#now I've drawn the whole crew at least once this year!

[mayaruffin]

Hello all,

I’ll try to keep this brief but this IS a stream-of-consciousness so don’t get your hopes up 😅.

First, I’ll introduce myself: My name is Maya. I’m 25 years old. I’ve been a fan of The Rookie since early 2022. And what I’m about to say is in NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM an insult to ANY of the cast or crew (save for maybe Alexi Hawley). But I need to get this off my chest and since I have no IRL friends that watch/care about The Rookie, I’m posting my thoughts here.

Now I’m no wordsmith (I majored in mathematics) so what I’m about to say probably won’t be as succinct and/or poised as some of the other posts I've seen on here discussing the same topic. But the writing for Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen is abysmal, abhorrent, and any other synonym you can think of. And 5x12 is when it all started going downhill.

What I’ve always been drawn to with Chenford, other than their uber-attractiveness, is the fact that they have never, at least in the first four seasons, beat around the bush with each other. They’ve never been afraid to say whatever it is they need/want to say to each other. I think them having that type of deep relationship with each other as work colleagues made me kind of forget that they don’t really interact outside of work and therefore they were never actually as close as I had them painted in my mind. I think I’ve now realized that that’s why it took THEM so long to realize the attraction we as viewers saw them have for each other from very early on. So it was incredibly mind-boggling to see them constantly go behind each other’s backs and refuse to have the same deep meaningful conversations we’re used to seeing them have with each other once they got together romantically. I, for one, don’t personally think they GOT TOGETHER too fast. I mean, they realized that they both felt something deeper than friendship and acted on it. It’s not that unusual. However, I do feel like they progressed entirely to fast for two people who, again, were never THAT close. I didn’t want to say anything at the time because I, like all the other fans, was just happy to see these two people I had been rooting for finally get together but the whole “grandkids” and “our kids” thing felt very awkward and out of place, especially considering that they’ve since broken up. I just feel like that’s not something you mention, even casually or jokingly, to someone you’ve just started seeing romantically, no matter how long you knew each other beforehand. Now that the lack of quality content we could have seen in Season 5 has been addressed, we can move onto everything wrong with the steaming pile of shit that was Season 6.

I will admit that I have not seen a single episode of The Rookie since 6x06 but I have kept up with it on Twitter and Tumblr, so I have some inklings about what’s been going on since the breakup. But let’s start with episode 1. While I understand that Lucy was under a lot of stress and that the particular part of her personality that expects sometimes too much of herself is a direct result of how her parents treated her growing up, I truly feel that she was unfair to Tim and that he was right to give her space to cool off. Moving onto Episode 2, which by the way was INCREDIBLY overhyped and not AT ALL worthy of being episode 100 (it needed to be said and this is MY stream-of-consciousness) where they again had an opportunity to have a deep, meaningful, adult conversation, they totally butchered it. They have a real elephant in the room in terms of their relationship with her wanting to be UC and his issues with his ex-wife in the same career field and all we got was him saying that he would “deal with it” with “by himself” being heavily implied. The rest of season 6 up until he ghosted her was forgettable (I literally don’t remember what happened) so let’s get into when shit (AKA the writing) REALLY hit the fan and all 5 (four if we’re being honest) seasons of Tim Bradford’s character development went down the drain.

So you mean to tell me at his jurassic age, this man (Tim, if you aren’t following), after Lucy said that a relationship with him that didn’t work out WAS NOT WORTH risking their friendship for, convinced her to enter into a romantic relationship with him and said that he loved her while hooked up to a lie detector in a tone that implied that it was crazy she even had to ask, ghosts her for days, KNOWS that she’s fucking spiraling (calling, texting, leaving voicemails), and then shows up to her apartment talking about “I wanted to see you” as if she was just gonna be cool with that? Fully prepared to not explain his actions in the slightest mind you! That scene pissed me off more than any other scene in season 6. AND THEN HE DUMPS HER WHILE SHE’S STANDING OUTSIDE WAITING FOR HIM READY TO SUPPORT HIM! AND USES THE OLDEST LINE IN THE BOOK TO DO SO! It’s not you, it’s me? Really? Like, the worst writer in the world couldn’t have come up with that bullshit. Why introduce a whole new conflict when they had so many issues to deal with already? It makes no logical sense. If the purpose of seasons 5 & 6 was show us that the two of them don’t know each other as well as they thought or as well as we thought, congratulations you fucking nailed it. And then to top it all off, you have her risking her life to save his ass AGAIN being reduced to “kindness”. Of all the things Alexi has said in post breakup interviews, of all the things Melissa has said in post breakup interviews, of all the things Eric has said in post breakup interviews, none of that has convinced me that Chenford aren’t endgame more so than Tim saying he would pay back all “the kindness [she’s] shown [him]”. What an insult to Lucy and what an insult to dedicated and patient fans. I’m heartbroken by that bullshit and I only started watching 3 years ago. I can’t imagine the pain and heartbreak suffered by people who’ve been rooting for them since 1x01.

Moving onto season 7, which again I haven’t seen, we have lost the plot even more, which I have to say, I didn’t think was possible. I know we’re only 2 episodes into a 20 episode season but good lord what is this writing?! They’ve written Tim to be an emotional manipulator and Lucy to be an emotional punching bag. I have to say I’ve never once considered any of Lucy’s storylines to be trauma porn, even when she was kidnapped by a serial killer. But the writing for her character in these first two episodes is downright offensive. There is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON the two of them should be that chummy with each other after what Tim did her without him having done ANY noticeable work towards bettering himself. All she asked for after he played so viciously with her heart was an adult conversation. Call me crazy but I don’t think that’s THAT much to ask for from someone, especially someone, again, at his jurassic age. And instead of giving her that, he’s all smiley and flirty and “let’s make a bet” with her at work. Now, don’t misunderstand. Lucy is not blameless in this particular situation. While he is being emotionally manipulative, she is without a doubt letting him because why she is acknowledging that bullshit at all is beyond my comprehension. Again, this man has done absolutely no work towards bettering himself. He’s still the same “broken” motherfucker that he was when he broke up with Lucy yet somehow they have this entirely different dynamic? I’m not buying whatever it is they’re trying to sell. And don’t even get me started on the payback line during the food truck scene cuz I don’t wanna touch that bullshit with a ten foot pole. Whoever wrote that can kiss my ass.

All that to say, atp, I really don’t want Tim and Lucy to get back together. Tim was right about one thing: Lucy Chen deserves better. You would think that would mean that he should be better but he clearly doesn’t want to so I feel she should cut her losses and be with someone who appreciates her heart.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[vickyvicarious]

Something I noticed is that Dracula has now resorted to killing his aides when he can to cover up his tracks and make it look like a human did it, he didn't use to do that, so Jonathan kept interviewing them

I suppose it depends to an extent on who you consider Dracula's aides. Because we see him deliberately turn on people who have unintentionally aided him (the Demeter crew), who have been forced to aid him (Jonathan), and who have aided him but then turned on him (Renfield). Jonathan's the only one who gets out alive from that, and it's largely due to Dracula's personal like for him/schedule constraints.

But even if we limit the category to people he has hired to do a job for him and who know who he is, I still think he has done that previously. Or rather, he had plans to do that, or at the very least was prepared to do so as needed. It just depends on what his main goal is at the time. I feel like I've talked about this earlier this year, but I can't find it right now, so let me just restate.

On looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

On May 7, Jonathan notices several key locations marked off on Dracula's map. His arrival to Whitby is marked off, as is his first estate in London. But so is Exeter, where both Jonathan and Hawkins live. Unlike the other circled spots, Dracula never goes to Exeter. So why circle it?

One explanation which at least partially explains this: I think he deliberately chose a lawyer who wasn't based in London, in order to minimize the chances that local people would notice said lawyer going missing and connect it to the latest client arriving in town. Because it is very evident that he always intended to kill Jonathan. The man was not meant to leave the Castle, one way or another. Dracula had his whole letter scheme to disguise that fact and to separate Jonathan's disappearance from the time spent with Dracula (the cover story was obviously 'something happened while traveling home'). But if that failed and Hawkins seemed likely to raise any kind of stink, I think Dracula would have happily gone and killed him. But the man didn't contact him again about Jonathan so he didn't have to bother with that.

Similarly, Dracula doesn't kill any of the people who moved his boxes. But the thing is, that would have drawn way more attention. He didn't know that Jonathan was following his paper trail and interviewing them all, and killing a bunch of people all of whom worked for him would have been way more suspicious than just leaving them alone and hoping no one found out. So that's what he did! Not killing these people was the smarter move as far as he could see, the best way to hide his tracks. No need to have murders associated with him in England; he wants to be an unnoticed predator and to leave behind the place where everyone is onto him. Even if people still think he's human, getting associated with murders isn't a look he wants.

He's thinking long-term when he arrives in London. And he may well still have the idea of coming back and killing people later, when they're no longer so associated with working for him, but certainly in the moment it doesn't make sense to do so. Similarly, it didn't help him when leaving Transylvania. The people who work for him there are either scared enough or willing enough to do what he says, so why deprive himself of this resource in case he needs it in future? There are plenty of others to hunt instead, and no one he needs to hide his tracks from. The Demeter served a function too - first, he wanted a ghost ship so he could get ashore more easily. Second, he probably wanted to tank up before arriving in England so that he could fully use all his powers both to manipulate the weather for the crash and to shift to wolf form to get ashore. Once he's starting killing some of them, better to kill all of them so no one can tell the tale. Also, I bet he wanted to let loose and in the middle of the ocean was a good place to do so without causing any harm to his future plans.

This time around is different. He knows he's being hunted, so he's not worried about drawing attention. It's already on him regardless. All he cares about is hiding the exact information of where he's gone in order to slow them down, and the surest and most convenient way to do that is by killing the man who arranged it for him. So he does.

He is resorting to it, but not necessarily because he's finally driven to it when he normally wouldn't do that, so much as because the situation now makes it a more reasonable choice for him. I think it would have been just as much an option on the table the entire time for him.

[theclearblue]

Hi

Can you rank the Strawhats by most liked to least? Or at least ramble about their characters?

See ya, love u

Hiiii Empa I can always gush about one piece thank you <3 (also im assuming this is my own personal ranking ur asking for and not who i think is most popular in the fandom lol) My ranking changes a lot to be fair and literally love all of them soooo much but currently:

10. Jinbe

He might be at the bottom of my list but I literally cried tears of joy when he joined the strawhats so that's the level we're operating on when I say how much I love all of them. Really the only reason he's on the bottom is because he's had the least amount of time on the crew, but literally one of the coolest characters ever and Oda teasing for YEARS of him joining the crew and him finally getting to!!!! Amazing!!!! Can't wait to see more of him as the series goes on I've already loved his role in Wano and Egghead it's been a treat.

9. Franky

Guy of all time. I WISH Oda gave him more screentime because he's literally so cool!!!!! One of the funniest characters and that is not appreciated enough, has such a good introduction/backstory in Water 7, his relationship with Robin is literally everything to me, and when he does get screentime!!! I am seated!!! People need to love Franky more >:(

8. Chopper

MY SOOOONNNNN I would die for him. His story line about being a monster and coming to embrace it because the strawhats literally love and embrace him as he is, I will cry about it if I think about it for more than two minutes. I felt that he didn't get as many opportunities to shine in post timeskip and then the Wano arc happened!!!! Such a good arc for him and how essential he was to the overall success and how proud everyone was of him!!!!! And how he has full control over his big monster form and utilizes it to help people! Literally love him so much GOD.

7. Usopp

Can u believe there was a time in my life where I didn't like Usopp? Insanity. To be fair his introduction arc is unfortunately the weakest in the series for me, I found him annoying in the beginning. But Usopp is so cool because he is a regular guy, and yet he still overcomes SO much. A lot of speculation that the next arc of One Piece will be HIS arc and I really hope that's the case because every time he gets a chance to shine is some of the times when One Piece is at it's absolute best.

6. Nami

Literally girl of all time I'm so obsessed with her. I know people hate how women are drawn in One Piece but it's honestly made up for me by the fact that almost all the women have such incredible and nuanced writing, and I think how good of a writer Oda is really shines in how he writes Nami. Consistently one of the most interesting and fun characters in the whole series, and the first character to really get the spotlight and people still talk about it as a highlight of the series 20+ years later. No one is doing it like her!!

5. Brook

When Brook was introduced I was not thrilled to get ANOTHER crew member, especially cause it was a dumb talking skeleton, and that seemed just like a gag character. And then 40 episodes later I was literally sobbing over his backstory and character and he's such a good addition to the crew. He also hangs out a little bit more in the background but he's still doing SO MUCH in the background that you can't help paying attention to him. So dorky but also just hits people with profound wisdom every once in awhile?! Brook rocks so hard.

4. Luffy

I never really know where to put Luffy in my ranking, because really he's number one as well (as are really the next three as well, they change in ranking too much for a definitive number one). The perfect protagonist and how he helps people and his own personal development has literally changed me. I never get tired of him, I never find him boring, and he's such a major reason as to why people have stuck around to see this story unfold for 25 years now. He's the character I really don't now how to put into words how much I love him, he's just bigger than life in so many ways.

3. Zoro

He captured my heart at the very beginning and never let go, which is funny cause I thought I would hate him LMAO. Literally the coolest character while also being the absolute silliest, he never fails to make me laugh from his dumbassery. And hes such a simple character with simple motivations, but there's so much to pick apart at the same time somehow. i feel like his words hold so much weight when he's being serious, and even though he's a simple character it doesn't always make him easy to understand unless you REALLY dive into his character. Literally never mad to see him get screentime, I love him so much he was my first favorite character in the series <3

2. Robin

ROOOBBBBIIIINNNN I LOVE HEEEERRRRR. Again was kinda skeptical about why she was joining the crew and not Vivi, but Oda has never let me down when adding a new member to the strawhats, and her story is so great to watch, especially going back with more context and everything she says makes so much sense. I mean her fully becoming a member of the crew is still a series highlight, and I also really like the moments where she relies on the crew and they rely on her and the TRUST!!!! THE LOVE!!!!! Also her sense of humor is so underrated she cracks me up so much I love that she shares a brain cell with Luffy and is so morbid lmao

Sanji

I hate him. His eyebrows are stupid. He acts like an idiot all of the time. There are several instances where he needs to be put in horny jail. Obnoxious, stupid, bratty, and people look at me with disgust when I say Sanji is my favorite character and that I'm insane about him. Oh it's so bad. The way he shows love, how he's a bratty kid with a temper yet also the kindest strawhat, the way he's like a leashed rabid dog but he attached the leash to himself, the way he has so many moments of self sacrifice throughout the series and it's acknowledged as a problem 20 years after he's introduced as a character. He's mentally strong for the ones he loves yet doesn't see any worth in himself. The way his arc centers on blood vs found family. Him being scared of becoming as monstrous as his family. AHHHHHHHHH I HATE HIM I HATE HIM HE MAKES ME INSANE. Anyways that's my favorite character.

[euphreana]

I found an incorrect quotes generator and I am having Fun.

[crown-anon]

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry���it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

[martellthemandalor]

Hey! I've read some of your fics and they're so good! could you do a din X reader one where the reader is a part of dins 'crew' and he keeps offering to teach her to fight but awkwardly declines, and does this until they find another clan of mandalorians and at first they don't like her and question din for having someone 'weak' on his team. And defensively she says she can take down one of their warriors and dins asking her not to do this but during the fight she reveals she's force sensitive?

*Hia darling anon!! firstly thank you so much, that means the world to me :)). secondy i hope this is what you had in mind, i got a little carried away (hello word count of 3.8K+ oops) hence why this has taken a while to get out to you. enjoy! <3

Far From Weak

He wasn’t meant to have found out like this. Hell, he wasn’t supposed to have found out at all. You’d been doing a good job at hiding it so far, though the kid seemed to have sussed you out. Look once into those big eyes and it’s like they knows your deepest darkest secret and it’s terrifying, until they waddle off to swallow a whole frog that is.

You’d been on Mando’s ‘crew’ for a good five months now, initially brought on as a mechanic. A desperately needed mechanic, so you’d noted once you stepped onto the razor crest. In reality there wasn’t much of the actual crest left, parts having been removed and replaced with cheap knockoffs and thrown together amalgamations over the years. There was even an alternator that looked as though it had actually been patched together using a literal medkit.

He’d really downplayed how much the place was falling apart when he hired you, but you didn’t exactly mind. You enjoyed a challenge, and fixing a ship that was falling apart at the seams was certainly that.

Your job had evolved somewhat by month two, the little green baby Mando was caring for had won your heart over. It was like you were drawn to them, finding it impossible to ignore them and all their adorable little traits. You didn’t fully understand why you were feeling so attached to this cute womp rat, not until you caught them with a small outstretched hand in the direction of a levitating silver ball. They had turned to you with a knowing gleam in their face, cooing at you to join the fun. Not that you ever did when Mando was around, of course.

But the days when he wasn’t there? When you knew that he wasn’t coming back for a long time? Then you could play with the child all you wanted. Your games varied, one of their favourites being floating the ball from their little claw to your own hand, in a gentle game of catch. Another was playing guessing games where they had to guess which crate you had put your wrench behind, then lifting it to you. You loved it. It was a chance to flex your skills, to relieve some of the tension of hiding them.

By month four Mando had started asking if you wanted some fight training with him. He knew that life was starting to get more dangerous, he had begun encountering more and more imp scum trying to get the child while he was out hunting quarry’s. The two of you had become rather close these past few months, he’d be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t look forward to seeing the smile that lit up your eyes when he returned from his jobs or the way you eagerly asked for a report on how he captured this bounty.

In fact, the Mandalorian had become rather enamoured with you and with the discovery of these new bounty hunters, wanting to make sure you could keep yourself and the child safe was his next priority, and teaching you to fight would ensure that.

The first time he asked it had been painfully awkward. He had stridden up to and flat out told you he wanted to give you fighting lessons. You were sure it was probably a big deal that he wanted to teach you the fighting techniques of Mandalorian’s, but you knew that you could never accept.

You could hide your force sensitivity when concentrating, ignoring the pull of it on your instincts, but when fighting? There was no way. You literally couldn’t help it. It felt like you could predict what was coming during a fight, which fist they were going to throw at you, which way they were going to dodge round to. He would be able to tell you had the upper hand and if he knows what the kid can do, then it’s hardly going to be a stretch to figure out that you can do it too.

You tried, maker you tried, to be as tactful as possible while turning him down. Telling him that you could take care of yourself, you can handle a blaster and that would be enough if anyone tried to grab the kid while on the crest. He had grunted some form of disappointed response back at you, the likes of which made you feel inescapably guilty.

You had hoped that that would be the only time he would try and ask you, but if there was anything this Mandalorian was, it was most definitely stubborn.

He would present the offer to you pretty much every other day, the question getting more and more demanding as time went on. You knew that he would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to, he wasn’t like that, but you could feel his frustration building with each of your awkward refusals.

Eventually he drew back on any other conversation with you, choosing only to speak when pressing the question to you, outside of that he would only voice short remarks on urgent matters. The only other time you would hear the rough lowness of his speech is when he would speak to the child, you were glad in that respect that at least he was engaging them in some form of conversation.

It went on for days and you were beginning to feel worse and worse. It was strange, he would approach you in the mornings, his voice soft and probing, practically pleading for you to let him teach you and then when you declined you could almost see the frustration pouring out of him.

You weren’t entirely sure why he hadn’t kicked you from the crest yet, a part of you terrified that one morning would be your last, he wouldn’t want to put up with your own apparent stubbornness any more.

If only you could tell him, yell at him that it wasn’t stubbornness, that your survival depended on keeping a secret that was damn near impossible to hide. It didn’t help that Mando wasn’t one for ambiguity. If you revealed you had a secret then maker knows he’d find a way to coax it out into the starlight.

The silence was torture, but it was necessary.

And so you kept quiet, the two of you falling into this routine that satisfied neither party. The atmosphere on the crest became stifling, almost unbearable, even the kid could sense something was wrong though that wasn’t exactly surprising.

You’d arrived on Tatooine, the last stop of this latest run of quarry’s, when Mando finally broke the cycle.

“I need to go to market, would you like to come with me?” The question came out robotic, the words detached from the familiar soft tone of his morning request. To say it threw you off was an understatement, but you eagerly nodded regardless, after all you did have some parts to get to repair a few blown thermal couplings.

Mando was on high alert as you walked through the stalls of the busy market. You could practically feel how tense he was, wound tight and ready to spring at the smallest sign of danger. You watched him from the corner of your eye, saw the way his helmet would lock on to whatever would walk just a little too close to you.

The imposing and dangerous manner in which he presented himself was a stark contrast to the small green eared bundle that he gently cradled in his arm.

The thought that you were the only one who got the privilege of seeing him be truly open and caring with the child made you smile to yourself, a warmth settling in your heart at the notion that he trusted you that much to see him in that way.

Given enough time to fester and that feeling would have quickly turned to guilt. Maybe that would have been better than what happened instead.

As you reached the edge of the market your gaze was caught by a familiar silhouette glinting in the sun. Actually, three familiar silhouettes, all of which had apparently noticed you to and were now making short work of closing the distance between you. Before you even had a chance to open your mouth and alert Mando, you found yourself very carefully situated in his shadow, his hand wrapped lightly round your wrist to keep you behind him.

“Su cuy'gar burc'ya!” (“Hello friend”) The largest of the trio greeted Mando, green helmet nodding at him. Mando nodded back, a slow and exaggerated bob of his head.

“Su cuy’gar,” He replied simply, defensive stance unwavering.

You didn’t like this. You assumed that Mando would’ve been happy to see his creed siblings but it was clear from the slowly tightening grip on your wrist that he truly wasn’t. Something twitched in you, a short tug on your soul to reach out, reassure him that it’s okay without having to say a word. But that would unravel everything you’ve worked to keep hidden.

Instead you twisted your wrist out of his hand, only to quickly replace it with the palm of your own. The response was immediate, his hand curled round yours, fingers locking together.

You gave him a soft squeeze and the affect was akin to throwing a spattering of water onto hot coals, you could almost see some of the tension release from him, hear the gentle hiss of it evaporating away.

“We weren’t expecting any new clan members,” The red painted one speaks this time, his tone almost accusatory. You couldn’t see it, but Mando had clocked the way his visor had fixated on you as he spoke. Unease blossomed in his belly. He could see where this was going.

“We aren’t new clan members, we came on world to pick up supplies and fuel up, we’ll be gone by morning.” He tried to keep his tone as even and final as possible, an inexplicit warning for these three to leave him and his clan in peace.

Green head didn’t get the hint. Instead he strode towards Mando and clapped his hand onto his pauldron.

“Come, you can spend the night at the covert, it’s been a while since any of us have seen fresh blood.” You do catch it this time. Green’s helmet shifts to look at you, the pointedness of it making your heart beat a little faster in your ear. You stare him down though, no way in hell was a faceless look enough to make you back down.

You see rather than hear the deep breath your crew leader makes, shoulders rising and falling steadily. Then he nods his head.

“It would be a privilege to meet more clan siblings,” Mando replied, his helmet dodging in front of Green’s stare. You gave his hand a squeeze, a silent thank you.

-

The journey to the covert had been spent in silence on your part, a rare occurrence given Mando’s aversion to making conversation, often leaving you to fill the gaps. But here he was doing most of the talking, working hard to divert conversation whenever it felt close to being focused on you or the child.

You suddenly got it. Mando wasn’t happy to see them, because of you.

The guilt got worse then, was he embarrassed by you?

Yes Green head had been kind of intimidating when he had stared at you, but it was no different from how you used to feel around your Mandalorian at first.

In the covert things got twice as tense. It felt like every pair of eyes was being trained on you, probably because they were. You were a stranger in their midst, not only that but you were a non-mandalorian in their covert, in their shield from the outside worlds. From people like you.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to what was being said, nor to where you were being lead to, your focus had been on looking straight ahead and answering the squeezes of Mando’s hands with ones of your own.

Only now, when the din of the rest of the covert had been shut out by the closing of a door, did you realise that you had entered a final room. It was empty save for a round table surrounded by straight backed durasteel chairs, a single light hanging low above the set. The room was small, though the lack of decoration made it feel strangely cavernous.

The three other Mandalorian’s had sat down. Red head held his hand out in invitation for you and Mando to sit.

This time you’re the first person to speak.

“Why does this feel like we’re about to be interrogated?” You commented, eyebrow raised at the three visors sat stoically across from you.

“Maybe because we are,” Mando muttered beside you.

“Nonsense,” It was the first time you’d heard the purple helmeted one speak. It surprised you how soft their voice was. “We simple need to know what your situation is before we take you to the armourer.”

“Situation? What the hell does that mean?” You asked, gaze flickering between the three Mandalorians, making sure they each got a healthy dose of the heat behind them.

“What we mean is, we need to discuss what you are to this Mandalorian, if you are safe to see our inner workings and meet his siblings. That is all.” Green spoke nonchalantly, as if this was evident. It shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did.

If Mando trusted you to bring here, surely that was enough? Apparently not.

The conversation from there continued without your participation. The other three spoke as if you were not there, their words dipping between Basic and their mother tongue. There were some words you understood, mainly the curses that were falling from Mando’s vocoder, the likes of which you had become familiar with while patching him up after rough jobs. Most you didn’t though.

There was one moment, a word uttered that made Mando practically seize up next to you, his hands fisted and pressed firmly against the table. Riduur (Spouse). You took it to mean some sort of insult, from the way Mando had reacted it must have been. Whatever it meant, it wasn’t mentioned again.

The back and forth went on for some time, until-

“We just can’t understand why you would choose someone so weak to be on your crew. What on earth can they offer you?”

Something in you snapped. You don’t know why on earth you thought saying it would be a good idea. It was downright dangerous to even entertain the idea. But you couldn’t bear the idea that Mando was being criticised, mocked even, for choosing you.

The moment the words left your mouth you regretted them, but you would never dream of taking them back.

“I am far from weak. I may not wear armour or adhere to a code, but I am stronger in ways you can only dream of. I would be more than happy to show that I can take any of you in a fight, but it can’t be here. We go somewhere private and far from strangers eyes.”

They had accepted, with some amusement, and taken you, the Mandalorian and the child to a reclusive spot outside of town. Gnarled rock structures rose up on either side of you, providing the privacy you desperately required.

The whole journey there had been spent with Mando pleading and begging you not to do this. The strain in his voice was almost enough to make you give in, to take the hand he kept trying to close around your tensed fist and let him lead you back to the crest. But this was a matter of pride now and you weren’t going to cave in, not for anything.

It seemed that the trio had chosen Red for you to fight, it seemed fair to you given they looked a similar height and build to you. Not that it would help them mind.

They took their place within the makeshift rink that had been drawn in the sand, shaking themself out in an attempt to look ready.

You were about to step in when Mando grasped your wrist, pulling you close to his visor.

“Please, please, don’t do this, you don’t have to, not for you and least of all for me.” You didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were locked onto yours.

You opened your mouth to reply, but his own words tumbled out before you could speak. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel weak with my constant asking, I’m so so sorry. You don’t need to prove to me that you are strong by doing this, I know you are, I’ve always known,” His voice was quiet, almost ashamed of this outburst of emotion.

Your heart clenched, a dull ache that made you want to wrap your arms around him, wrap the force around him, and tell him it’s okay to feel. “Please cyare,” (“beloved”)  he croaked, his final attempt to get you to walk away.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the forehead of his helmet.

“Trust me.” That was all you said. All you needed to say. He gave a soft squeeze to the flesh of your wrist, then guided you into the rink.

Now or never then.

You stood opposite the Red painted Mandalorian. You settled into a fighting stance, centring your weight and your spirit.

For makers sake, please don’t let me down now.

You felt it before they moved, the energy beside your face surged in the direction that the fist flew mere seconds later. You easily parried, then landed your first blow to their ribs, just beside their chest plate. You span on your heel to face them head on again. You felt the gathering at your chest so you dodged to the left, only to feel the impact of a heavy fist colliding with your right shoulder. Pain exploded across the flesh there, causing you to reel back, stooping slightly as you clutched your shoulder.

Well it wasn’t an exact art at any rate.

Energy swirled below your stomach. Knee. As their knee flew towards your stomach you curled your hands under their thigh, using the momentum to surge forward and throw them onto their back. Their hands came to your hips, and flipped you over them as you fell forward, launching you to land harshly a few feet above their head.

Kriff this.

You both scrambled to your feet. You watched as they began to charge towards you. You didn’t brace yourself or try to run away. Instead, you merely extended your hand out towards them. Somewhere in the distance you heard Mando yelling at you, his voice muffled by your focus the swirling barrier of force you felt building up around you. The energy curled in on you, just as Red was about to make contact, you used all you had to throw it from your body, projecting it all towards the oncoming Mandalorian.

They flew backward, cape billowing with grace around them as they flailed through the air, landing with an unceremonious thud on the coarse ground.

You held them there, tendrils of force curling round their limbs to fix them to the ground as you walked calmly towards them. You were the epitome of control in this moment, you knew that you held the attention of everyone in attendance, even the air was still for your presence.

Towering over the restrained Mandalorian you could see every ounce of tension they were holding, their muscles in preparation for whatever onslaught you were about to rain down. Instead, you ran a casual hand through your hair.

“Do you concede?” You quipped.

Red nodded their head viciously, panting out “Yes, yes, yes.”

A wave of your hand released them. You watched as they scurried back to their creed siblings, gathering yourself for what you knew you had to do now.

You strode over to the trio. You flayed your hand towards them, fisting the fabric at their collars using the force.

“You say a single word to anyone about what you saw today and I will find you and personally rip those helmets off of your thick heads. I will do it in front of the whole planet and don’t think for a single second that I won’t.” You hissed at them, before releasing them and watching as they hurried away from you and back to the safety of the covert.

You hoped that the threat of removing their helmets would be affective enough in keeping their mouths shut. If your secret got out then you’d have bounty hunters on your trail in no time. You couldn’t put that on Mando, not when he’s already protecting his own foundling from them.

You took a breath to steady yourself, turning slowly to face your Mandalorian. He was stood stock still, frozen beneath the heat of the double suns. You tentatively walked towards him, reaching out when you were close enough to lightly trail your fingertips down his arm.

It was like your touch broke the spell. His arms came out and pulled you against his chest.

You let out a breathless laugh, your own arms coming up to wrap around his armour clad form.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again,” He said, resting his helmet on the crown of your head.

“I’ll certainly try not to,” You responded in a sigh, relaxing further into his embrace, the adrenaline from the fight slowly dissipating.

He pulled you away and held you from him, visor directly in front of your face.

“And no more secrets like that.”

“I promise.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. The both of you trying to gauge where the hell this new thing between you was going. That was until Mando’s arm was hit by a small metal ball.

You looked over to see the kid stood a little away from you, giggling hysterically. Glancing around, you then flicked your fingers, all three of you watching as the glinting sphere flew its way back to the child.

Mando shook his head, walking back over to where the child was and picking them up. You followed suit, the three of you now making your way back to the crest.

“So you and the kid, you have the same…abilities?” Mando eventually asked.

“Yes, at least I think so. To be truthful Mando, I have no idea what it is. All I know is that I’ve seen other people with it, good people, get captured and killed for it.”

“That’s why you couldn’t accept my lessons,” The realisation was evident in his voice. He looked at you, then at the kid, then back at you. “We’ll figure out what it is, how to protect you,” there was a pause, like he was contemplating something. Then he reached out and took your hand in his. “We’ll do it together.”

You smiled at him and nodded. Together.

Yes, you liked the sound of that.

[elliesproblems]

To Whom It May Concern: Chapter Twelve

Never Right

Entry: January 1st, 2017

    She was not the only victim in this, and they were not the only villain. The boyfriend she had at the time should have never been a part of it. He shouldn’t have been her boyfriend at all, but I felt I needed to prove to her that someone could love her. He was her friend and I used his feelings just for her personal band-aid.

    He wanted things to reach peaceful end while she was looking at way to make her ex eat dirt, but at least he listened. He made the whole shit storm bearable, and I knew he would have been on that sinking ship with her if she let him. I don’t mean that in a ‘ She came to her senses and cleared the air with him’. No, I got a taste of my own medicine, and the last crew member jumped ship. I’m so angry with my family for never siding with her, but she dropped my only ally to apese T***. In the end, why would they bother agreeing with her? It’s not like she stood a chance.

    The only person who dared to be her friend in all of this, I never saw as a friend. I saw him as a ticket to an easy life; a backup plan. That’s all I saw him as and when it came down to him or T***, after all T***'s done against her, and all he’s done for me, it was still T*** who won.

January 1st, 2017

    Two days ago I was trying to decide whether or not I wanted to make it to New Years. Today I realized I picked the wrong choice. This year will be just as awful as the past one.

    I thought I could be happy with only O****. I thought I could fake it until I wasn’t lying anymore. I wanted to like him back so badly because he was an easy ticket to happiness. And T*** played me into giving it up.

    The very person who made me question “Why am I still alive?”. After all he put me through, I still dared to love him. After all the times he made me believe he finally understood me, before stabbing me in the back with an even bigger knife than before, I still believe that we saw eye to eye, just this time. Never before had he openly admitted to missing me, and wanted to spend time with me. And I so stupidly bought it like it was going to make everything okay again.

    I realize now that it’s pathetic to be so happy when a childhood friend says these things, but it’s even worse when they’re not true.

    And I got played. He pretended to love me back for a week, and I dropped everything for her, my personification to an easy life included.

    He has the audacity to pretend like none of this ever happened. As if he has his hands tied behind his back by some force he wont credit. He blames **** cheating on me on himself, and that everything that followed was just him trying to right her wrongs, despite the ridiculous amount of times he’s wronged me in his traitorous conquest. He was not responsible for the break up. He was not responsible for **** turning into a ghost despite my attempts to remain friends. The involvement had no intention. Everything that followed, however? Lays squarely on T***'s shoulders.

    None of those people forced him to hang out with them, just like they didn’t force him to move out of my home and into ****'s. It was all his idea. And I know now, that as long as I am alive, he will never do right by me

Reading this now, and knowing later what happens, I know that this was Jay's final entry. Her last idea being that if no one was going to side with her now, maybe her death would cause some reconsideration. She was obsessed with winning, with proving all of them right. If the cost of that was her life? Then so be it.

I only really stepped in at the last minute, and I fronted like someone slamming the brakes. I want to say all she needed was someone on her side, but either way I did what they all did.

I protected myself from her. I jumped the sinking ship and now she's somewhere down there alone. I've never heard from her since.

    In the end all it took was several months of silence, and a handful of long drawn out emotional conversations. It took them all several months to be willing to actually listen this time, and still they all ‘wish I would have explained it sooner’. They claim they would have done differently, but the explanation I gave was the same as the one from months earlier.

    I’m still not sure what’s more comforting; that there was nothing I could say or do to make all of this stop, or that in the end they really did have a reason.

    From that day on I spent in the quiet, believing I was still Jay until one day in November when I finally sat down and understood why I wasn't so upset like I once was. It’s hard to accept that you are just a figment of someone else's trauma.

Jay is still angry, looking for revenge that will cost her our life. I’m just trying to make that cost seem so much more expensive and maybe when she does come back she’ll change her mind and forgive instead.

    There is nothing to learn in all of this. The world does not play by our feelings, and friends are not loyal like you think they should be. They are people and people are always awful, but we all know for every bit of awful you saw in **** and T***, you were angry that they were not using all that good you had once saw in them. The good where T*** would take the blame so you wouldn't get your car keys taken away. The good where you would go to him whenever you where upset because his hugs always seems to make everything okay and he'd always welcome you with welcome arms. The good in where **** would send you strangely non sexual shower selfies of her brushing her teeth and you'd send them back because it was a strange thing both of you did.

    You were angry that it was them of all people that did this to you.

    One day you’ll understand that it wasn’t just you that was hurt from this, and we all grew from this. You’re lesson is not to never trust anyone, and I know you don’t trust yourself and that means you don’t trust me, but if there’s anything I want you to get from this is that there is nothing they can do to make this better, so don’t wait for them to move mountains for you.

    There is nothing they can do for you that will just make the hurt go away. Even if they were responsible, even if it was their fault, even if they tried, there is nothing they can do for you.

    So stop holding all the fucking grudges and let yourself be happy for once. Don’t let them take that from you forever.

In Loving Memorial of the Girl I Once Was,

Ellie

[defunctzombie]

Greetings, sorry for the sudden ask, ummm.... Can you summarize tamago no hi volume 3 please~~? I've read the translation for vol 3 chap 1&2 but I can't seem to find anything beyond that and I'm dying to know what happens after Weiss proposing to platin for them to disappear from the rests for a week.

Okay. I don’t know if you have access to any pictures or not, so I’ll just repost the summary of the whole book I wrote a few years ago. I was at one point working on the spinoff of this title Gravitation (and summarizing bits of this to at least get the story out there; this isn’t my title), but I got hit with the worst luck in the world and developed a lot of medical issues and had to put translating on hold. But I can at least give you an idea of what’s going on with this story. :D

(I apologize in advance if I’m not romanizing the names the same way as you are used to, or if this summary is a little different that what you’ve read.)

Tamago 3 starts right at the end of Tamago 2. In vol 2, after the mermaids, there’s a chapter about Jade. That little baby he picked up (back in the first volume I think) is still following him around and calling him mama. After a big monster fight, Weiss asks Jade to make a contract with her. But something happens, and his egg like, explodes. Or says he’s dead.

Volume 3 opens with them scrambling to get Jade back to the egg source. They teleport using Platin’s power and get there, but Platin collapses from the strain (this is important for later). Jade’s egg is either healed or replaced, thanks to the little baby, and there’s a little ‘good-bye’ moment. :( He comes back out of the egg tank looking like an older man. He makes his promise with Weiss, and is turned out to be a silver wolf (that looks EXACTLY like Koma from Yami ni Toge, tee hee). Platin is worn out, and keeps out of the next monster fight, but wakes up and says “Where is Jade? Who’s this old guy?” and there are some laughs. This is where the 4koma I put on tumblr is from. (When I find the post, I’ll link it here.)

The last 2/3 of the book are a storyline called Privacy. Remember how when Or met Weiss, he thought she was his dead mentor? Well we get to see a little more of that story. The group is having a battle, when Platin seems more worn out than usual. Or is helping him when a monster attacks, but Weiss steps in the way triggering a flashback of Hori, Or’s mentor. We see that Or was basically a suicidal hellion, but Hori made friends with him and ended up giving his life to save Or. Meanwhile, Platin storms off.

Weiss finds Platin in a hot spring, and because she’s a nut ball, rips off her clothes and joins him. She gets freaked out when she sees blood in the water, and runs over to Platin thinking he’s injured. In one of the funniest panels in the book, Weiss feels Platin all over and discovers that he “doesn’t have one”. (You know, down there. XD ) Just as Jade shows up thinking he’s going to catch a peek at Weiss bathing, Platin transports himself and Weiss away to his secret place, the lake where he was born.

Platin tries to swim away and hide, but Weiss demands an explanation (you know, about the lack of certain parts and bloody water). He says no and buzz off, she says she’ll just go tell everyone that Platin is really a woman. Platin explains that’s not the case, but he admits he gets a period and had to get away from where the others were because they would be able to smell the blood. (Remember kiddies, Japan is not afraid of making period jokes on TV or in comics.)

After Jade can’t find Weiss, he goes back and tells the others. He shows them a bloody piece of Platin’s clothing, and of course Or freaks out thinking they were attacked. Or guesses that Platin used his power to teleport them away to safety in Platin’s homeland, and the crew decide to go after them. Or has to ride on Atrum’s back, though, because he never made a promise with Weiss and couldn’t transform (there’s something about promising Hori here, and how they all question why Or lives if Hori died).

There’s a flashback to how Or and Platin met at Platin’s home lake. Platin is drawn without a mask, and looks like a prettier Rakamu (from Doku no Aji). Or notices his purple eyes, and passes out from an injury, noting that his first words to Platin were “beautiful”. Platin explains to Weiss that he is NOT female, but instead an XXY male. There are no women in the dragon species, only XY and XXY. XXY can get pregnant, but there aren’t very many of them (something like one every 20 years). Platin knows that he’s going to be attacked by the XY dragons, and right on cue one does.

The XYs name is Mercury, and he and Platin seem to know each other, like maybe they fought before. Mercury insists that he will take Platin’s first child, but Platin adamantly refuses and they fight. At first, Mercury thinks Platin is refusing because he likes Weiss, but then Or and the others show up. Or wants to know what’s going on, with that creepy Naono smile that says “tell me or you’ll get it”. Mercury starts taunting, realizing that Platin likes Or. Or tells Platin that Platin belongs to him, while at the same time Mercury says “you are my woman”.

Or gets wide-eyed, and says “woman?” right before Mercury knocks Or’s skull open. It sets Platin off into a rage, and Platin agrees to battle Mercury in a few days (for some reason Mercury is perfectly fine with waiting). Meanwhile, Weiss and the others retreat to take care of Or. Once he’s back awake, Weiss explains the whole deal. Or seems depressed, and goes to talk to Platin in Platin’s lake. Platin initially refuses to come out, until Or orders him. Or wants to know why he kept all this a secret, and Platin says it has noting to do with him because they can’t be mates. Or agrees that it’s probably not possible, but the whole time his mind is lamenting how he can’t be with Platin anymore. He notes that their last words were that they can’t be together.

Or then goes into a slump, staring out the window like he’s lost. Jade wonders why they’re just sitting around when Platin could be getting killed, to which Or answers that it’s not any of their business because they’re not dragons and this is what Platin wanted. Weiss flips out, questioning Or if it’s fine for Mercury to rape Platin, and that Or is seriously thick headed if he could go all these years without realizing how Platin felt. Or snaps and says he can’t give Platin a child so he has no right to be by his side. Weiss and Jade squabble over Gaito having babies, and Weiss starts flipping on Jade for forgetting about Rouge, her son (see volume 1). Atrum steps in and reminds her that it’s Gaito -men- who can’t have babies. Or remarks that it doesn’t matter anyway, because Platin is a dragon. Jade makes a comment about how Platin can’t do it anyway because he has no parts (I love the new Jade).

Weiss reminds Or that having babies shouldn’t matter because the two love each other, and Or remembers how he made Platin cover his eyes so that he’d be safe while they travel (I guess purple eyes are rare and can cause trouble). Or admits that Platin is his everything, and the group transport off to save him.

When they get there, they find Platin half dead and about to lose, because Platin absolutely refuses to mate with Mercury. Mercury starts taunting Or (before realizing he is there) and how Platin is weak for holding onto someone who just left him. Mercury says that Or has no right to interfere in the dragons’ affairs, when Or speaks up and tells him he’s right. But he does have a right to interfere in Platin’s affairs, and changes into a golden bird. Turns out he was able to make a promise with Weiss because she got Hori’s egg (I think, it’s a little vague). After a battle, Mercury admits defeat and leaves. Platin is shocked, but grateful. Weiss then reminds him that he is loved.

Two weeks later, Weiss is looking for Platin and finds him being spoon fed by Or. Or is very lovey-dovey now, and Platin is a little embarrassed. Weiss wants to talk to Platin in private, but Or says no, telling her that there are no more secrets between the two. So Weiss blurts out that Platin is pregnant. She goes into a long winded talk about how Platin was still female when Or saved him, and that Gaito sperm are some kind of super sperm that can conceive with other Gaito and dragon people (and there’s an actual drawing of sperm and eggs, more crazy Naono humor). Needless to say the boys are all stunned, except Or who just goes over to Platin and takes off his blindfold. Platin admits it’s true because he didn’t revert back to male right away, and Or just hugs him in what has got to be the cutest panel ever. He then says that above all else, he’s thankful for Platin being alive.

The book ends with some humor, with Weiss calling the two “mamatomo”, kind of translates into mama buddies, and Platin revealing that the baby will take 3 years to be born. They leave to return to Weiss’ hometown, this time making Jade carry all Platin’s luggage. When Jade complains, one of them says “What? Elderly abuse?”. Atrum comments that Weiss smells good, and she blushes and yells that it’s only the soap.

So the two oneshots “Tamago No…” and “Tamago no Hanashi” probably make a lot more sense now. I kind of like how nowhere in the book is it mentioned that the two slept together, just BAM! pregnant. Reminds me of a Disney movie, except with men. XD