#i want to save my data from it though so i have to figure out How To Do That

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y'all i've been upset about nanowrimo's shenanigans since last year, when kids weren't safe, and now there's this AI shitshow, and i want to cry about it again, because nano has been SO IMPORTANT to me since 2008--it helped me hack my writing process and make a bunch of cool shit, and i've written so many stories i love using it as a jumping off point. but. we gotta protect kids, and we gotta get the fuck out of here with AI bullshit.

so. the decision i have come to is that i will still be participating in nano. but now it stands for "now a's [that's me] novel writing month." i'm still going to write a book in november, and i'm still going to shoot for the 1,667 words/day (even though my finished projects wind up way longer than that, invariably), because i've structured my creative life around this routine, but i won't be using their site any more.

i will also not be tagging my november project posts as nanowrimo, but i WILL still be tagging them as "nano[YEAR]" (because that's been my tagging system for untitled projects for uh. years.). and it's now a's novel writing month :)

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[burntheedges]

Meet the Teacher

Din Djarin x f!reader | 11.4k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3

summary: After your first few weeks as Nevarro's new schoolteacher, there was only one student's parent that you hadn't yet met. When you decided to send Grogu's dad a message, though, you never would have expected where it led.

a/n: Din's back! This is my fic for @penvisions' give a little love challenge. My prompt was mistaken identity. 👀 Once I figured out where I wanted to take that, this was pretty fun to write! Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me whip this one into shape. Also, I did attempt to research how messaging would work in Star Wars, got conflicting results, and then gave up and decided I can do what I want. So consider this almost canon-aligned as far as messaging goes. lol

tags/warnings: epistolary, fluff, space texting, reader is an elementary-ish teacher with no physical description, a lot of school-talk, elementary school student shenanigans, flirting, teasing, pet names (cyar'ika/sweetheart, mesh'la/beautiful), mistaken identity, misunderstandings, Star Wars cursing (kriff, kark, dank farrik), a bit of ogling, smut (kissing, fondling, grinding, fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie)

...

You haven’t been on Nevarro long, but you’ve learned a lot about your new students already. When Karga recruited you, all the way from the Mid Rim, he’d told you it was a small but growing city with a small but growing school. They finally had enough students to need to split them up into multiple classrooms, and that was where you came in. You’d taken the job because you liked the idea of helping to build something, and because you were ready for something new.

You were taking over the room with younger children, which was your preference. And so far they’d been wonderful to work with – they were all so excited by new things, so happy to learn. Each day was a joy as you watched them grow.

As you got to know the kids, you also got to know the parents. Teaching the youngest children made you more well-known around town, and it had been easier to settle in than you expected. There was Diima, who was learning how to braid her own hair and had been teaching some of the other kids – her moms had invited you over for dinner and you thought you might end up being friends. Oora, the young Twi’lek who loved spaceships of all kinds – his father ran the food stall in the market that always had the best fruit. And Tamar and Ilana, the twins, who very intentionally never dressed alike – their parents ran the med clinic. 

And then there was Grogu, your smallest student. You’d never met his dad, though you knew of him from Karga and Cara. But so far you’d only learned that Grogu missed him and that he was off planet a lot. He was never there to pick up Grogu, at least not in the few weeks you’d been on Nevarro so far. It was always Cara or IG-11, or a few times even Karga himself. 

As you waved goodbye to the last of the kids for the day – Kiran, a young Mirialan whose mother was a mechanic at the shipyard – you collapsed into your desk chair with a sigh. Cara had come by to pick up Grogu again, but you’d been hoping to finally meet his elusive father. The kids would have a show at the end of the term to sing some songs and show off what they’d been learning. So far you’d been able to invite all of the parents personally when they came to pick the kids up. You sighed again and tapped your data pad – you’d just have to send him a message.

You’d sent him a message only once before, when you first started, just to introduce yourself. You hadn’t gotten a message back.

You stared down at the pad for a moment, biting your lip. Just be straightforward, to the point. You nodded and scrolled down to the contact for Grogu-parent. You saved all of your students’ parents’ contact info that way, though you added their names to the end if you knew them.

you: Hello! This is Grogu’s teacher, I sent you a message a couple of weeks ago when I started. I just wanted to invite you to our end of term show and to let you know that his schedule will be changing a bit, as we’ll be adding a rehearsal once a week. His class will be singing some songs and showing off what they have learned this term. They’re all very excited about it!

You sent another message with the date and time of the show and wondered how you should sign off.

you: I will also let Cara and IG know. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’ll be able to attend. Thank you!

Once the message was sent, you leaned back in your chair, hoping you’d hear back from him this time. 

You were startled when your pad chimed before you’d even settled into your chair.

Grogu-parent: Hello. Thank you. I will be there.

You grinned. A response! And so quickly! You needed to say something back, to make it clear this was a way he could get in contact with you if needed.

you: Great! I know that will make Grogu very happy. He has really enjoyed learning to follow along to the notes of the songs and he is becoming a very enthusiastic assistant on the drums.

There was a pause, and you wondered if you had said too much, or if he’d gone quiet again. But then your pad chimed. 

Grogu-parent: Something he can hit that makes noise? Sounds perfect for him.

You laughed. If someone had told you that morning that you’d actually talk to Grogu’s elusive dad and that he would make you laugh, you weren’t sure you’d have believed them.

Grogu-parent: Thank you for telling me. I know I miss a lot when I’m off planet.

Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t thought of it that way and wanted to kick yourself. Of course his dad would be sad to miss hearing about what Grogu did in school, and all the little ways he was growing and learning. Your heart squeezed in sympathy.

you: Would you like me to send you more updates? I would be happy to do it. I usually share them with parents at the end of the day. I’m sorry I didn’t think to send them to you this way instead.

Grogu-parent: That’s alright. I know I never replied to your message, I didn’t get it until days later. Yes, please send me updates. I might not be able to reply right away but I will be happy to get them.

You tilted your head as you read his message, wondering what sort of work he was doing. 

you: Oh that’s fine! I’ll start sending you updates, but no pressure to respond to them. I understand you must be busy. 

Grogu-parent: I’ll respond when I can. Thank you again. 

You smiled as you set your pad down and stood from your desk. Finally, you thought. You’d made contact with Grogu’s dad! You walked out of the schoolhouse with a spring in your step.

As you made your way to the market to pick up something for dinner, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. You were happy you’d moved to Nevarro, you realized – you liked the people and the growing feeling of community that you had been welcomed to join almost immediately. There were beings of all kinds in the little city, from all over the galaxy – you’d met a fellow newcomer just the day before, a friend of Cara’s from the resistance who was good with plants. You’d met Carm, a Bothan, who had a knack for fixing droids. You were pretty sure you’d even spotted a Mando, once or twice, and Diima’s mom had told you about the family that had just moved in next door to them and was planning to open a restaurant. 

It was a nice place to live. You were happy you’d decided to take the offer.

…

The next day, when Cara picked up Grogu, you let her know that you’d also invited his dad to the show. Grogu chirped and smiled at you, and you smiled back.

“That’s right, bud, your dad is coming!”

Cara grinned. “See? I told you he would, squirt.” Grogu made a noise like a cheer and waved his little arms and you both laughed. “See you tomorrow, teach!” Cara tossed Grogu lightly in the air as she turned and he squealed. 

You smiled, shaking your head at their antics as you made your way back to your desk. You knew just what you wanted to tell his dad.

you: Today Grogu kept working really hard on trying to write his name! The Aurebesh characters are still new and tricky for them, but he honestly does pretty well when we can draw them in the sand with his claws. He also shared his snack with his friend Oora, which was sweet.

You didn’t get an answer right away, and you tried not to be disappointed. It had been nice to talk to him the day before, but you knew he was busy with work, whatever work he did. You packed up your bag and hefted it onto your shoulder.

When your pad chimed, you dropped it unceremoniously back onto your chair.

Grogu-parent: Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He’s not usually one to share food.

You laughed, but before you could reply your pad chimed again.

Grogu-parent: That’s great about his name. I know he knows so much, even though he seems so little.

You nodded as you typed your response. 

you: He does! I can tell. Sometimes he gets a little bit frustrated when he can’t communicate the way he wants. But the kids are all great with each other and they really listen to him, even without words.

Grogu-parent: I’m glad to hear it. I worried he would be too little for the class, even though technically he’s older than I am.

You laughed and tucked away that little tidbit of information.

you: I know he’s technically the oldest, but he’s also not the youngest, in terms of development. They’re a good group and they get along well.

Grogu-parent: He is an old baby, isn’t he? Thank you. Again.

You laughed and found yourself smiling again as you walked to the market. You wished you knew his name, but it felt awkward at this point to ask. You supposed he’d have to stay “Grogu-parent” in your pad. For now.

…

After that, you fell into a bit of a rhythm.

He wasn’t always able to reply immediately – sometimes you came in to work in the morning to find his response waiting for you, and you didn’t let yourself wait for more than a few minutes at the end of the day.

But he always replied. 

You found him easy to talk to, with a clear sense of humor and love for his son that you could feel through the messages. It infused every word he sent you, and it made you smile softly whenever you thought about it. You still felt bad that you hadn’t thought of this arrangement earlier. But you tried to make up for it with more details now.

…

you: Grogu led the other kids in a game today at recess. It seemed to be a mixture of tag and catch, and I’m not sure if he made it up, but they had fun. And I was proud of him for teaching them without words!

Grogu-parent: Sounds like the game he learned from a friend’s kid on Sorgan. I’ve seen him play it before, but I’ve never figured out the rules. I’m not convinced they don’t make them up each time they play it.

…

you: Grogu drew you a picture today! From what I could tell it’s your house, he was very proud of it.

Grogu-parent: I can’t wait to see it. He has a collection growing at home on the walls of his room.

…

you: Today we learned about hyperspace, and Grogu got really excited when I showed some footage of what it looks like to travel in hyperspace from the cockpit. He’s not the only kid who’s been in space, of course, and they all had a lot of fun sharing about their experiences. He drew us a picture of what I think is your ship, and the other kids loved it.

Grogu-parent: He does love hyperspace. I think it’s the colors. That kid loves to fly, even to go upside down. Never seen someone treat an evasive maneuver like a thrill ride like that.

you: Evasive maneuvers, huh? Sounds intense!

Grogu-parent: It’s been a while, but when he first came to me we had to run from some people who were looking for him. And me. Took us around the galaxy for a bit.

You remembered the school’s security measures that Karga and Cara had told you about and furrowed your brow.

you: Is everything ok now? Is he in any danger? Are you?

Grogu-parent: We took care of it. But that’s why we have the alerts in place at the school. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.

you: I’m not worried about me! But Grogu and the rest of the kids! I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt them.

You could believe it, though. You just didn’t want to.

you: I mean, I know the Galaxy can be like that. I just wish it wasn’t.

Grogu-parent: I know what you mean. I wish that, too.

You didn’t realize until later while you were eating dinner that he’d never answered your question about his own safety, and it made you worry. You didn’t even know what his job was, you realized, and felt the worry settle in your chest.

…

you: Grogu made you another picture but this time he refused to use any color except blue. I’m not sure what it is, but he was very insistent about it! Cara took it home for you.

Grogu-parent: I’m not surprised, he loves blue things. I can’t wait to see it.

…

you: Today Oora gave a demonstration of a traditional dance he learned from his family, and surprised us all – apparently Grogu had been helping him practice and knew the dance, too! It was very sweet of him to dance with Oora when he got nervous.

Grogu-parent: He does love music, and he really loves helping his friends. He feels everything so strongly.

Grogu-parent: I’ll tell him, too, but if you remember tomorrow, please tell him I’m proud of him.

…

For once, you had evening plans.

You hurried home at the end of the week to drop your bag and then to meet Cara and Diima’s moms at the cantina. When they’d invited you, you’d internally done a victory dance – you’d made friends!! – but externally, you’d kept your cool. Mostly.

Cara was the only one there when you arrived, and you settled in beside her in the booth.

“Teach!” She greeted you with a grin. “Whatcha drinkin’? How are the kids?”

You gave her your order and soon you had a drink, too. You filled her in on what your charges had been up to that week, getting a few laughs at their antics. “What about you, constable? Anything new?”

“Well, we were going to take care of a reptavian problem over towards the east end of the lava flats, but Mando had to go off planet again. We’ll wait for him to get back, could use his firepower.”

You tilted your head. You figured she was talking about the shiny Mando you’d seen around the market sometimes. “Who–”

But before you could ask, Neela and Aminet arrived, and by the end of the night you forgot you’d even had a question at all.

…

you: Grogu got excited when we learned about banthas and blurrgs today! We’re focusing on the letter Besh if you couldn’t tell. Then he drew a blurrg, it was honestly a pretty great likeness.

Grogu-parent: He’s met a few before, so he knows them pretty well.

you: Wow! When did Grogu meet a blurrg?

Grogu-parent: When I first met him, we had a friend who kept them. He’s even ridden one before. 

you: You know, his picture from today makes a lot more sense now. He drew a little Grogu on top of the blurrg.

Grogu-parent: He really likes blurrgs. They seem to like him too, which is good. Otherwise I’d be afraid they were going to eat him.

you: That IS good because they definitely would.

…

At some point, your messages with Grogu’s dad became less focused on Grogu. You still always made sure to send an update, of course, but you were starting to get to know him, too.

You were trying not to look too hard at how that was making you feel. 

You’ve never even seen this man. 

You were starting to realize that that might not matter to you. 

…

you: Today we went on a little field trip to the market and Grogu was very well behaved! 

Grogu-parent: Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He didn’t try to eat every blue treat in sight?

you: Well, no, he did do that. But then we stopped and talked to the man who makes those blue cookies he likes – his name is Tam – and he showed Grogu how carefully he has to make each one. The way Grogu held the one Tam gave him made me think he was in awe. Anyway after that he was very well-behaved

Grogu-parent: He does love to learn new things. I bet he loved watching the cookies get made.

you: He really did! And me, too. I had no idea they were so finicky

Grogu-parent: Not a baker?

you: I can make bread ok, I guess. Tam’s got real skill.

Grogu-parent: I can only make a few dishes but I’m trying to learn more for Grogu.

you: I bet he loves that! Is it hard to cook on your ship?

Grogu-parent: I don’t really, no space for it. I mostly rely on rations or quick things until I’m home.

you: Ok that sounds not so great, so PLEASE promise me you’ll try the new restaurant when you get back. It’s really good and you’ll deserve it after all those rations!

Grogu-parent: I will.

You tamped down the part of yourself that wondered if you could bring some long-lasting food that Grogu could give to his dad for his next trip. That was probably too much for a person you’d never even met. Right?

…

you: The kids have been taking turns telling stories about their families, and Grogu told us one in pictures today. It seemed to involve a lot of snow and spiders? Ice spiders? Are those real?

Grogu-parent: Of course he picked that story.

Grogu-parent: Yes, it was when we were on the run, like I told you before. My ship was damaged and we had to do an emergency landing on an ice planet.

Grogu-parent: The local fauna did not appreciate Grogu’s approach to exploring the area and chased us back to the ship.

you: Holy kriff! We’re they actually as big as a house, or was that his creative license taking over the drawing?

Grogu-parent: Most of them were small. One of them wasn’t.

you: That sounds absolutely terrifying

you: I’m so glad you’re both ok!! How did you get away?

Grogu-parent: A couple of the New Republic guys from Adelphi had followed us and helped out. But we had to limp over to Trask to get the ship fixed.

you: You know, that is basically what Grogu drew for us, I think I just couldn’t believe it was all true.

you: Ok my mind is totally blown. Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?

Grogu-parent: More than I would like, yes.

…

you: Grogu did really well with addition today! We’re learning about adding and subtracting with piles of tokens. He even helped his friend Kiran with a tricky one!

Grogu-parent: He’s so smart, I’m glad he’s getting to show it.

you: He really is! And he loves to learn.

Grogu-parent: I’m glad he’s so good at making friends. I was worried about him. I don’t set the best example.

you: What do you mean? You have so many friends

Grogu-parent: I can’t tell if you’re joking.

you: Not joking! There’s Cara, and Karga, and IG. 

Grogu-parent: 3? Is that a lot? I don’t think I’m very good at being friendly.

You hesitated, but it did feel right to call him a friend, at this point.

you: Well, you’ve also mentioned knowing people on at least two other planets. And you’re friendly with me! That is, if you don’t mind being friends with someone who sometimes forgets to switch out of “talking to kids” voice when talking to adults. And who is usually partially covered in arts and crafts.

Grogu-parent: I don’t mind. I’d like to be your friend.

You grinned and did not do a little victory dance. Definitely not. 

you: me too!

That one had made you float home.

…

you: Wait, you really calculate all your jumps yourself?

you: That’s so impressive! Does it take a long time? 

Grogu-parent: It did when I first started, but I’ve done it so many times it’s not so bad now.

you: Grogu must get his math skills from you.

Grogu-parent: So much happened in his life before I found him. Most of the time I feel like I’m learning things from him, and not the other way around. 

You felt a little squeeze around your heart at the thought of Grogu without this man, without his dad. You were glad they’d found each other.

you: That’s adorable, but you should know he shows us things that you taught him all the time.

Grogu-parent: Uh oh. Like what?

you: Today he showed us how to tie a cape around your neck so it will stay on. It made me wonder – do you wear a cape?

There was a pause that made you wonder if you shouldn’t have asked. Your message screen moved up as if a new message was about to come in, but then nothing did for another minute.

Grogu-parent: I do. Sometimes.

You laughed, a bit wonderingly. Who is this man?

…

you: Today some of the students shared stories or keepsakes from their homeworld or families – this isn’t a mandatory activity, since I know it can be complicated for some. Grogu drew us a picture of IG-11, I think. But he got really excited when Tamar mentioned that the twins have family on Tatooine, of all places.

Grogu-parent: He’s been there, so that was probably it. I guess I do have another friend there, too. Maybe two.

you: Ok, I’m starting to think you really undersold your ability to make friends

Grogu-parent: I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not good at being friendly.

you: You’re friendly with me! And how else did you get all these friends, then?

Grogu-parent: I ask myself that all the time. 

Grogu-parent: But it’s easy to be friendly with you.

You blinked and felt your face heat up, suddenly glad you were alone in your classroom. 

…

you: Today in rehearsal Grogu showed us that he memorized his part for the show! It was very cute, I’m sure he’ll do it at home for you.

Grogu-parent: Oh I’ve seen it. He’s been working hard on it.

you: Of course he has! I could tell

Grogu-parent: I’ll be on planet next week, maybe I could watch a rehearsal? If that’s alright. I don’t want to be in the way.

You grinned at your pad, but you also felt suddenly nervous. Were you ready to actually meet him? You didn’t even know his name.

you: Of course! No, you won’t be in the way, we have plenty of space. It will be so nice to finally meet you!

Grogu-parent: Ok, good. Yes, it will be.

…

On the day of the rehearsal you walked into the schoolhouse buzzing with nerves and excitement. 

You were going to meet him. Grogu’s dad, whose name you still didn’t know, somehow, but whose kind, funny, possibly-edging-towards-flirty messages were starting to take over your thoughts. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you couldn’t help it.

You were going to meet him. 

You managed to tamp down your excitement as your class arrived and took up all of your attention, but it never quite left your mind. By the time rehearsal rolled around after lunch, the nerves were back.

With 10 minutes to go, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the door what felt like every 5 seconds. Diima’s mom Aminet arrived, and then the twins’ parents. You knew Kiran’s mom was going to try to get away from the shipyard, too.

The door opened again, and you turned to see her slipping inside and smiled. When you looked past her, you were startled to see the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the street, about 15 feet from the school and framed by the door to your classroom.

He was tall, with very shiny armor and very broad shoulders. He was also covered in a slightly intimidating amount of weaponry, though you knew he was Cara’s friend and so you weren’t actually that scared. For a moment you simply stared at him, and even though his face was covered, you had a feeling he was staring back.

Curious, you took a step towards the open doorway, but that seemed to shock him into action. He took a corresponding step back, looked around, and then turned and walked away.

You poked your head out of the door and watched as he turned a corner, heading towards the market.

Weird.

You heard the kids start to make more noise behind you and turned, realizing it was time to begin.

…

Grogu’s dad never did show, but you tried not to let it get you down. At least, not until after the kids had left.

When Cara came to pick up Grogu, she smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I know, he was supposed to come. Sent me a message asking me to swing by, something came up.”

You sighed and shrugged back. “That’s alright. I know he’s busy.”

Your pad stayed stubbornly silent, and you left it at the school to discourage yourself from obsessively checking it all night long.

What happened?

…

Yawning, you dropped into your desk chair the next morning with a sigh. You hadn’t slept well, too worked up over what had – and hadn’t – happened the day before.

But your heart leapt into your throat when you saw you had a message waiting.

Grogu-parent: I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. I had to go off planet again, and it was pretty last minute. 

Grogu-parent: I already apologized to Grogu but I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I was looking forward to it.

From the timestamps you could see that he’d sent the messages while you were at home, trying to sleep. You bit your lip, wondering what to say back. It helped that he apologized but you still felt disappointed. 

you: That’s ok. I know you’re busy! I would have liked to meet. Maybe next time?

Grogu-parent: I shouldn’t be too busy for this. Next time, yes. 

you: Deal. I’m counting on you, friend

There was a long pause that made you bite your lip. Was that too much? You started to put the pad down, sighing.

But then another message appeared.

Grogu-parent: Since we’re friends, you should call me Din.

You froze. Din?

His name.

You started to grin.

you: I see you, trying to make me forget about missing you yesterday by telling me your name today!

As soon as you send the message you hesitate, wondering if that was too much. But he told me his name! This has to be flirting. We’re flirting. Right?

Grogu-parent: Missing me?

Kark. Of course he noticed that. Before you could even feel the heat reach your face he sent another message.

Grogu-parent: I really wanted to be there. 

you: I’m just teasing you, Din. Thank you for telling me

You grinned and changed his contact name.

Grogu-parent-Din: I missed meeting you, too

…

After Din told you his name, it seemed like your conversations just… flowed. You were opening up to each other in ways you hadn’t quite been able to before and it was making you feel giddy. 

On top of that, you were pretty sure he was flirting with you. At least, you hoped so. You couldn’t stop turning the question over in your mind. 

It’s not like you could ask anyone. You hadn’t told anyone you were having actual conversations with this man you’d never met – all Cara knew was that you sent him updates. 

These weren’t exactly updates.

you: Anyway, Grogu loved it. Painting with feet is always a popular activity but he was very enthusiastic

Grogu-parent-Din: That doesn’t surprise me at all. He loves making a mess.

You laughed.

Grogu-parent-Din: Is this one of those days when you’re covered in arts and crafts?

You blinked. He remembered that? And he was thinking about that? Was he thinking about what you looked like? You hesitated, and then typed your response.

you: Oh definitely. I’m wearing more paint than clothes at this point.

Kriffing hell. Why did I just say that? You stared down at your pad, incredulous. That had to be too much. You definitely shouldn’t be flirting with a parent like that. And you hadn’t even meant to flirt! You started to type again, to apologize, but he beat you to it.

Grogu-parent-Din: Sounds like quite a sight.

you: See, I warned you, being friends with me means being friends with someone who can’t stop kids from covering her in paint.

Grogu-parent-Din: Never said it would be a bad sight. 

You felt a tingle run up your spine. Did he–

Grogu-parent-Din: You’re not afraid of a mess. Neither am I. 

Grogu-parent-Din: You’re a good teacher. 

Kriff, you wished you knew what this man looked like. You said goodbye and stood up to leave, you should not be having thoughts like this in your classroom.

Not afraid of a mess, he’d said. 

Kriff.

…

Din kept flirting with you. It had to be flirting, you’d decided. (And you were definitely flirting.) But neither of you had addressed it directly. 

You spent your days with the kids, and about half an hour every afternoon flirting with Grogu’s dad. And then the rest of your evening thinking about it.

you: Grogu drew us a picture of a sort of humanoid-looking figure hanging off the side of a Jawa sandcrawler. It was pretty small in comparison with the sandcrawler, but was that you?

Grogu-parent-Din: Unfortunately, yes.

you: How did you end up hanging off the side of a sandcrawler??

Grogu-parent-Din: The Jawas took apart my ship, stole the parts. I was trying to get them back.

you: Well I assume you did, since you still have a ship

you: How did you get them back? Dare I ask?

Grogu-parent-Din: That’s a long one, but it involved me getting something they wanted from a mudhorn. 

you: A mudhorn?? An actual mudhorn

Grogu-parent-Din: I’ll tell you the whole story sometime. But yeah, I got the parts back. Got a whole new ship now, though, that one got blown up later.

You realized you were staring down at your pad, mouth dropped open, frozen. 

you: … Din. 

you: Blown up???

Grogu-parent-Din: You know, when I list it all out like this, it sounds kind of ridiculous.

you: Kind of?

you: Does this kind of thing still happen to you?

Grogu-parent-Din: I won’t lie, sometimes it does. But not nearly as often. 

Grogu-parent-Din: I promise, I’m careful. Much more these days.

you: You swear?

Grogu-parent-Din: I do.

you: Alright. 

As you set down your pad, you thought about what you knew about Din. He wore a cape, did evasive maneuvers in his ship, had friends on multiple planets, and sometimes hung off the side of sandcrawlers and fought mudhorns. Someday you’d find out what his job was, and this would all make more sense. 

You hoped.

…

At some point after he told you his name, you started taking your pad home.

It made sense, right? It would be rude to cut off the conversation because you had to go home, of all things.

And so like most nights, you found yourself sitting on your bed, smiling down at your pad, talking to Din for what you refused to recognize was over an hour at this point.

Grogu-parent-Din: You know, I didn’t realize how much calmer my life is now until I started telling you these stories.

you: I’m just glad your life IS calmer now! Din, sometimes you tell me things and I don’t know how you survived.

Grogu-parent-Din: Me too. That it’s calmer now, I mean. For Grogu, of course, but I get a lot more sleep these days.

you: I know you’re busy, but maybe you could stick around for a bit longer next time. Relax a bit? I think you need it

Grogu-parent-Din: I’m not very good at relaxing. 

you: Maybe you just need someone to show you how it’s done

You were flirting again. You bit your lip.

Grogu-parent-Din: You volunteering?

You grinned. He was flirting back.

you: I might be. What do you say?

Grogu-parent-Din: I say I’d like that. 

you: Yeah?

Grogu-parent-Din: Yeah, cyar’ika. Show me how to relax.

You let out a noise that you were glad no one was around to hear.

you: What’s that mean?

Grogu-parent-Din: I’ll tell you when we’re relaxing.

you: Promise?

Grogu-parent-Din: Promise.

…

With only a couple of weeks to go before the show, you were starting to feel the pressure, both for the kids and because you were finally going to meet Din.

He would have to come to the show, right? He said he would. You were pretty sure your distraction was noticeable – Cara had almost called you out on it multiple times. She’d taken to squinting at you and smirking knowingly when she caught you checking your pad. 

A few nights after the promise to let you show him how to relax – which you couldn’t let yourself dwell on, not if you wanted to get anything done – he told you about his ship getting blown up.

Grogu-parent-Din: I’ve got a new one, of course, but I do miss that ship.

you: Of course you do! How long did you have it?

Grogu-parent-Din: Almost 15 years.

Your jaw dropped. He’d lost his home of 15 years?

you: Din, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.

There was a long pause that made you worry you’d somehow overstepped. You started to type, to backtrack, when his response appeared.

Grogu-parent-Din: Thank you. 

Grogu-parent-Din: I think people expected me to just get a new ship, but for a while I didn’t want to.

you: Of course not!

you: ugh, who said that? Let me talk to them

Grogu-parent-Din: It’s ok, cyar’ika. No need. 

Grogu-parent-Din: Of course you can make me smile when I’m thinking about this.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tucked yourself into a ball around your pad on your bed. He smiled. 

you: I made you smile?

Grogu-parent-Din: You always make me smile.

Your own smile felt so big it was taking over your face.

you: You make me smile too, you know. Even when we’re not talking, you make me smile

Grogu-parent-Din: Yeah? How do I manage that?

you: I may or may not think about you, you know… sometimes.

Grogu-parent-Din: I think about you all the time.

You felt your entire body get hot and tingly and gasped.

you: Din!

Grogu-parent-Din: I do. Lately you’re all I want to think about.

you: Din. Are you flirting with me?

Grogu-parent-Din: I’ve been flirting with you, cyar’ika. Nice of you to finally notice.

You wanted to hide your face, even though you were the only person in your apartment. You settled for kicking your feet like a weirdo.

you: I hoped you were. I’ve been flirting too, you know

Grogu-parent-Din: Oh I know.

you: Din!

Grogu-parent-Din: I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you last time. I wish I had.

you: Well, the show is next week! so soon! We can actually meet

you: It’s not your fault you had to work.

There was another long pause, and you furrowed your brow, but it couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face.

Grogu-parent-Din: So I might have lied about that.

you: About what?

You frowned down at the pad.

Grogu-parent-Din: I didn’t have to go off planet suddenly.

you: What?? Din what are you talking about

You didn’t like the swooping sensation in your stomach. So then why had he left?

Grogu-parent-Din: I did come by the school that day, but I couldn’t go in.

you: Why not??

Grogu-parent-Din: I saw you, and I know, I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair that I’ve seen you. But I saw you, and you were smiling at someone, and you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika. 

Your mouth dropped open. What?

Grogu-parent-Din: I froze. I got tongue-tied, I guess. All of a sudden I just knew, but I wasn’t prepared. And then I ran like a coward. I’m sorry.

You handled your pad in shaking hands, making a few more typos than you usually did.

you: Din, are you tellign me that you thought I was so beautiful you ran awaY?

Grogu-parent-Din: Basically, yes. I know, I know, Cara already read me the riot act. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run next week.

you: You better not!! I can’t believe you’ve seen me and I’ve never seen you.

He ran away because you were too beautiful? What the kark? This sort of thing did not happen to you.

Grogu-parent-Din: I promise I will be there next week and I won’t run away.

you: Good.

you: No one’s ever thought I was so beautiful they RAN before, you know

Grogu-parent-Din: That you know of.

you: You know, that’s a good point

…

By the day of the show, you were a wreck.

You and Din talked every night, and it was wonderful, but it felt like a build up to something that was going to change your life. You didn’t want to put that much pressure on a simple meeting, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You liked him so, so much.

And on top of that, the kids were excited and nervous and bouncing off the walls. Literally, in some cases. You wanted things to go well for them, and you wanted things to go well for you.

It was a lot.

Grogu-parent-Din: Can I come by early? Or should I wait until after?

you: PLEASE come early. I can’t wait through the whole show to meet you, I’ll be too nervous! The kids are going home for a couple of hours after school, and then they have to be back for the show

Grogu-parent-Din: Cara is taking Grogu with Oora for a final practice together and I said I’d meet her there. So I can come as early as you’d like. You tell me when to be there and I will.

Your hands were shaking again.

you: How about half an hour before the kids are due back? Gives me time to have emotions but not to get TOO distracted.

Grogu-parent-Din: Am I going to give you emotions, cyar’ika?

you: You know you are, Din.

…

Somehow, the kids had been gone for an hour and you’d managed to finish setting everything up in the small auditorium. The little stage was ready and the decorations were perfect.

And now all you had to do was wait for Din.

It was nerve-wracking. You were doing your best not to watch the clock, but with fifteen minutes to go before he was supposed to arrive, you found yourself pacing around your classroom, talking to yourself.

You were debating running to the corner and back just to work out some energy when someone cleared their throat behind you.

You whirled, heart in your throat, and were surprised to find the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the doorway of your classroom.

“Oh! Hello, Mando.” You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to twist your hands together. “Can I help you with something?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked around the room, and you took a moment to study him. His armor was very shiny, and it fit him very well. He was a very broad man, you realized. And he had fewer weapons on him than the last time you saw him, though of course he still had some.

He took a step inside and his cape swayed behind him.

“You know,” he said, and his voice was deep and warm. You thought he might be smiling, but wondered how you could tell. “I know it’s not realistic, but I really did picture you more covered in paint.”

You froze and felt a tingling sensation flow from your feet to your head, making you suddenly lightheaded. It can’t be. 

“...Din?” you breathed, stunned. Your eyes traveled over the length of him again, and then suddenly caught on the cape. 

He stepped forward again and then he was right in front of you. You couldn’t stop gaping at him. 

“Hi, cyar’ika,” he said, voice deep. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against yours. 

Your body finally kicked back into gear at his touch and you shoved him lightly in his armored chest. “Din!” You put both of your palms on his chest and marveled at the fact that he was here, in front of you, solidly physical and real. “You’re here!”

He chuckled, and you marveled again at being able to hear him. “I promised I would be.”

You felt yourself start to smile and noticed his helmet dipped. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You ran your hands down his chest and then froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just started touching you, I didn’t even ask–” You started to pull your hands away but he caught them and placed your hands back on his chest.

“You can touch me,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” you asked, grinning.

He nodded. 

“I may have thought about it… a lot,” you confessed, stepping even closer. 

His hands released yours and came to rest on your hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

For a moment you just grinned at him, a bit stunned. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come in last time,” he said, and he did sound sorry. “I wanted to, I just…”

Now that you had him in front of you, real and solid and a man, it felt suddenly easier to tease him. “But you were overwhelmed by my beauty, huh?”

You gasped when he tugged you closer and squeezed your hips. “I was,” he agreed. “You are so kriffing beautiful, cyar’ika.”

You felt yourself begin to melt, but then remembered. “Wait,” you said, looking up at his visor. “You promised – what does that mean?”

He leaned down and nudged your forehead gently with his helmet.

“Sweetheart.”

…

The kids’ show went off without a hitch. Grogu was overjoyed to have his dad in the audience and played the drums with more enthusiasm than you had ever seen him have in practice. All of the kids did well, and their parents kept telling you how impressed they were as they headed home.

As soon as the area around you cleared, after the show, Din appeared with Grogu in his arms.

“Grogu, you did so well!” You reached your fist out to bump his little one and he cheered. “I’m so proud of you and I know your dad is, too.” You looked up at Din, who nodded. 

“I am,” he agreed, “I told him.” He looked down at Grogu. “Right, bud?” Grogu made a little noise that definitely sounded like agreement.

“Are you heading out?” You asked, smiling at Cara when she came to join your group. 

Din nodded. “Taking this one home. But, I wanted to ask – are you free tomorrow?”

You grinned. “I am.”

He took a step closer and Grogu made a little bah noise. “I’ll message you. But you have plans.”

You could feel Cara smirking at the two of you but you couldn’t look away from Din. “I do?”

Din leaned a little bit closer. “You do now.”

You said goodnight, but the warmth from finally meeting Din and knowing you had plans later carried you home. 

Grogu-parent-Din: Meet me at the market after lunch?

you: Yes! What are our plans?

Smiling, you made an update to his contact.

Din: I’m ready to learn how to relax.

…

You stood by the large tree at the edge of the market, nervous but excited. You’d spent too much time picking out your clothes and now that you were there, you couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to finally touch him.

“You look beautiful,” a warm voice said from behind you, and you spun around.

“Din!” You grinned. He was very shiny in the midday sun. 

He stepped closer and one of his hands came up to cup your upper arm. His gloved thumb moved back and forth across your skin in a light caress. “Hi, cyar’ika.”

You felt your face heat at the endearment, now that you knew what it meant.

“I’m ready to relax,” he said, voice teasing. 

You laughed and leaned a bit closer. He was right there, in front of you, and you felt like you were floating. “Alright. I say we walk through the market and stock up on some snacks, and then we’ll try out some aimless relaxation. Preferably on a couch or other soft surface. And maybe we’ll listen to some music.”

Din nodded along to your instructions, turning to follow as you walked towards the market. He slid his hand down your arm and slipped it into yours. “Does your place have a couch?”

You looked at him. “Din, would you like to come back to my place? Do you have time?”

He leaned forward and nudged his helmet against your forehead again. “Cara’s got Grogu. I’m all yours. And yes, I do want to.”

“Great,” you said, smiling, and started to point out your favorite stalls. You collected some fruit and cookies from Tam and some other snacks as you walked. 

Din took each item and stored them in a bag as you collected them. “Are these the cookies Grogu learned how to make?” 

You nodded. “And he still loves them.” 

Din laughed. “Of course he does.”

Once you had a nice assortment, you turned in the direction of your apartment. As you walked, you marveled at how easy, how right it felt, to spend time together in person. 

“Is it nice, being back on planet?” you asked. 

He nodded once. “Food’s much better,” he said, and you smiled. “So’s the company.”

You turned onto the small street with the door to your apartment. “Flatterer.”

As you stepped up to your door to unlock it, Din stepped up close behind you. So close you could feel the heat of his body. “It’s the truth, cyar’ika.”

You felt a shiver travel up your back as you finally unlocked the door, followed by the tips of his fingers as they followed the shiver. “Well, here it is.” You waved your arm at your apartment and stood to the side to welcome Din inside.

He looked around, and suddenly you felt nervous. Before you could get too worked up, though, he said, “I like it. It’s very warm, like you.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Din stepped closer and nudged your forehead with his helmet again. “You’re easy to talk to, and so warm in all of our conversations. It feels like that.”

You leaned closer. “Does this mean something?” You nudged his helmet.

He hummed. “It’s a Keldabe kiss. It’s how we kiss without removing our helmets.”

“Din!” You exclaimed, leaning back to look at him. “You kissed me when we met yesterday?”

“Couldn’t help it.” He leaned in to do it again and you grinned. “I’ve been wanting to for weeks.”

You reached down and took his hand, tugging him towards the living area. “Come on. We have some relaxing to do.”

To your surprise, rather than joining you on the couch, he started stripping off his armor and placing the pieces carefully on your dining table. He must have noticed your surprise because he explained, “Relaxing, right? This will be more comfortable.”

You watched carefully, taking note of each piece. When he was finished he was just wearing his flight suit and helmet. You couldn’t help but ask, “not the helmet?” 

Din seemed to tense for a moment, but then he relaxed. “No. I… my creed. I can’t take it off in front of other living things.”

You tilted your head, considering this information. “Not even Grogu?”

He shook his head. “Grogu is clan, he’s my son. Our clan can see our faces.”

That made sense. “Alright. Want to sit?”

You gestured at the seat next to you and smiled as he sat. 

“You don’t…” he trailed off and turned in his seat to look at you head on. “You don’t have more questions?”

You turned sideways and leaned against the back of your couch, propping your chin on your hand. Your knee brushed against his leg. “No, not right now. I mean, I want to know more, but mostly I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right? If it’s stuff I can know.” You reached over and slipped your hand into his and squeezed. “I don’t want to push you, and I like the way we’ve been talking.”

He leaned forward and squeezed your hand. “I like it too.” His voice was suddenly much deeper. “Thank you.”

You smiled. “Are you thanking me for being patient?”

Din nodded. “I am. So what’s the next step in our day of relaxation?”

You gestured at your sound system. “Let me put on something soothing.” You grabbed your data pad from the coffee table and set it up. “There.”

Soft music started to play and you eased back into your seat. 

“Do we just sit here?” Din asked, sounding a little baffled. 

It made you smile. “Yes, but we can talk. Or you can always lie down, that’s much more relaxing.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it against your thigh. “Want to try it?”

“Here?” He pointed at the couch and you nodded. He hesitated and then took off his boots. He slowly leaned down until he was lying back against the pillow. As soon as his back was flat he groaned. “Ok, maybe I needed this.”

“Maybe you need a back rub,” you replied. 

Din laughed. “Probably. I don’t know if I’ve ever had one. You offering?”

“Never?” You shook your head, incredulous. “Ask me again later. We’re relaxing right now.” You fell into an easy conversation about your week and you finally found out more about his job. As you talked, you leaned further into the couch and started idly tracing shapes along his chest with your fingertips without even realizing you were doing it. 

“A bounty hunter makes so much more sense than what I was thinking,” you remarked as he finished telling you about his last job. “All of your ridiculous stories make sense now.”

Din laughed again and you realized you wanted to hear that sound more. Every day, if you could.

“That’s good. I realized in retrospect how it all sounds when I was talking to you.” He reached up and laced his fingers through yours, stilling your hand against his chest. “It doesn’t scare you?”

You looked down at his visor and smiled. “I was already worrying about you, but I know you’re capable. I could tell from your stories. If anything, it’s reassuring — you must be good at it, to be doing it this long.” You sighed. “But I probably will still worry, yes.”

Din hummed and you felt certain he was looking at you, too, even though you couldn’t tell through the dark glass. “Cara offered me more work around here. I think I’ll take her up on it. I’ll still go off planet sometimes, but not as much.”

“Well,” you said, smiling, “I won’t pretend I don’t like the sound of that. But you don’t have to do that just because we’re, um…” you trailed off as you realized you didn’t exactly know what you were. 

“Relaxing together?” He teased, and you laughed. “It would be better for Grogu, that’s important. But I do want to be here more so I can see you more. Not only send messages.” He squeezed your hand. “I like you.”

You felt something warm settle inside you at his words and you were certain it showed on your face. “I like you too, Din.”

You told him more stories about the kids’ antics during the week, but you realized as you finished a story about Kiran trying to adopt a lizard from the lava flats as the class pet — and Grogu wanting to eat it, instead — that Din had fallen asleep. 

You smiled and curled your body more around his helmet and the pillow in your lap. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with you filled you with warmth. You took the opportunity to study this man who had somehow swept you off your feet through pad messages. Even without seeing his face, you could tell he was attractive – his body was toned and strong, but not thin. You could tell he was used to very physical work. You traced his shoulders and arms and chest with your eyes and bit your lip – he was much more exposed like this, without armor. You could see the outline of his body and it made you press your thighs together under the pillow. 

Get it together, you told yourself sternly. We are relaxing, not ogling. 

He stirred, suddenly, and you couldn’t help but soothe him. “Shhh, go back to sleep,” you murmured. “Relax.” He seemed to settle again at the sound of your voice, so you kept talking. “I’m really glad you feel comfortable here, Din. With me.” You hummed along to the music softly for a moment. “You really are very handsome. I can tell. And kriff, these shoulders. And your hands.” You laughed softly at yourself. “I already liked you, you know? Without seeing you. But now…” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by what you were admitting even though he was asleep.

At least, you thought he was asleep.

He startled you by responding, suddenly, and tightened his hold on your hand on his chest to keep you from pulling away. “Now?” he asked, voice scratchy and deep. “Now what, cyar’ika?”

You felt your face heat up. “How much of that did you hear?”

Din hummed and settled more into the couch. “Something about my shoulders.”

“Kriff,” you said, laughing. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He shook his head. “No, I liked it.” He squeezed your hand. “What were you going to say? But now…” he prompted you, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Now I like you and I can’t stop looking at you, I guess.”

He looked at you for a moment, helmet tilted back. Then he started to sit up. You made a noise in complaint but he settled in much closer to you than before with his arm over the back of the couch. You were touching from shoulder to knee. Your breath caught. 

“Is that really what you were going to say, mesh’la?” He leaned in towards you and pressed his helmet to your forehead again. 

You shivered. “Din—“ you started, not sure what you were going to say. 

“Tell me,” he urged you softly. He dropped his arm over your shoulders and suddenly you were totally wrapped up in his warmth. 

“I already liked you,” you repeated, leaning into his embrace. “And I already wanted you. Before I’d even seen you.” You stumbled over your words but felt a surge of confidence when you felt him draw in a sharp breath. “And now I can’t stop looking at you. Because you already had me with your flirting.” You reached out and placed your hand on his thigh and squeezed, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “But Din, I am so turned on. I know we just met, officially, but—“

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around your waist. “I’ve been hard since you told me to lie down in your lap.”

Your gaze shot down to his pants, but you couldn’t see any proof. 

“These pants don’t show it. But believe me,” he lifted your hand from his thigh and placed it over his hard length. Your eyes widened. “I want you. Badly.”

“Din,” you breathed. You looked back up at him and squeezed his cock, and watched a shiver travel across his shoulders. 

“How dark is your bedroom?” He asked suddenly. 

“Very,” you said, a bit confused. “I have those curtains that block out the light, helps me sleep.”

“Perfect,” he replied, and tugged you up off the couch. “Come here, mesh’la.” He grabbed something from the pile of his things on the coffee table and led you towards your bedroom after you pointed it out.

Once inside, he moved towards the windows and closed the curtains. The room immediately darkened. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking around the room, and nodded.

“Good,” he said, and you stepped closer.

“Good for what?” 

Din held up his hand and you realized he was holding a length of black cloth. “It’s dark enough in here. But just to be sure… if you, would you wear this?” 

Suddenly you realized the reason why he was doing all of this and your entire body lit up in response. “Your helmet?” you asked, eyes wide.

He nodded. “Will you?” He held what you recognized as a blindfold towards you, and you nodded before he’d even finished speaking.

“Of course,” you said, stepping closer. “Din, I promise, I won’t look. But yes, I’ll wear it.”

You saw some of the tension fade from his shoulders and smiled. He took you gently by the shoulders and turned you around. “Thank you,” he murmured as he lifted the blindfold into place. He tied it tightly, but not too tight. “How’s that?” You felt air on your face and wondered if he was waving his hand in front of your eyes.

“I can’t see anything,” you confirmed. You reached back, trying to find him, and he caught your hand. “I promise.”

He turned you back around slowly and suddenly you were pressed up against his chest with his hand on your back. “I believe you. I trust you.”

You thought of the way he had fallen asleep so easily in your presence and smiled. “What now, Din?”

You heard a hissing noise and then a large thump and realized he must have removed his helmet. The sound of his voice confirmed it. “Now, cyar’ika,” he said, and you shivered when you felt his breath on your face, “I’m going to kiss you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, yes, and maybe please, but you never got the words out. His lips met yours and every other thought flew out of your head. You could tell he was somewhat new to this – that wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d told you about his helmet – but he learned quickly and you barely noticed any awkwardness. You lost yourself in his kiss, in his arms, in the darkness of your blindfold. 

When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, you moaned, and his answering moan made you feel lightheaded. He broke away suddenly to press kisses down your neck and you sighed. “Din,” you said, and realized your hands were tangled in his hair. His hair. “That feels so good.”

“Does it?” He murmured, and you could hear his smirk. “Tell me, cyar’ika.”

You pushed yourself closer until you were pressed fully against him. “Yes, Din. Can we– can you–” you weren’t sure what you were asking, and he interrupted you with a nibble at your neck.

“We can do whatever you want,” he promised, voice low. “What do you want, mesh’la?”

That word, the new one, finally snagged at your attention. “What’s that mean?”

He lifted his head and pressed his smile to your cheek. It made you smile back. “That’s what you want? To know that?”

You nodded. “Please. And then I want you to make me come.”

Din growled and tugged you in the direction you were pretty sure led to your bed. “Beautiful,” he said, voice intent. “It means beautiful. Because you are.” He tugged you downwards and you realized he was sitting on the bed. You settled into position straddling his lap and ground your hips down. His answering moan was very gratifying. “Let me make you feel good.”

He had one arm around your back, and you felt his other hand trail along the waistband of your pants. You tilted your hips forward to encourage him. He undid them deftly and you sighed when his large fingers slid inside your underwear.

He teased you, and you knew he could feel how wet you were without even pressing inside.

“Did I turn you on, cyar’ika?” He pressed his lips to your ear and you shivered at how deep his voice was. “Is this for me?”

“Yes, Din,” you said, and before you could say anything else his fingers parted your folds and slipped inside. 

“So wet,” he said, voice awed. “And all for me, hmm?” His fingers found your clit and circled it and you gasped. He swallowed it with a kiss. 

You broke away on a gasp when he replaced his fingers with his thumb and trailed through your wetness to circle your entrance with his fingertips. “Din,” you said, pleading.

“Is this what you want, mesh’la?” You nodded and he nipped at your neck below your ear. “I thought about this,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he slid his fingers inside you. “Thought about this when you talked to me, when I pictured you covered in more paint than clothes.” He curled his fingers forward and you moaned. “Thought about this when you made me smile, when you said you think about me.”

“I do, Din,” you said, voice unsteady. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ground down on his fingers. “I thought about this, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and you nodded against his neck. “My fingers?”

“Yes,” you said, building up a rhythm with your hips. “And your cock. And your tongue.”

Din let out a noise you could only classify as a whine and it sent sparks shooting up your spine. “You want that? My mouth on you?” You nodded, almost frantically, and he shuddered. “I want that too. You have no idea how much.”

You could feel it building inside of you and you buried your face in his shoulder. You marveled at feeling so much of his skin as you did. 

“I think you’re close, cyar’ika,” he murmured between kisses on your neck. “You’re squeezing me.” His thumb started to move faster and you knew you were about to fall over the edge. “Come for me, beautiful. I want to feel it.”

You did, with his fingers thrusting in and out of you and his arm holding you tight in his lap. You cried out his name as you fell and shuddered at the sparks flying through your body. The pleasure washed over you like a wave, head to toe.

When you came back to yourself, you were on your back on the mattress with Din’s body pressing you down. 

“You with me?” he asked, and you nodded. “Good. Cyar’ika, I want to fuck you.”

Your head swam at his words, and you nodded again.

“Let me hear your voice,” he murmured, and kissed you. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me, Din,” you said, and felt it when he smiled into a kiss. “I’ve wanted it, badly.”

“Me too,” he promised, and lifted off of you to remove his flight suit. When he pressed back down and you felt his skin on yours your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Dank farrik,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re so soft.” He rubbed his body against yours and you gasped at the sensations he sent through you. His hard cock was trapped between your stomachs and you lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around him, trying to change the angle. 

Din tilted his hips and suddenly his cock was nestled against you, and you gasped. “You feel so kriffing good,” he moaned, and you nodded.

“You too, Din,” you cut off on a gasp when the head of his cock nudged your clit. “Please fuck me.” 

Din huffed a laugh, and murmured, “so polite.”

You smacked him lightly on his very shapely ass, and then paused to fondle it. He laughed again and you grinned into his neck. “Is there something wrong with polite?”

Din nudged at your cheek until you turned into a searing kiss. “No,” he finally replied, lifting his hips and reaching down to move his cock right where you wanted it. “Just makes me want to give you what you want. Even more.” The head of his cock pressed against your entrance and you sighed. “I’ve thought about this so many times, almost since the beginning.” He started pushing inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. You were panting. He was big. “And then I saw you, and you were flirting with me, and I couldn’t,” he pulled out slightly and thrust forward again, “stop,” he did it again, farther in this time, “thinking about it.” He pushed steadily forward until his hips met yours and you both moaned.

“Me neither,” you said, turning your head and nipping at his ear. He moaned again. “So much, Din.” He shuddered as he pulled out and thrust forward again, and you lifted your hips to meet him.

He found a steady rhythm that sent sparks up and down your spine, building you up and sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your mind was spinning with pleasure and a bit of awe that you were finally there, that Din was inside you, like you’d been hoping for. Like you’d been craving.

Din leaned his weight onto his left arm and snaked his right hand between your bodies until he found your clit. When he circled it with his finger you almost sobbed.

“I want to feel you come again, mesh’la.” Din’s voice was rough with his own pleasure and it made yours shoot higher. “Squeeze me tight. Dank farrik.” His chest heaved when you did as he asked and squeezed. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”

He thrust forward again and circled your clit just right and you fell off the edge again, but this time it felt like you were flying. You spiraled upwards on the wave of pleasure and when it crashed down again it flowed over your entire body, leaving tingles in its wake.

You squeezed his cock and he moaned into your ear. “You feel so good when you come, kriff, your pussy feels so good.” His hips thrust forward again, losing their rhythm, and you knew he was close. You tugged at his hair until your mouth hovered over his.

“Din,” you said, and kissed him. “Come inside me.”

He moaned and he did, thrusting twice more before stilling and moaning your name. When he collapsed on top of you you wrapped your arms and legs around him and sighed.

“Kark,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your neck and throat. “That was so good.”

You laughed, and gasped when he laughed too and you felt it against your chest. “It was, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “You know, I like this relaxation thing.” You laughed and squeezed him. He grunted. “I have another confession.”

“Uh oh,” you teased. “Is this the last one?”

Din pushed himself up until he was leaning on his left arm again and kissed you softly. “I promise. After this it’s just getting to know each other more.” He kissed you again. “But I need to tell you. I didn’t just run because you’re beautiful.” another kiss. “Even though you are and that was part of it.” A longer kiss this time followed by a nip to your bottom lip. You smiled. “But I also saw you, and all of these feelings I’d been putting off and denying came rushing up and I couldn’t deny them anymore. I think I was afraid, since we’d never met, never seen each other.”

You nodded. You knew that feeling.

“It was all real, suddenly, and I wasn’t ready for that.” He nudged at your nose with his and hummed.

You kissed him. “But you’re ready now?”

“I am,” he said, voice firm and warm. “I want you. I want this. I want to figure it out.”

You grinned. “Me too, Din.”

“Good.”

…

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this fluff. lol

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[autisticandroids]

quick guide on backing up your tumblr from someone who has tried it various ways over the years

so, you noticed that tumblr is so understaffed that they didn't even do april fools this year and you're thinking of backing up your tumblr. maybe even using tumblr's built-in export function.

there are plenty of third party apps that will scrape your blog and grab all the posts. tumblr-utils is one that i have used historically to great effect. another option here. or find your own.

however, if you want to save your dms and asks, you need to use tumblr's export function.

first go to your blog settings and click export blog. you'll get an email when it finishes exporting. this may take a couple days.

now, my blog's file was about 400GB. that's almost half a terabyte. it's a lot of data. there's no way to shrink it or only download parts. it also will not tell you how big the file is going to be. my blog has ~250k posts and another 5k unanswered asks. and yours will probably scale with that.

(this is a good reason to use third party scrapers instead, by the by. tumblr-utils at least allows you to 1) download only your own original posts and not reblogs, 2) download only text and not media, and 3) download in batches not all at once. you're not forced to take the whole thing, which is a lot of data. the html result from tumblr utils is also more usable than the one from tumblr as well).

anyway. the first thing you'll want to do is make sure you choose what folder something downloads to. you do NOT want half a terabyte in your downloads folder. you want it going straight to an external drive. you can set firefox to open a little "save as" dialogue box everytime you download something, which honestly i would recommend doing anyway. or you can use a download manager like jdownloader, which will also help in other ways. though personally i found that jdownloader seemed to choke on the fact that tumblr doesn't tell you the size of the download, and that meant i couldn't interrupt the download or jdownloader would assume it was done.

second is just. make sure your external drive is big enough. i ended up literally bailing out files onto other random thumb drives because i only had about 250GB free on my external drive when i started downloading.

third. turn off your computer's ability to sleep. if you've got a pc that should be in the control panel under power settings. it should say power plan. my blog took about 15 hours to download. i had to just let my computer sit there downloading, and my computer needed to not go to sleep.

fourth, i would recommend using an ethernet cable if you have one. that will make it go faster.

you should get a file. though my computer literally choked on mine and i had to open it with 7zip because the zip file didn't quite work.

honestly if you're willing to spend an unreasonable amount of time and storage space on this i would recommend grabbing the tumblr native backup and then also using tumblr utils and scarping the text, then using the tumblr utils version of the text. my suspicion is that you can just grab the media folder from the tumblr export download and dump it into the tumblr utils folder and you'll be good. tumblr utils handles the text posts way better and more accessibly.

another space saving option is to just literally delete the media folder. or to delete the media in the folder that's not labeled "conversations," since the stuff labeled "conversations" is media that was sent in your dms and you may want to save that.

tumblr export WILL give you all you dms (including with deactivated users and users you have blocked and who have blocked you) and it will also give you unanswered asks (again including from deactivated users etc). probably also submissions and possibly also old fanmail, i haven't checked. i have not figured out yet whether you get your draft posts. if you do they're not in their own folder they're just mixed in with the rest.

the html formatting, however, is dogshit. even of the dms. the dm conversations are literally presented backwards.

[imaroyalmess]

Megop/Dpax Love Square AU

part 1? this has been lurking as an outline but i'm just going to post it as is to get it out of my brain 😭

Rated: M (sexual themes/talk)

Wc: 1.6k

D-16 is a big Prime fan boy who works all day and reads poetry in the archives during his free time

In this AU, the OG 13 are alive and well. Recently, they took on another Prime but after Sentinel tried to kill them a while ago, they are very secretive about who this mech is. Think: overprotective older sibling vibes.

Dee’s favorite is still Megatronus. His coworkers kind of mock him for it so he tries to keep it on the down low

So it was a particularly shitty day at work or something but D-16 is already in a horrible mood when he arrives at the archives. but when he gets to a datapad and that mech hasn't wiped the annotations? He snaps.

Not expecting ANYTHING to come of it, he leaves a "stop vandalizing the archives" in the notes below it and shoves it back on the shelf

Jazz comms him and offers to help him cool off, he agrees to go out to a bar(? Or something like it) with Jazz

He gets there. and GREAT that fucker Orion Pax is there. (He’s always there since they run in the same friend circle)

but d-16 is like “Whatever i've had a bad day, I'm trying to unwind, I'll just ignore him”

Unfortunately for him, Orion Pax has a massive crush on him that literally everyone knows about. D-16 kind of knows too, except he doesn’t get it. As in, Orion has the Big Crush and Dee is like "I think he might want me.” He figures that one day, they’ll sleep together, it’ll be mediocre, then Orion will find someone else to flirt with and they can continue being awkward acquaintances. OP is planning the wedding in his free time

Orion keeps trying to hit on Dee and Dee shrugs him off. He doesn’t mind the flirting, he just is not in any kind of mood for it.

Jazz: Dee, I did Not want to be the one to tell you this but please you have to do something about Orion. He likes you

Dee: [brow raised] I know 

Jazz: Oh! ...oh, you're just mean

Dee: It's not that serious.

Jazz: Ah, never mind…so you're stupid—

Flash forward a few days later: Dee realizes he didn't even read the datapad he meant to. So now he has to go back to the archives and get it. And also wipe the annotations he left.

What he doesn’t expect though, is for there to be a response in the datapad. “woops! i realized i hadn’t wiped my notes from the data pad. if you’re seeing this, it should be good to check out now (except this thread ha ha), sorry! A little hypocritical though, don’t you think? Since you also left something in the datapad?”

D-16 doesn’t plan to respond to that. He really doesn’t. But then when he goes to wipe the data, he sees that the original note cross referenced another collection d-16 had been meaning to read and he finds himself searching for the data pad

He finds it, opens it up, sure enough, this one is also still has some annotations in it

D-16 goes back to the OG and responds “you missed some in The Primacy and Caste Systems. Do you treat all your datapads like this?”

Then reads this other data pad. Might as well, since he’s been meaning to anyway

He’s loathe to admit it, but he finds this other mech’s commentary….fascinating

It ranges from “come back to this later” to intense grappling with philosophy to “can you PLEASE shut up already”

Dee finds himself responding to one about how dense the prose is. He can’t help it. And that’s how this Thing starts between these two strangers.

a part of him still Doesn’t Like It because it feels…Forbidden. against some rules (it’s not really but the courtesy!!!) and any time they’re done with one book, he wipes it but not before saving the most interesting bits of their conversations

It's nice. It's fun. D-16 feels like he's sharing a very important part of himself that doesn't quite get the limelight

And his conversation partner....well, he doesn't always get it but they read what D-16 has to say. They follow him from data pad to data pad and value his opinion that isn't tied to what he’s capable of at work.

It’s something special to him. Most of the people he knows are because of his job and to have someone so far removed from that that they don’t even know his designation? He likes it

So he doesn’t tell anyone. Not even Jazz

One day, Dee runs into Orion on his way to the archives.

Dee: what are you doing here?

Orion: ...i work here?

Dee: what? i've never once seen you here, pax.

Orion: aha. it's a, uh. part time gig?

Dee: o...kay

Orion: so are you heading in or?

Dee: yeah, i just had a collection i wanted to grab

Orion: are you busy after?

Dee: Yes.

Orion: Oh. With what?

Dee: reading. that's what i'm here for, pax

Orion: right. but would you want to refuel together or something?

Dee: are you asking me out, pax?

Orion: to refuel, yes.

Dee: ...okay.

So these fuckin sillies go out to dinner

D-16 is like....this is Weird. He's used to interacting with Orion in a group setting. Small group, yes, but Dee is usually the one to kinda slide into the background and let Jazz and Orion and others take the forefront.

It's awkward. at first especially. Orion, who usually cannot shut up, is sitting there. Servos clasped hard and optics right on D-16. It's weird. The staring is unnerving and D-16 is not the one to ask to carry a conversation.

Orion: so, you like reading?

Dee: yes.

Orion: what do you read?

Dee: poetry, mostly. i don't mind philosophy or fiction either.

Orion: oh! i've been reading a bit of poetry lately. i tend to stick to history, politics, and philosophy though.

Dee: really?

Orion: yes? is that surprising?

Dee: very.

Orion: why?

Dee: because you're...you come up with such stupid plans.

Orion: i don't think any of my plans are really stupid. i rely on everything having the best outcome, more than anything.

Dee: which is a stupid thing to do, pax. most things don't work out like that.

Orion: yeah but can't hurt hoping right?

Dee: i can name at least three instances where it did hurt actually

Orion: ....this isn't really going well is it?

Dee: [standing up] no not really but how about we stop talking? 

Orion: yeahhhh okay i get it.

Dee: not sure you do. are you coming back to my habsuite with me?

Orion: but you said...?

Dee: we will not be talking in my habsuite, no.

Orion: oh! oh, yeah, then. lead the way

Orion has never stood up so quickly in his whole existence

The walk doesn’t take long thankfully.

D-16 shuts the door to his habsuite and Orion's little switch Flips. Like he realizes he has to lock the fuck in or this won't happen ever again.

So Orion crowds d-16 against the door, one servo on his waist and the other at his throat cables. Dee is startled by the change up but not quite bothered by it. he'd assumed that he would have to take charge of a nervous bumbling Orion so this was a pleasant surprise of sorts. "How do you want me?" Orion whispers, leaning in so his dermas brush a seam on D-16's shoulder. "I could take you right here if you want it quick. With my intake or with my digits, whichever you prefer." He punctuates this point by flicking his glossa out, dipping into the seam while D-16 jerks at the sensation. "Or we could take our time and you can have them both. Then my valve. Tell me what you want from me, I'll let you have it."

And yeah, d-16 wasn't quite as prepared for Orion Pax as he thought. His core heats at a rapid pace as all sorts of situations race through his processor. The possibilities and Orion, willing to fulfill them...and since this would be the only time, D-16 figured he could go for it.

He reaches up with one servo and grabs Orion by the back of the helm, dragging him up so their optics lock. "All of it," D-16 says with no small amount of greed. Orion tilts his helm as he observes where his thumb presses into D-16's neck. Both of their cooling fans kick on and Orion grins. He says, "You'll be covered in my colors by the time I'm done with you." Then D-16 pushes him to his knees and Orion takes the hint and gets to work.

Interfacing with Orion was a mistake. Because Dee was wrong and it was good and he knows they are definitely going to do this again. 

So D-16 resigns himself to his fate as fuck buddy of Orion Pax. (Dee still isn’t aware that Orion’s feelings are more than just “blowing off charge”—and Orion doesn’t correct him)

At the same time Dee and Orion start sleeping together, things start ramping up with his little archive buddy. Having multiple conversations within a single book

Some of which have NOTHING to do with the book itself. Sometimes even visiting the archive two or three times in a day to see if the other had replied.

Things are going great! Even if he’s developing a little crush on this mech that lives in book annotations. Between that and his thing with Orion, he has two outlets to vent any frustrations from his day (via some great overloads) or any emotions he might not normally get to express (via baring his spark into the comments on a public data pad).

It’s. Nice. Great, even.

What he doesn’t know is that both of those outlets are Optimus Prime.

Similarly, OP doesn’t know that his crush/acquaintance with benefits and his new archive friend, are one and the same.

OKAY i have more but i'm going to leave it here for now lol we'll see when i post a part two!

feel free to ask me more about it in the mean time tho!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Magic Touch

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 12: Anonymous Sex

Summary: Kane's an interesting patient.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating. I've gone off topic really because I found it difficult and this is where the story seemed to want to go.

Warnings: hospitals, reader works in the medical profession, kissing, I'm gonna say a bit of dubious content (but everyone's into it, it's just the set up is a bit hmm), biting, touching, Kane making people come with just a touch, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2065

Kane’s reactions to you after his ‘rescue’ were… interesting. 

You were part of the medical team that had helped to keep him alive, spending your spare time while he laid comatose running blood work for the constant tests that were demanded by strict looking army officials. You never got to see the data. The whole team was just being used for the grunt work while faceless others got to assess and ponder over the results. 

You’d managed to figure out some things though, despite all the cloak and dagger. Often sharing knowing looks with your colleagues when new tests were ordered by your shadowy bosses. 

Things started to get strange, or stranger, when he woke up. 

Psychiatrist tests that you weren’t a part of. Constant interviews with high ranking members from all different government agencies. Throughout it all you were told Kane remained neutral, emotionless. Watching the people speaking to him like a spider would approach an insect. A cold glint in his eyes. 

It was obvious that he had come back different. Changed. Someone else. 

You didn’t really notice at first, the looks he gave you. Sure, you were there to do a job, but you also remembered to have some bedside manner. 

You’d chat with him a little, or more accurately, at him while you took blood and vitals. And he would watch you, listen, nod, say the occasional word here and there.

Honestly, other than his quiet disposition, you hadn’t thought anything was that strange. You’d seen weirder just working at A&E on a Saturday night. 

And there was something kind of nice about it, about how he would listen. As if every word that came out of your mouth was important. 

It wasn’t until you were called into a sudden meeting with your team’s supervisor’s supervisor’s supervisor that things were put into a bit of perspective. 

The man, ‘Karl’ he had said his name was, but you were sure that was as fake as the smile he had given you when you’d knocked and entered his office. His fingers had been cold when he shook your hand, his grip a little too hard to be friendly. 

‘Karl’ had made idle chit chat with you for a few minutes while your own anxieties grew like parasites in your stomach before he finally got to the point. 

“You tend to interact with Kane every shift, is that correct?” 

You’d nodded. “Yes, pretty much. I’d have to check the logs to be sure though.”

He’d hardly let you finish before he was speaking again, obviously already knowing your answer before you had even spoken. “Yes, we’ve noticed some… abnormalities from the recordings.”

“Wait,” you’d cut in. You knew about the constant surveillance, that wasn’t so much of an issue, but you assumed there was some kind of accusation of malpractice. “Everything I’ve done has been following guidelines to the letter, the wellbeing of the patient is my top priority, if you’re implying that-”

“No, no, no,” ‘Karl’ had held up his hands, another fake smile on his face. “Not those kind of abnormalities, nothing like that at all. I do apologise, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything of the sort.” He’d paused, breathing in and seemingly revelling in the moment of anticipation as you waited for his next words. 

“The abnormality is Kane’s reaction and interactions with you.” 

“What?” 

“He seems to… converse with you. Talk.”

You’d frowned. “A little.”

“A lot.” He’d put his hands together on the desk. “A lot more than he talks with anyone else. We have a proposition for you.”

You said nothing. 

“Have a conversation with him, 45 minutes, it’ll be monitored obviously. Whatever happens… happens. If he doesn’t talk to you, that’s fine.” 

“What do you want me to talk to him about?” 

“Doesn’t matter, anything you want.” He’d smiled. “You’ll be well compensated financially, of course.” 

You’d said yes when you’d seen the actual figure, you would be a fool not to. Though, there just had to be a catch, didn’t there? That kind of money to just talk for 45 minutes? Not even to ask any questions? 

. 

The room several guards led you to the following day was surprisingly nice. Carpeted, painted in a soft grey with plush sofas. 

Kane was already in there when they’d let you in, locking the room behind you and not even setting foot inside. Like they were pushing you into the lion’s den. 

He was sitting on one of the sofas, facing away from the door. He looked around straight away when you entered and gave you a small upwards twitch of his lips when he saw it was you. An expression that would have been cold and detached on anyone else, but you had become used to Kane over the past weeks. That small movement was a warm greeting.

“Hello Kane.” You say as you sit opposite him. 

“Good morning.” 

You shift a little to get comfortable. “You okay?” 

He nods once, “very well.” This was the same reply he would give you anytime you asked. 

For a moment you look around the room, trying to see if you could spot where the cameras were. You couldn’t. 

“It’s nice to see you.” He says flatly, but you smile.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

“I usually spend my time in here with other individuals.” 

You pause, trying to read anything on his stoic face. “Others?” 

“I often have meetings in here.” 

You nod, waiting to see if he’ll continue. He doesn’t. “You… like the meetings?” 

He takes a moment to answer, seemingly staring straight into your soul. “I feel indifferent towards them.” 

You smile. “That boring?” 

Kane cocks his head to the side, but says nothing. 

“Do they give you anything to do, anything fun to amuse yourself I mean?”

He continues to look at you for a moment. 

“Books, tv, games?” You shrug a little as you speak, “art supplies?” Surely the higher ups didn’t just leave him with no mental stimulation. 

“Something ‘fun’?” He repeats in the same tone and you nod.

“Yeah, like a hobby?” 

“Talking to you is ‘fun’.” He says plainly.

You can’t help the little smile that pulls at your lips. “Yeah?” 

He nods, and shifts a little in his seat. His hands pressed neatly together on his lap. “Being around you is ‘fun’ also.” You’re so used to his calm, even voice but you don’t pick up on the slight change in cadence to his tone.

Your smile widens a little, “that’s nice to hear.” 

He watches you, fixated, his line of sight seemingly glued in place as you glance around again. Once more trying to pinpoint the cameras. It made no sense for them to be concealed surely?

“They removed them.” He says plainly. 

You frown, quickly turning back to him. “I’m sorry?” 

“The cameras. That’s what you’re looking for, right?” It was a statement, not a question. “They’ve been removed.” 

“What?” Your frown deepens. You’re sure Kane’s not lying to you, part of you isn’t sure if he actually could. “Why? Karl said that-”

“He told you this would be monitored.” Kane nods simply. “I asked for them to be removed.”

“Why?” 

“I assumed it would be… uncomfortable for you.” 

There’s an icy touch on the back of your neck, a shiver at his words. Some deep down basic sense of self preservation being activated. “What?” 

“People grow uncomfortable under surveillance, they react differently.” 

“Well… sure. I mean, you’re not wrong, it’s just…”

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly. “It’s just?” 

“I thought the whole point of us talking was for them to, you know, monitor.” You shrug, not sure how else to phrase it. 

Kane nods, not in agreement, but simply to show that he heard you.

There’s a pause as he seems to be thinking over your words carefully, choosing the right response with a level of precision. 

Instead he stands and sits down next to you, his leg resting against yours. You frown a little, swallowing and taking a breath to question him as you shift to the side to put a sliver of space between you. 

His hand on your cheek makes you pause, freeze as your words catch in your throat. His fingers are warm and gentle as he tilts your head up and towards him, his pressure light as if he was worried he could tear through you like spider silk. 

For a moment he just looks at you, observing your features as if he could decipher some lost hidden knowledge. 

He leans closer and you know what he’s going to do before he does it. You’re not stupid. But for some reason you can’t get your body to move, to raise a hand, to shift backwards. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s sweet, gentle. The kind of soft first kisses that only exist in teenage romcoms. 

Your senses finally snap back into your mind and you pull back, breaking the kiss. “Kane, wha-”

He moves forward, his eyes seemingly expressionless as he kisses you again. His grip on your cheek tightens, halting your effort to pull away for a second time. 

The strength of his grip surprises you, the way his fingers slide around to squeeze at the back of your neck. You can’t do this, can’t let him do this. This is breaking every patient doctor code in the book. Not to mention that the room still could be monitored, you’d lose your job. And probably worse. 

You try again to move away, to break the kiss, but his hand tightens. The strong muscles of his arms contracting as he keeps you in place. 

Frustration bubbles under your skin, covering the deep down urge to just relax into the embrace, and you do the first thing that pops into your head. You bite his lip. Hard. 

He groans. 

“Again.” He mutters, his voice thick. He rubs the bridge of his nose against yours, practically vibrating as he leans close for another kiss. He moves closer, pressing his chest to yours and lightly pushing you back against the sofa.

“Kane, I…” You swallow, trying so hard not to get caught up in the feel of him, the intoxicating lidded look to his eyes, how his body feels against yours. “I hardly know you, I don’t know you.

“You do. You did.” He says simply.

You practically do a double take. “What?” 

Kane doesn’t answer, leaning down and mouthing at your neck, licking and sucking until you shiver and a small pant escapes your lips. 

He slips his hand under your clothes, ghosting his fingers along your skin. 

You jump, “Kane…” You wish you didn’t sound so needy, so breathless. 

“Hmm?” He hums against your neck and drags his hand down, sinking under your waistband. 

You pull lightly on his hair, getting enough space between you and him so that you can press your lips to his. 

He groans, kisses you back with a deep hunger that leaves you breathless. He licks into your mouth, rolling and teasing your tongue with his own until you're whining and bucking up against him. 

A damp patch is starting to form in your underwear, and when he lightly touches your clit over your panties you gasp, your back arching. 

You expect him to stroke, to move his fingers. But instead, he presses the very tip of his forefinger flat against your bundle of nerves, firm but gentle. 

And suddenly your world falls apart. 

You tense, moaning and panting as you come suddenly, pleasure exploding behind your eyes and robbing you of thought as you convulse in his arms. Your body pulses, sings and you can’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life. 

He moves his hand a fraction as you come down, taking his lips from yours and smiling ever so slightly as you breathe hard. Sweat beading on your forehead as aftershocks run through your nerves.

“What was that?” You pant. 

“An orgasm.” He smiles a little bashfully.

For a second you think he’s being serious, but you tut and giggle when you see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Let me show you again.” He mutters, leaning closer once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his fingers under your underwear this time.

Thank you for reading!

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[reiderwriter]

do you think you could write where reader is a part of the BAU and gets kidnapped/ hurt by an unsub and spencer saves her? much love and i love your fics!

Hi! Thanks so much for your request. I'll admit this took a bit more brain power than usual 💀 may have gotten slightly carried away creating an unsub lmao

Summary: You go undercover for a case and Reid keeps you company through online messages, only to feel absolutely worthless when you go missing.

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kidnapping and abuse of Y/N, Reid self-deprecating again but it has a happy fluffy ending so a win.

My Requests are Open! Send me an ask if you want me to write something~ 💕 And check out My Masterlist!

“Y/N, what do you think? I’m not going to send you in if you’re not confident you can complete the mission.'' Your Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, was briefing you on the plan. Luckily for the team, or rather, unluckily for you, you fit the victim profile of your latest case, and with an absence of leads, your last chance to get him before he took another victim was an undercover mission. 

“I can do it, but can we establish a background in enough time? He’s devolving and he’s going to need to pick up another victim pretty soon.” 

You’d been called in to consult on the case two weeks prior. Local women who lived alone in the metropolitan area had been going missing on a weekly basis for the last three months, and the BAU team had been called in when they’d finally found the dump site of the first three victims. 

You’d so far managed to figure out how he was finding his victims from their home computers - a site for young women to look for sugar daddies. You’d previously profiled him as a man in his mid-40s who was going through a personal loss and was lashing out at women who represented someone specific to him, and after searching through the dating profiles, you were pretty sure his stressor was a recent or impending divorce. 

But try as Garcia might, these dating websites had a whole lot more encoded data than was expected, and after the Ashley Madison scandal of the previous decade, they’d taken to deleting the majority of their user data regularly so that certain accounts couldn’t be found. Which meant that you were left with a geographical profile you couldn’t pin down, a profile that could match half the men in the city, and a killer that was almost ready to strike again. 

“Garcia can get something ready for you in the next 8 hours, and we have some access to some FBI safehouses in the area that we can ready in at the same time. Go get yourself prepared for cover.”

And that’s how you found yourself living in a dingy studio apartment on the south side of the city for two days, waiting to report back about whatever men approached you. There wasn’t much for you to complain about, but you were getting pretty lonely. 

You’d greeted your new neighbors and made a show of attending some ‘new to the neighborhood’ events, making sure to get out and about to let the team assess if the unsub was stalking you. Other than that you’d spent the rest of your time in your apartment a constant tab open at the sugar baby website. A few men had been interested, and your computer was cloned and running simultaneously on Garcia’s system so the team could do their best to track suspicious accounts. 

The rest of your spare time was, surprisingly enough, spent messaging Spencer Reid. You’d been on the team now for three months, joining the team as a transfer from the blue collar division you’d worked in straight out of the academy. You had spent the same amount of time doing your best to gain confidence to work in the field. Sure, you’d trained for this, but theory and practice were so different and you really didn’t want to fuck up so early into your job.  

Which is why, you supposed, that Doctor Spencer Reid was so intimidating to you. Though he admittedly wasn’t the best at field work, noting the amount of exceptions the FBI had to make to allow him outside of the office at all on your first meeting, he was just so damned competent. With three PhD’s, three BA’s and a pending fourth on the way, he was the golden child of the BAU, and you found yourself desperate for his approval. It surely didn’t help that he was also your exact type to boot, and sometimes you found yourself conflicted if you wanted his approval because he was so good at his job or because he was go goddamn good-looking. 

With no way to know how the unsub was tracking his victims before he kidnapped them, your team theorized it was unsafe to have physical check-ins, opting instead to set up another account on the sugar baby website, that would be manned around the clock. And tech-averse Reid had volunteered to do the bulk of the manning, leaving you with all the time in the world to talk to him in your private chat room. 

sug4rbbY/N: Good evening, Doctor, got any interesting facts for me today? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Did you know that it is illegal to flirt in Haddon Township, New Jersey? Under the section “Peace and Good Order,” a person may be punished for approaching “any person of the opposite sex unknown to such person and by word, sign or gesture attempts to speak to or to become acquainted with such person against his will.”

sug4rbbY/N: Well, aren’t I glad that we do not live in New Jersey then. 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: There’s more where that came from if you’re ever interested. 

sug4rbbY/N: I’ll certainly keep that in mind. 

sug4rbbY/N: Any plans for the evening, doc? 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Just sitting here talking to you :) 

sug4rbbY/N: All by yourself? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Never feel like I’m alone when you’re online. 

sug4rbbY/N: Haha that’s sweet.

sug4rbbY/N: BRB, Doc, my doorbell’s ringing.  

You stood up from your desk, a glance at the mirror betraying your feelings, as your flush was prominent. You weren’t sure if it was the intimate nature of the messaging system, or just for the sake of your cover, but the flirty tone of your messages had certainly been leaving you wondering if there could be more to your relationship with your coworker in the future. 

You quickly walked over to the door, opening it wide and came face to face with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Miss Y/N Harper?” the man behind the bouquet used your cover name to address you, and you hesitated a little before nodding in the affirmative. “Can you sign here please? It’s standard procedure for deliveries like this.” 

“But I didn’t order any flowers…” you took the bouquet from the man and grabbed the pen in his hand ready to sign. 

“Oh yeah, our shop specialises in anonymous flowergrams. That bunch you’ve got in your hand has some aconite, some white lilies and jasmine flowers.” The delivery man explained, and something in your gut twisted as you listened to his words. 

“But aren’t lilies usually meant for funera-” you didn’t get to finish because he had pushed a wet rag to your face, and you had just enough time to shake some small petals off and push them far enough underneath a nearby shoe storage unit before you faded into unconsciousness, your last thought a prayer that your team would uncover your clue. 

–x– 

Needless to say, when you didn’t check back in a few minutes later, Spencer had alerted every cop in the vicinity of your new apartment that you were gone, and they discovered your apartment empty within ten minutes. 

“She was right there,” Spencer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She was talking to me and then she just got up and he took her.” 

“Reid, calm down, she can’t have been gone long, and we have security cameras all over the building. We’ll find her.” Morgan reassured the younger male while searching the entrance of your cover apartment for clues. 

“That’s easy for you to say, it isn’t your fault that she’d gone.”

“And it isn’t yours either, Reid. You did your job, but he wasn’t going to stop until he had her.” 

“I should’ve notified the standby officers as soon as she sent through that last message and what was I doing instead? Trying to figure out if she was flirting with me for real or not. I’m pathetic.”

“Reid, get your head back in the game. She’s gone and theres nothing you can do to change that now, but we need your head here or we’re not going to find her. Y/N’s an agent too, remember, she can hold her own. Now look and think.” 

“SSA Morgan, Doctor Reid, we may have something over here,” one of the local detectives called the two men over. They’d found the remnants of the petals you’d done your best to scatter, and even though the unsub had taken the bouquet with him, he hadn’t been as thorough as he should have been. 

“We didn’t set her up with any flowers when she started her cover, so these must have been bought in by the unsub. I’ll call Garcia, tell her to look for any flower shops within his comfort zone.” Morgan hit the number on his speedial, but before he could start, Reid cut him off.

“Wait, I think we can narrow the search a bit further. Those are Aconite petals, they’re not often stocked by local florists because they have a pretty sinister meaning. They’re usually used to express hatred for the receiver, and because of their poisonous properties most florists don't stock them for fear of doing harm and causing lawsuits. He must be specifically ordering them in to give to his victims. Garcia, can you crossreference the list of florists in the area and check to see how many of them have purchased this plant recently?” 

“Just the one. Sending you the address now. Go find our girl Doc.” 

–X– 

When you came to, in what you assumed to be a backroom of some kind of flower shop, you were bound at the ankles and wrists and there was a gag in your mouth. You struggled a bit against your bindings but it was no good, and you had to reassure yourself that you were going to be okay, doing your best to push down the tears and clear your head. 

You decided your best bet was to get to know your surroundings, check to see what was around you and what you could use to your advantage. There was a clock on the wall, and you realised that you’d only been gone half an hour. Reminding yourself that the unsub kept his victims for a minimum of two days did a lot to get your heartbeat back to a normal pace, but it spiked again as soon as you heard the door slam open and your captor walk in. 

“Stupid little bitch,” he slurred his words slightly and you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he moved closer to your space in the corner. You tried your best to scamper as far away from him as possible, but he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to his face. 

You winced at the pain and tried to squirm out of his hold. “Look at you all pathetic now, begging me to let you out. It’s not going to fucking happen, y'know. I’m going to be the last person you see, last person you hear,” he throws you against the wall, pinning you up with his hand on your arms as he sends a leering glance down your shirt and then gives you a disgusting grin. “Last person you touch.” 

Your bindings mean your movement is limited, but you still manage to bring both your legs up to knee him in the groin, effectively pushing him off you but landing hard on the ground yourself after you manage to do so. 

“Fucking whore,” he shouts at you standing up and dealing a sharp kick to your head that has your vision going white for a minute. “I’ll teach you to fucking mess with me again, you little bitch.” He makes to grab you again, but before he can you hear the blissful sounds of a door being kicked down and the shouts of the FBI to stand down. 

Two agents are on him in minutes and you finally allow yourself to let out a deep sob in relief, as a third, very recognisable agent, makes his way to your side. 

“Y/N, shhh baby, it’s okay. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” Reid whispers in your ear as he unties you as gently and carefully as he can. The moment your arms are free you leap into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your face deeply against his chest. He pulls away just enough to untie your legs, and then lets you burrow into him again. 

“I knew you’d find me. Knew you’d understand something from those fucking flowers.” You sob into his chest now, as he strokes your hair, just holding you like that on the floor until you’re ready to move. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sent someone to check sooner, and I should’ve never let you accept that stupid cover mission,this is my fault and I'm going to make it up to you. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever ag-” he begins rambling but you shut him up again, this time by firmly pressing your lips into his. 

“Before you say anything else, this is not transference and I’m not doing this because you saved me, we both know I would’ve done that eventually anyway,” you rest your forehead against his, and after he has time to process what has just happened, he’s wiping the tears away from your face, and gently holding it with both of his hands, leaning in to do it again, gently pressing his mouth against yours as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second. 

“Thank you, again. For finding me,” you whisper to him, the space between you so miniscule now that you barely had to move your lips to know that he understood you. 

“Thank you, for letting me find you.” He grinned at you and held you again, determined to never let you out of his arms ever again. 

[semischarmed]

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired. 

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.  

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen. 

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it. 

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1: 

<3

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short. 

 My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged. 

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day. 

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water. 

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this. 

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”  

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.” 

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol” 

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself. 

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”  

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text. 

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream. 

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment. 

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head. 

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done. 

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry. 

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”. 

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another. 

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny. 

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through. 

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front. 

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature. 

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”. 

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine. 

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click. 

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

[jjclopelover]

How he talks to/about her v.s. How he talks to/about him

I'm back with more analysis' about JJPope and why it's better than anything either of them had with Kie.

Today I'm talking about JJ and how he speaks of and to them and why the difference in how he does it speaks VOLUMES.

JJ talking about Kie (S1): "Of course, I'm hitting on her. She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick, slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I tried it. Have you?"

JJ talking about Pope(S2): "Ain't all that bad. Just look at the guy over there. He would do anything for us. That's a Pouge if I've ever seen one. Bone-deep. That's just one man's opinion, though."

THE DIFFERENCE.

JJ talking to/about Pope:

"For once in your life, trust someone else."

~~~

"You're the golden boy."

~~~

Topper: "Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay with ending up in federal prison."

JJ: "Uh, if it gets to that, yeah, I'll do it for Pope."

~~~

"I'm here for you, Pope. Welcome to my world, okay?"

~~~

JJ talking to/about Kie:

"And you--I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?"

~~~

"Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara."

~~~

"Hell of a job melting it down, Dr.Frankenstein."

~~~

(I don't need to put anymore as all of JJ's quotes for Kie are from the first half of S1 lol.)

As you can see, JJ speaks highly of Pope and lowly of Kie. He sees being a pouge as a badge of honor and gave Pope the highest honor. He sees Pope as someone he can relate too and shares a deep connection too.

He doesn't see that with Kie.

And I hear Jiara stans saying "What about S3? He was so worried about her and went back to get her!"

And to that, I say, "Yeah...cuz it's JJ."

His number one trait as a character is his loyalty. It's his best trait as it shows how much he will do for his friends. But also his worst trait as he puts his friends over his own being and in the end it only hurts him.

JJ would have reacted the same if it was anyone else in that situation.

Like when John B was a wanted criminal, JJ did anything for him. (risking to get arrested himself, shooting cops, and being by his side when he was on the run)

Or when Sarah is dealing with Ward or Rafe, JJ is always watching over her. (running after a car that held a drugged Sarah unconscious in the back, jumping in a shipping crate to get her and the cross back, staying by her side, and keeping an eye on her when John B was found guilty in court.)

And even Cleo who just joined the crew, JJ makes sure to treat her like the rest of the pouges. (like when he praised her for convincing Pope's parents to let him go to South America)

And we all know that he would do the same if not more for Pope. (going to jail for him, almost getting arrested for him again, taking over an entire boat of men to get his cross plus Sarah, risking being seen with him at Midsummers when he was supposed to be undercover, taking a beating from his dad for him, fighting for him at the outdoor movie, being super protective about him anytime he was around Limbrey and Renfield, keeping the secret that Pope was the one who actually sunk the boat and lying to the others, bringing Pope to his cousin Ricky's house to save his life even tho Ricky was still pissed at him for stealing his ambulance.)

And many, MANY, more.

The way we are introduced to JJ who loves and protects Pope but pushes Kie aside

versus

The way they "built up" S3 JJ for a toxic relationship with Kie but as a result of that he has to push Pope aside.

The writers and creators gave us s1 JJ, that's how his character was made and supposed to be portrayed. S3 JJ was built off toxic fans who threatened their way into an unfortunate canon ship.

Toxic stans = Toxic ship.

You Jiara stans wonder why JJ felt out of character, or why the Jiara chemistry felt forced or fake. That's because it was.

You can't force chemistry.

All the OBX cast did chemistry reads to see which duos worked together as a couple and which didn't. But the one duo that did not do a chemistry read was JJ and Kie (Rudy and Madi)

why?

because the creators saw no need. as they weren't even thinking of getting those two characters together. JJ was supposed to end up with Cleo. That was one of the many reasons Cleo came back as a main character.

What they would do with Kie and Pope, I don't know and I don't care. But Any ending would have been better than canon Jiara.

Anywaysssss

JJ treats Pope like he's his partner

and

JJ treats Kie like she's his sister

But let's be honest...we all see that, don't we?

Editor's note: Sry this took so long lol, life's been busy :)

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

CHAT, IT'S DONE!!! CHAPTER 3 IS HERE!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIO!!! YOUR PRESENT??? THE BIG SAD!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!

ANYWAY, chat I think this chapter genuinely has some of my best writing so uh, praying this gets popular lol- CLICK ON THE IMAGES FOR BETTER QUALITY 🙏

AND WITH THAT, ENJOY!!! >:D!!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4

"I did what was right."

"You did what benefited you and only you."

Could the warden have been right?

Medkit sits there, staring at Biograft as he recovers from overheating and attempts at saving battery for the rest of the trip. The two are on their way to the Church of the True Eye, Medkit has to report back about what happened no matter what. However, the pair are currently resting at Sword's. Biograft lays in Sword's hammock, "sleeping," though he can't actually recharge without Subspace’s crystal.

I can't do anything.

I can't do anything but watch as his newly grooved existence runs along the iron rails laid before him by my own. There’s no lever, no other track, and I could close my eyes, but watching is the least I owe him. From the rifled frozen heart of the mountains to the ineludible sand of the desert he now erringly rushes forward. He’s smart; but there’s intelligence which lies with woe or that which lies with insanity. In some souls are the wings of the swords who hegemonize this world which allows them to dive into the darkest gorges, soar out of them again and again, and become impervious to the wills of many. Such that even if they were to fly forever in those georges, they’re in the mountains, making even their lowest swoop higher than that of any plain bird’s soar. He’s just now growing, with so much potential and light. Do I have it in me to watch if he falls the same as I?

Biograft’s awakening quickly stole Medkit’s attention from his thoughts. “I am no longer overheating and believe I have deleted a sufficient amount of data, my remaining battery should now last a week."

“The church isn’t that far, which should leave us most of that time to figure out a battery for you,” he’s cut off by Sword entering the room.

“Hey Med, how’s Bio- Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He stepped forward and rested his arm on Medkit’s shoulder. He wasn’t all that sure about hosting a murderous robot, but Medkit’s adamance, and offering to charge him less from then on, ment this was important. Medkit didn’t give many details of what happened, but he did mention this Biograft being sentient and that the two just escaped from Subspace.

He met Sword with silence. He’s never felt before, how would he even be able to describe it? He has the vocabulary, but words are too subjective and feelings don’t always follow their denotation. It’s too complex. That’s without the added burden of asking if it’s even real. All experiences of life are different, but is his even valid? He can’t even articulate how he’s doing in this present moment. This is a train of thought best saved for later. He won’t lie, but he doesn’t know the truth. He simply says, “That is an overwhelming question,” and leaves it there.

“I should’ve thought about that, hah! Sorry, let me ask something different then, hmm,” Biograft wanted to interrupt and say the apology was unnecessary, but Sword spoke before he got the chance. “Still think my techniques are outdated?”

Biograft stares at him for a moment before speaking, “Incredibly so.” He pauses, “However, there is merit to it, age often brings either value or irrelevance. I believe you’re making a good attempt at having it be the first option of the two.” His words surprise Sword, but it seems to convince him that this Biograft is different from the ones he’s fought before.

Sword smiles at Biograft, it confuses him, but at least Sword seems pleased with his response. Medkit speaks up, “We should get going.”

“Leaving already? Dang! You sure you two are good to leave?” He knows they have to leave for the cult eventually, but he wouldn’t mind their company for a bit longer.

“As ready as we can be.”

“So not at all?”

“Correct.”

As Medkit had predicted, it did not take them long to arrive at the church. The two are greeted by Scythe, “Aw there ya are ‘Kit! Why if I didn't know any better I woulda thought you were tryna run,” she steps forward, looking Biograft up and down, “I see you brought a new toy with ya.”

“I can explain.” Biograft notices a new hesitancy in Medkit’s voice.

“Well of course ya are! Let’s go find some place else to talk.” There’s been some sort of underlying threat lacing itself in her words, but Biograft can’t grasp what. Medkit, however, knows it all too well. Scythe begins to walk and motions for the pair to follow behind. Medkit’s hands tense, something makes Biografts shake.

The two stick close as they follow Scythe, eventually making it to an office like room with a large round table. She motions for them to sit at one end while she walks to the other. “Now then! Explain before I disassemble yer lil friend here.” The way her tone didn’t match her words reminded Biograft of Subspace, but this felt different. This felt different. He should be used to violence aimed his way, being in phights, having been part of Blackrock’s security force, being close to his creator, but this wasn’t the same. There are stakes, this existence is now the only one he has, there’s no coming back now if he’s killed. He won’t claim to be alive, but he will fight for this life with every part of himself.

Medkit knew she would probably rip Biograft apart regardless, “This Biograft, he’s sentient, we got away from Subspace-”

“Hold your horses there Doc, ain’t we supposed to be keepin’ ya safe from that scientist?”

“That is the deal we have but-”

“Now how exactly are we gonna keep ya safe from him if yer actively bringin’ his lil experiments ‘round the place, mm?

“He’s different!”

“Ya say that but all I see here is a security risk.”

Biograft stood up, “I can prove it.” he pauses for a moment to rephrase his words, “let me prove myself.” Medkit looks at him, clearly shocked, wanting to stop him.

Surprise managed to slip through Scythe’s expression. Oh, this was gonna be fun, “Well, well, well~ it can speak fer itself. Hmmm, you know what, yeah, I’ll give ya one shot,” she walks to the door and holds it open, “Come along now~” Medkit goes to follow behind Biograft, but Scythe raises her hand and shoots him a look, “You’re stayin’ here, Broker will be here to talk to ya in a bit. You can give him yer full report.” Medkit goes to say something, but flinches back, a pain shooting through his eye as Scythe’s glass one temporarily gains a teal tint. He sits back down and crosses his arms, refusing to look at her.

Her smirk grows as she turns to Biograft, “Now then, shall we?

Scythe led him to one one of the canyons near the church, as the two walked she asked, “I assume yer lookin to stay here? With him?”

“Yes.” For the first time since all of this had started, he could answer without hesitation. Staying by Medkit’s side, he wasn’t sure what made him seek such a thing so desperately, but he knew he had to do whatever it took.

“And how exactly ya think this’ll work hm?” Scythe stopped and turned to look at him.

Confused, he asked, “In what regard?”

“Well I need some,” She paused, “Reassurance. I could put in a good word for you to the Father, but how do we know this ain’t a long con for you and yer creator?” She began to step closer, “Or that yer any different from the tons of you I’ve dismantled before?” Standing face to face, inches apart, “How do we know yer a good fit for the family?”

“I’ve abandoned all of my connection to Blackrock-”

She puts her hand up to cut him off, “I don’t mean for you to tell me," She yanks him forward, "I want you to show me.”

The two exchange blows for a while. After, Scythe takes a seat on a nearby cliff edge and motions for him to sit next to her, “A’ight, that’s good enough, I get the point yer different, but I still got some things I wanna ask.” He sits next to her, “Why did you leave?”

He immediately goes to excuse his actions, “I had to-”

“No. Listen kid, I’ve fought…” she vaguely gestures at him, “you, before. I know you do insane amounts of calculatin’ and figurin’ out the ‘most optimal actions’ to take for yer directives n all that. So out of every choice you coulda made in that moment, what made leavin’ the best?” She observed him, even if he wasn’t a demon, there’s something in him. Something that can be used.

He froze. He didn’t know? No, he did know, he just didn’t want to admit it. He could’ve just gotten Medkit out of there and returned to Blackrock. He could have returned to Subspace’s side and just held him back until Medkit got away. He didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to be here, but something inside him needed him to. Needed Medkit. Medkit’s absence hurt him, and now he had a chance to be by his side again. This is one shot at it. Biograft gave up every part of his previous identity for this. It won’t be like what it was before Medkit left, far from it, but that didn’t matter. Whether he was sentient, or not, didn’t matter. Medkit would be here, and that’s all he needed. “He did.”

Scythe smiles, seeming more than pleased with his answer. “Say, you need a battery right? Er, well, some way of chagrin? I hear ‘Kits crystal aint work for you, I might have somethin’ that will.”

He looks at her surprised, “Really?”

She nods, “It comes with conditions of course, but you’ll join the family, I’ll vouch for ya, and you’ll get to work alongside our dear medic. You gotta … earn the power you’ll be using from the father, but I think you’ll make a fine vessel for it.” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a glass eye, “Here, it’s even the one ‘Kit was s’ppossed to have! His eye was sewn shut before he joined, which is why he’s allowed to have an eyepatch.”

He takes the glass eye, “I assume you’ll want me to change my display?”

She nods, “You’ll be required to yeah, I know you don’t have proper eyes, so something to show only one ‘ll work fine,” she thinks for a moment, “Maybe you change one to a flower!”

The three meet again in the workshop. It was nowhere near what he used to have in Blackrock, but it was functional, and Subspace was nowhere to be seen. Medkit steps up to Biograft, putting his hands on his shoulders, before giving him a tight embrace. Biograft was quick to reciprocate. Medkit whispered to him, “You’re still a weapon in everyone else's eyes, just in someone else's hands now, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

The two pull apart and Biograft lays on the rooms center workbench, "I didn't leave for freedom, I left for you."

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you have any tip on writing character that smarter than you? Like I need to write about prowl solving case, but I barely passed my math exam.

I do have a few tips!

One, research. The more you know about a subject matter yourself, the more you can BS your way through it. You don't have to go write a thesis or anything like that, but knowing key phrases, terms, and ideas can help you make crap up on the fly. For example, if you want to write a battle scene, do a quick look into a historical figure who you want to model your character after. Look at an interesting battle and analyze key elements. Then take the vague overview of it and go buck wild. Throw it into a blender in order to create a believable plan/tactic for your character to follow.

Two, foreshadow and develop a reputation. This will cover for a lot of things for your character and save you the slog of explaining everything. If your character is established to have a reputation for being intelligent and/or capable, you can have your character glance over things and leave readers confident that something was actually accomplished. Of course, you need to be careful with this. If you establish your character to be a brutal strategist and then have said character go out of their way to care about civilians the next moment, you will run into problems with consistency.

Three, include other characters in the scene. You can draw attention away from your own lack of knowledge by having several things moving at once to add to the overall scene. A character can look far more complex and wise if they are seen interacting with others and using different tools to help accomplish their goals. Not everyone can be Sherlock Holmes. Some characters can express their cunning and intelligence via interacting with others and through dialogue. Be careful not to be too hamfisted with it though, otherwise it feels forced. I personally tend to spend chapters upon chapters foreshadowing and establishing the capabilities and reputation of a character that is meant to be smarter than me.

Four, lean on a character's traits. If you are writing a character with highly noticeable traits, you can lean on those to help rationalize their actions even if they end up being inconsistent later. I am personally a huge fan of this since emotion can make an otherwise very intelligent character brutally ineffective in the right situation.

Regarding your example of Prowl, I would first study whatever it is he is meant to be looking into. If it's a murder, I'd look into a few interesting real life murder cases for example. I personally studied true crime to write Prowl chapters in my fic. Then, apply that basic knowledge and have Prowl be capable of assessing the situation quickly and logically. Next, or perhaps also first, I would establish his reputation and background to give him a base of knowledge that is believable. This can be done through background dialogue, his thoughts, or through setting details.

Then, to really sell it, I would have Prowl contact associates, dig up old data, and otherwise showcase his knowledge base and intelligence through organic means. Pulling up other characters can make him seem far more calculating than you, the author, may be. And lastly, I would pull on his lack of empathy to help guide how he makes his decisions. This way, you can still slip up a bit as an Author in his conclusions so long as they relate back to Prowl's weaknesses somehow.

These are rather vague, but I hope this helps!

[nebbys-personal-nebula]

the biggest, most copium agent 4 theory from this clown of an agent four enjoyer

apologies for the wait on this! i wanted to unlock all of the dev diaries to make sure i could squeeze out every last bit of lore...

anyways SIDE ORDER SPOILERS INCLUDING POSTGAME

so let's start with the common knowledge. most people know by this point that agent 4 has a palette. it's one of the first you get in the game, after pearl and marina's. to the surprise of nobody, it is a splattershot...

according to what marina says about the memverse, palettes are a portion of a person's soul dragged into the memverse. so agent 4's soul got dragged in here somehow. how did this happen, and why? there are a few possibilities...

marina mentions in her eighth dev diary that she needs someone to handle system security. she writes: "maybe i can ask that person cuttlefish introduced me to for help there." this is still pretty vague, but we know from smollusk's note on agent 4's palette that it is definitely agent 4. quote:

"THIS is who mawina wanted in charge of memverse security? this unfwappable, free-spirited so-and-so? i would never abide it!"

the question is: if agent 4 was intended to be security for the memverse, then where are they? this leads us to the parallel canon boss!

note that figure in the center. even though all descriptions for this boss describe it as "a lot like eight", it is clearly an inkling with its pointed ears and hair.

the hairstyle is significant, too. all art of this boss, including its icon, display it with the "haircut" style. why does this matter? because official art of agent 4 also uses this style:

on top of that, people have reported that if you have splatoon 2 save data on your switch, the boss will use whatever hairstyle your inkling uses in that game (with that inkling, of course, being agent 4). unfortunately, i forgot to take a screenshot of my save, but maybe someone could reblog this and confirm?

another thing to note about that agent 4-looking robot in the center is that they're wielding the order shot, which is the same weapon you get from agent 4's palette.

so what exactly am i getting at with all this? let's read a little more of smollusk's notes on agent 4...

"buut...no weason such stwength shouldn't be used to pwotect a world of order. an order defense force is MUCH cooler than a new squidbeak splatoon anyway!"

this phrasing is particularly interesting to me because it implies smollusk wants to, or already has utilized agent 4's strength in some way. additionally, smollusk regards fans of chaos in a very similar way. for almost all of them, he argues they must be "punished". examples:

"she must be PUNISHED!" - callie's palette

"her chaotic lies must be PUNISHED!" - shiver's palette

"for the sake of order, they all must be PUNISHED!" - frye's palette

"it annoys me, so he must be PUNISHED!" - big man's palette

"he must be PUNISHED!" - sheldon's palette

"i sentence him to PUNISHMENT!" - dj octavio's palette

almost all of these characters are on the side of "chaos". callie and dj octavio were on the chaos side of the final fest, while shiver, frye, and big man rep the splatlands, basically the land of chaos. no idea what smollusk's beef is with sheldon though that guy was neutral LOL

on the other hand, smollusk is notably softer with characters on the side of "order", like marie, murch, and marina (obviously). he still critiques them, but he doesn't sentence them to "punishment".

agent 4 was on the side of chaos in the final fest. so why didn't smollusk sentence them to "punishment"?

perhaps it's because smollusk is already making use of them...by using their soul to control the parallel canon boss!

think about it! the bosses of the tower are basically security, right? they keep you from reaching the top! since smollusk knows from marina that agent 4 was meant to be security, it could have pulled in their soul to fulfill that job. that's why agent 4's palette is there, and that's why we don't physically see them in the dlc! because they're grayscaled in the outside world!

…it is also definitely possible that the boss is just INSPIRED by agent 4, taken from marina's memories, or something like that. but i like this theory because it explains why agent 4's soul ended up in the memverse.

one other thing - i think the popular opinion is that the parallel canon boss are "robots", due to the way they move, their eyes glowing, the filter on their voice, etc...this is probably true, but have you ever wondered if the boss is actually a real inkling (a digital…real…inkling? you get the idea) if it was just a robot like the others, why would it specifically have ears and hair? not only that, but you can get the parallel mask from the priz shop:

which you wear on your face. what if this is the real agent four, wearing this parallel mask? their gray coloring could be because they're grayscaled! after all, we never actually see a representation of grayscaling in-game. the name implies that they'd actually turn gray in some way, maybe in the color of their tentacles. but this could be the most dramatic extent of it!

this is definitely a stretch, but you can consider it food for the die-hard agent 4 angsters out there. love you guys <3

feel free to reblog if you have thoughts, add-ons or even counterpoints! i find this all really interesting

[airas-story]

Quick quick ..I need to think of the best Stephen Jarvis prompts because that ask today!!! I am altered and brimming with ideas. Stephen and jarvis relationship has so many tangents and potential. My brain cannot stop coming up with new material. Will get back to you with only the best of the best and pick one :(

Don't want to flood your inbox. But I also couldn't control sharing this ever since I have read your answer to the prompt.

There are very many possibilities for Stephen and JARVIS. I will gladly take any of them... This wasn't a prompt, but here's some Stephen and JARVIS regardless!

JARVIS scanned his coding, searching for the bug that had to be in his system.

There could be no other explanation for the person that had just fallen from thin air into Sir’s lab. Except he could find no error. The person collapsed on the ground was, as far as JARVIS’ sensors could determine, truly there. JARVIS sent a ping to DUM-E to rouse him—DUM-E hadn’t left his charging station in six weeks, now, desolate with Sir’s absence—to check on the figure on the ground.

DUM-E stirred, eager chirp turning petulant as he understood JARVIS’ request. DUM-E didn’t care about strange people in Sir’s lab if Sir was not with them. JARIVS sent a remonstration. It was their responsibility to protect Sir’s lab until Sir could return. 

Sir would return.

JARVIS ignored all data packets and statistical structures that indicated otherwise. He had once lectured Sir on the dangers of denial. JARVIS understood, now, as he never had before, his human creator’s need for it.

DUM-E trundled over to the figure, poking at the person with his claw.

The figure stirred, a low groan reaching JARVIS’ sensors. ”Where—“ They pushed themselves up, blinking blearily as they looked around with what JARVIS estimated to be dazed confusion. “DUM-E?” The figure asked. They pushed themselves to their feet, steadying themselves on the nearest table.

DUM-E pulled back sharply, demanding an explanation for how the person knew DUM-E’s name.

“You are not authorized to be here,” JARVIS said. “Explain your presence. I am calling the authorities.”

The figure froze, then let out a strangled, desperate laugh. “You must be JARVIS.” They shook their head, as though in shock. “It worked. It actually worked. Please. Don’t call the authorities. My name is Doctor Stephen Strange. I’m here to save Tony Stark’s life.”

[dusty-pistol]

I finally got around to doin a lil concept thing for my Dialtown Fallout AU!! Just Callum for now! More info + drawn blood warnin under the cut! There is a LOT of yappin bout his Fallout storyline under the cut, so if you like readin, this is definitely for you!

I've always thought Callum was a T-51 kinda guy, so much like Proctor Ingram of the BOS, Callum also uses power armor to get around! He's still born with his disability of course, but instead of makin his own prosthetics and eventually makin a prosthetics company, in this AU, he's the one who made West Tek (company that made power armor)! It's still called Crown Mechanics, though. I decided to make his suit all battered, rusty, and bloody from bein out in the wastes for so long. And because I headcannon all phone-heads to have plug tails, power armor in this AU has detachable tail armor. If you're a Fallout fan, you've probably already noticed that his suit kinda resembles a deathclaw with the tail, color palette, and of course the attached deathclaw gauntlet. That was on purpose for a silly reason you'll read about later down the line.

The Crowns and the Start of Vault 40

In the start of the war, he made the first suit of power armor and started makin them in bulk once the military caught wind of his creation. He figured since he couldn't join the military, he'd help them with the same creation that helped him. He also made the phone head too, but the bombs dropped before it became a worldwide thing, so there's a mix between normies and phone heads both before and after the war. To add onto that, he also met Milton and Marla due to his accomplishments. He met Milton due to the power armor thing. Milton was onea the first soldiers to use power armor in battle. Callum met Marla because she managed to get an interview with him, and much like in canon, their relationship bloomed from there.

Because of his contributions to the war and such, he secured a spot in a vault and was made overseer of said vault. Basically rulin over that vault and goin through with the experiment like Basically every other vault. Vault 40. In that vault, the experiment was to convert all residents into object heads and see how people adapted to havin those mechanics integrated into their bodies. Milton got a spot in the vault for his military service, and Marla was given a space because Callum refused to go without her. Though even if Milton didn't already have a spot, Callum still would've demanded his friend be safe in the vault with him and his wife.

Callum made Milton his second in command while he had Marla help him record data. They were the only two whom he told about the vault experiment. Neither Milton nor Marla really liked the idea (Milton especially,) but they still went along with it, seein as the residents were actually pretty peaceful. For the duration of the vaults operation, it was a peaceful community. Callum also experimented on himself too, tryna prove to both his partners and his people that the experiments were safe and beneficial. His experiment is what made him live for far longer than he should. Milton and Marla stopped him from doin the same to the people, though, sayin that he shouldn't mess with them more than he already had.

But of course, the community ran into a common problem among vaults that have been in operation for years. They started runnin outta supplies. But because everyone had been sheltered for so long, nobody wanted to go out to find supplies. They were stuck and startin to panic. So Callum forced his plan into action in a far harsher, more desperate way to save everyone. Forcibly puttin everyone through the procedure. But because Milton hated the idea of literally modifying people into basically robots, he had a huge fight with Callum and left the vault. Leavin everyone behind. Nobody knew where he went, and nobody could stop him. And because Marla also didn't like the idea, she distanced herself from Callum. Now he was isolated from the people he loved most, and he started gettin bitter and paranoid.

Needless to say, the experiment didn't work on everyone. People revolted. Callin their overseer a monster for tryna turn them into somethin they weren't. Collectively, the vault residents overthrew the overseer and kicked him out of the vault and demanded he not return until he found supplies to last them all. (Even if he managed, they would just take the supplies and lock him out again anyway.) Votin that Marla be the new Overseer. Unfortunately, because she's just one woman, she couldn't do much to stop them all from kickin her husband out of his own vault. So she was left to not only rule over the vault in his absence but also do damage control, ration supplies, raise her son all on her own, and deal with the worry that maybe Callum and Milton would never come back.

While Callum was out in the wasteland, he had two missions. Find supplies so the vault lets him back in, and find Milton. Both were difficult considerin the hostile environment, but he eventually adapted to the harsh life outside the vault. He found settlements, gathered supplies, learned to deal with the mutated creatures of the wasteland, and became a different man than he used to be. He had to become more selfish, ruthless, and closed off from people so nobody could distract him from his goals, and so he didn't get himself killed out there.

Callum learned a lot of valuable skills out there and managed to gather a lot of supplies, but he just couldn't find Milton. He asked around, searched, hired people to look, and even killed for answers. But nothin ever came up. He knew that eventually he had to get back to the vault, but he just couldn't leave Milton behind. And now he searches the wastes lookin for Milton.

All the while, Marla took care of the vault. They set up a trade system with outsiders much like Vault 81 does since they were runnin outta options, and it was clear neither Milton nor Callum were comin back. As time went on, she got old and made her son, Hannibal the overseer, when she retired. Because she never underwent the same life prolongin experiment Callum did on himself, she sadly passed with only her son to be there in her final moments. But of course, the vault went on regardless. Hannibal ruled, married, had Mingus with his wife, retired, and Mingus was made overseer.

The Hopeful Band of Idiots

Mingus ruled much harsher than her family before her. Makin strict rules and rulin tyrannically. She hates outsiders, does not take criticism, and will have guards shoot you down the moment she gets a bad feelin bout you. Which is extremely often due to her distrust of outsiders. However, she does interrogate any and all outsiders that approach the vault about her grandfather's whereabouts. Nobody really has any answers or any answers she likes. Most say he's probably dead. Others say he's just some legend or myth. Is he still alive? Who knows? The lack of answers both frustrates and intrigues Mingus, so she gatherers a small band of people to go out and search for her grandfather despite multiple people tellin her not to repeat her family's mistakes.

That band consists of entertainment expert Oliver Swift, who helps his adoptive father run the small theater in the vault and plans other activities to keep the residents morale up. He's the charismatic member to keep the group goin and keep them from pissin dangerous people off.

Randy Jade, who's supposed to help manage the generators and other machines, but absolutely sucks at it. Literally cannot do their job without somethin goin wrong. She's also scared of a particular generator that hums a little too loudly at her. The only reason she was recruited was because everyone just wanted her out of the vault before she somehow manages to blow it all up. She has some experience with machines given her job, so as long as she's not pressured or there's no loud machine that sounds like it's about to eat her, she's actually good at repairs and craftin.

Karen Dunn, who runs the trade center. She hates her job because people constantly try to barter with her when her prices are already set and exact. Outsiders are also too loud, and lots of them gawk because they're not used to seein object heads that aren't ghouls. Extremely unfavorable to someone who hates bein stared at and hagglin prices. She's the one to do trades at different settlements the group stops at. Carryin supplies and makin sure there's income.

Roger Jones, who also works in the heavy machinery department like Randy. But instead of actually workin with the machines, he just walks around with a clipboard and marks off certain things. And doodles a lot on the paper, but hey, it get borin doin nothin all day! Ya can't blame a guy for findin somethin to do. He just wanted to come along to get out of the vault and see the world outside.

Unfortunately because most all of them aren't cut out for travelin the wastes, they come across a lot of issues on their journey. Mutated creatures tryna kill em at every corner, violent people ready to stab and shoot at a moments notice, typical lawless violence. But they come across some new friends along the way too. Such as a deathclaw who's strangely friendly, albeit chaotic, and a mysterious merc who never takes off his helmet and carries a big iron on his hip...

Anyway, that's kinda all I have for the Dialtown Fallout AU, at least for now!! I'm super proud of myself for comin up with all of this, and it actually makin sense for both universes. I'm so happy with how far it's come and how different it is from my original idea. It feels more fleshed out and unique now that I put more time and thought into it! I hope yall enjoyed readin through it all if you managed to make it through this far! I implore yall to ask questions as I'm super excited to help people understand better!!! Thank ya kindly =]

[teecupangel]

I'm almost sorry to add another story idea to your backlog pile, BUT:

Elijah finds out what his dad went through, manages to break into a parallel universe, time travels to the 3 eras of the main ancestors, and tries to change things enough to save Desmond. Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhake:ton ask this tiny, angry, sarcastic, cactus of a child why he's doing what he's doing, and he eventually explains it over time.

Desmond, on the other hand, is watching all of this through the animus: a son he didn't know existed was trying to save him. An infant who he had never met, and who had never met him, was fighting time and reality itself to save him from a fate that still hasn't been explained, was showing more care and love and compassion for him than anyone Desmond had ever known before. And it hurts, because Desmond just grows to love him more and more, but thinks he'll never truly meet him outside of a Bleed.

Elijah never seems to age, even though he spends like forty years picking on Ezio. There's a statue of him in the Monterrigioni sanctuary, and he hates it with a passion.

Just... Elijah trying to fuck up time enough to save his dad, and Desmond watching all of it both touched and heartbroken, because if he's going through all of this anyways, it was all for nothing.

Then Elijah comes out of nowhere in the Grand Temple and sucker punches Juno with a data virus he had hardcoded into their lineage's DNA over nine centuries lmao

Please never be sorry for sending me an ask. Pile as much as you want as long as you guys understand that it would take a while for me to answer them (a month or so at this point XD)

Okay, but can you just imagine if Elijah was just a teenager in this one? That would give more of a sucker punch vibe to Desmond once he learns who Elijah is.

He has the ability to time travel but he can’t control where he gets sent. His goal had been to save Desmond Miles but he made the mistake of tying his time to Desmond Miles and not to someone more stable like Rebecca Crane or Shaun Hastings.

Hell, William Miles would be a better choice.

Because…

Desmond Miles’ ‘time’ is connected to the memories he watch in the Animus, making Elijah slip in and out of certain ‘times’, following the memories Desmond watches.

Desmond assumed Elijah was one of the informants in Altaïr’s memories. It’s only when Altaïr began to see him as an annoying child who always got in the way of Altaïr’s missions that Elijah told the truth.

Why?

Because Elijah has nothing to lose from telling Altaïr the truth. He was a prisoner of time itself, being yanked time and time again. He has a theory that he was being yanked to the time in Altaïr’s life where Desmond was watching him so he figured he could give Desmond information as well using Altaïr.

It would be funny, after all.

The Isus have chosen Ezio Auditore to be their prophet.

Why couldn’t Elijah make Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad his prophet then?

And he’ll take Ezio Auditore from the Isus as well.

Maybe it was Aita’s selfishness and desire for power.

Maybe it was his very own selfish desire to have something that was truly his.

“Shall we make a deal, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad?”

“A deal?” Those golden eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.

But it didn’t matter what he saw.

He cannot begin to fathom the truth.

Not yet, anyway.

Right now, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was a man lost in a vicious snowstorm threatening to swallow him whole and pull him to his frozen grave.

He still haven’t found the warmth he was meant to have, given to him by the Calculations.

“My name is Elijah.” He said, “I am a child of Time itself.”

“What nonsen-”

“I will correctly tell you what will happen when you confront Garnier de Naplouse.” Elijah stated, making Altaïr stop from walking away from him. Altaïr turned just enough to stare at him with one of his golden eyes as Elijah continued, “And I will tell you the future you are meant to have.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“From you? Nothing.” Elijah admitted, “All I want is a bit of your time.”

“My time?”

“To talk to Desmond Miles.”

Altaïr frowned as he said, “I do not know anyone by that name.”

“I know.” Elijah answered with a nod, “But he’s watching you. The Templars are forcing him to watch you right now and it is because he is forced to watch you that he comes to care for you so…”

“I will help you save yourself, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.” Elijah said, “To change your fate to whatever you desire, instead of what has been laid out in front of you. In exchange…”

“All I ask is you listen to me so I can take to my father.” Elijah’s lips curved into a small smirk that felt more Aita than him, “And to commemorate my first message to my father, I believe I should tell him an important truth.”

“Lucy Stillman is a Templar who betrayed the Assassins.”

(I feel like in this case, Elijah would provide more information and let Altaïr do what he wants. He only starts to actually have a more active roll once the memory seals from ACR starts and he grows close to Altaïr’s children. By the time he gets to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton, he’s more ‘fuck the backseat, I’m driving’ and actively helps. This ends up with Elijah finally ‘returning’ to Desmond Miles’ time just as Minerva and Juno told him what will happen if he lets the world burn and, by that point, Elijah had already completed a device that would force Juno’s consciousness to operate the device in Desmond’s stead).