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bluesgrxce · 3 months ago

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Yandere (machine-ish?) Connor Headcanons

I love soft deviant Connor like anyone else does, but machine Connor is sooo,,, omgggggggg..... I've been holding in my thoughts about him for so long that it's unhealthy. So I went for a Hannah Montana best of both worlds kinda thing. What if Connor acted like a deviant around you, but a machine towards everyone else?

How this happens is something I can't quite explain. Connor probably couldn't, either. To everyone else, an android is either a machine or a deviant-- There's no such thing as an inbetween. He would have agreed with this prior to bonding with you. You probably treated him in a way that nobody else did, sympathizing with him on a deeper level or making him question his morals, so he can see why that would push him to deviancy.

But when you're not around, all those overwhelming emotions he felt just fade away. The mission goes back front and center to his priorities. He only feels two things at that point: confusion that runs his LED wild and desire for you that makes his thirium pump pound even when he's not in motion. Nobody else can bring about such reactions within him.

He runs plenty of diagnostic checks in an attempt to figure out what's wrong with him. At one point, he'll try to avoid you and force himself into staying a machine, but that just makes him less efficient because he'll constantly worry about you instead.

He would eventually accept himself as a deviant, but only so he wouldn't have to take orders from Cyberlife anymore. He doesn't want anything standing between the two of you. But he still largely acts like a machine and he doesn't mind that at all. He just sets his new mission to making you entirely his...

Even once Connor sees his emotions as real, it's still his natural instinct to mask them. Especially negative ones like anger, sadness, and jealousy. He wouldn't want to show them unless they benefit his situation somehow, such as if he wanted to persuade or intimidate you/others. Emotions only matter to him if they're useful.

For example, he *does* feel the desire to show affection towards you, and he will do it. He'll compliment you whenever you do something admirable. He'll reassure you and show geniune worry whenever you're upset about something. He'll even study romance media just to learn how to act more natural in the relationship (He thinks that'll help him act more natural, anyway... Lord help you if he gets his hands on Twilight 💀 But if the Bryan Dechart Twilight commercial is anything to go off of, he'd look good as a vampire, at least).

But he doesn't do that stuff simply because he loves you. He does it because he knows your relationship benefits from it and you'll likely leave him if you feel neglected. He wouldn't bother if he knew it wouldn't keep you around. So if your relationship isn't exactly consensual in the first place, well...

Which makes him sound pretty manipulative, right? You have no idea.

Connor's android abilities give him a terrifying amount of advantages as a yandere. The first thing is that he always analyzes you when you enter the room, even though that often means analyzing you multiple times a day. It never bores him because he always manages to discover something new. Sometimes he'll blurt out random comments and you'll have to do a double take because he makes it easy to forget that he's obsessed with you.

"Your birthday is coming up soon. You might already know I'm aware of that type of information, but you should still bring it up with me. Otherwise I'll have to start believing I can't trust you and I'll have to make my own investigations."

"Your heart rate goes up every time I touch you like this. I didn't realize physical contact was so important to human relationships. Don't worry, I won't stop. I won't let anyone stop me."

"Your serotonin levels are at an all-time low... Clearly, it can't be my fault, since I've done everything I am sure a good boyfriend would do. I'd like you to be honest when you tell me what's wrong this time."

The red flags fly higher as time goes on. He'll stop talking about all these observations if you tell him to, but he'll keep analyzing you anyway.

Connor is enamoured with your DNA, as well. It helps him feel closer to you, which can often be difficult for him since he's not human. So if it belongs to you, and it can fit, it's going in his mouth. He'll do gross shit like keep your used lollipop sticks in his pocket so he can sample them whenever he wants. There's only one emotion he can't feel no matter what you do: shame.

The invasive behavior doesn't stop there. He'll invite himself into your home and go through your things. He'll keep asking questions and trick you into revealing more information about yourself than you should. Knowing everything there possibly is to know about you gives him a stronger feeling of control for a single reason...

Your chance of escape plummets as he learns more about you, because it allows him to predict your behavior. He'll get scary accurate if you let him get close to you. This mostly benefits him in situations where he believes you want to leave him, or you did leave him, so he can figure out what you plan to do/already did and find the best method to get you back. If you already did leave, he'll examine your recent whereabouts like it's a crime scene and use his reconstruction ability. Even if you're insanely careful, he'll probably find a clue that'll lead him to you.

But sometimes he'll do it in normal situations, too, just as a silent guessing game. For instance: '(Y/N) will enter the police station at 8:18AM. I'm waiting for them at the entrance, so they'll greet me, but speed-walk away and avert eye contact. They'll head into the break room at 8:19AM and pretend to look around a bit, so Gavin won't make fun of them when they go for the same snack they always do. Gavin will make fun of them anyway and they'll argue for two minutes. Then--'

He has to stop thinking so he can greet you when you enter the building. Exactly at 8:18AM. He smirks to himself, only to drop into a frown when he hears Gavin's distant obnoxious laughter afterward.

Remember how Connor once analyzed Hank's food and advised him against eating it? He does stuff like that to you all the time. And if you actually take the advice he gives, he'll take that as an opportunity to become more controlling. Oh, but only for the sake of your health, of course...

"You know, you shouldn't sit in that type of position. Bad posture can lead to health issues later on in life." "Then how should I sit?" "...It'll be easier if I show you."

And so he'll help re-position you, using that as an excuse to touch you. He would especially do this if you weren't yet in a relationship, because he knows that as the type of android he is, he doesn't have a good reason to do so. The touch only lasts a brief moment. It's not inappropriate at all, and his grip was quite gentle. But it's weird that he went out of his way to do in the first place and that's all you might need to feel uncomfortable about it.

But a lot of that is based off of the assumption that you're human. If you're an android, he still manages to find invasive things to do against your will. For one thing, he loves probing your memory. It's already difficult to lie to him and get away with it, but that might make it impossible, depending on what you're lying about. He doesn't care that it's an invasion of privacy and will do it if he finds a good excuse to do so.

Connor keeps an eye on your stress level and uses it to his advantage. He prefers to use persuasion when convincing you to do something, (he knows how to negotiate, after all) but he'll ultimately turn to intimidation if necessary. Which means heading straight into interrogation mode.

This won't happen unless you're extremely rebellious, but if it does, he doesn't hold back. He'll treat you like you're a sick criminal, yelling at you, pushing blame and guilt onto you, and using physical force. 28 stab wounds type shit. He would avoid raising your stress level to 100% since he knows it could drive you to do crazy things, but that still doesn't make his actions okay.

Even if you're really sensitive to that sort of treatment-- hell, even if you have some kind of trauma related to it-- he pushes away what little guilt he feels. He promises not to do it again "as long as you don't force me to." Actually, though, it encourages him to do it more. He knows it works against you now.

His abilities don't stop there. He can mimic your voice using his vocal imitation, and all the voices of your loved ones, too. He went out of his way to meet them all, just in case he needs to trick you in the future. He likes being prepared.

There are times when he's alone and he'll say stuff in your voice just so he can hear what it would sound like, such as, "I love you, Connor." Once again, he doesn't feel shame. Even if that seems pathetic.

Let's just say it now. You cannot physically fight back against him. Maybe you'll have a chance if you're an android, but he knows about his advantage very well. He won't hesitate to remind you if you try getting aggressive. But even if you manage to get rid of him once, there's another model waiting to take his place.

On a related note... I hope you never meet RK900. We only saw that guy for a minute, he said absolutely nothing in that minute, but the whole fandom has agreed that he's a menance. I fully agree. RK900 is definitely different from Connor, but they still have just enough similarities for him to get attached to you, too. Get help while you still can.

The video of Bryan Dechart dancing as Connor lives rent free in my mind. I watch it on repeat like an iPad kid watching Friday Night Funkin' YouTube Kids videos. My brain just melts and I can't think of anything else. No, this isn't me simping for Bryan Dechart. This is me wanting Connor dancing to be canon. A girl can dream.

#detroit become human #detroit rk800 #connor rk800 #yandere dbh #yandere dbh x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh x reader #dbh fanfic #dbh fic #blue writes #finally! let the crossposting begin!

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 months ago

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A big part of Eureka is splitting the party. Normally games are loathe to do this because of the potential to bore players while they passively watch others play the game. I'm curious how you deal with this when you run Eureka. Sending players away seems like it could make it either better or worse. Like if it's at a home, people can go hang out by the snack table and drink and chat, but that doesn't work as well at, say, a game store. I'm curious how people felt about having to leave the game several times.

While the risk of boring the players or putting too much stress on the GM is a real concern, the addage of "don't split the party" actually originated in the TSR D&D era, where splitting the party made them weak and vulnerable to all sorts of situations that would be less of a problem for a full strength party, However, for a game like Eureka that produces more conventional narratives (everyone take note that I did not say that Eureka produces more narrative or is "more focused on narrative", just more conventional narratives) and has more of a focus on intrigue and horror, the party splitting up to cover more ground and collect more clues in the limited time they have to solve the mystery, but also making each one of them more vulnerable if something happens, is an actual trade-off that can improve the gameplay and story.

First of all, besides it just being really entertaining, I really recommend you listen to the Tiny Table Actual Play of Eureka. It has some really good examples of splitting the party and sending players away that are executed really well, and also some good discussion of it in the post-mortem episode and the interview.

I’m going to answer the ask directly from my own gameplay experience, but I really really urge anyone who has played Eureka to comment with their own experiences with splitting the party and sending players away.

Alright, so, obviously how long players are willing to wait their turn is group-dependent, but with our own group, we’ve actually kinda had the opposite problem from players getting bored. Instead, Narrator and the players whose characters are currently in the spotlight start to worry that they’re selfishly hogging too much session time, and try to rush the scene along (to its great detriment), when in reality the players who were sitting out were happy to keep waiting. Realizing this led to us altering the advice regarding splitting the party in the rulebook, and actually recommending the Narrator go a little longer before switching to the other characters.

I personally am happy to wait up to like 90 minutes if my character is out of the scene, because I have faith in my group and also in Eureka that the payoff for waiting will be that much greater, seeing the characters relay what they have learned while they were apart in dialogue rather than the player just saying “My investigator tells them everything that happened.” It really heightens the tension, lets the characters shine, and can even really help with solving the mystery, because having the events and evidence recounted out loud can help with making connections that might have gone over people’s heads the first time.

Of course like the rulebook says, it also comes to the judgement of the play group as a whole, and should definitely be discussed beforehand basically as part of session zero, and even mid-session if it needs to be. (Communicate your preferences to your play group!!!!!) There’s plenty of scenes and situations where having the other players leave the room instead of sitting and watching would add nothing at all to the experience.

Now I want to hear other people’s opinions. If you have played Eureka and had a party split where some players left the room or otherwise excused themselves, how did it go?

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lovebvni · 6 months ago

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The Star — An introduction to my Group Waiting Room

Finally, after months ( maybe even a YEAR ) of promising to make this blog, I am beginning it. I really wanted to make this blog a while ago to introduce this wr to so many people, but I haven't (OBVIOUSLY) but now, its here!

Let me start off with this, this waiting room is a waiting room anyone and everything who is a reality shifter has access to. Yes, there are personal invitations, but everyone has access. All you have to say is "I am going to shift to The Star." and you'll be there. The universe knows what you mean, and they wont wrong you and shift u to a literal star (unless that is what you want, obviously). But now lets get into what you will see when you get there

When first entering The Star for the very first time, you will be in a waiting room with "Welcome! Everything is fine." written in green paint on the wall. This is a reference to one of my favorite shows, The Good Place. Yes, I realize how ominous this may look or sound, but if you know me, I love being a bit creepy sometimes. The door to the left will lead you farther into the waiting room, the door to the right will lead you to a personal makeup/dress up room.

When going right, you will have the ability to change your appearance just like a video game character. You can change your height, weight, skin tone, whatever you want! Your desired body is yours to choose. This room is also fully customizable. For example, mine looks like the glitterizer from Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse (iykyk). I would always suggest going to your personal dress up room before anything else. But if you decide not to, there will be plenty more opportunities for you to change how you look and what you are wearing.

The next place you will enter is a long hallway, and ther will be almost a 'check in' when you get there. At the check in, there will be two dogs -- a yorkie and a chiwawa mix. These are my cr dogs that I love very much. They will give you a ticket and a pamphlet on where to go/the layout of the waiting room. In that card, there will also be a personal message to you from your spirit guides! Everyone has at least one, and they may be long, they may be short, but they will be for YOU and YOU only (unless you want to share with others, of course.)

After this, you have the ability to walk into the common area, which is just full of chairs and places to chat. There are many other things you can do here, but I will list the other rooms below.

a power testing arena -- simply a place you can test a power you want to have/do have and see how powerful it is. you can also train with other people/npcs :p

Deity worship/work area -- there is a hallway where every deity (from a to z) have a room that is just there's. you have the ability to go in and worship or speak with them there. they are not always active there, as they probs have other shit to do, but you can always leave a message and they can request your presence :D

Wild Shift/Teleport -- you will be sent to a random place in the universe that will entertain you. It may not be a dr you made, but it is always open to you to be there. You have the right to shift out any time if you do not like it (obviously)

A POOL ROOM -- ok i love pools, so obviously i scripted multiple pool rooms there. they are so pretty, and i have just been told some mermaids hang out there in their free time

multiple cafes/places to eat -- self explanatory. any food in the universe is accessible to you. these cafes/restaurants are run by helpers, lumas from Mario cart and Chaos from Sonic. They are so cute and sweet, they can also duplicate when needed.

MALLS !! -- idk man i love shopping and trying on clothes w my friends, stfu

Media areas -- there are two main media areas, a library and a theatre (both traditional and digital, also can be for multiple people or one person)

Therapy/talk with your guides/ a multidimensional therapist-- to do this, we connected with a reality where reality shifting is normalized, and there are therapist who work interdimensional. they are always willing to help. all meetings are confidential and will not be spoke about with any being

two 18+ areas -- i only call them 18+ because thats whats socially acceptable here. there is a topic area and an actual... yk.. LMFAOO

Those are all the like, public spaces! Now onto the ports.

A port is similar to an airport, which is why you got a ticket when entering. The ticket will have your port number and how to get there inscribed on it. I personally get to mine via an elevator. When entering your port, will be greeted with a personal waiting room -- one you can only access on your own unless you open it to other people. Just like with everything in this wr, you can change everything with intention and/or visualization.

The ports are usually two floors, these floors have secret hidden doors on the walls to your waiting room. On either side of the door, there will be a script to that dr that you have made -- either physically in a reality you came from or from your intention/imagination. On top of the doors, the place you will be shifting too will be written.

For example, if I am shifting to Alice in Wonderland, my script will be on the right (which you can grab and hold or just scroll through) and Alice in Wonderland will be written on top. The door will open when I step close, and I will be shown the exact moment I am shifting to.

In your DR port, anything is possible. You can manifest, enter the void, script, change the port appearance, whatever you want! Lumas and Chaos will also be at your service here :)

And, that's pretty much all I have for these wrs! I guess another thing I would say is you can shift to group drs/wrs from here but that is kinda self explanatory if you ask me.

I hope you all like this, and I am really excited to meet you guys there!!

Love and excitement

the abyss

(if u saw this already no u didn’t. tumblr was being weird LMFAO)

#abyss .realities #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting community #reality shift #desired reality #black shifters #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifting #waiting room dr

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clarisse0o · 3 months ago

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Camp Wiegman-Final Part

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 7K

Masterlist

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Ten Years Later...

Friday, September 11th, 6:30 AM - Ona and Lucy's Residence

Gentle caresses in my hair slowly pull me from my slumber. My eyes flutter open, searching for the time on the alarm clock. I sigh softly, realizing why my alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

"Sweetheart. As lovely as this is, let me sleep."

Lucy hums playfully near my neck. Despite myself, I smile when she moves my hair aside to plant a kiss there. Simultaneously, her hand starts wandering under my t-shirt.

"I couldn’t sleep anymore. I thought maybe we could take advantage of this moment and share a shower..."

"Oh, really? So, on the only day we can actually sleep in, you choose to wake me up?"

A shiver runs through me as her fingers gently stroke my breast before cupping it tenderly. Meanwhile, her lips continue teasing my sensitive skin so early in the morning.

"Well... I had some very specific plans, actually."

I tremble with satisfaction, closing my eyes.

"Alright, you win..."

I hear her chuckle before she nibbles on my earlobe.

"That's what I thought."

Before we can move an inch, the door to our room creaks open. My eyes snap open, and both Lucy and I groan in unison.

"Mama...?"

I feel Lucy sit up behind me. Her hand slips out from under my t-shirt to steady herself. I take the opportunity to lie on my back.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Lucy asks.

"My tummy hurts."

Lucy turns to me with a desperate roll of her eyes. I stifle a laugh, reaching out to rub her arm in consolation. Our three-year-old daughter started school on Monday, and since then, she’s been waking us up every morning with various excuses. Who could blame her for not loving school yet? Not me. It's rather amusing, even if she has interrupted more than a few intimate moments lately.

"Come join us, Jade," I say, patting the bed.

Without hesitation, she rushes toward us. Lucy, who is closer to the door, lifts her up and tucks her under the blanket between us. She wiggles in as comfortably as she can.

"So, your tummy is playing tricks on you, hmm?"

I rub her belly gently, and Jade nods vigorously. I glance at Lucy, and we exchange a knowing smile.

"Maybe our little one is feeling sick..." Lucy suggests.

"Is that true?" I ask, and our daughter nods again.

"Yes, Mama."

"Oh, really?"

I start tickling her, and she bursts into laughter, squirming to escape my grasp.

"You seem awfully cheerful for a sick little girl," Lucy comments with amusement.

I stop tickling her to let her catch her breath. She pouts when she realizes we didn’t fall for her trick.

"I don't want to go back to school. I want to stay with you."

"You know that's not possible, sweetheart," Lucy replies.

"But I used to stay with you before."

"I know, but big girls like you have to go to school. You can't always stay with us."

She crosses her arms and pouts, which makes us laugh. I kiss the top of her head lovingly.

"You know, I’m going back to school today too, and I’m just as nervous as you are."

Her eyes widen in surprise as she lifts her head to look at me.

"You're scared too?"

"Of course. It’s something new, that's why. But I bet soon you’ll want to go back again and again. It wasn’t so bad so far, was it? And Luis is with you too."

"Yes, but... I prefer being with you."

"Oh, really? But you like Luis, don’t you?"

"Hmm..." she hesitates. "But you’ll come to pick me up tonight?"

Lucy laughs heartily.

"Of course, sweetheart. Just like every other day this week, and just like we pick your brother up from school every day."

"Hmm..."

"Your brother felt the same way at first," Lucy continues.

"Really?"

Jade often tries to emulate her older brother. Lucy and I both understand that, and we frequently use him as an example to help her change her mind.

"Yes, and now you know he loves going to school," I reply. "He’s made lots of friends, and soon you’ll meet plenty of new people too. Isn't that already happening?"

She sighs softly, nodding her head, still not fully convinced.

"Alright..." she mutters finally. "I’ll go back."

I exchange a small, victorious smile with Lucy. We've managed to get through this first week. I hope the coming weeks will be less complicated. The frustration of abstinence is starting to build. Her brother wasn’t as difficult in this regard.

"That’s a good decision. How about we go wake your brother now?"

"Oh yes!"

She wriggles free from the blanket and runs down the hall without waiting for either of us. Lucy and I laugh before she collapses onto me.

"Do you think we’ll finally get some peace next week?"

"Oh, my love, are you feeling deprived?" I tease her.

"Yes," she says, sitting up. "I promise you, the moment the kids are in bed tonight, I won’t miss my chance."

I laugh as she leans in to kiss me. I savor the moment. It's the best part of the day—waking up next to Lucy after all these years is a dream come true that I cherish deeply.

"STOP IT!"

The sudden scream from our son is followed by sharp crying. We sigh in unison, knowing that our morning truce is already over.

"And here we go again. I'll go check," Lucy says.

"No, I'll go," I offer. "You get changed and prepare breakfast in the meantime."

"Alright."

We share one last kiss before getting out of bed. Another day begins. It’s a routine we’ve settled into for many years now. After two children, life is certainly different. We’ve become a real family, and it’s rather nice. Or at least it was until I reached our son’s room. He stands there, visibly angry, while Jade sits on his bed, crying her eyes out.

"What’s going on in here?"

"He pushed me off the bed!"

"What? That’s not even true!" he shouts.

"James. That’s enough."

"But Mom, I didn’t push her! She fell on her own!"

No, I definitely don’t like mornings like these. I sigh, scooping Jade into my arms to calm her down. One thing that hasn’t changed is that I still dislike noisy wake-ups. It seems our son has inherited that trait, though I wasn’t the one who gave birth to him.

"I know, but you have to admit, you can be a bit rough with her. We’ve already explained that she’s smaller than you."

"Sorry," he mumbles, lowering his head.

I ruffle his hair.

"You're forgiven, but next time, be more gentle."

He looks up, relaxing as he sees me smile.

"Yes, Mom."

"Alright, go get ready now. We’re going to be late if you keep up these antics."

He nods and rushes out of the room. I turn my attention back to Jade, who has rested her head on my shoulder. I bounce her gently in my arms.

"Hey, sweetie, now’s not the time to fall back asleep," I tease her softly.

She whines, rubbing her eyes with her fist. I turn around when I hear giggling. Lucy is leaning against the doorframe, smiling mischievously.

"You think this is funny?"

"A little," she says, approaching me.

She steps closer and holds out her arms.

"I’ll take over. Go get ready in the meantime."

I don’t argue. I hand our daughter over to her, and she leaves the room with her. I stay behind, making James' bed and brightening up the room before heading out. As I pass through the hallway, I overhear a conversation between James and Lucy, where he asks if we’ve packed his sports gear. Apparently, his aunt scolded him last time for forgetting his jersey. I smile, shaking my head. Alexia exaggerates. She should know that organizing things with two kids at home isn’t easy every day. I reach our bedroom. When we built our house, we immediately agreed to have a master suite. Let’s just say we don’t regret it. It’s spacious, but it’s our little sanctuary. I love this room, although the rest of the house is nothing to complain about either. We’ve done well for ourselves. The first floor starts in the basement, which houses three rooms: my painting studio, the gym, and the children’s playroom. Lucy and I have rooms with large windows overlooking the garden and pool. Upstairs, on the ground floor, we have a large living area open to the kitchen, as well as a terrace that also overlooks the garden. There’s also a restroom, and Lucy insisted on having an office here so she can manage some of the work for her gym. It’s nice knowing she can work from home, and it’s saved us many times when we couldn’t find anyone to watch the kids. From this floor, we also have access to a garage next to the house, leading to the driveway. The top floor has five bedrooms, including our master suite and the children’s rooms. Since our families live far away, we thought it would be wise to add extra rooms. In reality, it’s usually our friends who use them after nights of too much drinking, but at least they get used. There’s also a main bathroom and two small bathrooms for the guest rooms. So yes, we definitely have no complaints. After getting ready, I head downstairs to join my little family in the living room. The kids are already seated at the table, each with their toast and hot chocolate. Lucy greets me by handing me a similar plate along with my cup.

"Right on time."

"You're a sweetheart."

"I know," she responds with a mischievous look.

We sit down at the table, and I finally take a few sips of my coffee, which I’ve come to rely on. It was a lifesaver during my time at art school. That memory reminds me how far we've come since then. Our first year after Camp Wiegman was incredibly tough, but we eventually pulled through. It was intense. On my end, everything was fine—I had started the first of three years studying in my chosen field. But it wasn't the same for Lucy. The first year after she opened her gym was not a success. It just didn’t work out. I almost thought I was going to lose her. We argued constantly because she was in a bad place and wouldn’t let anyone help her. Fortunately, with Alexia in the same situation at home, we eventually found a solution. We reached out to a communications professional, and thanks to them, everything fell into place. Not only did the gym gain many members, but we also got married that summer.

Now, here we are, sitting across from our kids at the table. I always insist that we eat meals together whenever possible. Having never experienced that myself, I want my children to have a happy childhood, and I’d say we’ve succeeded. I smile as I watch them interact, chatting enthusiastically with each other. I love seeing their bond, even if they sometimes argue like they did this morning. They don’t realize how lucky they are to have each other. Lucy and I know that well, which is why we knew right away how many children we wanted.

"How are you feeling?" Lucy asks.

"A little panicked," I admit. "But I’ll be fine."

"Of course. I already know everything’s going to go well."

"I hope so."

"Are you still going to the gallery this afternoon?"

"Yes, I told Grace I’d stop by for a bit, but we can have lunch together if you want. I can meet you at the gym and grab something on the way."

"That’s a great idea. Then you can tell me all about your first day."

I nod with a small smile. "And you can tell me about your conference call this morning."

"You remembered?"

"Of course," I say, placing my hand on her knee.

She takes my hand and kisses it. The start might have been difficult, but everything is running smoothly now. Several other gyms have opened through franchises. For now, it's mostly in UK, but I have no doubt it will continue expanding little by little.

"Well, it’s time to drop the kids off, it seems."

Usually, when they start getting restless, it means it's almost time to leave, and once again, that's the case here. They’ve finished eating, and now they can’t sit still.

"It seems so," I say, getting up to start clearing the table. "I can take them if you want. That way, I’ll be a little ahead of schedule."

"Are you sure?" she asks, following me into the kitchen.

"Yep. I need to get a feel for things. Head to the gym and say hi to Jenni for me."

"Will do. I’ll pick up Jade and Luis after school, then."

"Okay, sounds good," I reply with a small smile. "Did you remind James he's going home with Alexia?"

"Yes, yes, he knows. Go take care of the kids; I’ll finish cleaning up," Lucy says.

"Alright. Okay, kids, time to head out."

"Yeah!" James shouts, running off.

Jade was ready to follow, but I catch her before she can dash away.

"Oh no, you’re staying with me," I laugh. "We still need to brush our teeth, and then we can go."

I smile at Lucy, who’s still tidying up, before heading upstairs. As promised, I help Jade brush her teeth and do the same myself. James, already ahead of us, is downstairs with his things. I grab mine and head down. I get Jade into her jacket, put on my shoes, and return to the kitchen. Lucy is waiting with the kids’ snacks in hand. I really appreciate how in sync we are.

"Thanks."

"It’s nothing."

She pulls me close, placing her hands on my hips. I kiss her softly before stepping back.

"We have to go."

"You’re going to turn heads in that outfit," she says, slipping her hand into my pocket.

"Stop," I laugh. "It’s just black pants and a shirt."

"And heels that make your backside look incredible."

I place my hand on her cheek with a small smile.

"And you can enjoy all of it tonight."

I kiss her once more before stepping away as our son calls out to me.

"Have a good day, my love."

"You too, I hope. See you later."

I put on my jacket and finally head out with the kids. I drive happily through the streets of Manchester in our SUV. I finally got my Audi. Thanks to our jobs and a lot of hard work, we’re not short on money.

At the end of my studies, Grace offered me half the shares of her gallery. She knew that one day I’d want to leave and start my own. She got ahead of it by offering everything to me on a silver platter. Since her previous partner had left before I arrived, she asked me to take their place so we could continue working together as equals. Naturally, I accepted her offer. We’ve been inseparable ever since, and we make a great team.

Since then, our business has grown quite well. Both of us are busy with our private lives, so we agreed not to expand by opening more galleries for now. Instead, we focused on acquiring a larger space and kept the joy of creating our own artwork to display and sell.

We also decided to bring on more staff. There are now five of us working together, including Alessia. I recommended her a few years ago due to her passion for art. Lucy wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but Alessia remains a close friend, like Leah and the rest of our friends from Camp Wiegman, with whom I’ve kept in touch. After school, nothing changed. We all stayed in contact, and Lucy was warmly welcomed, even though the first gatherings were a bit awkward for everyone.

As for my jealousy when it comes to my wife, it has never lessened. Neither of us can stand the thought of someone flirting with the other. For me, the worst is probably the women at her gym. They know I exist, and that we have kids since we often go there together, but that doesn’t stop them from flirting with her.

On Lucy’s side, she has similar complaints. We often host openings with Grace for young artists or even for our own work to increase visibility. Lucy always comes with me when I decide to go. I think she’s realized that we’re starting to make a name for ourselves among the artists. So, she never misses one. She always ensures we stick together so no one can even think about hitting on me. It’s rather ironic considering her profession, but it always makes me laugh.

I pull up to my first stop with a smile—it’s the elementary school. I don’t get out of the car. James is seven now and considers himself old enough to walk into school alone. Since Joan reacted the same way at his age, I wasn’t too surprised, though Lucy has had a hard time coming to terms with it this week.

"Have a good day, sweetheart. Don’t forget you’re going home with Alexia tonight."

"Yes, Mom, I know," he says, sounding exasperated. "See you later."

I still get a kiss before he dashes off. I always make sure to park near the entrance so I can watch him walk through the gate. Once he��s inside, I sigh softly.

"Well, it’s just us now," I say, looking into the rearview mirror.

- Hmm, hmm.

I smile and continue driving to the preschool, which is a little farther away. This time, I take the time to walk Jade in. She holds my hand as we pass through the doors. I can feel she's a bit nervous, but luckily, I spot Mapi getting out of her car at the same time.

"Come on, Luis. You don't want me to drag you in again, do you?"

I hold back a laugh as I watch the scene.

"But I don’t want to go!" he complains.

Looks like some people had a rough morning. I glance down at Jade, who’s standing quietly beside me, also watching the scene. Luis, seeing my daughter, eventually joins us, leaving behind my best friend, who’s starting to lose it.

"For real? Who do you think you are! Get back here!"

“Well, you’re already causing trouble this morning?" I tease. "Good morning, Luis."

"Good morning. Can we go now?"

I chuckle, letting go of Jade's hand and giving them the okay. Mapi finally joins me, carrying her son's bag. She lets out a heavy sigh as she catches up.

"This kid is going to be the death of me!"

"Good morning to you too, dear Mapi."

"Hey, Ona."

We exchange a hug and follow our kids from a distance, watching them already deep in conversation. I can’t help but find them adorable, holding hands.

"Looks like a future couple, don’t you think?"

"Please no. Lucy would freak out if that happened."

I burst into laughter, though she’s probably right. When I brought it up with my wife, she practically screamed, saying our little girl was far too young for that. I have a feeling that when they hit their teenage years, I’ll have more than just the kids to manage. Lucy’s already struggling to accept how fast they’re growing up. I turn back to Mapi, who seems utterly exhausted.

"You don’t seem too great."

"Not really. Luis has been making our lives hell because of school. Yet all it takes is seeing Jade, and suddenly, everything’s fine."

I laugh again. It’s pretty much the same with Jade. Just mentioning James or Luis and all her worries disappear.

"I know the feeling. We tried to shower together this morning, and Jade barged into our room at six-thirty."

"Ouch, tough luck," she teases. "Maybe we’re not as bad off as I thought. At least we don’t have that problem."

"That’s one advantage of only having one child."

"Not for much longer," she says, patting her belly.

"I know," I reply with a big grin. "Enjoy it while you can," I tease.

We enter the building and walk the kids to their classroom. We greet the teacher and hand over Jade and Luis's belongings. Naturally, we barely get a chance to say goodbye to our kids before they rush off to play with the others. For once, neither of them throws a fit about wanting to leave with us.

"Is everything set for tonight?" she asks as we head back. "Do we need to bring anything?"

"Oh no, don’t worry. We’re ordering pizza, and Lucy’s already done the shopping for the rest."

"Always so organized. Seriously, you guys should give lessons."

I shrug with a small smile. It’s true that Lucy and I don’t have much to complain about. We both have our strengths and weaknesses, but we complement each other well.

"There’s no training for it. It’s just a good connection."

"Hmm... Well, I’ve got to get to work," she says as we reach our cars.

"Yeah," I chuckle. "Try not to stay too late. You know how much these Friday nights mean to your wife."

Mapi shakes her head with amusement. She got her engineering degree the same year I left Camp Wiegman. Since then, thanks to her stellar record as top of her class, she landed a job at a famous company , which she absolutely loves. She’s so passionate about her work that she’s almost never home. She might not admit it, but I think this nearly cost her marriage. Lucy and I were really worried watching things fall apart without being able to help. Thankfully, things eventually got sorted out. Mapi slowed down, and she even agreed to carry their second child to show that her family comes first. After her tough childhood, I expected nothing less, and if she ever forgets the importance of family, I’ll be there to remind her.

"I know, I know, don’t worry. I promised her I’d leave by five. Besides, I can’t do as many hours with this little one draining all my energy," she says, patting her belly.

"Good, glad to hear it," I giggle.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Good luck this morning."

"Thanks, that’s sweet. See you tonight."

"Of course. Have a great day."

We exchange another hug before heading to our respective cars. For the past few years, we’ve had this little ritual where we get together every Friday night to wrap up the week. We take turns hosting at each other’s houses. Tonight, it’s our turn to welcome Alexia and Mapi's family. We all really look forward to these evenings. Having all had kids, they’re just as excited as we are to hang out over the weekend, since they’re such good friends. Plus, it’s the perfect way to unwind from the week. Smiling, I get back on the road, feeling a bit strange about what’s coming next.

I pull up in front of a large metal gate, which opens as I greet the receptionist, who recognizes me. I drive slowly to the rear parking lot, taking my time since I’m early. I enter the first building and head to the break room first to see if I run into anyone. No such luck—the room is empty. Everyone must be busy. So, I walk through the hallway, greeting a few familiar faces, until I finally spot Leah.

"Hey."

"Hey, hello beautiful," she says, kissing my cheeks. "How’s it going?"

"Pretty good. And you?"

"All good. Just finished my rounds. Want me to walk you to your room?"

"Don’t you have other things to do?"

"Nothing more important than escorting my best friend."

I smile warmly and nod.

"Alright then, I’d like that."

We walk in a peaceful silence. A small smile creeps onto my face, and I glance at him.

"Who would’ve thought the two troublemakers of our generation would end up back here, huh?"

She laughs heartily.

"Definitely not us."

I join in the laughter, but we’re interrupted by a voice echoing down the hallway. When we turn around, I’m not surprised to see the director herself.

"Good morning, Ona. I heard about your arrival. You’re here quite early."

"Good morning, Wiegman. I dropped off the kids, so I figured I’d come straight here."

"How’s the family?"

"Wonderful, thank you. And you? How are you doing?"

"Doing well, thanks. I just wanted to officially welcome you on your first day. If there’s any issue with anyone, don’t hesitate to come see us."

"That’s exactly what I was going to tell her."

"Oh, don’t worry. I was once in their shoes, so I understand them, you know. But yes, if there’s an issue, I’ll come find you. Right, Ms. Tyrant?" I say, giving my friend a playful nudge, which makes her laugh.

"Very well. Best of luck on your first day, then."

"Thank you."

We wish each other a good day, and as she leaves, I turn back to Leah, ready to tease her again. For someone who used to mock my wife, she sure has stepped into her shoes at Camp Wiegman.

"Stop teasing."

"Come on! Lucy’s proud of you, you know. Her little protégé has taken over."

"Her little protégé?" she chuckles. "If anything, you’re her little protégé."

"Nope, not in this case. I’m not taking the same position as you guys."

"You’re still her little protégé," she replies, dodging a smile.

We arrive at my classroom, and I unlock the door. Leah stays with me, sitting at my desk while I unpack my things. I have to admit, I’m getting a bit nervous now that I’m here.

"Get your feet off my desk," I scold her.

"Oh, come on. Might as well enjoy the perks of our position."

I laugh softly. It’s true, it feels strange to be here in this new role. Leah stays with me, helping me prepare until just before the bell rings at nine. Now, the nerves are really hitting me. Everyone’s about to arrive, and even though I’ve mentally prepared, it’s hard to know what to expect. Lucy reassured me, saying I’m better than her at educating our kids, so I should be able to handle whatever comes my way. The door to my classroom is open, and I can hear the commotion in the hallway. I take a deep breath and step out, seeing several students waiting near the door. My heart feels heavy with memories. Just a few years ago, that was us standing here. Everyone’s staring at me with wide eyes, but I can’t blame them. If things are still the same, I must be one of the youngest teachers here.

"Come on in," I say firmly, stepping aside to let them in.

Surprisingly, they all enter in silence. Now that I think about it, we were the same way. It’s usually after they sit down that the chatter begins, and sure enough, that’s exactly what happens. As I’m about to close the door, I hear a shout from down the hall.

« Wait! »

I reopen the door to find a young girl, completely out of breath, standing in front of me.

"Hurry up," I say as I let her in.

She gives me a shy smile.

"Next time, be on time. Go take a seat."

Without a word, she picks a spot in the front row, as all the other seats are already taken. Her classmates continue talking amongst themselves. I patiently stand behind the desk with my arms crossed, waiting for them to finish. The first ones who notice me start to quiet down, and soon, the entire room falls silent.

"That's better," I say, glancing at my watch. "That took you five minutes. I hope in future classes you'll do better."

I follow my wife’s advice: Be firm and show who's in charge. I have to admit, it's quite effective. They look a bit intimidated, which I appreciate. If I had let them walk all over me on the first day, I would’ve been done for. A hand goes up. It's the girl who arrived late.

"Yes?"

"Are you Ona Batlle? The one who used to date Bronze, the commander?"

The room stirs with whispers.

"Is it true that you kissed in front of everyone during the exam results?"

I laugh in spite of myself. Wow. Our reputation really precedes us. Leah had warned me that we had become icons, but I didn’t expect them to recognize me, let alone know such details.

"Yes, that's me. Bronze has been Mrs. Batlle for the past eight years."

The chatter picks up again, but who can blame them? I would’ve been the first to gossip with Alexia if I were in their shoes. However, when it drags on too long, I clear my throat. Surprisingly, they all quiet down.

"Well… Let’s keep introductions brief since you already know who I am. I expect you to address me as Mrs. Batlle. I’ll be your homeroom teacher this semester."

I expected them to resume chatting, but they don’t. I have their full attention. Lucy would be proud of me for managing this so quickly. I relax and uncross my arms.

"I have to admit, it feels quite strange being here, standing in front of you."

I manage to make them laugh, but they quickly stop when I straighten up again.

"Ten years ago, I was sitting right where you are. So, I know what it's like to be in your shoes. I imagine most of you are wondering why you’re here, but believe me, if you are, it’s not for nothing. I didn’t accept my situation at your age either. But eventually, I realized I needed help, and now, here I am, teaching my first class."

As I speak, I move away from my desk and lean against it, placing my hands on the edge. The same girl from earlier raises her hand again.

"Yes?"

"Is this your only job?"

"No. To be honest, this will be my only class this semester. On the side, I co-own a gallery with a friend," I explain. "What’s your name?"

She blushes slightly before replying, "Sophia, Mrs."

I smile and nod. Leah had already given me a few names he remembered after just one week. Unsurprisingly, hers was among them this morning. Apparently, she made an impression from day one, and Leah was almost ready to follow her progress in place of one of his colleagues. Now that I see her, I’m not surprised. She reminds me of myself.

"The reason I took on this additional career is to bring something extra to this school that helped me so much. During my time here, I always felt like I lacked a way to express myself freely. That’s why, with the director's approval and in partnership with the Manchester School of Art, we created this class."

Sophia raises her hand again, which makes me smile for good this time.

"Yes, Sophia?"

"This course is just an elective. Will it count toward our final grades?"

"I was just getting to that."

"Sorry..."

"It’s fine. I appreciate your participation. Actually, this year is a bit special. You’ll be my trial class. I don’t know yet if we’ll keep this option in the main curriculum, but this won’t affect your grades. They will count toward your overall average, just like any other class."

The students start talking amongst themselves, but I quickly quiet them down. I don’t need them getting distracted now after being so calm from the start.

"What do you mean we’re a trial class?" a student asks.

I frown and cross my arms.

"I’d appreciate it if you raised your hand instead of addressing me like that."

That silences them. I wait a moment before sighing.

"For this first year, we’re testing the impact of my course. If it reassures you, we were all surprised by the number of enrollments. We managed to form a full class. If this continues, the subject will be offered as part of the main curriculum starting next semester, with an exam three years from now."

"Really?" a student exclaims in surprise.

"Yes, indeed. And as a bonus, the top student will be guaranteed a spot at the Manchester School of Art with an apprenticeship at my gallery, just like I did after graduating from this school."

"That’s awesome!"

I chuckle softly and nod. I didn’t expect such enthusiasm from them.

"I warn you, though, you’ll have to work hard to get there. In class, but also on yourselves. You’re first-years, so I know it won’t be easy. I can even say I know exactly how you feel right now. The first weeks are the hardest, but I encourage you not to give up."

"Easier said than done," Sophia mumbles in front of me.

I smile compassionately.

"I know. I was only here for a year, but I guarantee the experience will serve you greatly later on. You have to understand that no one here is against you. We’re here to help. But if you don’t make an effort and spend your time provoking us, you won’t get any favors."

"It sounds like you’re speaking from experience," a boy jokes.

I chuckle, nodding.

"I am, which is why I’m telling you this. I don’t intend to be easy on you. That’s how you’ll learn and realize your mistakes. I plan to closely monitor your progress and will be very demanding about it."

"What do you mean by monitoring our progress?" another student asks.

I hadn’t planned on discussing this so soon, but since we’re already on the topic, I might as well explain.

"I care about your success. Therefore, if you’d like, we could arrange individual meetings. They won’t be mandatory, but having had my wife as a mentor during my year here, I know that support is essential for moving forward. That’s why I plan to offer the same for you."

"It’s not mandatory, you say?" I hear Sophia ask.

"No, it will be entirely voluntary."

"And what will those meetings consist of?" she asks, crossing her arms with a slightly pouty expression.

A smile forms on my lips. It's amazing how much she reminds me of myself. I was the same way, constantly asking Lucy questions during our first meeting.

"It will be an opportunity for you to open up if you need to. I’ll be a listening ear if you have no one else around. I won’t guide the conversation; it will be entirely up to you. We can talk about your feelings, your experiences, or even just your current life or career plans."

Sophia nods gently. I think I’m already earning some points with her. That would be nice because I have a feeling she’ll be the one I’ll form the closest bond with if she’s as similar to me as I think.

"Why should we even talk to you? We don’t even know why you were here in the first place."

I must admit, she caught me off guard. I didn’t expect her to respond, much less so sharply.

- "It’s true. You ask us to open up to you, but we don’t even know you."

I cross my arms, thinking. After all, she’s not wrong. I, too, appreciated when Lucy confided in me. By sharing my past, maybe they’ll want to do the same. I’m very comfortable with it, so I have no problem discussing it.

- "Alright," I concede. "You’re right."

Everyone sits up, looking very curious. I figured they’d be. I smile softly before saying:

- "Before I joined this school, I was completely lost and very withdrawn. I lost my father after high school, which plunged me into a very dark year. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone. All I’ll say is that during that year, I was a junkie who was abused by her girlfriend."

A murmur of shock spreads through the room. I definitely don’t want to go into more detail for fear of shocking them completely, but they needed a strong statement. They have to understand that anything is possible.

- "I don’t know what any of you have been through, but you need to know that anything is possible. I want to help you escape your current lives. Being here is clearly an opportunity for you. You can start over, but to do that, you have to play along and have the will to change."

I turn back to Sophia, who hasn’t taken her eyes off me since the beginning.

- "Does this make you want to open up to me now?"

Surprise flashes in her eyes before she blushes and nods.

- "Do you have any news about the girl who abused you?"

- "No. My wife helped me close that chapter of my life by filing a case against her. She was found guilty and sentenced for what she did. Plus, she’s forbidden from coming near me, though we don’t live in the same area anymore."

She looks completely taken aback but nods again. I smile softly, crossing my arms. The position I hold right now makes me very happy. This is exactly what I was missing.

- "The idea of offering you the same support my wife gave me is very important to me. However, I really want you to put in some effort in return. So, I’m counting on you, okay?"

Everyone nods in agreement. I think my little speech is finally over. I stand up and walk between the desks.

- "Alright, we can start now. We have three hours today. Or rather two and a half this time. You’re my only class at the moment, so this is the only time I’ll be here. For my first lesson, it won’t be complicated. I want each of you to take a sheet of paper and express yourselves freely."

- "What do you mean...?" a student asks timidly.

- "Well, draw whatever you want. I want you to clear your minds, so draw the first image that comes to mind. You have until the end of class to give me something."

- "Is it graded?" Sophia asks.

- "No. The point isn’t to see who makes the best drawing. I just want to see your skill level at first, but also to get to know you better," I reply. "Plus, it’s how I’ll build my course."

- "Okay..."

- "Go ahead, grab your pencils."

Everyone starts playing along. There’s some noise as they get their things out, but then they all become very focused. All except Sophia, who stares at her blank sheet without being able to draw anything. I stop next to her as I make my way around the room.

- "Is everything okay?"

She shrugs in response. I crouch down, crossing my arms on the table, and she sighs when she realizes I’m not letting it go.

- "Do you want to talk about it?"

- "No... It’s just that what I want to draw is... kind of..."

She trails off. She shrugs with a small, hesitant expression. I understand perfectly, but I let her come at her own pace.

- "It’s kind of dark and personal..."

- "You had to expect that I’d tap into your minds a bit... Why did you choose to enroll in my class ?" I ask.

My question makes her look up. She bites her lip. She’s very hesitant, but that’s normal.

- "I like drawing. It’s always helped me."

I nod with a small smile. Yeah, we definitely have a lot in common.

- "Then don’t be afraid to express yourself on that sheet. Only you and I will see this drawing. I’m not here to judge you, and I’d be the last person to do so after what I just told you about myself."

She looks at me for a long time before giving me a small smile and nodding. I stand up and ruffle her hair as I walk to the front of the room. I sit down behind the desk. From this spot, I must admit Leah was right. It’s strange but really enjoyable to embrace this role. I’ve been searching for a way to help people for a long time, and I couldn’t have found a better solution.

The class goes smoothly, without any incidents. I think everyone understands who I am and how I’ll be for the rest of the semester. It’s a good start. Finally, after a ten-minute break and the remaining two hours, lunchtime arrives. I’m almost relieved because, believe it or not, sitting still for that long is exhausting.

- "You can go. Don’t forget to drop your artwork on my desk before leaving."

I start packing my things as the students leave. Some say goodbye, others just walk out without bothering with formalities. I sigh as I close my bag. This first day wasn’t as bad as I thought. I grab my phone, ready to call my wife, when I notice one last straggler. Sophia is still at her desk, finishing her work.

- "Sophia? Don’t you want to leave?" I tease her.

- "Sorry," she says, blushing lightly. "I was just adding a few details."

She gets up from her seat and hands me her drawing. I take it and look it over carefully. It’s very dark, but I expected no less. She definitely has talent.

- "Uh... Miss? Can I ask you a question?"

I put her drawing with the others in my briefcase before looking at her.

- "Of course. What is it?"

- "After everything you’ve been through, I find it hard to believe you’ve come out of it so well... It just doesn’t seem possible. How did you do it?"

I tilt my head with a small smile. Looks like my call with Lucy will be delayed. I put my phone in my pocket and move to sit on the desk in front of her.

- "Why do you think it’s impossible?"

She blushes again and shrugs, looking at the floor. I reviewed every student file before the class started. Leah described her as a total mess. Yet, here, I just see a shy young woman lacking confidence... Just like I was at her age.

- "I... I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I think I was in a similar situation before coming here..."

I nod, listening attentively. On reflection, she’s stronger than me. In just a few hours together, she’s already managed to open up to me.

- "I really can’t imagine being in your place in ten years."

I chuckle softly.

- "Do you think I could see myself here? At your age, I thought I’d never go back to school and that I’d end up as a bartender or waitress in a restaurant."

She looks up at me with interest. I bet that’s exactly what she thought too.

- "Have more confidence in yourself. From what I’ve seen, you’re on track to be at the top of the class in my subject."

Her lips part in surprise as I continue to smile.

- "Keep art on your side, stay motivated, and find an ally in this school."

- "An ally?" she repeats in a whisper.

- "Yes. Not everyone will be on your side here. For example, I had many teachers who despised me for my behavior. Show them that you’re better than that, and they’ll support you. Nothing is impossible with a little determination. That’s what I said at the beginning of the class."

- "I understand, but who?"

- "Well, anyone. Someone you trust. It could be your advisor... a friend... a girlfriend..."

Once again, she looks up, startled, with flushed cheeks.

- "How did you...?"

I chuckle again. I can’t help it, but this girl is like a younger version of me.

- "You weren’t very discreet during my class, glancing at your neighbor."

Poor thing. Maybe I was a bit harsh with that remark. She’s totally embarrassed.

- "Plus, I was a lot like you at your age," I added. "You’re well on your way to being the new queen of this school."

She bites her lip.

- "As long as I end up like you, I’m fine with that."

- "See? You’re already motivated. That’s a good start. Hold on to that."

- "Could... could you be my ally?"

My smile widens.

- "I already am, Sophia. I’ll be an ally to everyone in this class, but I still recommend finding someone to support you outside of that. Love and friendship are important. Without my wife and friends, I would’ve given up more than once."

She looks at me for a long moment before smiling.

- Alright. I’ll try to follow your advice.

- Great. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m expected elsewhere.

- Oh yes, sorry.

I walk her to the exit, where I see another girl waiting for her. It’s the one she was sitting next to earlier.

- Oh, you’re finally out! I was waiting for you to eat together... Well... If you want to.

- Sorry, I wanted to talk to the teacher, she says, glancing at me. Of course, we can eat together.

The girl looks surprised by her answer. I can’t help but smile. At least I’ve already done one good deed today. She’s starting to open up.

- Cool!

Sophia turns to me with a small smile.

- Thank you, Ms. Batlle.

- It’s my pleasure. See you next Friday.

- Yes. Have a nice weekend.

- Thanks, you two as well.

I ruffle her hair before heading off down the hallway with a smile on my face. At the same time, I call Lucy, who picks up almost immediately.

- Hello?

- Hey, darling. How are you?

- It’s me who should be asking that. How was your first class? Not too bad, judging by the sound of your voice.

- I think I really made the right choice by starting this program at the school. I’ll finally be able to feel useful.

- You’re already useful in so many ways, my love, but I’m happy for you. Wait until we’re together so you can tell me everything.

- Yes. I just wanted to know if you’d prefer salad or Chinese for lunch?

- A salad should do since we’re having pizza tonight.

- Okay, I chuckled. Well, I’ll stop on the way and be there soon.

- I’ll be waiting for you. See you soon. I love you.

- I love you even more, my little commander.

- Hurry up and join me instead of saying things like that. I miss you already.

I laugh heartily.

- I’m on my way now. Kisses.

- See you soon. Kisses.

We hang up, and I get into the car, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Today, I can definitely say that my life is perfect in my eyes. I have a roof over my head, a great job that I love, amazing friends, wonderful kids, and an exceptional wife. The only thing I could complain about is that the rest of our family still lives far away, but at least we have great vacation destinations. James and Jade love visiting Portugal and Barcelona to see them.

One thing is certain: these days, I can be proud of how far I’ve come. It just goes to show that nothing is ever impossible.

The End

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi and ingrid #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso #my fic #woso fanfics

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thedepressedjuggalette · 6 months ago

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You never looked at the evidence if you really believe all they have is cropped screenshots. Your rhetoric about unrelated events in the past has nothing to do with your disgusting attitude towards people genuinely hurt and abused by that monster. It's clear all you've done is do exactly what Lily says to do and refuse to look at what her victims post. They are her VICTIMS. THE SAME VICTIMS YOU CALLED PREDATORS BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO CLICK A FEW LINKS AND READ THROUGH POSTS THAT SPOONFEED YOU EVERYTHING SHE DOES.

Really love how you ignored the fact that I said and I quote "I've watched plenty of videos going into the abuse allegations" and I've even name dropped Ethel (aka Essence of Thought) as an example.

I really loved that. It's adorable. Learn to fucking read.

Also I am a victim of Pedophilia and fyi my abuser actually is a free man because the courts said there was a "lack of evidence". Thanks for reminding of that, asshole.

But let me give you a simple thought experiment that I KNOW you're not going to answer or are going to find a way to weasel your way out of answering:

Lily Orchard stated that her parents were extremely abusive, her sister even stated this in her own blogs and in her interview with Essence of Thought. Her sister's Tumblr Bio even has her bragging about how she was their parent's favorite -- not Lily.

So let me ask you, if Lily's sister was the golden child and Lily was the scapegoat... WHY DIDNT HER SISTER OPEN HER FUCKING MOUTH?

Lily even stated that IF she was such an abusive disgusting asshole her parents would've MURDERED HER. Point blank. PERIOD.

IF Lily's sister was such a favorite, such a golden child, their parents would've killed Lily a long ass time ago.

Now let's look at recent events.

It's been confirmed by Lily and KP herself that KP tried to get Lily and her sister into a call together....

IF Lily was SUCH AN ABUSIVE ASSHOLE...WHO THE FUCK THINKS ITS A GOOD IDEA TO PUT AN ABUSER AND THEIR VICTIM IN THE SAME CALL LET ALONE THE SAME ROOM WITH EACH OTHER NO MATTER WHO THE FUCK THE THIRD PARTY IS????

That shit is NEVER a good idea. But what makes this shit even more sus to me is the fact that KP got UPSET when LILY FUCKING ORCHARD was the one to say "No!" LEAVE THE CALL when this idea was brought up. KP stated this.

Do you want to know what this says to me. This says that Lily wasn't the abuser in this situation.

Lily was having a trauma response.

But Lily's sister was the one open to the idea of getting into a call with her supposed abuser... WHAT THE FUCK???

As a victim of pedophilia I can honestly say to you that if someone tried to get me in a call with my bio father - my abuser - I'd run so fucking far I'd change my name and move to the other side of the fucking planet if I had to.

My own mother tried to get me to interact with my cousins, aunts, and uncles from my bio-fathers side of the family and the answer has always been "No!" every single fucking time.

Why?

Because I don't want to be anywhere near the IDEA of my abuser let alone anywhere near him.

It makes me sick. So tell me why the fuck is it that Lily's supposed victim, Lily's sister adopts Lily's name, actively reached out to one of her friends and even reached out to her on Deviant Art to INTERACT with Lily?

Everything that the sister does doesn't scream "this a victim of an abuser."

It screams "THIS IS A POWER PLAY FROM AN ABUSER!"

So let's look at what this entire situation says to me.

Lily Orchard didn't want to be forced by KP to join a call with one of her supposed "victims" and is her sister who has been BRAGGING about being their parents golden child and could've gotten her murdered at any time said sister felt like it. Lily said "No!" and left the call.

Predators LOVE to have power over their victims. They LOVE having info on their victims and former victims. It's like crack to them. It always has been. So IF Lily was a predator... Why is it that she's been avoiding her sister? Her supposed former victim...

My abuser used the fact that I was just a naive 7 year old against me all the time. That my mom would never believe me. And he was damn near right until he broke up with my mom in another one of their heated arguments and after a month of him being gone I spilt my guts and my mom kept asking me "Are you sure?" until she finally faced reality and realized that he was in fact a predator.

Can't wait to see how you'll ignore all of this shit and all of these questions in the next ask which I'm 99% sure is going to be you twisting yourself into knots to not answer them and bitch about whatever perceived slite you find in this.

Also before I forget I'm mature enough to see that Lily was obviously annoyed and saw plenty of people whining about her about anime and just took it out in that ask and thus I didn't take it personally. I don't have to take every insult someone gives me personally.

I didn't call her supposed victims predators. You just did though LOL. Way to out yourself there bud.

What I've been doing is pointing out that the shit being thrown at Lily is the EXACT same things that have been thrown and accused at LGBTQIA+ people for years, especially in the current Political Climate. Marjorie Taylor Green and JK Rowling have been throwing pedophilia and grooming allegations at the Trans Community for YEARS.

And what makes this shit all the more suspicious to me is that A LOT of Lily's haters dead name her and misgender her so often it's expected of them and when Lily's sister first came on scene, and this was pointed out by Essence of Thought herself, she misgendered and deadnamed Lily until she realized that Ethel was going to continue to correct her so she had to use Lily's name and gender.

It's no secret that the majority of Lily's haters are transphobes so it's not hard to expect that they'd use the very talking points transphobes have been throwing at the trans community for YEARS.

#lily orchard #Mikayla Orchard #Ilovekimpossiblealot #I love kim possible a lot #golden child #scapegoat #tw abuse #vent #vent post #these idiots are starting to get on my nerves #essence of thought #Ethel Thurston

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aismoker · 8 months ago

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How to Bing?

Part 1: The basics

I received several questions about how I create the images I post. So, here are some of the answers. I am no expert and I have not a clue how the algorithms work. There are probably plenty of other ways to make images, but this is the way how I make them. If you have tips or tricks, share them below.

As I have stated before, I use the Image Creator of Bing, powered by DALL-E 3. It is "free", as in: you don't have to pay for it, but it probably collects tons of data, but let's not get into that. I have tried other creators, but at the moment, I think that Bing produces the highest quality images, with the smallest amounts of flaws, although it still happens quite often that too many arms or legs appear in the images. Of course, this field develops so quickly that by the time you read this, there can be thirty other, better creators out there. One of the cons of the creator is that it sometimes blocks your prompts to eagerly. As a rule, just stay away from full-body nudity, sex, celebrities, violence and weapons. In some cases you can work around it, for example, if you create a soldier, often a gun appears in the image. There are other image creators that allow that kind of stuff. Feel free to use those.

Below I explain the steps that I usually go through when I make an image. I put examples along with it. Those are just examples to highlight the point I am trying to make. It is not a process you have to follow step-by-step to create your own images, you can do that in your head.

STEP #1: Composition

Generally speaking, the first things you put in your prompt are usually considered to be the most important, so start with what the focus of the images should be. Do you want the focus to be on a person, than write that down first. Do you want a more overview-like image (for example of a large room, a field, etc.) then start with that.

As you can see below, I created several different images of a man in an office. The prompts that I used are below them.

"A man sits in an office"

"An office with a man sitting in it"

"Portrait of a man sitting in an office"

"A coffee cup in an office. A man sits behind it."

Do you see the difference between the first and second image? In the first, the focus is on the man, in the second more on the surrounding. In the third image, the focus is even more on the man. In the fourth image the focus is on something else and the man is just a background prop.

STEP #2: Specify

With such basic short prompts you usually get decent images, but there is a huge problem: You don't have any control on what the image looks like. In the example above, the men look completely different as do the offices in which they are sitting. If you let the prompts run again, you get completely different men and offices. It is therefore needed to specify your prompts. You can do that by changing the words in the prompt that you already have, or to add stuff.

STEP # 2.1: Change what you already have

By exchanging the words in your prompt, you can specify what you have. I have used the prompt above and have changed the word "man" into different occupations. The differences are striking.

"A general sits in his office."

"A bouncer sits in his office."

"A baker sits in his office."

"A farmer sits in his office."

I have also changed "an office" into "his office", just to make sure that the main figure remains a man. In the case of "general" and "bouncer" the chances that a woman appears are not so big, although it does occur. With occupations like farmer, baker, teacher, etc. the chances that you get a woman are bigger. This is because the generator works on the basis of prejudice, bias, stereotypes or whatever you want to call it. This is logical as the generator has been "fed" images of, for example, generals, who have been traditionally more often men than women. That is also the reason why for example in images of bakers a lot of breads, cookies and other pastries appear, simply because the generator has been taught that that is the essence of being a baker. You can see this as a problem, but it is what it is. Besides, you can always subvert expectations.

Just use your imagination and you might get surprised what works for you. There are, however, some occupations that you should try to avoid if you don't want your prompts to get blocked. For example, I tried "butcher" instead of "baker". In the first attempt I got the images below, but all later attempts got blocked. Based on the images I did get, I think that the generator basically equates "butcher" with "serial killer".

I didn't try words like "murderer", "psychopath" or "male prostitute", but I guess they are also blocked.

Some of the words I like to use to describe men are: "bouncer", "biker", "scally" and "security guard". This very often gives a masculine, bad boy vibe to the image.

STEP #2.2: Add stuff

Changing the things you have can change the images significantly, but with a short prompt like "A man sits in an office." you leave a lot of space for the generator to fill in the blanks. It is therefore important to fill in those blanks. It is, however, important to know, that you cannot control everything. First of all, you only have 380 characters to describe what you want to get. I found out that you can make longer descriptions with the chat feature, but I never used that. Secondly, the longer you make your descriptions, the harder it is for the generator to understand what you mean and it can mess things up. For example, if you describe multiple people seperately, it will happen that the features of one will be copied to the other one, or that they will morph into some creature. Especially if you want to create an image like 1.2 ("An office with a man sitting in it.") with multiple people in it, you just have to accept that the image will probably not turn out how you hoped it would be.

The easiest way to make the images more to your liking is to add specifications to the nouns. You can, for example add age of the people in your images and add more qualities:

"A 30 yo man sits in an office."

"A 60 yo man sits in an office."

"A sinister man sits in an office."

"A muscled man sits in an office."

"A 30 yo sinister man sits in an office."

"A 30 yo muscled man sits in an office"

Adjectives I like to use to describe people are: "muscled", "charismatic", "sinister", "brutal", "athletic", "brutish", "rough" and "rugged". Note, however, that some of these words tend to have some strange consequences. I noticed, for example, that "rough" tends to create men with wounds or scars on their faces, "rugged" gives the men often a fur collar and "muscled" and "athletic" very often leaves the men without shirt or sleeves. Not necessarily bad, but just keep it in mind.

You can add multiple adjectives after each other and it is quite fun to try strange or unlogical combinations, like "charismatic" and "brutal". The generator often comes up with inventive and quite good images! The system has its limits, however, so try to keep it simple. In my experience up to four specifications seem to work okay.

The same goes for the space in which the person is.

"A man sits in a dark office."

"A man sits in a bright office."

"A man sits in a bright smoke-filled office."

"A man sits in a creepy smoke-filled office."

Of course, you can also put specifications after the nouns. I usually use this to describe the spaces (like: "at night", "at dawn", "in a big city", etc.) For people, however, I have the feeling that it not always works.

The images you create with these methods are nice, but not exactly what we want. In order to get there, we have to add more stuff to specify it further. Things I put in here are usually descriptions of clothing, specific features of people and movements.

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. He smokes a cigarette."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. He wears a shiny leather suit."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. He talks on the phone."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. He has shaved his head bald."

You can let your fantasy go loose here and you can add as much as fits in the prompt. Think, however, about what you put in this part and what you put in as adjective. For example, "a bald man... He has shaved his head bald." is double, so remove one of those. I have the feeling that "He has shaved his head bald." gives better results, so I would keep that and remove "bald", but this is all up to you. And if you have not enough space, try to put things in as adjectives instead of descriptions. Don't be afraid to put in this part also adjectives. Just play around with it. There are indefinite possibilities in indefinite combinations.

A few examples:

"A brutal 30 yo bouncer sits in a smoke-filled office at sunset. He wears a leather jacket. He has a black mohawk. He fills out a form. He smokes a cigarette."

"A charismatic 45 yo business man sits in a steampunk office. He wears a biker suit. He has polished his nails green. He pets a cat."

"A handsome brutal 30 yo man sits in an office. He wears a shiny black police uniform. He smokes a cigar. He stares at his phone. The phone glows red."

"A bald 23 yo scally lad sits in a futuristic high-tech office. He has a bushy blonde beard. He wears a shiny black tracksuit. He drinks a beer and smokes a cigarette."

What you should not do is to tell a story to the generator like "A man sits in his office. He is on the phone with his colleague, complaining about his boss, while he writes a report with graphs in it." This will usually confuse the generator. Keep the sentences short and describe what you want to see. The story behind it should be made in your head.

STEP 3: Add a style

One of the last things I add is a certain style. This is not necessary, but it can add a bit of finesse to the image. I either put it in at the end or in the beginning. I am still trying to figure out what works and what doesn't.

"Sepia photo. A 30 yo man sits in a n office."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. The scene is sinister."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. Manga style."

"A 30 yo man sits in an office. Low-angle perspective."

STEP 4: Be patient and practice makes perfect

One of the most important things to keep in mind while making AI-images is to be patient. You can have written the most fantastic prompt, but still the images can look like shit. Don't despair and try it again with the same prompt. If, after a few attempts it doesn't work, try to change a few words. Most of the images I have created are the result of multiple attempts and rewrites. Also, save you prompts in between. A prompt that gets blocked disappears and you will have to start your prompt from scratch.

After some practice you will start to get a feeling of what will get a prompt blocked and how you can circumvent this. For example, I noticed that "police man" has a higher block-ratio than "bouncer" or "man" + "He wears a police uniform". Also, if you want images of men getting towards a climax, use something that might look similar to that, for example "He has his eyes closed in pain".

That's all for now. I hope this helps some of you guys out in making some nice images. Don't forget to share them!

In the next part, I will get deeper into more complex images, with multiple people in them.

To go to part 2: click here

#ai art #ai artwork #ai tips #bing image creator

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aliaology · 1 year ago

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hello! i love all your writing so far, and i was wondering if you could write for trevor zegras? just like, a bunch of fluff and being at the hughes lake house. if not, it’s fine!!

ofc ♡ just beware i dont know trevor as well as i know the hughes brothers so ill do my best!

also tysm for ur support like actually— i just started on tumblr so this makes me feel so good 😭🤍

DON’T GET CAUGHT

summary: reader and trevor are secretly dating and need to keep quiet!

pairings: trevor zegras x cousin hughes!fem!reader

warnings: SHORT AGAIN IM SORRY.

the thrill of hiding your relationship felt exciting but so terrifying. although your cousins, cole and alex weren’t the brightest, they weren’t stupid either. they could catch on easily if you or trevor slipped up.

thankfully, neither of you have, yet. you kept everything behind closed doors, as much as you could. but thankfully, you got plenty of time with him, alone.

around 10:30 pm, everyone would be sound asleep. except for you and trevor. you two would giggle as you snuck outside and to the docks. you’d sit at the edge, your side pressed far into his. your hands would be intertwined.

his thumb would rub the side of your hand gently, in a calming manner that made you feel safe. your head would fall onto his shoulder and both of your legs would be ankle deep into the water unless it was too cold.

you two would sit in silence, watching the world around you change. watching the stars light up the night sky. he would watch the little balls of light reflect in your eyes. you would watch the way the waves moved slightly. he would fall in love with you. you would hold onto him tighter, and fall in love with him.

in the mornings, you would be up by 5:00 am, before the rest. you took morning runs and would make breakfast for everyone, in silence. that was until trevor adapted to your schedule, so he could have more time with you. there were days he would stay by himself though, allowing you to have time to yourself because you never get those.

when it was midday, and the boys were out and about, he would steal small kisses from you when no one was looking or around. whether it be in the hallway when you two pass each other, before you go to the bathroom, in the kitchen when he’s the last one out. one time you two almost got caught because he decided to kiss you right with the boys in front of you.

quinn thought it was too quiet and turned around, thankfully you two were paying attention.

you’ve had many, many close calls.

example:

“trevor they’re right next door.” you quietly laughed. his smile sent you over the moon as he gazed down at you.

“oh come on— they think im in the bathroom, just let me kiss you” he said in a hushed voice.

you let out a laugh as his head ducked down and his lips met yours. your arms hung loosely around his neck.

you two kind of set yourself up for this. the door was wide open as you two kissed in the middle of it. “how long does it take to piss, dude?” jacks voice rang through the house, muffled by his door.

“ill check on him” quinns muffled groan followed, along with his footsteps.

you two immediately jumped apart, you rushed quietly to your bed, sitting down and grabbing your journal, making it look like you were writing but stopped to talk to trevor, who leaned against your doorframe.

quinn opened the door and saw trevor against your doorframe. “dude, what are you doing?” he questioned.

“talking to y/n… why?” trevor asked.

quinn gave him a weird look before slowly shrugging. “just wondering… you coming back in?”

trevor nodded and went back in the room.

all in all, you and trevor were not the stealthiest when it came to your relationship. lets hope it stays that way.

might do a part two where everyone finds out xx

#trevor zegras #jack hughes #hockey #quinn hughes #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #x reader #jack hughes x reader #answered 🤍

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thisuserislilsilly · 1 month ago

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Summary: How much can secrets be kept from the Imperium?

Pairing: MENTION of Ogodei/Hildegard (Hildegard belongs to me, the Phantoms as a Chapter belongs to the OG creator @cardinalcanis), MENTION of Jubik/Ascilen (Ascilen baby my boy @jaghatai-khock is precious OG creator)

Genre: Drama/angst

TW: Physical torture, mental torture, a lot of dialogue, blood, angst

Goblin tag squad (lemme know if you wanna get tagged too): @finchly-tintinnabulation @cardinalcanis @jaghatai-khock @artemisareia @echo-of-damnation @meervalv0

Protecting the family

???: Ogodei...is that your real name? From before you were an Astartes?

Ogodei: Our Chapter let us keep the names our mothers chose for us after the trials are completed

???: Huh, interesting tradition, I thought every Marine followed the article about naming conventions

Ogodei: Excuse me? What article?

???: Codex Astartes, page 4032, "About a Marine's name and life", article 9004

Ogodei: I did not had that page bookmarked, sorry —chuckles—

???: —slamming hands against a table— Oh you think you're so clever, don't ya Ember Nomad?

Ogodei: Not as daddy's perfect boy like you, Robters

Robters: My patience is already running out, Nomad, I'll remind you the Primarch Guilliman authorized the Howling Griffons to question your loyalties

Ogodei: Oh please do not come at me with that shit; it was not a direct order from a Primarch, you Griffons were just waiting for having a excuse to throw suspicion at our faces...

The room was filthy, covered in blood stains here and there, the lights flickered and were dangling from the ceiling; Ogodei could barely see beyond the handcuffs on his wrists, the skin was already sore underneath. Only a few hours ago had the descendants of the XIII Legion arrived unannounced, more than half of their Chapter embarked the Nomads flagship, not waiting for any formal introductions or permits to get it. Who looked to be the Marine in charge was lifting in his right hand a parchment with the Ultramarine insignia giving the Howling Griffons full authority to inquire their cousins about recent rumors of strange behavior and seeds of heresy between their ranks. In the following couple of minutes the Griffons had already hand-picked five Marines to interrogate, bringing them to the room in question where Ogodei was being held. He had been the second Nomad to enter.

As for the Captains, they had been separated from their companies, much to the protests of Jubik and other veteran captains that had spent much of their time with their men only to be ripped apart in an instant; the 10th was the most affected of them all, with the scouts lost and confused as to what was going on and why did they not have authorization to access the common rooms of the ship.

Robters: Don't go dozing off on me, come on there is plenty to discuss

Ogodei: That is an interesting way to spell out "torture"

Robters: I am not the bad guy here Ogodei, I just want answers, if you cooperate I do not have to force my hand again

Ogodei: Like what? Do I need to answer how many times do we recite a prayer to the Emperor? How many candles do we have in our rooms or do you want more spicier answers as how frequently we showe-

Robters: —Slaps the Nomad across the face— I had it with your mockery of our rules, you fool!

Ogodei: —Grumbles as he accommodates in the chair— Fine....fine I will..."cooperate"

Robters: That's better...now; are you aware of the Viridian Phantoms?

Ogodei: —soft chuckle— More than you can imagine

Robters: What is that supposed to mean?

Ogodei: I have good relationships with them, for example they allow me to enter their ships without authorization and let me watch their traditions. That is trust between cousins Griffon...you could learn from that

Robters: I will not indulge in your provocations Ogodei...you would do good in staying as far away from them as possible

Ogodei: And why would I ever listen to an advice such as that one?

Robters: —Sighs— Because they are...how could I put this gently for you-

Ogodei: You have said enough things to make my blood boil and my mind to imagine your death Robters, just say it

Robters: They're tools, more than you and me could ever be in the hands of our beloved Imperium. I take you've looked at their faces at least once; repulsive, that's the word I think of when I remember them

Ogodei: So you have not looked yourself at the mirror recently, I presume

Robters: I will make you scream for that one...but you know nothing good has ever come out of Krieg

Ogodei: Funny, the Macragge system has Nuceria in it right? Oh sorry..."had"

The Nomad felt the Griffon kicking his chair out of the way, letting Ogodei smash his head against the table, then lifting him up by the hair and start throwing a flurry of blows against his face over and over. Robters did not stop until his hand was red, soaked in the blood of the other; he let go of Ogodei hair and watched as the Nomad struggled to keep himself conscious, his breathing weezing from the broken bones in his nose.

Robters: You done, you savage piece of shit? Or you want more?

Ogodei: No, I think I am fine like this, thank you for the concern

Robters: —Huffs— You've been warned Ogodei; stay away from the Phantoms if you don't want me coming back here and finishing the job

Ogodei: I'll be sure to wait with a Ultramar cake recipe so you don't go hungry-

Despite the pain, despite the punishment his body suffered for the next twenty minutes, Ogodei never stopped laughing. The bones in his hand ended up broken, one of his ribs was broken, skin around his left eye was purple and bloated and lower jaw had been dislocated by a nasty right hook but in the end Ogodei got the last laugh, he got to spit in the face of the Griffon, watch that face contorted as nothing of what he threw at the Nomad made the Marine flinch; realizing he would get nothing out of Ogodei, Robters finally released him and threw the Marine out of the room, furiously calling out for the next suspect to enter the chamber.

Ogodei was carried to the medical wing by two of his brothers, each one holding one of the injured arms and keeping him on his two feet. The Nomad was delirious, chuckling out of nowhere or just speaking absolute nonsense; he did not manage to recognize anyone nor where he was exactly. He stared at the ceiling, eyes staring at nothingness while the minutes went by in total painful silence. He couldn't even feel his body anymore.

After an incalculable amount of time had passed, the doors of the medical wing opened once more, a commotion formed outside, shouting and bickering becoming louder as someone past right beside Ogodei, picked up a stretcher and then returned to the outside. The Nomad was so hurt he couldn't even sit himself upright to see the scene, but he guessed someone else had come out of the torture chamber and in an even worse state than him; but nothing could had ever prepared Ogodei for what came next.

The stretcher rolled its wheels until stopping right beside the bed in which Ogodei found himself. There, with a rebreather in his mouth and wounds so worrisome Ogodei would had thought the Marine dead if not for his very subtle breathing, Jubik laid motionless. The long beard was dyed red, his eyes were closed, his lips dry, the rest of his face looked disfigured to the point Ogodei guessed it would take multiple surgeries performed by the finest experts apothecaries of the Chapter to restore the resemblance of how Jubik had looked like before entering that cursed room.

"Old...man...are...are you...still with us? Brother...brother..." Ogodei called out in a whisper

"I...didn't broke...my promise...I didn't tell him...shit..." The veteran made a massive effort to even modulate those words

"I know....I know..." Ogodei winced from the pain, hissing as he felt his sides burning

"They are....safe....my sunshine...and my little bird...." Jubik tried to smile, but even that caused him pain

"You already...have a nickname for them..." Ogodei smiled faintly

"I...protect my family....my brothers...and my love..."

The two Nomads laid there, in silence, until they fell unconscious; their bodies having endured more pain and suffering than the last ten campaigns combined. Ogodei thought, for a moment, what would had Hildegard thought if she had seen him in this state, what would've Ascilen do if the captain had spoken those words to him; he thought they were dying, their songs would end in such a shameful way; not undone by their enemies or by a worthy sacrifice, but slowly, in pain, on a medical wing that wasn't even of their Chapter.

Luckily for the Nomads, however, someone very dear to them was about to stop that from happening.

#fanfiction #custom warhammer chapter #warhammer fanfic #ember nomads #warhammer 40000 #oc space marines #warhammer 40k #fanfic writing #wh40k oc

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run2min · 2 years ago

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Hiii!I was wondering if you could do some Kyungmin from 8turn head cannons ,or what you think he'd be like as a bf!Take care!Make sure you drink lots of water and get plenty of rest!Tysm <3

my first ask!!! yes ofc i can do kyungmin headcannons (he's my bias wrecker too)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 534

i feel like he'd be so protective over you, like the minute one of the members looks at you he'd hold your hand or kiss your cheek

he'd take you on such cool dates, i have a thing for aquariums and i can soooooo see you and him going on a date to an aquarium, you'd probably start comparing all of the fish to your friends and eachother.

because he's debuted so recently, i feel liked he'd be stressed out a lot so he loves when he has alone time with you!

as we know, him, haemin, yungyu and seungheon all share a dorm room so i can see you and him cuddling in bed, talking about your day, enjoying the alone time together, before yungyu runs in telling you both about the dance him and yoonsung leant together (alone time with kyungmin is short but sweet!)

as for the other members, i can see them being really accepting of your relationship, treating you with as much love as they do eachother!

i can imagine him lying on his stomach, with you sitting on his back giving him a massage when he's stressed/ tired with work.

can 100% see him calling you "baby" and "sweetheart"

Whenever i think of Kyungmin's voice, i think of a sleepy morning voice (no reason i just do); and i can just imagine him waking up in the middle of the night to you tossing and turning in your sleep, he'd prop himself onto his elbows and reach out to lightly grab your arm, releasing a grumbled "baby, are you okay?", you'd wake up realising you'd had a nightmare, "it's okay," you'd reply, "go back to sleep,". He'd lay back down and fish his arm around your waist, pulling you into him and start giving you half-a-sleep butterfly kisses across the back of your neck.

On one hand i can see a relationship with kyungmin being really playful and unserious, but i can also see him being serious when he needs to be. For example, when he meets your parents, he'd be super nervous, which is a side you rarely see. He'd spend the whole night praising you to the heavens and ever so often whispering things into your ear like, "does she like me?" and "was that joke actually funny, or did your dad laugh because it was awkward?". He'd be so obviously self-conscious to the point were you'd have to pull him aside and tell him that there was nothing to worry about and to calm down.

At other times though he'd be so unserious, if you went to high school together, i can imagine you and him skipping class to sit and mess around on the roof, but if you got caught he would just laugh the whole time you were being told off, causing you to both be punished even more, if you were really mad at him for doing this (but lets be real, who could stay mad at his face?), i can see him turning to you and saying "god sweetheart i'm sorry.......I really am", he'd be saying this while still doubled over laughing at the situation you were both in.

Hiiiiiiiii! thank you so so so much for requesting, pls pls pls request more! it motivates me! i hope you like these headcannons for our lovely Kyungmin!!!!!! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!

#8turn #8turn kyungmin #kyungmin #Jo kyungmin #8tun headcannons #run2min asks!#kyungmin headcannons

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yourbookcouldbegayer · 6 months ago

Note

Hiiiii!

To premise my ask, I am finding difficulty making my two male characters go from friends to dating subtly. Like in a way that makes the reader go ‘OH’ when it comes out. I'm mostly struggling because these are teenage boys who make gay jokes(nonoffensive, just basic stuff I see people do all the time like “that was a little fruity bro” or “if you like me like that just say it” also if that is offense let me know, I'm straight and struggling a bit😭) in friendly banter.

If that was hard to read let me attempt to summarize:

How to write two non main characters subtly start dating?

Idk. Im also new to romance so anything is helpful!

Thank you for reading my nonsense ramblings!!!!

Hey there! Disclaimer: this blog is fairly inactive now, sorry-- most of the mods got busy and and I lost the energy to run it.

However, this is primarily a writing question, and I like talking about writing, so I'll give my advice:

There are 2 questions here: 1 is if their gay jokes are okay, 2 is how to have a background romance.

1: The problem I see here is, if these characters are not out as queer to the reader (like if the reader knows they're queer but not that they're dating), this could definitely read offensive. I don't like hearing about straight people making jokes about us-- the reason gay people might call each other fruity or other terms is mainly ironic or to reclaim those terms. If I'm in a room of straight people making those jokes it makes me uncomfortable bc they're punching OUT, while amongst other queer people, the jokes are made funny because everyone there knows the others ARE queer. Context is important.

That said, there's definitely times where things like that seem to set up a ship (that we have a history of thinking will never be true, but is more and more common). For this I think the joking flirting is perfect. So I think joking flirting is fine.

"Fruity" and other terms, even queerr and gay-- or jokingly homophobic jokes (like, I say to my partner all the time, "that was gay, we don't do that here" and it's completely a joke), may come off wrong. Some things I just do not want to see as a joke period, no matter who says them, how out they are, even if the speaker is queer. Some things I find fine to joke about irl but don't think should be in books because it does reach a wider audience (there's nuance there, no hard and fast rules, but there definitely are things I wouldn't mind jokes about but wouldn't want repeated in books). And then there's plenty of lighthearted stuff that is perfectly fine for queer characters to joke about just like people do irl. I think "Fruity" as yourr example is probably okay when it's from queeer characters but might cause some discomfort if I think the people saying it are straight. (That said, fruity is usually used for gay men, I am not one, and will ultimately differ to those who have more experience with the term).

That said, I think your best move is: let it slip to the reader, or make it kind of obvious, that ONE of them might be into the others, or is queer. Some comment nearly in, some special focus on that character, flattering descriptions of men, or jokes about themselves being queer (or if you're up to it, they come right out and say it).

2. How to write a romance behind the scenes:

My advice? Write it.

I've seen a lot of advice that writeers first needed a warm-up. Before you geet into writing your main story, spend like 15 minutes writing the two of them interact. Have them flirt, have them confess, have them cuddle or do things for each other. Look up fluff and ship prompts, even AUs.

Then, or at the same time if it jives with you, plot out their romance alongside your regular plot. A few points to decide when they happened: when they each started to like each other, when they admitted it, when they went on a first date, when they had sex for the first time (or if, this is optional), other points in the world relationship-- using your fluff scenes as inspiration.

Then you know where they stand. You can add little moments into the main story now. You can have them have an inside joke that they reference because you actually know what happened! (Though, tell us later, after revealing it, even if it's quick). You can have them spending time together that the MC doesn't think that much of.

This romance will not be in the main story, so you don't have to be good at romance. It can be dumb and cringe, or lack real chemistry, bc no one will see it.

The way I describe this sounds like a lot, but my advice with sketching the beats out and writing small scenes can apply to any sub/background plot you have. Really you may only spend like 4-6 sessions doing a warm up with them, then switch to different characters or background scenes or just rewriting smth from a different character's POV, and then plot out the beats once before moving on to another background thing.

If anyone else has any ideas about writing a suble/background romance, feel free to chime in!

-Mod Emma

#mod emma #romance #sideplot #subplots #romantic subplots #queer jokes #queer slurs #writing advice

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echoedcrosshairs · 2 years ago

Text

The Portrait ~ Boba x F Reader

Plot: You, a daughter of a former bounty captured by Boba Fett, are asked to paint a portrait of the new Daimyo although you despise him you can't help notice the growing tension. 🖤Enemies to Lovers 🖤

Warnings: second person narration, no y/n, suggestive sexual content, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is 41 canonically), lots of petnames (Little one & Old Man), praise kink, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens; protective Boba moment~> violence, Enemies to lover & sort of slow burn and eventual smut. This is a build up chapter.

Word Count: 6.7k

Masterlist Part Two

🔞no minors allowed🔞

Yes I know I need to go through all of my stories because small typos.

Boba sat in a darkest corner booth of the cantina waiting for his prospect to arrive but something was bugging him about her name it sounded familiar but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. He had arrived early to avoid being noticed by the crowds who came in during rush hour as Daimyo every knew his face and who he was but he wasn’t in the mood to be bowed at. He had his shawl covering his armor and his helmet tucked in beside him, knowing it’s shine would make him stand out. He brought his drink to his lips letting his eyes wandered to one of the dancers, although she was gorgeous but not gorgeous enough to distracted him with her curves and elegance to notice the prospect walking over. He blinked admiring the features in your face and the way your hips swayed as you walked towards him. He knew the confidence of female hunter when he saw it, alluring yet on the prowl. He let his eyes travel along the entire noting all of the empty concealed pockets.

"Do you two need a minute?" you laughed sitting down looking between him and the dancer, "I would hate to come between a hunter and his prey. She is rather pretty"

"I admire. Nothing more," he said curtly not liking the fact you noticed what he tried to hide, "I am retired," he added, “and to old to be chasing such beautiful creatures.”

"Once a hunter always a hunter. All you traded was one type of bounty for another just with less stakes but that's semantics," you said dismissing it.

Boba studied you carefully curious to what would compel you to so bold and brazen with him, "I take it you are not found of how I run this town?" he asked simply not letting any emotion or interest pace his course rough.

"No your rule is not one with an iron fist nor disappearing villagers in the dead of night or making examples out of petty things. I just do not care for you," you said pulling out your dust covered sketch book flipping the page of him taking away your father and your father's imprisonment in stone, "Getting to the subject. All supplies must be paid for up front, the entire can change once I started however you’re still wearing the same thing so I don’t think that matters and point me in the direction of the nearest lodging. I can begin as soon as the supplies arrive," you said closing the sketch book and returning it to your bag. Your eyes caught swift movement of hands of the person bringing both of you drinks, quickly pulling out the blaster out of your art bag dispatching one fatal shot you caught the tray with the drinks and dumped them both into a flower vase watching them quickly wilt. That’s what I thought, I need this try again later. You sat back down putting the blaster away, "What?" said noticing him staring at you.

"You loathe me yet saved my life, interesting" he said studying the expression on your face, "with such tenacity and efficiency."

"I may have talents outside of painting. I would hate to lose such an important commission before it was complete."

"Indeed," he said finally blinking looking at the corpse being dragged away, "stay at the palace, plenty of food and rooms to choose from," he offered.

"I'll take whatever room is furtherest from you," you grinned pulled the pad with the out the list of supplies and upgrades handing it to him. His leather glove brushing against your hand taking it, it sent a cold shiver up your arm like you just touch death.

"Consider it yours, I'll send someone to pick up all of these premiums," he said in attempt to ignore the fact brushing up against your finger set a jolt of something down him. Fear? Anticipation? She's a daughter of a former bounty and I just invited danger into my house. He stuck out the pad, Fennec taking it from whatever spot she was hiding.

"I should have most of these by sunrise, one or two might take a few extra hours," she said nodding walking off with the pad.

"I know my way to the palace," you said standing up eyeing the women he was looking at earlier, "Enjoy yourself for a change," you let out a small harsh laugh, "Try not to get killed until the commission is completed."

You walked away pretending not to be in a hurry about your heart was racing and your hands were clammy just being around him. He was a dangerous man with a temper for disintegration and being ruthless with how audacious and brash you were talking to him wondered if he had the mind to disintegrate you. What was I thinking? He's a client at this moment, nothing more. Your mind wandered back to that night when he took your father and showed him off to you in carbonite. Your fist balled but you kept walking, you had half the mind just to get off this sand ball but the other half wanted the money and the recognition for something other than the fine marksman the ire had turn you into too. Now he was an aging man, ‘retired’ and you didn't know if it would be worth it if he wasn’t in the game. Yet the muscles in his arms and the coldness in his face suggested he was still ever bit the predator... one who had a disgustingly charming gravel voice and it set a shiver down your spine.

"Are you sure this isn't a conflict of interest, little one?" You heard Boba's voice emerge next to you.

"Being in the same persec as you is a conflict of interest but this is business as you well understand," you couldn't help but notice the annoyance seeping out over his company, although the sound of his voice was better then silence. You didn't bother look at him as you kept walking, "Also don't call me that, I'm not little nor a child," you added.

"Why take the commission?" He asked finally letting his curiosity get the best of him.

"It's you I have to thank for my talents whether it's through a paintbrush or a blaster." you said harshly still not bothering to look at him.

"You could just take the money and go-"

"We both know there's no honor in that, although I don’t think I would ever consider you honorable," your tempter starting getting the best of you, you finally stopped and stared at the T visor helmet forever engrained into your memory, "I am here because I have to prove to myself you are nothing then a man to not some assassin droid in the shadows without a thought or care."

You watched him stand still for a moment before putting his hands clasp behind his back, "You speak your mind without thought of the repercussions or hesitation, I respect that," he said starting to walk again, "I even admire it."

Your lip twitched but you followed after him in silence. You kept nonchalantly wiping your hands on your pants, feeling like an angry fool living in the past but you liked the praise from him sending goose bumps down you.!What the hell is wrong with me? It was a silent trek to the palace after that, thankful you didn't continue making a fool of yourself publicly speaking to him like that in view of those still up at this hour. The doors of the palace swung up, you walked in not bothering to wait for an invitation which was custom on Tatooine.

"Still want the furthest room or do you want to face that fear too," you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Just point me to an available room and show me the location."

Boba lead you to a long hall way more adorned with fineries then the others. He pointed to the door on the left, "Yours," he pointed to the door on the right, "Mine. This way," he said turning back heading towards the throne room.

You scowled following after him realizing where he was taking you, "Of course it's the throne, how pretentious," you mumbled sarcastically taking out the sketch pad.

"Do you have a better idea?" Boba said stopping mid step turning to you, "you are the artist after all, where would you choose in my position."

"Each previous Daimyo has had his done on the throne using it as display of power and fear. If I wanted to prove my rule was different, I would do mine somewhere to show who I am underneath."

He nodded, "Have you ever seen the Tusken huts?"

You were taken back by the question, "Not up close, no."

"Wish to take the Rancor for a run or a speeder?" he asked.

"Rancor," you said stepping up to his obvious challenge to test your nerves further, "It's been a while since I've been on one."

"Let's see if he's awake. So you've ridden one before?" He asked calmly but intrigued.

"Once or twice," you said opting to give the least amount of information knowing he was digging.

Boba smiled knowing it could not be seen, "The riding boots your wearing covered with your pants suggest other wise," he said done playing coy that he didn't notice the little things, "one of your many talents I assume?"

"Perhaps," you trying to keep the irritation out of your voice glancing down at your foot wear that you didn't bother to change when you were done, "or perhaps I wear them because their comfortable and made to take a beating. Perfect for function, comfort and a sleek appearance."

"I'm sure they are, little one," he chuckled watching your face force smoothness on it. He couldn't deny he was interested in you in more ways then one, you were beautiful, complexed and smart but perhaps just as dangerous and unpredictable as he was at that age regretting putting your room so close to his if you had the urge in the dead of the night to unleash vengeance upon him, "How about a bargain?" he asked.

"What are you proposing?" you asked crossing your arms following him into the throne room looking down into the pit.

"Every day you get to ask me one personal question until the portrait is completed."

"What do you get out of it?" You asked because it sounded like you were getting the better end of the deal.

"Hopefully not feed to my rancor in the middle of the night," he said with laugh, the sound made you blink. It was warm and kind, rough like his voice but it reminded you of a shot of whiskey after a long day. He watched your face falter for a second after his laughter, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you enjoy rubbing my fathers fate in my face?" You said boldly, looking down at the sleeping rancor.

"No however I hoped it would prevent you from going down the same path."

"What path would that be?" You asked tartly looking back up at him feeling his eyes linger on you.

"One without the need to follow in his shoes"

You studied him as he studied you, "Funny," you mused.

"Indeed," Boba said realizing it was what set you on this path. He lightly tapping the bars to see if the Rancor would wake but it's soft snores he was out for the evening, "A speeder it is."

"Did you ever find him?" He ask heading towards the main doors.

"What was left of him to find."

"I'm sorry."

Those two words hit a nerve but also shocked you. Your mouth fell agape but you shut it not knowing what to say to the statement, the man who turned your life on it's head... apologizing? You followed him outside to the one speeder realizing you were going to have to share. You wandered if you both were thinking the same thing, how easy it would be to toss each other off.

"I'll ride in the front," he said giving you the upper hand waiting to see what you would do.

"I'm personally holding you accountable if I get hurt due to your driving, old man," you jested trying to hide the anxiousness of climbing on behind him having to hold his waist.

"Then you better hold on, little one. I'm not that old."

"Are you sure about-" you shut your mouth holding him tighter as he took off full speed towards the Dune Sea. You felt the chiseled muscle under his clothing, red subconsciously warmth spreading across your face. It made you sick that you had a reaction to him, the lingering smell of leather, blaster smoke and sweat didn't help. You tighten your jaw reminding yourself of the monster you were clinging too as he enjoyed riding the waves of the sand.

"Having fun?" He chuckled feeling your cheek burning into his back and your arms tighten around him as he took another bigger sand dune. It took a lot of self restraint not to move his hand to yours and tease you but knew you’d probably shoot him if he did.

"Extremely," you said sarcastically thanking the maker when he stopped so you could let go and hop off.

Boba watched you quickly take out your pad to engulfed in your work to notice the approaching Tusken's. The Tusken's recognized him, signing his name. He nodded to them in greeting and preceded to explain why they were out this late, that he would send them food as payment for the disturbance.

"They want to see," Boba said pointing at them.

His voice pulled you out of the composition of art to notice the raiders standing next to him. You gulped, you were not fan of the Tusken's for their violent nature towards outsiders and it didn’t help that the Daimyo was very comfortable around them. You carefully walked towards them showing them the sketch of the hut. They made a noise and you looked to Boba raising an eyebrow.

"Their impressed."

"Thank you," you said nodding your head, they handed you the pad back allowing you to walk back to the spot and continued your art.

"Tribe?" the Tusken signed looking between the two of you

"No, Business."

The Tusken nodded signal for him and his companions to leave. Boba walked over looking of your shoulder watching the hunt come together with the rough sketch of the Tusken in the foreground.

"Done?" He asked watching you look at the pad then up then back down.

"Yes."

"Let's get back to the palace, it's getting late and creatures should be waking up," he said climbing back into the speeder feeing your arms go around his waist again but this time he didn't feel your hands as sweaty against him.

When you both arrived at the palace, Fennec was waiting different sizes canvas. Boba picked a medium sized one, modest yet large enough to be noticed. Fennec kept her eyes on you the whole time.

"Do you want me to have guards outside?" she whispered wondering if you could be trusted.

"Just one discreetly at the top of the hall if it put your mind at ease."

She gave a small nod, "What you think of her?" she asked quietly watching you pull out your sketch pad looking over your work.

Boba just slightly turned his head not to make it obvious, "One of a kind."

Fennec rolled her eyes, "Friend or foe?" she corrected.

"Both," he admitted, "Good Night," he said to Fennec raising his voice back up from a whisper.

You cocked your head to see him heading back inside, you followed after him sketching out a simple speedy portrait of his face. You caught up to him and knocked on his helmet, he turned catching your wrist pulling it away.

"Helmet off," you said pulling your wrist back.

"So bossy, little one."

"So deaf, take it off old man," you said bringing your pencil back to the pad waiting,

He took it off, you examined the lines in his face quickly sketching them out. You were to distracted with the lines to notice his brown eyes boring into you. You were raptured in artist inspiration staring at him, your hands moving seamlessly across the paper noting every healed scar and various shades of brown to gold in his eyes. You finally looked down red creeping back into your face as you sketched his shoulders and the top of his armor.

He looked down at the paper stunned, "May I?" he asked holding out his hand. You stared at what was probably your best rough sketch but handed it to him. "It's absolutely marvelous," he said examining it closing looking at ever scar and remembering the cause to each one, "Your marvelous," he unintentionally whispered.

"I know," you said grabbing the sketch back and walking towards the hall with the bedrooms, flushed and angry. You noticed the bags that you tucked away at the Cantina you were going to go back to retrieve were sitting the end of the bed waiting. You groaned tossing your art bag on the bed and setting the pad on a big wooden ornate vanity. You unpacked the essential clothing you needed and various toiletries. Your head was swimming and knew you couldn't sleep, you grabbed your toilets stepping into the hall. Your face flicked up when you heard footsteps, a single guard walking a catwalk above.

"Where's the bathroom?" You asked watching him walk to the end of the hall and point at a door. He spoke a language you didn't understand, "Thank you! I think,” you called.

You opened the door, staring at Boba in a towel around his waist water still trickling down his pecs and abs. You quickly pulled the door shut, "That didn't just happen."

Your hand quickly shot up to your eyes when you heard the door immediately open "I'm sorry he doesn't speak basic," you said trying to defend yourself.

"Unfortunately it did. Dank Farrik! Next time I'm going to shoot you in the knee cap! I could have still been in the crinking shower!" He called up the guard who was laughing suddenly stilled. He noticed your hand over your eyes, "I'm not that bad to look at," he laughed, "I was just leaving," he said stepping around you, "I'll have them come in and fix the other one tomorrow promptly."

You uncovered your eyes for a moment watching his muscular back as he headed towards his room before quickly getting into the bathroom and shutting the door realizing there wasn't a lock on it. I seriously can't believe that happened. You turned the water up to match how hot your face was. You discarded your clothing, neatly putting them on the what looked to be hand carved precious stone counter. You ran your hand across it, still cool. Maker that had to cost which ever Daimyo a fortune. You shook your head and stepped into the shower hoping the heat would wash away the embarrassment. After spending a fair amount of time scolding yourself clearing your head you stepped out and noticed a couple of credits with a note on your clothing.

"It didn't happen -Fett."

You stared at the forty thousand credits your mouth fell open. I need the money but no way I can accept this much, I'll just slip part of it into his room or something. You quickly got dressed and peaked your head out the door to see if he was there, you breathed out in relief. You groaned the moment you got to your room noticing the small fruit assortment on your bed. I don't know if I'm more embarrassed or he is. You moved the fruit to the vanity and crawled into bed, you laid awake into the night before finally prying yourself up deciding fresh air might help you get situated with your temporary reality. You tucked your blaster in your waist band and found your way to a balcony overlooking the city.

"You too?" you heard Boba's voice behind you.

"Yeah. Are any of the cantinas still open this late?"

"One, you want to go?" he asked.

"I need a drink... or five if I'm going to be sleeping in the room across from you," you admitted.

"Likewise."

Both of you quietly walked into your rooms and changed. You dawned a form fitting dress with a side holster and boots with hidden knife pockets. You opened the door and found him waiting with holding his helmet.

He did his best to keep a straight face over the entire, "Expecting company?" He said pointy looking at the blaster as an excuse to look at your figure before looking back up at you.

"Always except the unexpected, that's how you stay alive in this line a work," you said as you started walking.

"Which is our problem," he said following after you.

"Another bargain perhaps?"

"You don't trust me and I don't trust you, I could simply move into lodging like I wanted too or we could drag the other bed into the others room so we can at least hear it coming," your throat dried up, “because I can’t think of a reason why I would want to trust you. You can only out run your past so long before it catches up.”

"What ever your comfort with, little one-" Boba stopped looking at your dress and then speedier.

"Dank Farrik," you mumbled motioning him to get on, hiking up your dress an indecent amount throwing your leg over it, "Why can't they just make flattering dresses with pants?" mumbled uncomfortably exposed to him.

"You now have plenty enough to get some tailored to your design," he suggested.

"I can't accept all of them for something so little, not even for this predicament," you said, "Got a problem or something that my skills can be used for?"

"I'm sure I can think of something."

He let you get off the speeder first to adjust your dress before getting off himself. You both kept each other arms lengths apart. Heat rose to your face thinking about how close his back had been between your legs. You did not and would not like this man. Eyes on the prize, finish this commission and get the creds then get hell away from this monster. No Boba Fett is a man, this commission is to prove that. He's not the boogie man, at least not any more.

He opened a door letting you go in first, the cantina nearly empty except for a few stragglers. He watched them eye you then back at him with a nod of respect. You walked up to the bar hoping he wasn't going to follow you. You noticed him hovering the door and you smirked.

You slide in the stool seat, "Whiskey, double," you told the bar droid, who dropped a shot glass in front of you and poured it. You slammed it back and tapped for another.

"I'd hate to see you on a bad day," Boba laughed joining her after eyeing everyone again to see if any one was going to make a move. Given most of the men in here were older then him he was pretty confident that no one going to given she also came in here with the Daimyo.

"This?" You said lifting the third shot, "is barely the appetizer for today."

"The same, sir?" The droid asked him.

"Yes."

Both of you sat in silence, while Boba caught up on the shots. He watched you down a couple more, the tipsiness finally started to show. The warm glow of alcohol spread across your face, wondering if you always looked just as a beautiful regardless.

"Might want to slow down, little one," he said eyeing her twitch trying to focus, "You don't look like it would be a fair fight." He watched her pull out a blaster and bull-eye a painting on the wall. He tossed some credits to the droid as an apology, "How did you get so good?" He asked wondering if the circumstances were different he if he could convince you to stay.

"Practicing praying one day I would get a chance to kill you and everyone else associated with my father," you admitted, "I looked for you in every shadow praying and our paths would cross.. then you fell into the Sarlacc a few orbitals ago. I realized if I could not kill you... I could kill the idea of you and prove you don't have to have Fett running in your veins to be good." You felt the few horrified gawking stares at the disrespect and contempt laced words coming out of your mouth. The whiskey had loosened your lips a little further then you intended, "That that counts as your one personal question of the day."

"I do also get one personal question?" He asked taking his last shot knowing he was going to have to drive both of you back.

"It's only fair," you said sliding the shot glass back to the droid, "done." You said cutting yourself off knowing your mouth was only going to get worse. "I may have had to many." You admitted.

You stared into Boba's eyes, counting the shades but the slight double vision made it difficult, "five or six" you muttered pulling your eyes away, "color shades in your eyes. Can't tell right now."

"You're drunk," he laughed, "let's go home, little one."

"Stop calling me that, old man."

Boba scooped you up and put you over his arm like a nap sack, "That's enough out of you." He tried setting you down realizing you were asleep. He carefully set you in his lap holding you with a vice grip as he drove one handed back to the palace. He saw Fennec doing her patrol and shook his head carrying you inside and setting you on his bed. He looked at you debating if he wanted to have Fennec come in and change you but doubted she'd be there right when you woke up to explain. He carefully pulled off the blaster and set it besides you. He grabbed a bantha hide and curled up on his armoire couch, looking at you more time wondering the type of person you were under all of that hurt.

You felt the sun shining in your eyes, Wait my room is opposite of the sun, you took in your surroundings the various artwork on the walls and target practice posters. Fett’s room? You looked over and saw the closet still open with several flight suits. Your head was pounding but you got up feeling for your blaster finding it laying next to you. At least I’m still in my dress. You scurried back to your room munching down some of the fruit arrangement and black melon which helped. You opted for pants discarding all of the dresses back into your bags, Never again. You tapped on the refresher door when there was no reply you opened the door and quickly did your business. Leaving the refresher you found Fennec standing outside your bedroom door.

“Good morning,” you offered opening the door letting her in.

“All of the supplies are in a work room for you, along with food, one hall over with the blue door.”

“Thank you,” you said still trying to dry your hair, “You guys wouldn’t happen to have a shooting range or something?” You asked noticing the rifle slung on her back.

“Two halls over down the stairs behind the orange door.”

“Thank you again,” you said putting the towel around your shoulders.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“No. I don’t know why either of you would need me for anything but if I’m not in this room or the work room, you’ll probably find me in the range.”

She nodded quietly backing out of the room, Friend or Foe? rung through her head. The exchange had been minimal but she didn’t see a gundark waiting to strike which alarmed her further. I’m a good judge of character, but I still can’t answer that question.

Fennec found Boba sitting on the throne, “How was your patrol?”

“A couple hooligans needed a stern talking too, that’s all.”

“She’s awake. She’s been informed the supplies have arrived and where her work room is, inquiring if we hand a range and I told her where to find it.”

“Good.”

“Is something on your mind Boba?” Fennec said noticing the short answers.

“Thinking about something she said. Wondering if my past has caught to me and if this is my undoing.”

“I can get more guards-”

“That won’t stop someone on our level. She no longer seems to want revenge, old man,” he said shaking his head “I want to know what she really wants with the commission.”

“Have you tried asking?” she suggested half heartedly.

“No but that would be my personal question of the day,” he muttered getting up to head to the work room, “summon me when our guest arrive.”

Fennec arched an eyebrow but nodded. You had various sketch pads out using them to sketch quick ideas how the portrait should look using various compositions with shadow and foreground and background ideas along with one or two the rancor was in too.

“Come see what you think” you asked hearing the door open, you looked back to see you were correct that it was him.

“That one.”

“Consider it yours.” You smirked throwing the sentence back at him, tearing the other ones out and set them to the side to dispose of later, “Is there something I can help you with?” you noticing him not leaving.

“What do you have so much riding on this commission?” He asked.

“Pride.”

“That isn’t much an answer.”

“Does it count as your personal question of the day?”

“No.”

“Than that’s the answer you’re going to have to live with,” you said eying him taking a seat.

You don’t know how long it had been until Fennec stuck her head in, “Daiymo, they have arrived.”

Boba excused himself to leave you to your art. The next few days where like that. Quiet. Every day his chair got a little closer until he was sitting next to you. Time to time he would stop to ask you questions about art, your favorite things to draw and other various things about you biding time for you to ask him question. It was a nice little routine as much as you despised him it became to comfortable. You eventually took to sleeping during day and working on the piece during the night as an excuse not to have to see him. You missed the company but every morning Fennec joined you at the range. It was small talk mostly but it helped dull the loneliness. Fennec left earlier this morning to go take care of an errand, leaving you alone in this big palace. Given some of the guards didn’t speak beside your only reprieve was the animal in the pit. You found your way to the Rancor kneeling before it, offering it a large slab of meat staying in routine of the past couple days. You smiled as the Rancor finally accepted your status as below him.

“Where is she? She’s not in her room or painting,” you heard Boba say concerned, stifling your laughter.

“She hasn’t left the palace-” Fennec said looking down hearing you.

“Someone’s losing their touch, old man. You know I ride yet you didn’t look down?” You huffed disappointment, finally getting to scratch the Rancor’s cheek, “I don’t recommend putting leash on me however, I bite.”

“I can’t even pet him,” Fennec said staring, “and I live here,” she muttered.

“Rancor respond to a social hierarchy and as I have no interest in staying, I made sure he knew he was the boss of me. Unlike me, Fennec you scream predator which is why he doesn’t respond to you. You have to be both hunter and prey,” you said standing up and wiping the dirt off your butt, “being a one sided blade only gets you so far, it’s those who are two that survive.”

Boba looked at you noticing how seamless the Mandalorian philosophy rolled off your tongue with such an easy explanation. Boba eyes trailed after you pinning. He was use to every woman throwing themselves at him having his selection of whatever fascinated him that evening. Even as Daimyo women fanned over his power and wealth having to let down several mothers trying to sell off their daughters to him.

“Well, I got my painting in for the evening so I had to wait for that to dry. I’m going to go the Cantina before going to bed,” you stared at the paint you missed on your foreheads and elbows, “after I apparently shower. Again,” you groaned walking off grumbling about paint and how it always ends up in weird places.

“You like her don’t you?” Fennec asked smiling watching his eyes trail after her, “Old man,” she said wiggling her eyebrows, “You’ve killed people for less.”

“She… reminds me of another time. I think I’ll accompany her discreetly. No need to follow.”

You shower daring to wear a flowing dresses with two discreet slide slits that overlapped to hide the thigh holsters, “At least I can ride a speeder in this.” You found Boba standing outside the door waiting. His molten gazing temporarily holding you in place, “I figured I’d give you a ride.”

“I am quite capable of getting there on my own,” you said inserting your independence staring back at him.

“You are… quiet the capable woman,” he said noting the heighten chemistry today, “but I need the speeder today.”

You looked at this features feeling sick about how in depth you studied every scar, crease, shape of his nose and the depths of his skin, “Fine, let’s go,” you said looking away first, “but I’m driving, can’t risk crashing in this dress,” you said doing the best to ignore the tension that has been slowly building since you met him and the playful banter he allowed you to get away with. Just awhile longer.

He waved his arm forward, “Lead the way.”

“You haven’t asked your question today,” you asked glancing him.

“I’m sure it will come to me before you go to bed. You haven’t either.”

“I’ll let you know when I have one,” you said tossing your legs over the speeder realizing this was the worse idea you ever had but you didn’t want to have to explain changing your mind. You felt him climb on, you took a quick silent intake of air when you felt his cod piece nuzzled up to your ass. He gently wrapped his arms around you placing each hand on your hip. You bit your lip and turned on the speeder taking it near full speed to the bustling cantina. Boba was like the sun of Tatooine pressing against your back and his gloves pressing you where felt like heaven wishing you could take them for your self. Getting off the speedier for a split second you could feel the cod piece rub against your ass. I need some company because that isn’t happening.

“Take this,” he said tossing you a device, “Call me when your ready to get picked up,” although I don’t intend to let you be here alone. Boba took the speeder around giving it the appearance that he left before letting himself inside through the side door. His eyes spotting you at the counter with a shot in hand. You took himself to an empty booth a distance away tucking away his helmet and covering his armor to blend in. The droid brought him over a drink when he saw a man slide into the stool next to you. Boba blinked because the man was about his age. Anger starting boiling over when he saw him put hand on your leg watching you light up and smile at him.

“What is a goddess like you doing in a temple like this at this hour?” the man asked.

You smiled at the comment, “Hopefully enjoying some company for a bit,” you dared, watching him put his hand on your leg.

“I don’t mind keeping you company,” he said ordering to drinks.

He’s no Boba Fett, but he’s still cute to look at. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking such thing. Both of you chatted the conversation coming easy, there was no playing coy or calculated responses it made you miss having company because Fennec and Boba weren’t quiet conversationalist. You felt eyes at the back of your neck, you scowled for a second realizing it was probably Fennec keeping an eye on you or someone under here.

“What is it?” He asked concerned.

“Oh it’s nothing, I lost my train of thought.”

Boba watched every action his jaw setting tighter and tighter. He watched as the man leaned in kissed her. Boba’s gripping on the shot glass caused it to break. Your head turned again and you saw broken glass but not the person sitting in the shadows. Just a coincidence. Right as you started to lean back in you saw him pulling his hand away from your drink and a whipcord shoot out dragging him to the dark booth.

“Bantha Fodder,” you heard the growl from a familiar gravel sounding man, watching him step out in the shadows.

“Caraya’s Soul Fett! For kriff’s sake,” your blood ran cold for a moment staring at the helmet the man wired on the ground before taking out the blaster and shooting the man, “I get it he was going to drug me, but did you really have to stalk me? I could have handled it on my way,” you said putting the blaster away and getting in his face. You stuck your finger on his chest and gave him a small push, “I don’t need to be babysat let alone by you of all people.”

Boba looked down shot him again watching him disintegrate into dust, “You were saying?”

“I guess we’re even now,” you huffed pulling your finger off him watching retract the wire and putting his arms in front him. “I’m going to a different cantina, this time don’t follow me.”

You tossed a couple creds down on the table and leaving hearing his foot steps behind you and the heat from his gaze boring into the back of your back. You whirled around to find him standing there with his hands still in front him.

“I said don’t follow me,” you watched him talk a few steps towards you standing face to face, face to helmet.

“I am the Daimyo, I go where I want.”

“That is exactly why I don’t want you here! No one will talk to me or even look at me when your around. You know what it’s like to sit in silence alone for hours! I hate it.”

“Why don’t you talk to me?” he taking off his helmet, stepping forward pinning you in place with his gaze.

You saw the dilation in his eyes and his uneven breathing, “That’s why.” Feeling heat rush through you and your legs stared feeling like jello under his gaze. You could felt the heat go to your head, your mind emptying but conflicted if you want to kiss him or kiss him your knuckles. You knew your eyes had the same hazy expression thinking about when you found him in the towel, the water and muscle. You weakly stepped back ripping your eyes off of him, dizzily turning around trying to your legs under you. “This is business,” you said finally getting them moving, “Get a concubine or something,” you snipped, “isn’t that what Daimyo’s do.”

“I don’t want one” you heard him whisper.

“I don’t want you too either,” you gritted out not hearing foot steps behind you.

#boba fett!sh #boba fett smut #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett #boba fett x reader #book of boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fic #boba fett x reader smut #star wars fan fiction #star wars smut #starwars smut #starwars mandalorian #book of boba fett smut #the book of boba fett #the book of boba fett fanfic #book of boba fett fanfic

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creative-caramel-coffee · 1 year ago

Note

Hii

can I please request a fic for Weems and maybe Thornhill where reader gets a nosebleed in class or something idk.

Thank you.

Nosebleed

Pairings: Weems x reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: You get a nosebleed in class and make a run for it.

TW: Blood, more blood, one swear word

A/n I am really projecting in this fic. Basically, all of it has happened to me expect you know, the whole nevermore part obviously (I wish tho)

Botany was one of your favourite classes by far but today you were exhausted. Enid had woken you up at the crack of dawn to tell you some gossip that “simply couldn’t wait.” You loved enid but that didn’t stop you threatening to give her a buzz cut in her sleep if she cut your sleep short again.

Ms Thornhill was stood at the front of the room talking about something our other. Based off the notes enid was taking in blinding neons gel pens it had something to do with inhibiting the ability of seers. Honestly you would photocopy her notes later, with the black and white printer of course this wasn’t your first rodeo.

You were staring off into space not really paying much attention to the real world when you felt your nose start to run. Dammit. You couldn’t get sick now. Electing to ignore it until the last possible minute still have wrapped up in your daydream you felt enid elbow you.

“Dude.” She said and you glared at her. “Your nose if bleeding.” She hissed in a loud whisper.

“Shit.” You said and brought the back of your wrist to the base of your nose. It came back with a bright red streak, and you immediately cupped a hand under your chin.

Ms Thornhill had paused for a second not really being able to see you past the plants.

“Ms L/n? Anything you’d like to share with the class?” She asked and you stood quickly staying out of sight.

“Nope all good. Be right back.” You said “hopefully” you added under your breath and the way Enid’s eyes widened told you she heard it. You turned on your heel and raced out of the classroom. Ignoring the calls from your botany teacher to return to the classroom. You hurried through the halls the red blood pooling in your cupped hands. You weren’t really paying much attention to the halls; everyone would be in class now anyway.

You had had plenty of nosebleeds in the past, so the start of the new year was always fun. New teachers who were unused to it often worried or tried to send you to the nurse making a big fuss. But by the end of the year, you would simply leave to take care of it in the bathrooms and return to class later with the simple question of “nosebleed?” To which you would say yes and return to your seat. Nosebleeds were just something you were used to.

So many different scenarios in the past. Being pulled out if school swimming lessons because you hadn’t noticed your nose was starting to bleed. That was awesome your hated swimming.

Of course, there were some less than ideal times for it. For example, waking up in the night and not being bothered to deal with it so you simply laid down some tissues on the pillow, sent a quick prayer to whatever god was awake at 2am so you wouldn’t drown in your own blood while you slept and rolled over and gone back to sleep.

In other words, you were simply desensitised at this point. You had had more nosebleeds than regular runny noses so much so if it ran your first thought was it was bleeding not running. But you guessed the less than adequate sleep from last night had contributed to the lack of awareness. You could often catch it before it dripped. Giving you enough time to grab a tissue. However, the idea of going in front of the class, which was partially made up of fledgling vampires wasn’t your idea of fun. So, you fled.

You were navigating your way to the nearest bathroom when you collided with someone, apologising profusely before carrying on.

Had you stopped you may have realised it was Principle weems. Principle weems who was wearing a white blazer which now had a red spot on it. She frowned before recognising it as blood and hurrying to follow you. She made note you weren’t going to the nurse or even remotely in the direction of the infirmary and decided to intervene. She shifted and removed the blood from her clothes and straightened her blazer before pushing open the door to the bathroom.

She peered in and gasped softly. You were stood trying not to touch anything with your bloody hands while your nose dripped onto the white porcelain. You seemed to be experienced in the matter which only made her more concerned.

“Ms L/n? Are you quite alright.” She asked coming and placing a hand on your shoulder.

You looked at her in the mirror and frowned.

“P-principle weems.” You said

“Yes darling.” She said and you connected the dots.

“Sorry for running into you. I was … preoccupied.”

“Multitasking in can see that.” She chuckled and walked over to the paper towel dispenser. She pulled out a few sheets and ran them under the tap next to the sink you were still hanging over.

She walked closer and gestured for you to give her your hand.

“But … it’s covered in blood?” You said.

“Yes, darling i know. That’s why I’m going to clean it.” She said softly and you let her wipe the blood off your hands before disposing of it and going to your other side to wipe it off the other hand.

Once your fingers were clean, she grabbed another sheet of paper towel and placed it on your upward facing palm which she used to hold your chin, her other hand coming to your cheek to guide your head to look at her.

She watched as it bled and surveyed the bleeding tilting your head back very slightly, she knew it was best to make sure you kept your head held forwards, but she wanted to check everything was ok. After a moment she guided you back over the sink and threw out the slightly bloodied paper towel. She washed her hands and came back to stand beside you.

“Darling the bleeding is slowing so we don’t have to take you to the infirmary.” She said and you scoffed, which made her raise an eyebrow.

“Based off your reaction and general demeanour towards…” she gestured to the sink, “this. I’d say this is a common occurrence, correct?” She asked and you nodded as best you could. You waited and after a few more seconds the bleeding had fully stopped.

You rinsed out the sink and the principle came with a wet paper towel to dab the blood from your top lip and cheek. Once she was done, she threw it in the bin along with the others.

Giving you a once over with her eyes she smiled.

“Well. I think you should get back to class. I’ll give you a note for Ms Thornhill.” She said and laughed at the expression on your face.

“How-?”

“Darling why do you think I was heading to your classroom?” She said and you nodded and chuckled to yourself.

“Well off you go. I’ll email Ms thornhill.” She said and ushered you back into the hall before setting off back to her office. You turned to leave, and the footsteps stopped making you turn back to check on her. She was facing you and chewing her lip slightly. When she caught your gaze, she sighed.

“Darling if you ever need anyone to help with this or the aftermath. Send someone or come get me love. Blood doesn’t bother me.” She said and you thanked her and went back to class.

MASTERLIST

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brightdarkness-2013 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: Chapter 5?! No Way!

Summary:Prowl gets a new hang out.

Blaster and I had decided that our mer friend needed a place to go during the day. Being trapped in the cove and swimming in a tight circle around the rock wasn’t the best place to swim. There was no room to stretch and the water was only up to our waists if we stepped in. His injuries were healing rather well and it was painfully obvious he needed more space to move. Thus we set off one afternoon in search of a good spot along the shore. A little trekking through some light brush, grass, and some long stretch of beach littered with so many shells our steps crunched no matter where we stepped we found a little place far enough from the town it was unlikely anyone would head out here. The little cape was void of any garbage or evidence that anyone had been around the area. Even if there were some people who came out there were plenty of rocks and patches of seagrass to hide in. So early the following day we coaxed our mer friend out with some m&ms.

“Come on.”

We were running along the coast, our mer easily keeping up. We’d give him an m&m every once in awhile to keep him from turning back. However he didn’t appear to be thrilled that we were only giving him one at a time if that glare he gave us every time we threw one was anything to go by. Blaster and I on the other hand were laughing like we were having the time of our lives. Once we got to the slope that separated from the water our mer hesitated, giving out a few quiet sounds as he watched us as he lifted his head from the water.

“We’ll meet ya on the other side.” I reassured as I made the motion of going around something though he just gave out another noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine. “We’ll call ya if you get lost. I promise.”

Off we went again. Once we made it to the cape I stuck my hand under the water and snapped my fingers like I did to call him so many times before as Blaster called for him. Thankfully it didn’t take long. All in all the discovery of a safe place with more space had put our friend in a better mood. We’d still feed him in the cove on weekdays, but on the weekends we’d head down to the cape where we’d talk and watch our mer stalk the wildlife there. Either creeping around the rocks or hiding in the seagrass. The fish in the cape were small, but it wasn’t like he needed it to survive with us feeding him. I’d whistle little tunes every once in awhile and Blaster would watch as our mer gave me questioning looks. And one day I had my inspiration. Sunday at ten am I had it.

“Prowl.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what I’m going to call our mer.” I answered as we watched him.

“Prowl…” Blaster tried out the name. “It fits. You can only hope he thinks so too.”

“Eh, he’s a fish with-”

Blaster gave me a mildly disappointed look and I just grinned. “Mammal.”

“Ok, he’s a mammal with an attitude, but I doubt he’ll care too much what we call him.”

“Fair enough… Please tell me you haven’t been referring to him as a fish this entire time.”

“In my defense I assumed so because he lives in the ocean.”

“So do dolphins.”

“Oh whatever that’s one example.”

“Whales.” My friend was grinning smugly now.

“Shut up, Blaster.”

Blaster just laughed and I shoved him over onto the beach where he just continued to laugh much to my dismay.

444444444444444444 Even more fours!4444444444444444444

“Jazz! Finally! I’ve called you like twenty times!”

“I’m kind of celebrating my sister's birthday right now.”

“Oh please you’re in the corner with your headphones eating all the sweets.”

“I’m outnumbered and last time they locked me out in the backyard and ate all of the cake in front of me because they thought it was funny.”

“It was.”

“Blaster.”

“And it was good cake. Ice cream and oreo.”

“Blaster!”

“Ok, ok so I went out with Gaven and you’re never gonna believe what happened.”

“What did you find a giant squid? Did you fall in?”

“No. Prowl helped us fish. He herded them into the net. Gaven nearly fell off the boat the way he was leaning over the side. Kept yelling at me to get the camera.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. He must’ve seen me leaving with Gaven and followed. We got a ton of fish and Gaven even shared some with Prowl afterward.”

“I bet he was happy to have some live meat for once.” I couldn’t help, but laugh.

“You have no idea. He seems to be doing much better. I didn’t realize how much those wing fins helped. He can take some pretty sharp turns now that the right one isn’t torn.”

“Maybe if he can keep helping ya and your stepdad he won’t leave.”

“Jazz, if his pod comes I doubt he’s gonna stay and settle for a fishing boat. Not exactly a good pod member to befriend and bond with.”

“And what if they don’t? What if they’re dead? Maybe herding fish for ya guys will be enough to make him stay. I mean that’s basically what he did when he hunted with his pod, right?” I fidgeted in my seat as the girls laughter in the next room erupted.

“Possibly… But he can’t just stay in the cove.”

“And why not? If they’re dead he has nowhere else to go. What is he going to do out there alone? I don’t want him to just die out there.”

“I don’t either, but if he does decide to leave what then?”

“I don’t know… I just don’t want him to go. I mean we’ve made some great progress. He stopped growling at me. He twitches an ear fin when we call his name. I think we’ve bonded.”

“I know what you mean, but… Just… Prepare yourself for the worst and hope for the best. Maybe they’ll come.”

“Is it really that wrong that I kind of don’t want them to?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t want him to go either, but he misses them.”

“... Is there a possibility that he could be accepted into another pod? You know if they are dead and he still leaves?”

“I have no clue. I doubt he’d want another. They’re his family. Pods may mingle from time to time during a breeding season, but I don’t think they join unless they absolutely have to.”

“So that’s a no.” I let my head fall back in my chair as I blindly reached for another treat.

“Certain types are different and have different ways. I only have the barest knowledge on mers. For all I know they could be completely accepting of new members.”

I sighed and silence reigned for a time. In the end Blaster was the one who broke the silence.

“Sometimes there’s just nothing you can do, Jazz, no matter how much you want to.”

“I know… See you tonight at the cove?”

“I’ll be there.”

First

Masterpost

#brightdarkness #fanfic #jazz #merformers #transformers #mer!prowl!#merprowl #prowl #blaster #transformers blaster #transformers prowl #transformers jazz

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goodbysunball · 8 months ago

Text

Digital monsters

Sneaking a few in before April's done and gone. Many of these musics were experienced digitally only for the most part, whether it was due to lack of a physical product or expensive import prices, none of which now apply (except for the Stone Rollers) as I finally get around to posting this. Ian's making Light Metal Age tapes, MIKE just put Pinball on CD, I finally pulled the trigger on KNÆKKET SMIL, etc. Still, the car is the place where most listening is done these days, an unavoidable and really-not-that-bad reality. Windows down, these up:

Maria Bertel & Nina Garcia, KNÆKKET SMIL (Kraak/No Lagos Musique/Otomatik)

It would not be much of an understatement to say I'm a bit burned out on free-improv-jazz and adjacent records, but a live video posted earlier this year by @dustedandsocial piqued my interest in this duo. Nina Garcia shreds and mangles the guitar in a manner both controlled and explosive, like the best no wave auteurs, but the draw here is what Maria Bertel does with the trombone. She pulls these long, drawn-out notes from the belly of the instrument, like glass fibers being pulled from a melt, reminiscent Phill Niblock's arrangements for cello or voice. There's plenty of scrape 'n skronk coming from the trombone, too, like on "Trick & Illusion," but I find the bass-y drones to be more interesting. The end result is a brittle, harsh push-pull between the relatively free guitar and the more grounded trombone, where it often sounds like the two are running in circles in a room with their eyes closed, occasionally colliding to combine forces. When they are not at odds, as on "Nightmare of a Lunatic," the results can be thrilling. At other points on the record I am reminded of Harvey Milk's "Pinnochio's Example" (the title track), later-period Sightings ("Lost Arts," "Twin Truths") and the instrumental side of Khanate ("Playground of Blind Forces," "Inorganic Body"). Given how this is presented - bare, without any perceivable ornamentation or post-production - it makes for a tough listen; you've gotta be in the mood for something this harsh and unadorned, 'cause meeting you halfway isn't happening. But, if you've any affinity for old instruments hammered into new shapes by inspired/inspiring hands, there's some powerful, almost-mystic energy wafting from the grooves.

Bobby Would, Relics of Our Life (Digital Regress)

Bobby’s back, continuing his partnership with the esteemed Digital Regress label, who brought his STYX release to the LP format. STYX was dedicated to his mother, and initial listens have left me convinced that Relics also appears to be wrestling with her passing. Unlike STYX, which contained tracks like "Hype On" that worked themselves into something resembling upbeat and energetic, Relics is a comparatively somber affair. It's bookended by two quiet instrumental tracks ("Runaway" is especially good), and in between is more skeletal, maybe even refined, version of Bobby Would. The overall effect here is often reminiscent of Wonderfuls, or Lewsberg on In Your Hands: gossamer-thin arrangements, sparkling guitars, slow tempos and mumbled vocals. While there are points where Bobby Would presents as a bit listless or hopeless, it never stretches to the maudlin, mostly due to the opaque phrasing. As on previous BW releases, the lyrics are still usually little more than repetition of single phrases until they become profound, which works especially well on these subdued arrangements. The more I listen, the more it sounds like a natural progression from his last two proper LPs, the subtle refinement of a now-signature sound. Like “Maybe You Should” from World Wide World, “Tryin' 2," "Is It Nice Now?" and “No More” rank with some of his best slow dancers; "Explain" and "All I Do" feel like Baby's grown now, using only the necessary elements to create a song and cutting the tape when it's done (not that Bobby Would has ever had a problem with economy). The only misstep here? The hidden track at the end of the physical record, a cover of UB40's "Red Red Wine" (no fucking joke), and nothing more need be said about that. The nine tracks that properly make up Relics of Our Life deserve to be lived in, spindly guitar lines swirling around like smoke and mumbled vocal incantations taking you elsewhere for the duration. Another unassuming gem from the surprisingly durable Bobby Would.

Light Metal Age, s/t (self-released)

In retrospect, I think Gen Pop's PPM66 is one of the best records to come out in the past decade, wringing modern ennui by the neck to squeeze out lyrical inspiration, nailing down a balance between catchy and smart in an impressively effortless way. That record flew, and still flies, under the radar, unfortunately, and the band is no more. Light Metal Age is the new project of Gen Pop's Ian Patrick Corrigan, and it sorta picks up the thread of PPM66, but veers off into the countrified black humor of Country Teasers ("Quil Ceda"), lonesome new age ("Oakland 2017"), and a chilling minimal synth track ("Garage In Meridian"). Corrigan's vocals sound like Bill Callahan in his early days as Smog, but in content he appears to be searching for a place or meaning or some sign that the world isn't as backwards and cruel as it actually is. I think opener "What He's Done" is my favorite song of the year so far, a perfectly dusty guitar line paired with deep, reverberated vocals coldly presenting a personal inventory (“Tattoos since he was 20,” “$20K he owes/20 years to go”). It’s all tied together by the chorus of “You said let it go/But do you know/what he’s done?,” the anxiety of being a prisoner of your past neatly summarized. “Quil Ceda" is my other standout favorite, the biting line "It will make you sick" now popping up in my head all too often as I go about my days. Really, there's something to like on every track here: the double-timed portion toward the end of "T.U.L.I.P."; the rain-soaked, pre-dawn alleys conjured by "Garage In Meridian"; and the subdued Ben Wallers impression on "Gaps In the Material." Sure, "Oakland 2017" is maybe a bit long and saps momentum plopped in the middle, but this seems more like a mixtape than a finished product, and I've come to appreciate the cracks in the tracks forced together. I've been playing it non-stop for nearly two months now, a potent distillation of the young American's modern struggle, laid out without self-pity and the right amount of simmering discontent. Can't ask for much more.

MIKE & Tony Seltzer, Pinball (10K)

Here’s an unexpectedly economical and breezy offering from MIKE, produced entirely by Tony Seltzer. Not sure what Tony Seltzer did here to allow MIKE to let down his guard and puff out his chest a little, but it’s a welcome change of pace, if a bit forgettable. Seltzer’s beats aren’t going to have many rappers come calling, but they’re exciting enough jumping off points for MIKE to try on different personas. I get hints of UGK-era Bun-B (named checked in “Underground Kingz,” as required), Young Dolph, and Lil Baby in MIKE’s rapping on Pinball, and it’s fun and jarring to hear him rap over trap beats like “Yin-Yang.” For all his efforts, the album lags in spots - “100 Gecs,” “Underground Kingz” and “R&B” have become laborious over multiple listens, the beats sputtering, the rapping losing steam without MIKE’s usual emotional overflow. But the opener “Two Door,” the unassuming bounce of “Skurrr” and "Pinball," and the Niontay-featuring “2k24 Tour” still connect, MIKE throwing off a satin boxing robe and sparring with whoever. It’s true that overexposure to this album over the past few weeks has probably taken away some of its luster, but hearing MIKE in this capacity paints a more complete picture of him as an artist. Short ‘n mostly sweet, with no tears, Pinball’s sure to be a steady listen through the punishing summer ahead.

The Stone Rollers, The Ballad of Bill Spears (self-released)

Are the Woolen Men done? Nothing official on that, but members are shifting priorities to other groups: guitarist Lawton Browning is in Change Life, and the Stone Rollers features WM drummer Raf Spielman. The Stone Rollers have been releasing single tracks, one at a time, since September of last year, and The Ballad of Bill Spears puts all four tracks together. It's a separate project and unfair to compare the two, though there are strong sonic similarities to the Woolen Men. The Stone Rollers are bouncy and hard-strumming, somewhere between folk protest songs (yes, there's harmonica) and country with a punk edge (but obviously not as bad as that descriptor conjures). In the spirit of the best country songs, the Stone Rollers don't restrain themselves from saying some really mean shit on these songs, taking people to task with an acid tongue and leaving without apology. I like all four songs - if you're not listening to the lyrics too closely, these are breezy pop songs with the strong character of the '60s - but I think "The Shell Song" and "You Can't Reach Me" are the two best. The former has the harshest lyrics ("When I see you down the line, I hope you're not the same" and "I won't wait around to see what you become/because good or bad I do not care at all"), and "You Can't Reach Me" is an ode to the dream of escaping "my life/bound up so tight" for the greener grass. All four tracks are simple and effective/affecting in an immediate way, familiar but bristling, classic-sounding but unmistakably modern. A nice teaser from the Rollers, who I can only hope will excoriate this feeble review on an upcoming track.

#Maria Bertel #Nina Garcia #KRAAK #Bobby Would #Digital Regress #Light Metal Age #Gen Pop #MIKE #Tony Seltzer #Stone Rollers #Woolen Men

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alexanderflowerbird · 12 days ago

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Hey I am writin' shit have a look at some of it yippeeeee lol Taglist: @theskeletonprior @tragedycoded @badscientist @thelittlestspider

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Mercedes is relieved to be out of the house. She knows that when she comes home her momma will pretend like she wasn’t angry about the plate, that they’ll act like it never happened, and while it will sting for her far longer than it will for her mother, the sting will fade too, with time. Taking Buttercup out for a ride into town is always a nice time, she’s a well mannered horse, and unlike some of the other horses they keep on their land, Buttercup isn’t afraid of the monsters unless they act scary. She’s fast, not so fast that she might outrun the more voracious monsters on the territory, but fast enough that she’s gotten Mercedes out of trouble plenty of times. Mercedes knows the way to town by heart, even if the road isn’t anywhere near by and the only paths are recognizable to the people whose horses pounded the dirt out to make them.

She wants to take a little detour, and she knows she won’t get in any trouble for it because it’s early in the day and she’s got plenty of time to do all her mother asked, to get new plates, have icecream, see Chaswhi, and come back home. She wants to go see if she can finally get the Ishmael beast to let her close. Her mother would kill her for her… extracurricular interest, but what her mother doesn’t know won’t get her screamed at for thirty minutes and sent to her room. The monsters that wander the territory were once vicious, endlessly hungry beasts that hunted the people they loved like prey, but after a while most of them calm down and keep regular loops for grazing and shade and running, like animals more than anything else. Ishmael is a stubborn old goat, goat-ish, almost goat, at least in that his head is that of a goat with long, double wound horns and huge eyes that have slitted, sideways pupils.

He is unlike anything she’s seen in the books Felina lets her read about animals around the world, but still familiar in that his body, like many of the monsters, is a combination of many things. He has the head of a goat with eyes too big and bulbous, hind legs that are hoofed like horse hooves and have long, shaggy trails of fur on the hinds and a long, scaly tail that ends in a tuft of fur he uses to swat flies away like horses do. The strangest parts of him are his front arms, which make no sense physiologically, but are a perfect example of the strange ways nature on the territory can express itself, producing creatures and plants that ought to defy nature, but are, in that way, supernatural, extra natural even. His arms are furry, but they are… Mercedes knows the word, but it’s always hard to remember. She calls them prayer arms, because she sees them most often on the red and brown mantises that are common in the more arid blots of wild. Raptorials, is the word. He walks on them, on the bladed, jagged points of them, and it is very creepy to look at, at first, but now Mercedes is mostly used to it. It’s still scary when he gets upset and starts to chase her, screaming and kicking up dust, those bladed arms scoring the earth as he runs, swiping out fast to try and catch the heels of her horse as she flees him, but when she finds him out on his own? He’s usually grazing or sunbathing or drinking water peacefully. It’s just Ishmael. It’s not so bad. He’s not so bad.

She knows where to go looking for him, so she cuts through the brush and urges Buttercup into the glades that are creeping open from the side of the beaten path, swallowing up the dust and sand to replace it with wet, plush, swampy earth. That’s another oddness one just gets used to, having grown up in this place. It’s like the desert and the swamplands on either side of the territory have joined together, sometimes merging to make something new, other times fighting for space like one day one or the other biome might conquer the whole area. The marsh is a little hard for Buttercup to walk on, but she’s brave and steady as Mercedes urges her on, and when they find Ishmael, sharpening one of his horns by scoring it’s curved up end on a tree, she doesn’t get antsy and shifty under Mercedes.

“It’s just me and Buttercup, Ishmael,” Mercedes says gently, stopping Buttercup at a distance, speaking loudly and sweetly to alert the Ishmael beast that she’s nearby. Scaring him is never a good idea, she’s learned that the hard way and almost got caught by her mother about it, having been injured and having to hide it for a few weeks. She’d managed not to get caught, but the many times Felina had looked at her with dark, narrowed eyes of suspicion had made her much more cautious when she attempts these interactions, with the Ishmael beast or any other she happens upon when she’s out alone. Even Tripsy can get upset sometimes, as rare as it is. With her injured leg she’s not very fast, but once she’d snapped her teeth at Mercedes for trying to see what had happened to her leg up close, so Mercedes knows not to be too careless, no matter how docile the monsters seem.

“I just wanted to see how you were, today. Are you making your horns nice and sharp? They look very good.” She says conversationally. The Ishmael beast doesn’t acknowledge her at first, still grating its horn against the tree before lifting one of its strange, insectoid legs to scratch at the bark with the same intent to sharpen. Mercedes knows that it’s heard her because its ear has turned her way, flicking once but keeping the cone pointed in her direction as it continues to groom. Mercedes considers her strategy— she doesn’t think that Ishmael sharpening its protective limbs is as menacing as an adult might find it, it’s just a way to pass the time, an instinct the Ishmael beast must have picked up after it was done raging and chasing its loved ones, whoever they were. Ishmael had turned before she was old enough to understand, even though Felina had explained it to her some. Felina never had much patience for follow up questions and Mercedes knows that her momma prefers to show and not tell. She can’t really show, not safely, not with the beasts when they turn from people into ravenous monsters under the blood sun, so Mercedes has learned much about the beasts all on her own. It’s a good sign that Ishmael hasn’t started huffing and wailing, working up to the screeching he does when she’s tested his patience too much. She tries not to be too hopeful, but it’s hard.

She could get off her horse and approach, but if Ishmael gets upset and decides to attack, he’s too big to get away from safely. She could urge Buttercup closer and see if he reacts, but if he moves too fast, or starts to scream, Buttercup will spook. Even if she’s a braver horse than most, any animal with a desire to live would flinch at the piercing, humanoid screams that come out of Ishmael when he’s had enough of Mercedes trying to make friends with him. Mercedes decides to urge her horse forward instead of getting off— with his horns and claws extra sharp, it’s best not to give him a reason to test them on her. Ishmael turns his head, his bulbous eye regarding her, yellow like the sun with a black slice cut through it.

“I’m not going to hurt you any, Ishmael,” She says gently, watching the bulk of his body, the way he moves, the thick, red and black hair along his back. When he’s starting to get irritated it fluffs up and makes him look even bigger than he already is. He’s not as big as some of the other beasts, dwarfed by Cassie and Seneca, but he’s bigger than her horse, bigger than any horse and tall with his strange arms tipping the front of his body up higher than his hind half. The Ishmael beast huffs hard through his nose and clicks his teeth together, grinding them like he’s chewing cud, before turning back to the tree, tipping his head to deal with his other horn. A few of the trees have been scored and gouged… while this is the first time she’s seen him do this, she has recognized the gouged trees as an indicator of his presence. It’s exciting to learn this about him, to learn something new about how he lives now that his existence has become a quieter one. She isn’t sure why her inclination is to tell him that she won’t hurt him— it’s a hundred times more likely that he will hurt her, but she can’t help but follow her instincts and try and soothe him, like he must be scared of her, must be terrified of letting a human close to him. Mercedes has wondered about that more than once, especially with all the varying temperaments of the monsters on the territory. Ishmael won’t let people near him generally, she’s gotten closer than anyone in town as far as she knows, but he won’t start screaming and fighting until she’s close enough to touch him.

Tripsy is far sweeter and Mercedes has spent plenty of evenings and early mornings resting against the bulk of her side, relaxing into her body warmth while she lays in a grove of grass or laughing while she flips herself over and dusts her body with sand, kicking her odd, hand-ended legs in the air comically. Cassie is too dangerous to get close to, but she likes the roads, like chasing fast cars and bikers and leaping with her talons poised to snatch like the bird of prey she most resembles. Mercedes has seen Cassie before at a distance, has seen those hawkish eyes track her, and she knows from one of the town hall meetings that the best thing to do when she’s got an eye on you is to slow down and walk, to resist the fear of being chased by her strong legs, torn by her beak, and to slowly, carefully move away until she loses interest. The Seneca beast is a whole other matter… Seneca is actually a monster.

The beasts have hurt people, killed people even, and they’ve done so after they’ve calmed down in some cases, but none so prolifically as the Seneca beast. Mercedes doesn’t think any of the beasts deserve to die for being what they are, that surely they can be better understood just like any of the ever changing wild life on the territory, but Seneca puts a bad feeling in her stomach and a poison in her heart when she and her mother go to the town meetings and see all the people who have faced it and lost a limb or when with their eyes down cast and choked with a fog of grief, the adults of the town discuss the loss of someone who was caught up by the Seneca beast and eaten alive. She supposes it’s normal in a way, to feel angry, protective, prepared to consider violent options even if it makes her feel bad and uncomfortable in her own skin… Felina has no problem with it; her momma won’t hesitate to take the shot gun she has in the house out of its safety case and haul it out onto the porch to show any threat to their home she means business. A few gun shots in the air will send off some of the more gentle beasts, startling them and urging them to gallop or slither or stomp away. Mercedes knows the bullets don’t do anything to the beasts and Felina does too, but the beasts don’t seem to know, or maybe they do and it’s just the loud, unexpected sound blasting through the far reaching quiet of their land that gets them to tuck tail and run. That’s how Mercedes had first seen Ishmael, in fact.

It had wandered up to their horse stable and stuck its head into the doorway, interested in something inside but too big to squeeze in. It’d scared the horses into a frenzy and their braying and kicking had woken Felina and Mercedes in the night. Without hesitation, Felina had gotten her gun and thrown on a coat. She’d told Mercedes to stay inside and had given her an earful afterwards because Mercedes didn’t listen, but at the time, they’d creeped out together onto the porch and around the house to see what was disturbing the horses. It had been Ishmael, horns having busted open the door of the stable, bulky, strange body too large to fit inside, raptorial arms splayed until he’d tucked one under his body and started to reach inside of the stable. Felina heard one of the horses scream and she raised her gun and fired it into the air.

The Ishmael beast’s fur fluffed up like it had been shocked by static and it snatched its head out of the stable, taking a piece of the door frame with it in its forceful retraction, the wood skewered on the end of its horn as it turned its shining, sunlight colored eyes on Felina and Mercedes. It was scary, then, the way it turned, its unnatural mixture of limbs and towering height silhouetted in the moonlight, hidden enough to be frightening, visible enough to be confusing. Felina fired the shot gun a second time, and Ishmael’s bristled fur seemed to ripple, the shag around its neck thickening, the tuft at the end of its tail bushy. It shrieked, and then it ran away, the piece of wood on its horn being shaken off as it trotted off, hooves stamping, raptorial points stabbing the earth in a disturbing, mismatched pounding.

Once it was gone, Felina looked to Mercedes and she knew that whatever her face looked like, it had made Felina mad, because she started yelling at her right there in the dark, gun pointed down at the ground while her other hand waved and pointed and flexed. Mercedes isn’t sure if her momma was mad that she hadn’t listened, or if she was mad that when she’d looked at Mercedes, instead of the sensible response of fear, she’d felt wonder and her face had shown it, because her face always shows it no matter how hard she tries not to be so obvious. She doesn’t remember all that Felina had said that night, she only remembers wanting to see the Ishmael beast again in the light of day.

It’d taken her a while to find Ishmael again, but now that she knows how to spot his tracks and to follow the carved up trees, she finds him easier and has tried again and again to see if somehow she can earn his trust. The fact that he’s turned his attention away from her again is promising. Usually, especially if he’s in a bad mood, he’ll track her like a prey animal hearing a twig snap, watching for predatory movements. Maybe by now he is used to her, to her voice, to her face. Maybe today will be the day she’ll get to touch him and he won’t be startled or angry about it. She waits a few minutes, watching him switch from his horn to the blade tip of his arm, and then she climbs down off of Buttercup, staying at her side when Ishmael turns his head again to look her way.

“It’s okay, I’m just standing here,” Mercedes says, trying to sound gentle and innocent, sounding to her own ears suspicious. She often has to approach these situations like she’s trying to get close to a stray cat or trying to catch a bird with a broken wing. The Ishmael beast seems unconvinced, it huffs again, and this time, it doesn’t turn its attention away from her. She pets her hand along Buttercup’s neck, and while normally Buttercup would turn her head to rest the bulk of her jaw on Mercedes’ shoulder, she keeps her head trained forward and slightly tipped, watching the Ishmael beast as much as its watching them.

“You know, if we were friends I could bring you apples from town.” She says, even though to her knowledge the beasts have no comprehension of language. She talks to Tripsy all the time, and has never seen anything that tells her Tripsy knows any words more than the name that Mercedes has bestowed upon her. When she calls out for Tripsy, she’ll lift her ears and head and come clumsily trotting towards her, but anything else Mercedes has to say is just noise, she suspects. The Ishmael beast turns its body slowly and Mercedes grabs ahold of Buttercup’s reins. If he charges, she needs to get up on Buttercup in an instant, but he doesn’t lower his head to threaten with his horns, so she doesn’t leap to run just yet.

“I’d really like to be friends, you know,” She says, softening her voice. “I’ve made friends with Tripsy and Jenny and Ocatan… I’ve made friends with Cherry and Kiki too, the fish ones that are always together in the bog north of here, you know them? We could be friends, if you wanted… You’re always by yourself. Aren’t you lonely? If we were friends, you wouldn’t be all by yourself all the time.” She lets go of Buttercup’s reins and takes a cautious step towards Ishmael, because as she’s been talking, he’s swayed some to adjust his posture, but he hasn’t lowered his head or showed his teeth at her. He is breathing loudly, but his fur hasn’t flexed up and his arms are tucked close to his body rather than spread out or reaching. She’s learned what to watch for with each monster, with so many animals… all she has to do is listen and show respect, all she has to do most of the time is show that she doesn’t want to hurt them.

Some creatures aren’t meant to be touched or tamed, but so many of the creatures in the territory, altered as they are, have their own language and gestures and Mercedes feels… special, and connected to the world, to listen and learn what they’re saying in ways that go beyond mere language. The Ishmael beast is telling her that it isn’t as bothered by her as it usually is when she’s this close, so she tries to say back that she’s safe, that if she comes closer, it won’t be so bad.

She bends her knees to make herself smaller, she lowers her head and looks at Ishmael from under her eyelashes. She extends her hand out with her fingers curled, knuckles bared rather than her fingertips. She takes slow, small steps. She’s so close now. The Ishmael beast huffs and she almost flinches, but it still hasn’t moved, its eyes rolling, scanning around it before refocusing on her, unnaturally angled when the bulging sockets are meant to look to the side rather than forward. Mercedes can hear the bugs and the wind and the birds, she can hear Ishmael’s breathing and the thwump of its tail against one of its hind legs. She reaches out, just a few inches more, and her knuckles graze the long snout of the beast, its wiry fur scratching at her skin, the thick cartilage of its face ridged down the center of its muzzle. It’s barely a touch, but it’s so much progress that Mercedes shivers out a breath, half a gust of relief, half a laugh. She tips her hand and smooths her fingers over the fur next, and the Ishmael beast lifts its nose against her hand, flattening her palm against its snout. She lightly scratches with her fingers and Ishmael grinds its teeth some more. She isn’t sure how to describe the feeling that blooms inside of her when moments like this happen, she only knows that it is the best, most purest feeling in the world. It’s something like love, she suspects, but it’s mixed with other things and makes all of the failures and fear and challenges of these interactions worth it.

“Hi Ishmael,” She says gently. Finally. Finally.

She realizes in an instant that speaking was a mistake.

#original story #writeblr #blood sun territory #oc: mercedes #she's just a baby trying her best

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