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lulunothulu · 2 months ago

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There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

#lulu's requests mail #glen powell #fanfic #glen powell x you #glen powell fic #glen powell x reader #glenpowelledit

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oinonsana · 7 months ago

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realities, maximalism,and the need for big book™️

some gubat banwa design thoughts vomit: since the beginning of its development i've kind of been enraptured with trying to really go for "fiction-first" storytelling because PbtA games really are peak roleplaying for me, but as i wrote and realized that a lot of "fiction first" doesn't work without a proper sort of fictional foundation that everyone agrees on. this is good: this is why there are grounding principles, genre pillars, and other such things in many PbtA games--to guide that.

broken worlds is one of my favs bc of sheer vibes

Gubat Banwa didn't have much in that sense: sure, I use wuxia and xianxia as kind of guideposts, but they're not foundational, they're not pillars of the kind of fiction Gubat Banwa wants to raise up. there wasn't a lot in the sense of genre emulation or in the sense of grounding principles because so much of Gubat Banwa is built on stuff most TTRPG players haven't heard about. hell, it's stuff squirreled away in still being researched academic and anthropological circles, and thanks to the violence of colonialism, even fellow filipinos and seasians don't know about them

this is what brought me back to my ancient hyperfixations, the worlds of Exalted, Glorantha, Artesia, Fading Suns... all of them have these huge tomes of books that existed to put down this vast sprawling fantasy world, right? on top of that are the D&D campaign settings, the Dark Suns and the Eberrons. they were preoccupied in putting down setting, giving ways for people to interact with the world, and making the world alive as much as possible.

one of my main problems with gubat banwa was trying to convey this world that i've seen, glimpsed, dreamed of. this martial fantasy world of rajas and lakans, sailendras and tuns, satariyas and senapatis and panglimas and laksamanas and pandai... its a world that didn't really exist yet, and most references are steeped in either nationalism or lack of resources (slowly changing, now)

i didn't want to fall back into the whole gazeteer tourist kind of shit when it came to writing GB, but it necessitated that the primary guidelines of Gubat Banwa were set down. my approach to it was trying to instill every aspect of the text, from the systems to the fluff text to the way i wrote to the way things were phrased, with the essence of this world i'm trying to put forward. while i wrote GB mainly for me and fellow SEAsian people, economically my main market were those in the first world countries that could afford to buy the book. grokking the book was always going to be severely difficult for someone that didn't have similar cultures, or are uninterested in the complexities of human culture. thus why GB had to be a big book.

in contemporary indie ttrpg spaces (where I mostly float in, though i must admit i pay more attention to SEAsia spaces than the usual US spaces) the common opinion is that big books like Exalted 3e are old hat, or are somewhat inferior to games that can cram their text into short books. i used to be part of that camp--in capitalism, i never have enough time, after all. however, the books that do go big, that have no choice to go big, like Lancer RPG, Runequest, Mage, Exalted are usually the ones that have something really big it needs to tell you, and they might be able to perform the same amount of text-efficient bursting at the seams flavor writing but its still not enough.

thats what happened to GB, which I wanted to be, essentially, a PbtA+4e kind of experience, mechanically speaking. i very soon abandoned those titles when i delved deeper into research, incorporated actual 15th century divination tools in the mechanics, injected everything with Martial Arts flavor as we found our niche

all of this preamble to say that no matter how light i wanted to go with the game, i couldnt go too light or else people won't get it, or i might end up writing 1000 page long tome books explaining every detail of the setting so people get it right. this is why i went heavy on the vibes: its a ttrpg after all. its never gonna be finished.

i couldnt go too light because Gubat Banwa inherently exists on a different reality. think: to many 3 meals a day is the norm and the reality. you have to eat 3 meals a day to function properly. but this might just be a cultural norm of the majority culture, eventually co opted by capitalism to make it so that it can keep selling you things that are "breakfast food" or "dinner food" and whatnot. so its reality to some, while its not reality to others. of course, a lot of this reality-talk pertains mostly to social--there is often a singular shared physical reality we can usually experience*

Gubat Banwa has a different fabric of reality. it inherently has a different flow of things. water doesn't go down because of gravity, but because of the gods that make it move, for example. bad things happen to you because you weren't pious or you didn't do your rituals enough and now your whole community has to suffer. atoms aren't a thing in gb, thermodynamics isn't a real thing. the Laws of Gubat Banwa aren't these physical empirical things but these karmic consequent things

much of the fiction-first movement has a sort of "follow your common sense" mood to it. common sense (something also debatable among philosophers but i dont want to get into that) is mostly however tied to our physical and social realities. but GB is a fantasy world that inherently doesn't center those realities, it centers realities found in myth epics and folk tales and the margins of colonized "civilization", where lightnings can be summoned by oils and you will always get lost in the woods because you don't belong there.

so Gubat Banwa does almost triple duty: it must establish the world, it must establish the intended fiction that arises from that world, and then it must grant ways to enforce that fiction to retain immersion--these three are important to GB's game design because I believe that that game--if it is to not be a settler tourist bonanza--must force the player to contend with it and play with it within its own terms and its own rules. for SEAsians, there's not a lot of friction: we lived these terms and rules forever. don't whistle at night on a thursday, don't eat meat on Good Friday, clap your hands thrice after lighting an incense stick, don't make loud noise in the forests. we're born into that [social] reality

this is why fantasy is so important to me, it allows us to imagine a different reality. the reality (most of us) know right now (i say most of us because the reality in the provinces, the mountains, they're kinda different) is inherently informed by capitalist structures. many people that are angry at capitalist structures cannot fathom a world outside capitalist structures, there are even some leftists and communists that approach leftism and revolution through capitalism, which is inherently destructive (its what leads to reactionaries and liberalism after all). fantasy requires that you imagine something outside of right now. in essence read Ursula K Le Guin

i tweeted out recently that you could pretty easily play 15-16th century Luzon or Visayas with an OSR mechanic setting and William Henry Scott's BARANGAY: SIXTEENTH CENTURY PHILIPPINE CULTURE AND SOCIETY, and I think that's purely because barebones OSR mechanics stuff fits well with the raiding and adventuring that many did in 15-16th century Luzon/Visayas, but a lot of the mechanics wont be comign from OSR, but from Barangay, where you learn about the complicated marriage customs, the debt mechanics, the social classes and stratum...

so thats why GB needs to be a (relatively) big book, and why I can contend that some books need to be big as well--even if their mechanics are relatively easy and dont need more than that, the book, the game, might be trying to relay something even more, might be trying to convey something even more than that. artesia, for example, has its advancements inherently tied to its Tarot Cards, enforcing that the Arcana guides your destiny. runquest has its runes magic, mythras (which is kinda generic) has pretty specific kinds of magic systems that immediately inform the setting. this is why everything is informed by something (this is a common Buddhist principle, dependent arising). even the most generic D&D OSR game will have the trappings of the culture and norms of the one that wrote and worked on it. its written from their reality which might not necessarily be the one others experience. that's what lived experience is, after all

*live in the provinces for a while and you'll doubt this too!

#gubat banwa #ttrpg #filipino #fantasy #writing #rpg #gamedev #dnd

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remcycl333 · 1 year ago

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i really like when u talk abt ur own experiences when dealing with all this!! could u expand more on how u manifested ur apartment? like what ur daily life looked like, etc. bc im in a similar situation w a mentally exhausting family and im trying to get tf out lol

TW: narcissistic/co-dependent parent

yeah! so my older sister got married and moved out, leaving me alone with a narcissistic parent, so i knew i really wanted to move out and live on my own. but i had negative circumstances. for instance my parent was really co-dependent, which led to them never letting me get my drivers license or a job. even when i was 20-21. plus this was during lockdown so i didn't really have the ability to learn how to drive from other means. plus along with not being able to drive and not having the money to afford living on my own, i knew my parent would never let me move out bc they didn't want to be alone. so i was really depressed because my situation felt very hopeless.

but then i remembered the power of manifestation. i had manifested an sp at this point and other things, such as appearance changes and money here and there, but this was a "big" manifestation. big meaning that so many dominoes had to fall in just the right places, so to speak. for instance i was nervous that i'd wake up in a new apartment and not be able to pay the rent to live there and have to move out. so i was unsure if i should manifest money first, and then manifest the apartment. but what i was imagining as my end was me in my apartment with more than enough money to survive, so i decided not to manifest in steps.

i was triggered a LOT at first, bc like i mentioned i was dealing with a co-dependent narcissistic parent. like sometimes they'd talk about how i'd still be living at home till i was 25+ and the idea made me go absolutely crazy. i went through months of being miserable at the idea, thinking about how all my peers were living on their own and not having to deal with the shit i did. but eventually i just got so fed up and i decided i just needed to go completely in, because i had been putting off really applying for the longest time.

so what i did was make a note in my notes app describing my dream apartment, and i included pics i found on Pinterest of different features i wanted in my apartment. like what i wanted the kitchen and bathroom to look like, the specific vanity i wanted, etc.

then whenever i thought about it, i'd tell myself i was already there and the apartment was mine. similarly to Abdullah slamming the door on Neville and saying "you are in Barbados", any time i wondered how it would happen or think about how it hadn't reflected yet, i'd tell myself "you are in your dream apartment." it was a reminder that i wouldn't be wondering any of those things, or worrying or doubting, if i was already in my dream apartment. and i already was there in my imagination! so there was no room for me to be dwelling on stuff like that.

throughout the day, i liked to retreat to my imagination when i had time and felt upset about my 3D. i'd do so by imagining that my surroundings were different. for instance i had a picture saved of what i wanted my shower to look like (it was always my dream to have a really really nice bathroom bc my shower has always been a safe space for me of sorts lmao) so when i was in the shower, i'd close my eyes and imagine i was in that shower i had saved from Pinterest. i also did this in the kitchen when i was cleaning or cooking, and while i laid in bed at night before falling asleep.

i also never really let people come over to my house when i lived with my parent(s) bc my co-dependent narcissistic parent would always come up with some completely insane and random reason why they didn't like that friend and i'd never hear the end of it. so i'd have inner convos with myself about how i was excited my friend was coming over later and i'd come up with different things we'd be doing. this was another way i liked to fulfill myself in my imagination.

whenever i was interacting with my parent, as i way to dismiss my 3D, i just pretended i was visiting home and that's why i was with them/at their house. it helped me remind myself that being there wasn't permanent.

this manifestation took me a couple of months, as i was triggered a lot. eventually, after fulfilling myself enough and finding solace in my imagination whenever i felt bad, i was triggered less and less by my 3d and circumstances. i also manifested my parent being chiller and blowing up a lot less.

the final thing i was missing was that i was in a neutral state a lot and i thought because i wasn't upset by my 3d that meant i wasn't in the state of lack. i just had this epiphany recently on my twitter, so it took me a while to correct this issue because i didn't even know it was an issue. i had that epiphany well after successfully manifesting my apartment.

the neutral state was me being like "oh my 3d isn't too bad i kinda like chilling in my room unbothered." so i wasn't upset at my 3d, but i was still also acknowledging i didn't have what i wanted. this was fixed when i started imagining my surroundings as my dream apartment, like i mentioned a few paragraphs up.

and then one day, i woke up and my surroundings felt different. i sleep with a sleeping mask on, so when i wake up and open my eyes, it's still pitch black. but i felt the air around me was different, and the sounds around me were different. like the sound of my ceiling fan in my room was different. then i took off my sleeping mask and i was in my new room, in my new apartment!

it was kinda spooky at first im ngl. at first i thought i was dreaming, but i wasn't (i checked). then i just explored the apartment! i was paranoid i was gonna find someone in my apartment or something 😭 but the apt was exactly how i wanted it to look, and i had plenty of money in my bank account to cover rent and bills and food! and i've been living here ever since with virtually 0 problems :)

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apprenticestanheight · 5 months ago

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would you be able to write amanda with a fem reader who wants to be courted? not like actual marriage courting but she likes the romantics and she’s not for casual stuff. if that makes any sense. thank you :)

Amanda Young x fem! romantic! reader headcanons

Hi anon!! This sat in my inbox too long and then it sat in my drafts too long and now that I have been forced to take a break from crocheting (I look down when I crochet and my neck is so stiff I can't move it without pain) and also because I rewatched saw III last week, I finally got the motivation to finish this one up! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been demotivated for a hell of a long time and writing has been tough.

Fic type - this one is just fluff

Warnings - none

Amanda isn't like you about the romantics or the courting stuff--she generally views romance as something that can happen organically, at least until she's like,, fully invested in your relationship.

she, despite her own initial feelings, will go all out for you bc she really does like you and will put in the effort for people she cares about.

She will take on extra hours at work just to be able to afford to take you out to nice places and to be so romantic that it would make even the most smitten couples vomit.

she's a lot like you in terms of your desires--not with the courting, but like, the devotion--and that becomes apparent maybe five or six months in, despite the fact that you'd both agreed it wouldn't be casual from the very beginning.

six months down and you're a fixture in her life that she can't really imagine being without, and you're the same with her. Nothing about your relationship is close to casual and six months in, discussions of moving in together start up.

Right out the gate it's agreed she'll move into your apartment, and she does so in like. a week max. She's packing her shit into like three boxes on Sunday morning and fully moved in by Friday night.

side tangent--I feel like she packs very lightly, just takes all of her clothes and some of her other stuff that's sentimental and then just tosses or sells the rest of it. Most of, if not everything she owns and actively cares about can fit into three boxes and maybe one backpack (which would primarily serve it's purpose in like, a small tablet, a laptop, a few notebooks and charging cords + maybe a pair of headphones or wired earbuds or smth)

and maybe a year or so in, things are so good!! People that know the two of you well enough to know you as more than very close best friends will often remark that a year gone you two act like you've been together for ten.

All in all, no matter how long the relationship lasts (which is like. all time or until amandas death, depending on whether or not you believe she could've faked her death or smth) it's very sweet goings on. You two are smitten from the beginning and stay that way until the end.

#amanda young #amanda young x reader #amanda young x fem! reader #saw (2004)

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inchidentally · 9 months ago

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never realized there was a similar Oscar interview to Max's and I'm probably late to this but interesting how Lando's and Oscar's dads weren't able to afford to pursue racing themselves but ended up being able to comfortably fund their sons:

Also, my grandad on both sides of the family (so, my mum’s dad and my dad’s dad), were both mechanics and have both followed motorsport for years, so it was always in the family but my grandparents didn’t have enough money to fund my dad. He actually used to race BMX bikes and couldn’t really afford motorsport, so I’m the first in the family to actually have the first real step into motorsport rather than just watching from the side lines.

“My dad was a racing fan,” admits Norris of his father, Adam Norris. “He loved everything about Formula 1 and racecars, but he didn’t get a chance to do it when he was growing up. It was too expensive, and he couldn’t afford it. - x

and while that in itself isn't uncommon I do find it unique that Oscar's dad gave him the fair ultimatum of 'if you choose to continue racing in the UK you'll need to go to boarding school bc I can't abandon the rest of my family' and Lando made a pact with his dad to never buy his way onto an F1 team. neither of the dads were willing to do 'whatever it takes' to make their sons' dreams come true - sort of a, if you want something that's so incredibly hard to reach then you've got to prove that you really wan it. and if not, then just come home.

idk the way that both their dads are so physically affectionate with them and are the ones to travel to see them but !! there's no toxic masculinity and no pushiness with their sons' careers. (I love that Oliver just decided to peace out of racing and it was no big deal, even though he was incredibly good) very much an expectation instilled in them that to earn such rarefied careers the boys have to do it on their own steam (Oscar's dad was open about how the costs for F3 and F2 were already getting too much for them and Mark stepping in to get sponsors saved the day).

that and the fact that Lando and Oscar individually and now together never had it instilled in them to motivate themselves by being antagonistic to their teammates/competitors. they're both still good friends with a lot of guys from their feeder series teams. the lack of toxicity definitely comes at least from the start from the dads setting an example.

like it's very weird for me A Poor to be talking about this stuff sympathetically but I do know The Rich at least in a few people and esp for children born to money it's Just Different. but good principles and appreciating privilege and immense good fortune are honestly even more important in children of wealth and it's good to see all of that was at work for Oscar and Lando from their families - and even more important that it comes from the dads in such a male dominated environment.

#inchidentallyanessay #landoscar #I also love that their moms and sisters aren't expected to uproot their lives or lose out bc their brothers wanted to chase a dream #the love and security is there but that's not their dream #and they've got their own lives to lead

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

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WIBTA for telling the blunt truth to my roommate, that shes immature, irresponsible, and rude?

[-.-] < so I can recognize

so I (20) have three roommates, A(20), B(21 or 22), and C(20). We all attend the same college. I have lived with A for 2 years, but we only started living with B and C in fall 2023. so far there have been some issues, and most of them revolve around interacting with C. C has a cat, and they keep the litterbox in their room of our apartment, so they always have their door open. This itself isnt really a problem, but I feel like its eroding the distinction between common space and their personal space for them. Often when there is another conversation happening at the table or on the couch, C will come out of their room, sit on the couch, and watch loud videos on their phone without headphones. Then, they will hear a small part of our conversation, react in TOTAL shock and awe, demand we recap the last 5-10 minutes of conversation to catch them up, then go right back to their video. On another occasion, I was talking with either A or B as well as C, when C said they were overstimulated and needed some quiet time (no problem with that, it happens) so they were going to put in their headphones and. stay in the living room on the couch. instead of going to their room.

They also will completely derail conversations into complete dead ends and traumadumping. I was driving, C was in the passenger seat, and B and our friend G(18 or 19 iirc) were in the back. we were chatting about our parents being silly and making harmless fun of us at various points, and C multiple times said "we're not talking about times my parents took away phones bc Trauma!" like. If you dont want to talk about it DONT BRING IT UP. C could have chimed in w a time their friend did something like that and it would be fine! but instead they latched onto the parent part. They do this fairly often, and it makes it really hard to have a conversation where we casually mention our childhoods, bc its always a minefield w C, as they will make a point to bring up that they lacked the circumstances for whatever experience we are talking about, either due to bad relationships w parents or due to growing up poor.

On top of all this, they also are not financially in a good place. They routinely dont have money for food and end up eating mostly communal stuff. Sometimes when they are low on money I will end up buying something communal just so they will stop carrying on. IMO if they are in that sort of financial situation they shouldnt have gotten a cat, bc I honestly dont think they can afford it. tbh I feel like they pretty much live on the cheese and tortillas I buy, and i'm starting to feel the financial stress of it.

They are constantly making every interaction about themselves in ways that make it really hard, even when they arent even part of the conversation.

Repeatedly i've wanted to tell them that they dont have to be involved in everything, and that they dont have to always be talking or generating noise. That when other people are talking, they need to either contribute constructively to the conversation, wait their turn, or at the very least stop and apologize when they interrupt someone instead of talking right over them for minutes at a time. And that its not our responsibility to help them when they are low on money, that maybe they shouldnt have gotten a cat if they werent able to financially support it, and also that it shouldnt be our (me, A and B)'s job to walk on egg shells bc they have emotional outbursts over incredibly minor things (they do take mood stabilizers and have a disorder that effects their mood, but that doesnt mean its ok that they will sometimes seem really angry and aggressive out of absolutely nowhere, yelling swears with no provocation).

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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max-nicoxfandom · 3 months ago

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Some trauma/whump/abuse scenarios for you, because your character can be traumatized without having the literal joker for a parent. Like not all abuse is so outward, I would argue that most abuse looks more like this.

Feel free to add your own, this is just stuff I've experienced

Yelling. I don't mean being yelled at. I mean a child being in a household where their guardian is always stressed and always yelling. It puts your body in fight or flight mode for all of eternity, trust

Sex and other adult topics being discussed with or around a child before they can understand what they're talking about

In the same vein, adults talking about a child while right in front of their face, and not caring what they hear or believing that they don't understand what they're hearing (they always do)

Gaslighting. Phrases like "you dreamt that" "you're being too sensitive" "that never happened" "don't lie"(while telling the truth)

Guardians not supporting the child's interests, or even down right denouncing them, whether they do it by taking the interest away or insulting the child for participating or some secret third thing

Misplaced anger/adult taking out anger on the child

Food scarcity, specifically by refusing to buy food that a picky eater would eat, or not having enough money to keep food on the table

In a similar vein, buying luxury items like game systems, new clothes, TV's, etc, while not being able to afford to put food on the table (and if you want to be even cooler the guardian will make the child feel bad for complaining about not having basic needs met by pointing out all of their luxury items they've been bought, double points if the child didn't want or ask for any of it)

Being treated as a burden, or saying things like "you're too/so expensive" "you're so needy" "you're too spoiled"

Guardian A trying to turn their child against guardian B, making themselves look like the better caretaker or better person.

Guardian who treats their child as a friend, or overall not having enough boundaries between parent and child

Emotional absents. Being there, but never engaging with their child. On the flip side, forcing their kid to participate in something bc the guardian likes it, even if the child hates it

Parentifying their child or forcing them to take care of their household in an adult manner, like helping raise the other children, housework above their skill level, paying bills, etc

Lack of privacy. A guardian telling people about something the child doesn't want people to know about. It could be an embarrassing story, it could be about their sexuality, it could be something that sounds harmless

Physical abuse but only while inebriated, and being (what's at least perceived as) a good parent otherwise

Preventing a child from sleeping while they're tired/extreme sleep deprivation

Repeatedly breaking their trust, like not doing things they promised they would do, saying things they don't mean, bring people who don't like their child around their child, ect

Name calling

Feel free to add your own, or hop into my askbox !! It is always open !!

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ganondoodle · 11 months ago

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some random ideas for the totk rewritten project

krog (korok) seeds

i think i found a way to include krog seeds even if i reintroduced bags for expanding your inventory- what if the krog seeds are redeemed for the amiibo sets and maybe a few new things? that way you are not forced to engage with krog puzzles if you are tired of them and its not essential either, you can choose what armor set you want instead of being "surpised" by the same link hat three times in a row for fighting your way through the depths (like i was lol)

considering im rewriting the krog forest to be like a minidungeon with a unique miniboss and boss AND you start the quest for restoring the master sword there i think that this is acceptable

what if one of the expensive rewards was a krog armor set that includes the mask from the botw DLC but adds two more pieces, its effect could be to turn invisible as the krogs are to most people; considering how they are not invisible to everyone it could still work with important NPCs still seeing you AND you could run through monster camps without them chasing you if you just want to get through without you attacking them- since its expensive you gotta gather alot of krog seeds to buy it meaning it wouldnt make encounters much easier bc you have to fight alot of monsters before being able to afford it anyway and the effect is removed once you attack an enemy .... or maybe once you are spotted you can stand still and the effect restores itself nhfkjdnkjfdk

food + storage

to raise the difficulty a little i thought about bringing bottles back, they are physical items this time with a limited number and are able to store medicine and soup that has no expiration date; personally i like cooking tho so i want to keep it, maybe with the effect of being a bit more limited in number and, while not spoiling completely, it loses some of its effectiveness over time

how you use them im not yet sure, either the same way in inventory (which i think i will go for since i dont want to change it that drastically and with the added balance of limitation i think that is still fine) or on some kind of item wheel you can set yourself like in skyward sword

there are bags you can find as bigger items that will expand your weapon, shield or bow inventory slots, perhaps a small bag gives you one and a big one two slots- it would be a bigger and different reward for exploring or quests and fills the spot for inventory expansion

theres a chest in links house (i thought maybe links house is still links but they built onto it so zelda has a place to stay as well, like a bigger/double house) that can hold armor sets if you dont want to keep carrying all of them around but dont want to sell them either

repairable weapons through zelda

weapons still break but are full weapons again, i found the excuse of them all being useless now through the cataclysm ... somehow for some reason a pretty blatant way for forcing you to fuse stuff bc its literally the only viable thing to do, but i like the idea of inventing new weapons with materials; to balance it out and give you an incentive to help out your friends i figured that at first weapons still break, but in each region is a smith that can teach zelda (who is your companion in this rewrite) how to repair weapons of a certain type (zora, spear, goron, two handed, rito, bows, gerudo, one handed-- perhaps it is a longer quest of idk .. bringing certain weapons to those smith or similar) which she can do anywhere outside combat;

how broken the weapon is determines how much extra material she may need to do it- im still working on it but i got the idea of the status of the weapon being symbolized in three stages, fine, damaged and broken; damaged is the one that needs less material to fix up, broken costs more- a broken one might still occupy an inventory slot but is unusable or very very bad damage wise, you can throw it away either manually or when you try to pick up a new one you can choose if you want to swap it out (just like they did with stuff from chests in totk .. idk why they didnt add that to in game weapons lying on the ground too) or choose to keep it and repair it once you are out of combat

arrow types

i dont like the menuing in totk for the arrows ... it was one of the most frustrating things to deal with (especialyl bc it sorted your inventory too??? when you used the sorting in the quick menu???) so i wanted to change that a little, havign to go into the quick menu everytime for each arrow i find tedious too, so;

there are more arrow types but they are craftable with arrows and materials, you can craft them in bulk out of combat (the typical types from botw -fire,eletric,ice,bombs- but then add those confusion ones, wind, the cloudy shroom thingy, poison .. perhaps a few more if i can think of more but not too mayn to not clutter it again)

enigma stones function

i wanted to change how enigma stones function somewhat, they dont "enhance" the ability of the champion/sage (i still wanna call them chmapions bc thats what they areeeee) it allows them to link an ability of theirs to link without the orginal champion having to be present or dead, the stones come in set of two each and function somewhat like a magic communication between the player and the champion, once you obtain the second piece its embedded into links shiekah arm prosthetic (also something of my rewrite) and allow him to call upon their ability at will through a second selection wheel

ranch ruins

the ranch ruins i wanted to be rebuild (bc thats cool and i thought restoration was a theme? lol) and maybe you help rebuild it proper and as thanks you can put your horses there to roam around all at once when not taken out to ride, not a big gameplay thing but a neat quest with a rebuilding thing of a building we havent seen in its prime and a neat addition of letting you see all your horsies at once :)

(totk rewritten project)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rewrites totk #kinda random ideas thrown around but i kinda like this direction #makign it all a little more streamlined while not removing too much of its core #also adressing some issues from botw #while also giving them a little more substance #ngl im actualyl thinking of omitting the building aspect as a whole ........#its impressive for sure but i dont know if this kind of game is truly the best place for that #i hoenstly think all those ideas are both really cool- work well and would have been doable with that time and money nintendo got #i dont want to be too proud of myself though so im open for constructive feedback on what you think about this #(´。＿。｀)

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cyber-phobia · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I need help looking for a fic, this is a long ask so sorry about that! I'm really desperate to find this fic so I wanna give out as many details as I can remember.

Even if it's deleted it would help a lot of any of you at least had a name or author, as I can try and search for an archive.

Here are some warnings just in case:

// Suicide mentions, child abandonment mentions

I don't exactly remember how the fic started, but I remember that Inko is neglectful in this fic. Hisashi goes to America bc of Izuku's quirklessness, and while he and Inko stay married, as they still love each other, he just wants nothing to do with Izuku. Inko stays but after a while Hisashi starts sending her care packages, with letters he wrote over the years, plushies all that stuff.

She eventually decides to move with Hisashi, but leaves Izuku behind bc "Izuku is old enough to take care of himself" (He's like 14-16?). She pays the apartment's rent and send money for food and such but Izuku stays alone and it affects him badly.

Inko and Hisashi live very happily in America and pretend they don't have a son, but one day Hisashi loses his job and they're forced to make budget cuts, which includes Izuku. They send less and less money to the point where Izuku has to get a job, and then eventually they cut him out.

Izuku due to the very limited money was not able to afford High School and instead started working at a grocery shop, but due to his depression, he ends up losing his job due to not showing up in a week I think?

He decides that he's just tired. Its just not worth it, he will be kicked out soon, so he commits suicide in the bathtub.

That's where the first part of the story ends

If it helps someone identify the fic, then part 2 is:

After finding out Izuku is dead, Inko and Hisashi decide to go back to Japan to make the processes needed. They get Izuku cremated and buy a cheap space in an urn cemetery thing. They don't even put up a photo, just a plaque and the urn.

They go to the Bakugo's to inform them what happened, as they will be going back to America right after. Hisashi is very pissed and doesn't care for Izuku, while Inko feels a little remorse and admits she was a bad mother (She specifically tells Mitsuki "We were bad parents), but otherwise is just ready to leave too.

The Bakugo's had thought Izuku had gone to America with his mom, so they never checked on him, and are obviously pissed about what happened. Inko and Hisashi leave and Katsuki is very upset.

He goes to the cemetery where they put Izuku and feels sad about how barren the whole thing is. Katsuki brings a photo to decorate it a little.

I don't remember what he does later but he shares Izuku's story somehow and it gets popular, with people leaving gifts for Izuku in his grave. It gets to the point that even All Might hears about it and in his small form, visits Izuku to pay his respects.

This part ends in a somewhat happy note talking about how Izuku's grave is filled with the hero merch he loved.

That's it as far as I'm aware. I would really really appreciate any details from this story please!! I can look for an archive myself if it's deleted, I just need a name and/or author.

Thank you so much and I'm sorry for the long post I'm just desperate.

#fic search #bnha fic

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pedroshotwifey · 10 months ago

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Favorite Bounty chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader

Chapter word count: 7.3k

Chapter summary: Being on the run is harder than you thought...

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, canon-typical violence, cliffhangers bc I like chaos, stuff I'm forgetting

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so, so sorry this took so long to get out! I think I had gotten used to writing shorter fics, so doing a long chapter was just kind of a pain for me. I'm super happy to get this updated though. Gonna go ahead and say that this will likely be a short series with less than ten chapters purely because of the length of each one, but that's not set in stone. If this is your first time reading this series, there are four parts before this! <3

****

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd once you step off the Crest. Mando had landed fairly close to the open market but, unfortunately, a good bit away from the spaceport. You immediately get sucked into the throng of people browsing the shops, your heart pounding hard against your ribs. The only thought that settles your ridiculous pulse is that you must be pretty damn hard to find mixed in with this lot. Though, of course, you know Mando, and you know that if he really wanted to spot you, he would. Bounty hunting fucking bastard.

You can't help but look over your shoulder every couple of minutes. Each time you do so, you fully expect to see Mando trailing behind you, cuffs in hand. You choose to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest when you think about him—about how easily he betrayed you. It didn’t even seem like he gave it a second thought. You curse yourself for dwelling on the issue and shake your head. You can't afford to waste time on facts you have already accepted.

You stumble as a man knocks into your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and making you lose your balance. You narrowly miss running into a woman holding hands with a young boy as you struggle to keep yourself up. You flash her a sorry look in response to her dirty one. You really need to figure out where you’re supposed to be going. You’re unfamiliar with Nevarro’s layout so you have no idea what direction you should go.

You walk straight for a few minutes before you decide that isn’t going to get you anywhere. This part of the planet is so ridiculously congested that there's no point in even moving your feet if you don’t have a set path. There's no telling which way you might be swept. kriff, a few minutes from now, you might realize that you had been traveling in a circle, and hadn’t even noticed.

Deciding that you would like to avoid such a circumstance, you push your way out to the side of the crowd so you can find somewhere to get a better view. You have to be quick about it—you know you’re low on time as it is, you can’t waste precious seconds trying to figure out a game-plan. You need to come up with a quick and easy route in a quick and easy fashion.

Fortunately, as you push your way out of the heated blob of people, you spot a building that looks easy enough to get on top of. It's not super high up, so you won’t attract any unwanted attention, but it’s just tall enough for you to be able to spot the space-port.

You figure it’s the best plan you’re going to be able to think of for now, so you quickly scramble to the side of the building, stopping in front of the ladder that goes all the way up to the top. Grabbing the first wrung, you begin to climb up, glancing back every now and out of paranoia. Of course, Mando’s never there, but you can’t help but check just in case.

On the roof, you find that it’s easy—just as you suspected—to spot the port over the thousands of people. You easily map out a path before rushing back down the ladder. It shouldn’t take too long to get to the port, most of the roads you picked out were clear of people for the most part.

Once your feet are back on the ground, you take off toward the first turn in your plan. It looks pretty busy, but from here it should be smooth sailing.

You become part of the market crowd the second you turn onto the street. Your jaw drops at the sight of so many people in one place. And you had thought there had been a lot of people around the crest… that was nothing. It definitely didn’t look like that many people from above.

The throng of people is quick to take you into its embrace as you hastily make your way into the streets filled to the brim with shops. Everywhere you look, there is some kind of cart or stand offering some kind of merchandise. You ignore it all as you try to push your way through the crowd.

It’s a bit hard to do when there are vendors shouting in your ear and popping out in front of you, making you stop briefly as they shove their product in your face. You resist the urge to push people out of your way. You really don’t have the time—or patience—for this right now, but you don’t need to draw unwanted attention.

You look for signs posted with directions, letting them guide you until you’re able to push your way out of the main strip and into a less crowded street. You let out a breath of relief as you take in your surroundings, noticing the port close by. It’s not a straight shot, but it should only take you another few minutes or so.

You try to stay discreet as you cling to sides of buildings and use hanging awnings for cover. It’s surprisingly hard to act nonchalant and unsuspicious if you’re trying too hard to do so. Having a price on your head is a real pain in the ass.

Adrenaline starts to sneak into your system as you grow close enough to the ships to decide which one to take. You need to be quick and choose one that will be leaving within the next few minutes. You know well enough to be aware of the fact that security will start to check passengers if there’s word of an escaped bounty. You can feel your breath starting to grow thinner and your body getting hotter.

There’s a passenger ship near the back of the port. It seems smart enough to catch something like that so you don’t seem like you’re, well, on the run. You look around again before starting that way, breezing past people to find the line for tickets. You cross your fingers that there will be spots available on such short notice.

As you approach the stand, you discover that there are only a few people waiting to purchase a seat. By the time you’re standing still, there’s only one person in front of you. A warm feeling rushes through your body, making you almost light-headed. You’re so close to escaping. Nobody ever does that.

“Next!”

You take a breath as you step up, trying to calm your nerves.

“Hi, I need to get one ticket to…” you glance at the sign hanging from the stand. “Coruscant.” You wince internally. That probably isn't the best place to go in this situation, but at least you’ll be off of this planet.

The woman looks at you skeptically, obviously confused by why you didn’t even know where the ship would be going. You flash her what you hope is a disarming smile as she squints and tells you your total none-the-less.

You quickly swing your bag around and unzip it, pulling out your money. You’re handing it over when you hear your name called from behind you.

Your heart drops to your ass as you turn, wide eyed, to see Mando running full speed at you. You don’t even have a second to think before you’re running too, scanning the area in front of you for an escape route.

Curses repeat themselves endlessly in your panicked mind as you spy a ship getting ready to depart. It’s beat up and seedy looking, but it’s also likely your only chance. With one more glance behind you, you turn sharply to the left and make a bee-line for your escape.

You try to focus on your breathing instead of the Mandalorian quickly gaining on you. The ship you’re headed toward is already starting to descend, and you just about triple your efforts.

You hear your name again, and it makes you wince. A dull throb starts in your chest. Being this close in proximity with Mando again, but now as official enemies, hurts in a way you didn’t think was possible.

You’ve been betrayed before, but not in such an intimate way. The fact that he pretended to have genuine interest in you—to engage in sexual acts with you—when he knew the entire time that he would be turning you in for a reward, digs deep into your chest like a rusted knife.

Tears are obstructing your vision before you can deny them, but you push through until you’re only a few feet away from your ship. The gangplank is still open about halfway, but it should be enough for you to squeeze through by the time you reach it. It’s maybe five feet in the air right now, so it’s going to be tough to get up there.

Mando is only a few feet behind you now. You lunge for the plank with everything you have, and your fingers grasp on by just a few inches, the jagged metal stinging as you pull up enough to get both arms up.

You look at the ground, seeing Mando coming to a stop from where you just jumped. You’re up too high now for him to jump after you, but you forget he has his jetpack until it comes to life. You scramble up the plank as it continues closing to avoid getting cut in half.

In the end, it’s your only saving grace. You and Mando are able to see each other face to helmet briefly before you’re closed inside, and you make sure to let him see the raw anguish on your face before it does so. You almost wish he had that stupid helmet off so you could see for yourself if the asshole has any kind of remorse.

A shuddering breath escapes from your lips as you wipe your tears. You turn around on your knees to examine the ship. It’s dark, dingy, and smells absolutely horrid. There’s no crew in sight, to your absolute relief.

Resisting the urge to gag at the stench, you begin to crawl quietly away from the closed hatch. There are crates everywhere, taking as much floor space as possible and stacked as high as they can go. You’re confused for a moment as to why there needs to be so much product on board, but then a heavy realization dawns on you.

These chests are filled with spice.

You’ve seen these come in at your job at the junkyard. Old ones that had surpassed any kind of use for runners. Never in your life though, have you ever seen so many in one place. You absentmindedly hold your breath as you crawl forward, trying to find a place to hide.

You stop in your tracks when you hear laughter coming from the cockpit—at least two men.

Shitshitshitshitshit

There’s no getting out of this if you’re discovered. Your heart races in your chest as fear overtakes your body. You really can’t seem to catch a fucking break, can you?

You look around frantically until you see a small space toward the ceiling. It’s partially covered by a crate, which will make it harder to get to, but better for hiding. You scootch to the end of the crate you’re currently behind, peeking your head out just enough to make sure the hull is clear.

As soon as you’re in the clear, you bolt as quickly and quietly as you can toward the concealed space. As you approach, you map out the notches and grooves you’re going to use to climb up there.

Step by shaky step, you pull yourself up, ignoring the stinging cuts in your hands and forearms from the plank. They’re not very deep or wide, but the strain on them hurts almost just as much.

The crate at the top wobbles as you put all of your weight on it, the entire stack swaying slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you mutter a silent prayer. It’s much too precarious for your liking as you swing one leg onto the edge of the cubby. You’re way too close for this plan to fail now.

You’re only able to take a full breath once your entire body is safely tucked within the small space. It’s cozy, barely enough room for you to sit comfortably. You don’t even think it’s big enough to lay down if you wanted to.

Chatting and laughter continues from the front of the ship as you slowly pull the crate in front of you to conceal you better. It’s heavy as hell and you have to nudge it inch by inch so as to not make a screeching sound against the one below it.

Once you’re satisfied with the placement, you lean back against the cold metal wall behind you. Now that the exhaustion is beginning to seep into your bones, you can’t help but think that the feeling reminds you of sitting in the Razor Crest.

You don’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks now. You deserve to cry after the week you’ve had.

****

You realize much too late that you have no idea where this ship could be going, nor how long it’s going to take to get there. You have food and water in your bag, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to go about your other…needs.

Thankfully, it seems that the destination is close enough to only be in hyperspace for what you assume was about half the day. You’re half asleep when you feel the tell-tale jerk of the ship coming out of it. It startles you enough to wake up the rest of the way, and you silently scold yourself for letting your guard down for so long—though you can’t remember exactly when you last got some decent sleep.

The ship rattles as it cuts through the atmosphere of whatever planet it’s dropping this shit off at. The thought crossed your mind at one point that you could have possibly inhaled some of the spice lingering in the air.

How great would that be? Trying to plead guilty of whatever crime you supposedly committed and then failing a drug test. Really screams “I’m innocent!” You roll your eyes, tired of your brain making up scenarios to throw you through more hoops.

The ship stops rattling after a moment, and you can feel the glide as it lowers to the ground. The crates rattle once again as the ship plants itself. The walls of the craft creak and groan as a swaying starts, which is strange considering you’ve definitely landed.

The motion makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s almost a welcome distraction from the fact that you’re about to piss yourself. You need to find a way off of this death-trap before one of the runners discovers you.

You hear the gangplank starting to lower, and as it does, a gust of heavy rain pushes into the hull. A cold spray hits your face, making you flinch and cover yourself with your arm. From the sliver of scenery you can see, the sky appears to be dark, but not enough so for it to be night.

You’ve heard about places like this; planets that storm every day of the year and never see the sunlight. They’re usually only used for fishermen, junk yards, and spots for spice traders to meet up. Which absolutely makes sense at the moment.

You back into the cubby as much as you can, making yourself scarce as two men walk out of the ship and into the dreadful weather. They appear to be dressed for it, both of them wearing rubber boots and thick raincoats. You watch them until they’re out of sight, and then wait a few minutes before climbing back down to the floor.

You get low, bending enough to be concealed by the chests until you get to the opening of the ship. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing that there’s no threat anywhere near at the moment. You’re so sick of luck not being on your side. This is definitely a welcome change.

The rain is bone-chilling as you step out into it, immediately soaking you. It’s so thick that you can barely see in front of you. A couple buildings are within view every couple of seconds when there’s a break in the sheets of rain due to the heavy wind. With no other options, you decide to head that way.

As you trek through the unforgiving storm, you can’t help but compare the way the fat drops of water hit your face to being cut by shards of glass. Though even if you were being cut, you would never be able to tell with how fast the blood would be washed from your numb skin.

When you reach the closest building, you don’t waste a second before pushing the door open. The loud atmosphere of a cantina immediately welcomes you into its warmth. Despite the heat, you still shiver as you make your way through the main room and to the back. You rush into the bathroom and wait until a stall empties.

As you wait, you get a couple strange looks, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. You just want to pee and find some directions to get the hell out of this place.

****

When you get out of the restroom, you spot an empty stool wedged between a burly looking man with a beard and a plump woman who seems to have had one or a dozen too many. Every other spot is full, so you hop up and lean forward, trying to catch the bartender’s attention.

She works quickly, cleaning glasses in between serving replacements and taking orders. It takes a moment for her to come your way, but when she does, you have her full attention.

“What can I get you, hon?”

The bartender is a clean but busy looking woman with frizzy hair and a stained apron. You clock the kindness in her eyes immediately, and decide to put your trust in her. She looks like one of those women who would offer up a pad or tampon even if it was her last one.

“Hi, uh, I’m actually not looking for a drink,” you say, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You’re not sure if it’s there due to the cold, the exhaustion, or the anxiety. “Can you tell me–”

You stop talking when the woman purses her lips and shakes her head.

“Sorry, babe, I can’t hear you over this damn ruckus,” she gestures to the people around you, and then points to a corner where you assume the entrance to the bar is. “Meet me right there.” At least she can tell you’re not here to party.

You slide down from your stool and squeeze your way to where she pointed. She’s already there when you get there. She’s taken her apron off, which confuses you slightly.

“Hey, I–”

“Honey, you need to get out of here,” she cuts you off, hanging up her apron.

“What, why?” You ask through your stomach dropping. She flashes you a sympathetic look and you return a defeated one. You’re so fucking tired. How long are you going to have to put up with this shit?

“Bounty Hunter’s Guild just sent out a high stakes bounty warning. Picture looked just like you, babe.” She raises her eyebrows and gives you a pointed look.

You nod at her. Great, so not only do you have pucks out for any hunter that’s willing to find you, but every being in the galaxy has gotten an alert to look out for you.

“Yup, That would be me.”

“Mhm, figured. C’mon, let's get you out of this place. I’ve got somewhere you can stay until you can get off-world.” She exits from behind the bar and takes your hand, attempting to pull you with her.

You give her a wary look, confused as to why she’s helping you.

“How do I know you’re not turning me in?”

“Humor me for a second, just come outside at least. Please?” She stops and looks at you, a pleading look in her eyes.

You lick your lips but decide to follow her. It really doesn’t seem like she wishes you any harm, but you can’t be sure—you never would have thought Mando would, after all. Just outside, like she said. No further until she spills.

You allow her to pull you back the way you came, into the rain, and then down an alley next to the bar. There’s a flickering street lamp tucked under an awning between the two buildings, which the two of you huddle beneath.

“Look, I’m gonna make this quick,” the woman says before you have a chance to speak. She pauses and watches you intently. You nod at her, signaling for her to continue.

“I know how this bounty hunting shit is. My sister was hunted for a good while because she was seen outside the scene of a robbery. She was just a pedestrian, but she got taken in and questioned pretty thoroughly and then ended up spending a few nights in a cell. It’s fucked, to put it simply.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” you tell her, your voice cracking just slightly as you shake your head. She gives you that same sympathetic look from the bar.

“I know. I read the reasoning for your bounty. It was bantha-shit.”

“Great,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re well aware that 90% of the population doesn’t care about that—all they’ll see is the pay for turning you in.

“There’s a place on the outside of the city, it’s been abandoned for a couple years. I’m pretty sure the heat and water are still connected, but nobody ever goes there. It’s an outdated complex. You okay with staying there for a bit?”

You nod at her, not knowing what else to say. Maybe a thank you? She’s talking again before you get the chance to do that though.

“Alright, you stay here for just a second,” she instructs before running back into the bar. You lean up against the building, listening to the rain as you let out a shuddering breath. The woman is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a piece of paper in her hand.

“These are the instructions to get there from here,” she says, grabbing your hand and shoving the paper into it. “I’m here if you need me, but please don’t try anything if you don’t have to.”

You look at her, and then the paper, studying the scratchy writing.

“Thank you, really,” you tell her. She just nods and releases your hand with a tight-lipped smile.

“Be safe, hon,” she says before ducking back into the bar.

The trek to the safe house is absolutely miserable. Everything on your body is soaked down, and the paper the woman gave you was starting to fall apart. You had to keep ducking under buildings and awnings to memorize what you could of the directions.

You’re glad you did, because by the time you reach the place, the paper is non-legible. The building itself is pretty isolated. It appears to have been apartments at one point, but is now just a tall junkyard. There’s piles upon piles of trash around it, but you suppose that only gives more of a reason for people to not go inside.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You run up to the first door you see, and curse when you try to pull it open. It’s locked, of fucking course.

You walk around to the side of the building until you see a window that’s not boarded up. Your palms slip against it as you try to get some leverage to push it up, but with some persistence, it comes loose. You almost fall when it springs up, but at least it’s towards the room inside.

You glance behind you one more time before pushing yourself in. You close the window behind you and take a deep breath as the deafening storm is somewhat quitened. It’s cold in the room you find yourself in, but it’s far better than being out in that shit.

Looking around, you spot a stove surrounded by counter space, hanging cabinets, and a small, round table accompanied by four outdated chairs. Definitely a kitchen. There’s what appears to be a hall to your right. You walk toward it, trying to hold back your shivering.

It’s not super long, but you notice how eerily quiet it is as you walk though. On the other side, there’s a room with a bed and a couch. There are three doors, which you can only assume lead to a bathroom, a closet, and the main hall of the building.

You open the first door, which goes out into the hall. It sends a gust of even colder air into the room, making your teeth chatter as it envelops your wet body. You look left and right, and then reluctantly step into the freezing hallway. It’s dark as shit, but the occasional uncovered window allows enough—albeit dim—lighting to lead you toward the stairwell.

There’s a sign tacked on the wall there, and you sigh with relief as you spot the directions to the maintenance room. That must be where you can flip the heat on. It’s not far, just down the first staircase and down the hall a little. Without the windows, the room is even darker than the rest of the building.

You mutter a curse under your breath, figuring that your best bet is going to be blindly running your hands around the walls until you find a switch. You put your hands out and start to glide them slowly left to right, and then up and down until you find an abnormality in the wall.

You shudder, trying to ignore the cobwebs that have accumulated on the panel which are now sticking to your hands. As long as they’re not spiders, it’s okay. You hesitantly flip the first one, and then the second. Nothing happens in your area, but you swear you hear a click come from one of the floors above you.

In quick succession, you flip the rest of the switches, and a light finally comes above you once you reach the second to last one. You huff out a breathy laugh at your luck. Now that you aren’t in total darkness, you can clearly see the other panels around you, along with their labels.

You flip the switch for water, and then another for heat. A low humming starts above you as you do so, indicating that at least the latter is working.

A piping hot shower and half a ration bar later, you’re laying on top of a bed under a heater, still trying to warm up. You feel the most relaxed you have since you found your bounty puck, although it still isn’t enough to fall asleep without keeping an eye open. Eventually, though, the humming from the heating system lulls you enough to fall into a half-sleep.

****

You spend three days on what you’ve learned is Attera Bravo before you run out of luck. Word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter is quickly spread, and you catch wind of such as you pay a visit to town for more rations. The panic which had ebbed away after the last few days is suddenly back in full force.

You really thought you would have a second to catch your breath, but you’re quickly learning that there is no such thing when there’s a price on your head. While you’re in town, you pick up a few rations on the outskirts, and that’s it. You had wanted to find a rain jacket on your trip, but you decide not to risk being in town for too long.

So you begin to make the trip back to the safe house without a cover from the cold, biting rain. It sucks ass, but it’s better than carbonite. Even though you’re on the outskirts, you still hug the sides of buildings as you make your exit. Your head keeps snapping towards the slightest movements; a flickering street lamp, a closing door, a flash of far away lightning.

You break off into a sprint as soon as you’re a few feet away from the cover of the nearest building. You don’t look back as you push yourself, not wanting to risk slowing down. All you can see is the terrifying image of Mando catching up with you like he did on Nevarro.

You glance at the spaceport as you run past, seeing if you can get a glimpse of the Razor Crest. You don’t see it, but that’s probably for the best. There’s no mistaking that the Mandalorian bounty hunter the town’s people are talking about is your Mandalorian bounty hunter, but seeing the Crest would probably crack something within you. That would mean that the kid is likely with him, and you can’t afford to think about him right now.

You can hear your heavy breaths over the sound of the rain, and you choose to focus on that instead of the icy chill. You try to take breaths in through your nose to calm yourself, but you just get a nose full of water, so you scratch that and continue your panicked breaths through your mouth.

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in–

Your breath hitches. There’s a buzz coming from behind you, steadily growing louder. You spare a glance over your shoulder, and you can just make out the headlights of what looks to be a speeder bike. The pathetic “no” that leaves your mouth would be extremely embarrassing if anyone were around to hear it.

You try to pick up your pace, but almost trip with your effort. The bike is getting closer, you don’t have to look again to know. There’s no way you’re going to outrun it. You have an idea, but it’s going to be risky. You grit your teeth, thinking it over, and decide that the risk is better than definitely getting caught.

You stop suddenly, just for a second, until the bike is almost to you. Then you turn around, seeing Mando atop it, only a bit away. He didn’t anticipate your stop, and doesn’t register the fact that he needs to slow down until you’re running past him and back toward town.

You don’t get much of a head start, but luckily the space port is still close enough that it’s not absolutely necessary. As soon as you’re close enough, you dive around a crate to get out of the way of the speeder. Mando arrives right behind you, quick to hop off it and start on foot after you.

You make your way to where you remember the ship you came on had landed. The last time you passed here, you remember seeing the gangplank open. Either they make routine stops, or they’re here for a while. Either way, it means that your escape will be aided by the same ship that helped you the first time.

By some incredible luck, it’s still there. There’s a group of relatively shady people gathered a few yards away from it, standing under a wing of another ship, but you’re getting used to dealing with shady things at this point. You run past them, not intending to stop until you’re alone without the threat of Mando.

Without stopping to turn around or even check if there are people in the ship, you run up the plank, slamming your palm over the button to close it behind you. You hear a couple panicked “Hey”s from behind you, which you can only assume is the protests of the guys who own this ship. You run into the cockpit, which is thankfully empty.

You start to flick switches and pull knobs, everything you can try to get this thing off the ground in the fastest amount of time. If you learned anything on the Crest, it’s how to work a ship’s panel. You hear pangs coming from the closing door, and look out the window to see that half of the group from earlier has run off, and are likely the source of the sound.

You looked out just in time to see your Mandalorian coming to a stop in front of the other half of the group, who are blocking him from getting further toward you. You huff out a tiny laugh. Take that, asshole. The ship starts to ascend just as Mando throws his first punch.

****

Once you’re back into space, your heart gets the memo that it can stop working overtime. You decide you’ll just cruise for a bit while you figure out where the best place to go would be—assuming Mando will be occupied with his opponents below for a moment. It needs to be somewhere pretty isolated and unknown for the most part, but also not painfully obvious.

You consider going back to Jakku for a moment, but scratch that idea quickly. You would for sure be turned in by someone there. And besides, Mando would look there eventually.

You sigh and lean back in the outdated pilot’s seat, staring at the stars around you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this view. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it almost makes you forget everything you’re dealing with right now. A lump catches in your throat at that thought.

You really don’t understand how you’re going to get through this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running; that’s no life at all. To be in constant fear of being caught, never being able to settle down, never able to make connections. It genuinely makes you sick to your stomach.

You lean back and put one hand over your eyes as you try to think about what your next step is. It also needs to be somewhere where you can get more supplies. You need more clothes since all yours have been pretty weathered by the constant rain. You’re also going to need money at some point.

How are you going to do that? Something tells you that you won’t be able to just snag a job along the way. You sit forward in your seat again, shaking your head. The air con on the ship has kicked on, hitting your drenched body and making your teeth chatter as you pull up the navigation system to browse nearby planets.

You’re only pressing the first button when the ship suddenly jolts, a crashing sound coming from the back. It scares the shit out of you, your hand clutching tightly to your chest as you spring up out of your seat and look behind you.

An alarm sounds, frightening you more as you realize that you’ve just been hit. The impact didn’t seem like enough to do a lot of damage, but you have no idea how to work the cannons on this thing—if there are any cannons at all. Judging by the looks of this thing, if it is equipped with a weapons system, it’s likely out of date and of no use to you.

You speed up and grab the steering to quickly turn to the right, trying to get out from in front of the offending ship. Maybe if you can get behind them and far enough away, you’ll be able to get into hyperspace. It seems that your best bet is going to be running. You’re sensing a bit of a pattern at this point.

You grit your teeth as the ship tilts slightly with the momentum of your turn. A couple of left over bins in the hull spill over, making you wince at the crashing sounds. There’s suddenly a sweet smell, and you close your eyes briefly as you pray that there wasn’t any spice in those crates.

It was only for a split second, but when your eyes open, you’re face to face with another small craft. You swerve again to keep out of its way. As you do so, another pops up in your path, and then another, each of them coming out of hyperspace in quick succession.

Your heartbeat picks up with your panic as you realize you’re surrounded. You can’t see behind you, and there’s no way to go forward. There’s got to be at least five or six of them, and they’re probably carrying between at least four to eight people a piece. They could take you out right now if they wanted.

Gulping down your anxiety, you do the most rational thing you can think of in the moment, and reluctantly slow down to a gentle drift. As the ships come in closer with your surrender, you think ahead. If they take you onto one of their ships, you might be able to—

Your train of thought is stopped as you get an alert of an incoming transmission on the dash. You breathe out a shaky breath and press the button to accept it.

A holo-image of an extremely pissed looking Weequay sprouts from the com. You stand tall and put on a brave face. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You gulp, hoping it goes unnoticed. There’s a sour taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your stomach. You don’t know if you’re getting out of this one.

To make matters worse, the spice that had spilled with your turn is starting to creep up to the cockpit in a thick fog. The rusty-orange looking powder floats higher with every second, the effects quickly making you dizzy.

“Okay, girl,” the rugged looking creature drawls with a weird accent you can’t quite place. “I personally was having a good day today, and I think you should know that, first of all.”

You furrow your brow but don’t interrupt. The creature starts to pace slightly as he speaks in a casual tone.

“Everything was going great, I was making good sales, had deals going for that spice you have in my ship—which I’m sure you’ve discovered at this point. I was just about to have my guys deal with it—and then I got the call that some bitch stole my ship containing the goods. Would you know anything about that, sweetheart?”

You wince lightly at the insulting pet name, a stark difference from the way Mando used to say it. The dust around you is starting to pick up to the point where your eyes are stinging. You wish you could think of something to say back, but all you can focus on is the bile crawling up your throat.

“Hm, I think you would,” he stops to say flatly. “Now, my initial plan had been to force you off my ship and maybe take you out to have a little fun! Told my guys they deserve to have a little treat on me after their hard work the last few days. We’d just need you for a little bit, I’m sure these guys don’t have much stamina if you know what I mean…”

The man continues talking, but you’ve frozen in place. Your stomach twists at his threats, and you suddenly feel the need to throw up. The spice growing thicker around you is definitely not helping that factor.

“...would have been such a good time,” you zone back into the man’s vulgar words. Letting your gaze drift back to him from where it had fallen to the floor. You find yourself wishing for Mando, for the safety you felt as you laid so briefly within his comforting arms. You want to punch yourself for thinking that.

The pirate, obviously annoyed with your lack of response, continues rambling about this inconvenience, but you can hardly hear him through the ringing growing louder in your ears. The truth that you’re finally trapped is just catching up to you.

“Anyways, when I found your bounty poster, I thought just for a second that it must be your lucky day! But then, I figured that whoever wants you probably doesn’t give a shit about what kind of condition you’re in.”

He laughs at the increasingly panicked look on your face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! We won’t go too hard on you now. As long as you cooperate, of course. Just be good for us and we’ll send you to Nevarro without so much as a—”

There’s another crash from behind you, but this time it’s not your ship taking the damage. The man in front of you swivels around, straining to see the source of the sound. His eyes widen, and so do yours when you see the fear in his eyes. You take a step back.

“What the—”

The pirate is cut off again as his ship abruptly explodes right in front of you. His holo-image glitches out as you scream, falling back into your seat. Your ship is knocked back slightly at the same time you feel two other crafts quickly flying by you, chasing the shadow of the one you see above you.

Two ships emerge from either side of you, and your heart skips a beat once you catch a glimpse of the one they’re chasing. You know that ship. Two of the smaller crafts race after the Razor Crest as it trails them away from you.

That doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to anybody today. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you scramble to push the thrusters, planning to get as far away from here as you can. The two ships that aren’t tailing the Crest suddenly change direction to follow you instead. Shit.

You continue forward at full speed, making quick turns and dodges to throw off the idiots behind you. Unfortunately, it’s not working in your favor. You feel your ship jolt as a blast lands on the surface of it. You hear the sound of something powering down.

Your craft slows to about half its speed, making you cry out in frustration. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Crest take out one of the ships that had been pursuing it. Another hit comes to your ship, and this time the hit is so great that you jolt forward and almost hit your head on the dash.

Another one immediately follows, and this time you do slip out of your chair and smack your head on the edge of the panel. Your vision blacks for a second, and you know it has to be at least a small concussion. A ringing starts back in your ears again as your vision blurs slightly. A big flash blinds you momentarily as—at least you assume—Mando takes out the other craft on his trail in front of your ship.

For a second, nothing makes sense. There’s another blow to the side of your craft, and then one more, one right after the other. You get rocked back and forth forcefully, only making you more confused. There’s too much going on at once for you to process; time’s moving too slowly and the spice is making you hazy and the alarm’s too loud and there’s another big crash and muffled explosion as another ship is annihilated.

You scramble, trying to stay up straight as you use your chair to push yourself up. You need to find a way to get out of here before you’re left alone with Mando. Does the hyperspace still work on this thing? Too bad you won’t find out, because as you reach for the dash, you get sent forward and smack your head again. This time, everything goes black.

***** Thank you for reading!! I'm going to try to have another part out in a few weeks!! I'm also making a taglist for this series if anyone would like to join.

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