. Plus, I can’t wait to see if anyone actually emails me through the site - like, really emails me, not just the spam stuff. If you’re reading this, by the way, don’t hesitate to hit me up with your cool inventions or creative projects via the contact page. I want to see what you’re working on!

So, let’s talk about some habits I’ve picked up to keep the wheels turning, shall we? As much as I love diving deep into writing and content creation, I’ve learned the hard way that I need to stay hydrated and well-fed while working. You know how it goes when you get in that hyperfocus zone - it’s easy to forget to eat or drink. But trust me, the quality of my work skyrockets when I’m keeping myself fueled. And yeah, I try to hold myself accountable by letting others know what I’m working on. Deadlines? I’m coming for you.

In between working on the blog, Oddly Chill, High Tracks, and juggling social media, I also try to sneak in some gaming breaks. Creative outlets are everything, and I’ve learned that having a fun hobby to switch gears with helps me stay refreshed and full of ideas. Plus, when the grind gets intense, it’s nice to have something that takes me out of my head for a bit. This week, I also got my hands on the Borderlands Pandora’s Box for Xbox - got it for a steal at $37 during a sale - and let me tell you, I’m pumped to dive in. It’s like having everything Borderlands-related at my fingertips. Can’t wait to see where this ride takes me.

Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m not exactly rolling in it over here (who is, right?). I’ve got a lot of creative projects on my plate, and while I don’t always make tons of cash, I’m doing what I love - and that’s priceless. I’m so grateful for the support I get from you, my odd ones. It truly means the world. If you’re feeling extra generous and want to toss a tip my way, I’d be beyond thankful. You help keep the chaos going, and I’ll keep delivering creative stuff for you to enjoy.

So, that’s my week in a nutshell. I’m rolling with the punches, staying hydrated, and pushing forward. I’m excited for what’s to come - and I’m stoked to take you along for the ride.

Stay weird, stay creative, and as always, let your imagination run wild. Catch you later.

Zach

[mario8th]

I don't know if I'm writing this post out for anyone really, I think I just need to see it written out. Mario In Review is set to finish March 10th, and I really don't want to take a break. I mean, I really, really do, but also really really don't at the same time. So I've been hard at work* writing scripts to fit into this gap in scheduling. *trying and bashing my head against writers block So after MIR I think I'm going to try and get a review about Tunic out. I think I know what I want to talk about, but I'm having a really hard time writing it all down. Even me writing this is to procrastinate writing the actual script, although I made decent progress today having now finished Two(2) whole paragraphs. Then I want to do a review of the 1993 seminal hit Super Mario Bros, and the scheduling works out perfectly so the next video can be a review of the 2023 probably questionable but undoubtedly financial hit Super Mario Bros After that's more of a wash. I've got ideas for Psychonauts 1 and 2. Splatoon 3's single player. And I'd like to write about how Lil' Gator Game takes inspiration from Breath of the Wild while incorporating it in a much smaller scale game.

Different topic, I just started watching the second part of Jojo Stone Ocean after putting it off for some reason. I always forget how much I love JoJo until I'm watching it, but man is it some good Anime. Definitely gonna talk about it on my pod next week Also today I got my final part to what will soon be my new PC, so tomorrow I think I'm gonna try and "build a PC" which is still incredibly scary to me.

And I just realized that as of tomorrow I've been making Youtube videos for 2 years now. February 3rd I released my 2020 GOTY video, a couple weeks later I put out a video on the Paradise Killer soundtrack, an album I am listening to literally right now as I'm writing this. And I wasn't entirely consistent that first year, but as of January 22nd 2022 I've kept a consistent schedule of every other week (except for Christmas where I went a week early, and now I'm going to weekly again, plus I started a podcast in there too) But other than one week where I missed a podcast I've been remarkably consistent. I think that's a big part of the reason why I want to get a video out in between Mario In Review and the Mario Movies Reviews. Even though I'll have been going weekly for 6 weeks I want to keep to the base schedule. Also just in general I've spoiled myself by having so many videos done in advance, now knowing I only have a little over a month to finish the next feels, I dunno, bad. This is tangential but I've started receiving more thumbs downs on my videos than before. Someone disliked my 21 GOTY, and my most recent podcast. And as it turns out dislikes really suck. There's literally nothing I can take away. Did those people just not like me? Did they not like my opinions? Did they not like my production? Cannot say, it's just a number. But a number that I wish didn't affect me as much as it does. I think in the end I'm just telling myself I need to keep doing it, but it's certainly disheartening.

I think that's enough of that. To recap, Mario in review for the next 6 weeks, then bi-weekly hopefully a video (about Tunic, maybe lil Gator Game), then the Mario Movies. And I'll keep doing the podcast for now too. Okay bye!!!!!

[cinnamonest]

Sorry for the error to anyone receiving two notifs for the same post, I just posted this, noticed an error as soon as I did, and tried to edit the post, but it kept spinning and the chrome page encountered an error and closed, so I’m just going to repost.

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The Childe high school teacher post and the last babysitter post has reignited my age gap love, I might make a sort of series eventually but for now I haven't done any Xiaoposting™ in a while so have this

 //Age gap, HS teacher/student, alcohol consumption, drugging

 (Also I know various places have a teacher-rotational schedule and not a student-rotational schedule but I just made it the latter because it worked better with the idea here, sorry)

  ----

On the bright side, working at one of these uppity private schools has its advantages. Better pay, more well-behaved kids, better facilities. The downsides are the snobbishness of some of the kids, and the area is not the best of climates, but it's worth the pay.

 Regardless, wherever you go, to some extent there will always be the same types of students. As a teacher, you can predict that, with each incoming class, there will always be one or two students who fall into a specific role. There's always at least one that, without fail, fills a particular "spot" of sorts. Even at a rich kid school, there's still athletic jerks and social butterflies and computer nerds and every other archetype you can think of. Some are more difficult than others, but you think you're adequately prepared to deal with whatever may come your way.

 Your subject is one of those standard classes, mandatory for each student to take, broad and standardized. So it's not like any one particular type of student takes it, unlike electives like art or theatre or specialty classes like advanced maths or sciences, no, you get all sorts of personalities. Not to mention you get a wide variety of investment levels -- some care, they're enthusiastic and enjoy the subject, some try their best but aren't particularly interested, and then some could not care less, putting in minimal effort, constantly checking the clock waiting for it to be over.

 You can tell a lot about individual students without ever having to speak to them, it's just in the way they walk, dress, their posture, where they choose to sit, their handwriting, the light (or lack thereof) in their eyes. You can even make pretty accurate assumptions about their personal wellness, home life, aspirations, personality, interests, and so on. Not that you don't also love getting to know each one as an individual, of course, you're particularly excited to meet and memorize each new face and name, and the individual attached.

 On the first day, the first student to enter homeroom actually comes into the room well before it's time to start the day. Most of the others are taking a bit of time, since many are talking to and reuniting with friends they haven't seen in a few months. There are, in your experience, two reasons why this can happen -- either he's new and for some reason transferred to a different school for his final year of high school, or, he is simply, as you would call it it, "that kid."

 It becomes almost immediately evident that it is the latter.

 He doesn't say anything himself, and almost seems startled when you chime a quick good morning! at him. He just looks up at you for a brief second, nods in acknowledgement, and then makes a direct beeline for that one seat in the far back corner of the room. Reaches it, sets his bag down with a heavy thud, and then sits down and slouches over. Right. You can make a few guesses about him, just from that brief interaction.

 You do pay attention to behaviors, of course, you're in this occupation because you do care and want to enrich the kids' lives and support them and all of that, so you're certain you'll learn his character as you do everyone else's. He just... fits a certain profile. The messy uniform presentation (shirt not tucked in, shoes all scuffed up, and so on), the dark undereye circles, the slouching posture, the silent brooding demeanor. Everything fits perfectly for that one particular type of student.

 You're perfectly on the mark, too. In the coming days, Xiao proves to perfectly fit the idea you had in your head of what he'd be like.

 He just weakly raises a hand during roll-call for homeroom, doesn't say "here" or anything at all. In your actual class, when you assign the occasional breakout group work, letting students pair up or get into small groups to complete an in-class assignment, he always chooses to do it by himself. Every take-home assignment is turned in horrendously crumpled or creased -- you've directly witnessed the fact that he just loosely stuffs all books and papers into his bag. Messy, but still legible handwriting. Everything lines up with the assumptions you made from the first few seconds of meeting him.

 But he's not a bad kid. Even if sometimes he turns things in a day late, he stills turns in everything nonetheless. Granted, his grades are not... the best, but he's not failing, and you can tell he's trying. That's what matters, isn't it?

You also try to pay attention to and keep tabs on students that seem to struggle a bit socially, so before long he's essentially your number one subject for said observations. You've never seen him interact with someone by choice. He's in this odd middle ground where he's certainly not popular, in fact you're pretty sure he doesn't have any friends... Yet, he blends into the background very well and doesn't stand out at all, so he's not getting bullied or anything either. The usual bully types find him too boring to pick on. They certainly tried; back in the middle school years they found that picking on him didn't give them the reactions they were trying to invoke. He just sighed and ignored them, so they quickly moved on to more entertaining victims, and now they no longer even acknowledge he exists, much less try to mess with him.

 Equally concerningly, and perhaps most frustrating, considering the time and effort you put in, is a slight academic challenge. He does try and all, but he's not the most attentive student, has a tendency to visibly space out and get lost in thought, completely blank thousand-yard stare. Usually when you call on him, you can see him snap out of it, and he more or less proves that he was in fact zoned out, because he needs you to repeat the question, and is observably completely lost. Other times, he just looks like he's on the verge of falling asleep. You figure part of it is certainly due to sitting so far away from the front.

 However, this issue thankfully is similar in nature to another issue you have with some other students -- since you let your students sit where they want, of course most students will sit next to friends. The issue being that, predictably, this leads to a lot of distractions and disruptions, costing you precious time and all. You hate to upset anyone, but for the sake of productivity, you move them around and make a seating chart, a few weeks in.

 It occurs to you that perhaps this could be an opportunity to get him into a spot where he has more chances to interact, out of his shell so to speak, and a brighter spot to help him not space out. Oh, you could put him next to one of those sympathetic, super social types that goes out of their way to reach out to the loner types and be their friend. That would be helpful, right? That's totally not an introvert's worst nightmare or anything. Thus, you leave a chart displayed at the front of the class the next day, so everyone can find their spot.

 You'd think you shot him in the chest, you can see his facial expression go through the five stages of grief when he sees it. Having to give up the treasured, the sacred, the prized back corner seat? To sit in the FRONT? Are you out of your mind? Not to mention, the back corner has a tall supply cabinet along the wall that casts a comforting shadow over him at all times, and now you're demanding he sit directly beneath the light. AND you put him next to one of those bright eyed, high-energy  people who's going to go out of their way to -- unsolicitedly! -- force their acquaintanceship upon him out of pity. He's not even next to a wall, meaning he has people on both sides. What kind of sadistic pleasure do you take from this.

 But begrudgingly, he sluggishly grasps the top of his backpack and drags it along the ground to the front seat, and sits without protest, although he certainly has a mopey expression for the days to come.

 You still check on him to ensure your choice had some positive effect... or maybe not. As expected, the outgoing kid you put him next to insists on working with him, but every time you look over said kid is talking a mile a minute, while he just sits still and silent with a glazed-over thousand yard stare... maybe that wasn't the best move...? At least it counts for interaction.

 You ask around a bit, talk to other teachers who have had him as as student for years, and they all say the same thing. He's just like that. Nonetheless, you can't help but feel some concern. Frankly, as weeks pass, you do worry a bit. He just has a constant melancholy vibe, gives off this air of depression and loneliness, and you can't help but wonder if maybe something is wrong, if he needs help in some way. In your experience, there's always some kids who really do need help, be it related to their home life or their friends or just their sense of self, and it's just as much your job to ensure their prosperity in life as much as in academics, right?

 So you do something about it. You ask him to stay behind for just a minute after a class -- at first, he seems nervous, thinks he's done something wrong, awkwardly fidgeting. But he seems a bit surprised when you ask him a gentle is everything okay? You just seem down, I was just wondering if I can help...

 He shakes his head, mumbles out that he's fine. Nothing wrong. Really. He keeps his eyes glued to the ground as he speaks. You can sense he's probably uncomfortable, so you dismiss him after that. But not without giving a quick reassurance.

 If you ever want to talk, you can always come find me, okay?

 He nods. Still doesn't look at you, his eyes just dart from wall to wall. He leaves -- more like scampers away as fast as possible -- when you finish speaking. You're fairly certain he was barely listening, and will completely disregard you, even maybe doesn't have anything wrong. Maybe talking to him wasn't the best idea, even, he might have just found it awkward or strange... so you assume he won't actually take you up on the offer.

 Until he does.

 It's after school lets out and most kids have already started to go home, a few days after your interaction, you're just sitting at your desk and typing when you hear footsteps coming up to your door. Then they pause, and move back in the other direction, then back towards you again, then away again, as if the person in question can't make up their mind and is hesitating... But finally, you see his head quietly peek around the doorframe, quickly retreating when you look up, but coming back around again when you tell him to come in.

 He's awkward and quiet as he makes his way in, stands there stiffly in front of the desk until you encourage him to sit down. He sits backwards in a chair, folding his arms over the back and resting his head on top of them, legs sprawled out. You try to make him feel more comfortable by smiling and speaking in a soft voice. So, what's going on? Did you have something you wanted to say?

 He pauses for a moment. He still doesn't look you in the eye, fixating his gaze instead on where he has his hands clutched together against the back of the seat.

 ...What are you working on?

 He doesn't seem to actually have any sort of problem he wanted to talk about, no, he just wanted to talk to you, apparently...? You were expecting venting or dumping heavy emotional stuff on you, but it turns out he just asks about your work. What class is that for? Do you like that class? What's your favorite class you teach? Do you have a lot of work? Are you usually here late? He asks each question one by one in a fairly low voice, and then waits for you to answer. And then waits quietly a little more, as if waiting for you to say more, prompting you to continue speaking, and only then does he move onto the next question. All in all, you end up having to fill several minutes of what would otherwise be silence before he asks another short question. You continue this back-and-forth for quite a while.

 A normal conversation is not exactly what you had in mind when you said you could talk, but you figure that this undoubtedly still helps, just having someone to talk to can have a positive impact on someone's life. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about specific things bothering him, or isn't ready to yet, you think, but he still wants some kind of connection and interaction. When someone is depressed or upset, just having a person to talk to is good for the mind, so you've heard. So you're still helping, you reason.

 Eventually, though, after a few hours pass, you do need to go... You softly ask if it's okay if you can continue tomorrow. He nods, seemingly startled by realizing how much time passed, and apologizes for taking up so much of your time, but you reassure him that it's no trouble at all and that you'd love to continue talking tomorrow. You don't want to discourage him or make him feel unwelcomed, of course, so you emphasize that you'd want to continue. It's good for him, right? Clearly this talk was helpful to him in some way. Emotional support and all that.

 He does come back the next day, but still has nothing in particular to speak of, just more general questions and light conversation. You don't give him the same talk at the end of the day about how he could come back tomorrow, but you assume he knows he's welcome. But he seems to be in a better mood, so you think maybe you've effectively accomplished helping him.

 Except he does come back a third time anyway, which is totally fine of course. This time, he comes to your door during the lunch period, asking if it's okay to eat in here with you (rather than the empty classroom he usually finds a quiet place in), and of course you say it's fine. No big deal, you don't mind. He... still comes back after school as well, though.

 And that repeats the next day. And the next day. And the... next... day...

 You quickly realize there has been a bit of a misunderstanding. What you meant was that if he had some kind of problem, he should come talk to you about it... but apparently he interpreted your words to mean you were open to regular conversation on a daily basis. That is, if it can even be called "conversation," since it's mostly him asking random questions and you answering. And if your answer is short, much like the first time, he just sits silently waiting for you to say more, so you've learned to draw out and elaborate on your answers. You figured at first that he would eventually come out of his shell so to speak and talk more, and he is, just... very slowly. After your first conversation, he starts to speak at a normal volume and with much less awkwardness, which is a good start, it's just still a very solemn tone... that you soon realize is just his normal voice.

 Still, you don't mind. You're helping. You're doing something good. So you aren't bothered at all. You smile and engage with him and try to make him feel comfortable and listened to.

 And he latches on like a leech.

 Every day now, like clockwork, when the lunch bell rings, you have a matter of a few minutes before he quietly shuffles his way into your room for your daily talks. And once the final bell of the day rings, sure enough, once again it's only a short time before he appears at your door again. It's always the same routine, he comes to sit at the same chair, sits the same way, hunched over with his head resting on his folded arms, sleeves muffling his voice. He asks about your day first, each and every time. And likewise, each and every time, you give the courtesy of repeating the question back to him, only for him to respond the same way: 'good.' On rare occasions, if something particularly interesting happened, or if something is especially irritating him, you might get a longer answer, but never more than a few sentences. He's far more interested in listening to you, but you do want to get him to open up as well.

 Which you do, to the best of your ability. It's difficult at first to converse with someone who's average number of words per sentence could be counted on one hand, but you find ways over time. The trick is to get him onto something he likes, and then he lights up a bit, and will talk much more. You've learned how to distinguish his emotions -- he doesn't emote very much, doesn't really smile or talk excitedly, rather, you've learned the tells of happiness for him: his eyes get a bit wider, and he speaks a bit louder, and in several sentences at a time, even though his facial expression and tone stay about the same.

 You've even been able to get him to ramble a bit by asking about those games he always carries around with him, since he's fond of bringing one of those handheld consoles to school each day and pulling it out at every conceivable opportunity rather than, you know, speak to another human being. You have absolutely no idea what he's talking about, but it makes him happy, and you're glad to see him actually look excited and enthusiastic about something.

 You still do worry for his sake on a wide variety of matters, though, because that's more or less the only thing he's particularly invested in. You briefly asked him what he plans to do after graduating, which only earned a shrug and an I don't know. He doesn't seem particularly concerned about the matter either. You're fairly certain he hasn't spent a single second thinking about his future in any way.

 Not to mention his physical health. He reveals, through a bit of prodding about his attentiveness tendencies, that he gets an average of maybe four hours of sleep at night due to staying up... but it's okay! They have energy drinks in the hall vending machines, especially helpful since his body has developed such a tolerance for sugar that soda is no longer enough to keep him awake. After you express concern, he reassures you that he limits himself to less than five a day, not to mention, he drinks water too, which balances it out so that the sugar he drinks doesn't have any negative effects... or something like that. You make a mental note that the sciences appear to not be his strong suit.

 Another factor for your concern is that it turns out he lives all by himself. His father is some big important business type, always off on work trips and only home once a month or so, so he spends all that time in the evenings alone. You can't help but worry about what effects that level of isolation would have. You at least assumed that he was going home at the end of the day and got to talk to parents or maybe siblings if he had had any, but after learning about his living situation, you realize that that means you are more or less the only person he has any significant interaction with.

 It's quite frequent interaction, though. He has a quiet but constant presence. Often, he ends up startling you, since he has such quiet footsteps and lingers silently beside you until you turn your head and jolt because you didn't even realize he was there. But he's there, by your side. He's always, always there. There's school events where they gather everyone into an auditorium, and no matter where you sit, he soon finds his way to you (he's supposed to sit with his current class, but you let it slide). There's those sports festival or field day type of events, too, during which he's always sneaking off to come be with you, and it's too much of a bother for the other faculty to come looking for him, even if they notice his absence. Even once when there was a fire drill, he slinked off from his own class and came over to talk to you... that time it actually did cause quite the inconvenience when he wasn't present for the head count, and the other teacher ended up panicking looking for who was missing for a good ten minutes.

 Despite all the time spent by your side, you feel a bit guilty when you have to leave for the day. He stays until you dictate otherwise, and it's always awkward when you finally have to gently make it clear that you need to go home for the evening, and that by extension he should go home too. If you didn't decide when you both leave, you're pretty sure he would just stay indefinitely.

 On the bright side, he's very low-energy, doesn't drain you quite like a lot of students would. And he helps! The first time you casually asked a quick 'hey, would you mind going over to that cabinet over there and handing me the stapler?', you're pretty sure he nearly knocked the chair over with the speed he moved to perform the task. If you ever need anything at all, he always scurries off to drop off some papers to the front office or pick up this or that from the printer or whatever it is that you need. You're pretty sure it makes him happy to feel useful, so you get him to help with those simple tasks pretty often.

 Sometimes you run out of things to talk about, and end up just sitting in silence. Sometimes he has things to work on, homework to do... and sometimes he doesn't. In which case, he simply likes to stare. It's unnerving, to say the least. Sometimes you're almost glad when another student comes in to disrupt the silence.

 Which is an issue in and of itself. Xiao is only one of many students you teach.

 Other kids need help just as much. They come to you for help during study halls or after school... but now, they start coming less and less often. Either they pass by your door and see you're sort of occupied and don't want to interrupt what they assume is you assisting someone else, or, as you're starting to realize, they're a bit intimidated. The few times students do come in to ask a quick question or drop something off, you see their eyes dart to the side of you before they stiffen up, and soon after seem in a rush to leave. You're not even the one on the receiving end, and you're not looking in that direction, but you can feel his glare from beside you.

 Which, in his mind, is fully justified. They're taking his time with you away. Every second counts. You were having an important conversation (or silence, but that's still an important moment between you two), and this person just outright barges in and interrupts with no shame? The ones who just drop things off are perhaps forgivable, but others come in and consume literal minutes of your time together. They even sometimes make quick small talk or a joke or something like that and try to consume your time for pointless reasons.

 Hmph. As if they have put in nearly the amount of time he has with you as if they know you well enough that they can be doing such things. They don't even know where you're from, your birthday, your favorite foods, your habits, none of the things he's learned either by observation or pried out of you with his many questions. It's unfair that they can talk to you so casually, when they aren't nearly as close to you as he is, haven't put in the time with you he has. The privilege to be so casual and friendly with you feels like something that should be earned, and he's the only person who has earned such a thing. Since when have any of them put in effort to get to know you? And more importantly, have any of them ever received a direct invitation to talk to you? Of course not. They and himself are on completely different levels, but these kids want to act like they have just as much of a right to such interactions when there is such a clear distinction between them.

 Besides, they can talk to anyone. They have families to go home to, friends to talk to, anytime they want, and yet they still feel the need to intrude on what little he has to himself. It's bothersome. So of course he can't help but glare at them. They're clearly bothering you, too. You're just so nice you don't tell them to leave. But they should know better than to waste your precious time. Don't they know you have work to do? It's incredibly inconsiderate to just assume they can consume your time like that. But you're so sweet, you wouldn't want to send them away, so he tolerates them. Barely.

 On your end, your worries only grow and expand. Not that you don't enjoy your time with him, because you do, it's just that it can't be good for him to have no peer interaction with people his age. Not to mention, he's developing a blatant dependency issue. You once remembered to tell him the day beforehand that you would be taking a day off for family related matters and would have a substitute, and his face looked as if you had told him you were quitting permanently, almost distraught. Even the day you come back, he's at school early, standing in the front lobby, staring out into the parking lot to see when you come in, and strides up to you the moment you enter... a habit that, from that day forward, becomes the norm. That incident in particular strikes you as one where you really began to feel... overwhelmed by him.

 You don't mind the arrangement you've fallen into, no, you're happy he trusts you and wants to talk to you and all, and he's a sweet boy, it's just... it's... it's a bit too much. And you have things to do, and you really can't afford to be doing this every day. You have actual work that needs to be completed, and due to your time with him, you end up having to take additional work home with you. You often stay up late working on various tasks, and you get home much later than you'd like.

 But you don't have the heart to tell him that. The fact that he keeps coming back means that this is important to him, and you can tell he's eager for each day's conversation. He's obviously attention-starved and desperate for any notion of affection and praise. You can't bring yourself to push him away in any capacity. So, you simply deal with it.

 There's one more big, glaring issue, though, that you feel gradually creeping up, one you can't just deal with. The most significant one, actually. You begin to sense it early on, you try to ignore it. You've heard of similar situations happening to teachers, and tell yourself maybe you're being paranoid after hearing of those, and reassure yourself it's not like that.

 But it's hard to feel like it's not like that.

 You're not sure if he's trying to or not, but even if he is, he's doing a terrible job. Even besides just his general obsessive attachment and need to be in your presence. He comes right up to you and stands beside you regardless of who is around. In fact, seeing you talk to someone else more or less ensures he'll latch himself by your side within seconds. He has a blatant glare and creates a tense aura emanating from him towards whoever the other person may be, be it a student, another teacher, a faculty member, anyone. You've gotten phone calls, even, during your time together, and he always seems to find it appropriate to ask who the other person was and what they wanted to talk about the moment you hang up.

 As time goes on, he starts to increasingly get far too physically close, to where you're almost touching. He's always in your room at every opportunity, always trailing you. Every single second class isn't in session, wherever you are, he's certain to be right there too. Even more time passes, and he gets even closer, sometimes to where you brush up against each other. At various school events, he starts to sit closer and closer to you on the benches or bleachers, closer and closer still until eventually it reaches a point where your thighs just barely touch. You resolve to not say anything for now... you're not sure how to.

 He's desperate for the slightest notions of approval and affection. One time, more subconsciously than anything as you were focused on something you were reading on your desk, you had him get something for you and, after a brief thanks, you reached out and patted the top of his head. You felt him freeze up and go wide-eyed, and he stood stiff for several moments before sitting back down. At first you thought it was unpleasant, and thus tried to remember not to do that again, but the next time he completed a task for you, he sort of... leaned forward and tilted his head down just a bit... just ever so slightly... you took the hint, and now it's become a habit.

 He even brings gifts. You offhandedly mentioned you liked some certain snack and sure enough, there was a bag of it on your desk the very next day. On one occasion, specifically your birthday (his knowledge of which was apparently acquired through some unknown means), he even bought you a gift, a small necklace. You told him it was unnecessary, but he kept insisting, so you did take it... only to realize it was solid gold, and that while he removed the primary tag on the front, he forgot to scratch off the jaw-dropping price tag on the bottom side. You're in an awkward position, you can't give it back, that would hurt him, and yet you feel horribly guilty. You just resolve to wear it each day so he knows it's appreciated. It just adds to the growing gnawing feeling that this is getting out of hand, but you don't know what to do without hurting him in some way.

 But more importantly, all of these occurrences serve to more or less confirm the creeping and very rapidly growing feeling that it is, indeed, like that. And that is a problem you do not know how to go about dealing with.

 It doesn't take long for people to notice. They cast glances whenever you two are together, whisper back and forth. Even the other teachers do it. When you walk from place to place with him quietly following behind like a duckling, as is the usual, you can see some kids smile in amusement and snicker amongst themselves. You knew it was coming, but still feel horrifically embarrassed when you're pulled into the supervisor's office to talk about the matter, being told that other teachers and students alike have picked up on it. You have to reassure the headmaster over and over that there is nothing illicit going on, and promise you're actively trying to address the problem, and they finally let you go under the assurance that you're handling it. You feel you're reaching a breaking point.

 And as for him... he knows it's all pity. He knows he's starting to become annoying. He knows he's burdening you. But he can't help it, can't bring himself to stop. You're so nice. You make him feel special and appreciated. You make him feel warm and happy, like a sort of chemical high that's utterly addicting.

 But he's also worried. Time is passing quickly. Months go by. The end of your days together is approaching quickly. And then what?

 Well, he can deal with that when the time comes. He'll just... have to convince you to keep seeing him outside of school. Which will be awkward. But he can do it. And he can probably convince you to agree to it. Hopefully. Maybe then... he doesn't allow himself to indulge in unrealistic fantasies, but maybe, just maybe, he can hope for something to work out.

Or so he thinks, until you off-handedly mention something one day that completely changes everything.

 You're excited to see his class graduate, you say, on one afternoon like any other, towards the very end of the year.. You say you're really proud of them all (and him especially, you add), and that it's an exciting new chapter of their lives, blah blah... and that you're glad you got to have this year here, seeing as you'll be moving to a new school next year.

 Oh. Well, that's not too bad. It's probably that other private school nearby, right? So he asks. But you say no. No, it's much further. You're moving completely, out of the area and all.

 You can't miss the expression on his face, distraught as if you just told him the most horrible news in the world. But you'll keep in touch, you add quickly to reassure him (even if you have no real intention to do so -- surely he'll have moved on by that point, after all). Besides, he'll probably be somewhere else anyway, soon enough.

 His face softens. He shrugs. I guess so... but you can't help but think he seems unusually tense, even for the rest of the day, and well into the next few days. Surely it's not that bad, right? He already wouldn't be able to see you every day anyway... well, you're at least fairly confident he wasn't planning on coming in to visit you daily even next year, although you can't say that with complete certainty.

 Once he gets out into the world, you tell yourself, he'll move on and forget about you. He'll find someone his own age and be happy. You think. You hope. It won't be a problem. Surely, even if he does have some raging teacher crush, he knows it will always be just that, and he acknowledges it's unrealistic, you're sure.

 So when he makes a request of you a few days later, even one that might be a bit questionable, you agree.

 See, he has no one coming to see him graduate, he tells you, his father is busy, so... you know how everyone else goes out to celebrate with their parents and stuff? Maybe... if you don't have anything to do...

 He's never been quite so forward. But that must mean it means a lot to him, and it hurts your heart to think he'd be alone that night, so you agree. It won't be too bad. And after that... well, graduation night is pretty much the last time you'll ever see him anyway. It can't hurt.

 So you agree. You attend the ceremony and all that, meet up with him afterwards. You expect him to be happy, big life milestone and all that.

 But he seems somehow more quiet than usual. Almost nervous, even. Looking all around, avoiding eye contact, mumbling, barely speaking... he's a bit shaky, even, you can see his arms tremble a bit. He says he'll take you "there", which you assume to be some place of choice to either eat or drink or something along those lines. See, he even borrowed his father's car this time! After dropping the keys and failing to insert them correctly several times due to trembling hands, he manages to drive you away into... a not very urban area... it's actually getting quite rural... you only realize as you turn into a driveway that he actually, in fact, meant his house. Ah. That, well, that's not what you were anticipating, but... you're already here, and you'd crush his heart if you refused so...

 It does cross your mind that a lesser person doing this might be intentionally manipulating their knowledge of your pity to encroach on your boundaries, push you into a position where you can't bring yourself to say no. But then you think back to all the time together... he's overly-attached, sure, but he's good. A good kid. He wouldn't... do that. He's just socially lacking in awareness and all that, doesn't realize that this was probably an inappropriate move. But technically, he's no longer your student, so... you can let this slide this time.

 You're reminded that there's a reason he's at the school he is -- the place is very expansive and ornate. He almost seems out-of-place, in a way, it's almost as if it's unfitting for him, despite it literally being his house. He's still very jittery, nervous in his movements. He's probably not used to having people here, you assume. He says something about getting you something, that his father keeps a bunch of wines somewhere around here... and he's off before you can say it's unnecessary, footsteps thumping down the stairs to a basement. He comes up with a bottle in hand, walks into another room you assume is a kitchen, since you can't see inside. Comes back a few moments later, glass in hand, extends it out to you. His movements are mechanical, almost, hyperfocused on the task, forced and rushed. You smile and thank him in some attempt to calm his nerves or whatever is making him behave so tensely. It seems so... strange. He's always been not talkative, yes, and awkward, certainly, but he was never the type to be so anxious, not outwardly at least.

 He's staring very intently at your hands that grasp the glass. Probably wondering if you'll like whatever it is. It's rather nice, actually, you can tell it's of some degree of high quality. Nothing particularly unique about it in taste or anything. You briefly ask, and he pauses, abruptly stands up and shuffles back into the kitchen, only to return to name it for you. It strikes you with some oddness that he wouldn't have known, since he presumably picked it intentionally, otherwise what would be be so nervous about, if not that it was good to you?

He says something else, but you can't quite understand. You ask him to repeat what he just said. The words don't come out of your mouth.

 You try to shake your head to drive away a sudden wave of tiredness you feel coming on, but your head won't move. When you open your eyelids, everything seems to spin and blur. Your limbs feel heavy.

 You see him stand up and move. But more importantly, you're still acutely aware of touch. You can feel the glass slipping out of your hand and onto the floor, and your head tilts towards it, but you just find yourself blinking, unable to move. Your brain commands your arm to reach out, but nothing happens. You see him pick it up and put it on the table, not bothering to do anything about the red seeping into the carpet.

 You feels hands on your upper arms. Turning your body. Gently lowering you down. His hands are cold. You can feel each contact of fingertips to your skin. Your arms. Your thighs. There's cold touch under your clothes, to your waist, your ribcage. The air of the room is cold on your bare skin as it's gradually exposed.

 Are you okay?

You find something strange about being asked such a question, not to mention that he sounds far away. Your head lolls to stare straight up, and you open your mouth, but no sound comes out. He's too blurry to make out his face.

 The roughness of fabric sliding down and off your skin. Cold touch to your shoulders, your hips. But his body is warm. You can feel it close to yours. You can feel heat from where his breath hits your neck. You can feel heat at your inner thighs. You can feel some faint, sharp frictional pain. You try to say something again, but you hear your voice come out as only a muffled groan. You feel everything fade away, and come back, and fade away again, slipping in and out of consciousness.

 You're still limp. There's soreness inside your body. You feel yourself come to just enough to sense the quiet stillness, and then everything feels far away again, except for touch. You feel yourself being lifted, firm arms behind your back and under your knees. Thumping footsteps up a set of stairs. There's a soft, but solid surface beneath you again, and you're warm. Warmth envelops your entire body. You feel the faintest sense of negative emotion, panic and confusion and shock and whatever else all muddled together, so faint it fades away with ease, even when you hear a click as something wraps around your ankle. You feel so, so tired, utterly exhausted, so when warmth presses up against you, it's easy to lean into it, to let yourself fall into unconsciousness. Warm... oh, in bed. Your thoughts clear just enough to process it. He must have put you in here since you're so tired... that makes sense to your muddled brain. How sweet. Always such a nice boy.

 He is concerned for you, too. He checks to make sure you're breathing all right. Puts a still-shaking hand to your neck to check your pulse. Makes sure you're not positioned awkwardly in a way that would cramp your muscles anywhere. He cares, of course... and perhaps this helps to alleviate the crushing feeling of guilt. But... you made nice noises... so that's, that's good right? So he doesn't need to feel as bad... maybe when you wake up you'll actually be okay with it. Maybe. Probably not.

 But... he resolves to tell himself, at least for right now, that you will. He can believe it for just these few precious moments, climbing in beside you and pulling you close. However you may act tomorrow, right now you're warm and soft and you don't stiffen up or push him away when he shuffles forward and presses up against you, wraps his arms around you. Such a wonderful feeling... who knew he could feel so happy. Whatever is waiting tomorrow can just be dealt with then.