#you can see the writing mentioned in the last post a little clearer

[thebloodbrothers-archive]

The Blood Brothers - 770 Club Madison, WI

March 19, 2007

[pubbamoon]

Nakshatras Observation

Hey! How you're doing? I'm doing good. You know I make posts everyday, but yesterday I needed to rest and to take a pause of writing and making observations a little bit. This post for today is going to be fully about Vedic astrology and theme of this post are fixed stars, constellations or the nakshatras. You can all it however you want to, but I mostly call it nakshatras, 'cause it's more common term. Anyway, let's just begin!

First of all, what are nakshatras? Nakshatras are the fixed stars from the Universe which are divided from each other by degrees of the zodiac signs. Every zodiac sign has three nakshatras in it and each nakshatra means something else. For example, two nakshatras in Cancer mean different things, so two Cancer Moon natives with two different nakshatras may be different from each other. I forgot to mention in my previous post about Vedic astrology that it can be named as 'Jyotish' astrology and it's from India, so keep that in mind.

But nonetheless, let's continue. Each nakshatra has its own planetary ruler and these planets can be the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Rahu (North Node of The Moon) and Ketu (South Node of The Moon). Also, each nakshatra has its own deity, mythology, yoni (sexual animal), symbol and its association with each fixed star (Antares, Regulus, Aldebaran, Betelgeuse, Spica etc.). There's overall 27 nakshatras and in the next picture, you can see the name of nakshatras, their order, in which sign they start at, in which sign they end at, their planetary ruler (lord) and their ruling deity.

Each nakshatra lasts 13 degrees and 20 minutes in every sign. To make things clearer, I'm going to make the order of nakshatras by its planetary rulers (lords).

Ketu (South Node of The Moon):

Ashwini: 0° 00' Aries - 13°20' Aries

Magha: 0° 00' Leo - 13° 20' Leo

Mula: 0° 00' Sagittarius - 13° 20' Sagittarius

Ketu is a shadow planet which represents the past life, spirituality and seeking the truth. Its nakshatras are placed at the very beginning of the fire signs, because they represent the end of the karma from previous life (water signs) and the activation of karma from this lifetime (fire signs).

Venus:

Bharani: 13° 20' Aries - 26° 40' Aries

Purva Phalguni: 13° 20' Leo - 26° 40' Leo

Purva Ashadha: 13° 20' Sagittarius - 26° 40' Sagittarius

Venus does represent love, raw femininity, sensuality, romance and pleasures. Its nakshatras are located at the center of the fire signs, which represent individuality. We have to learn to love ourself first, because seeking the love to others isn't real love and is more likely people pleasing.

The Sun:

Krittika: 26° 40' Aries - 10° 00' Taurus

Uttara Phalguni: 26° 40' Leo - 10° 00' Virgo

Uttara Ashadha: 26° 40' Sagittarius - 10° 00' Capricorn

The Sun represents our vitality, father, king, royalty, refined masculinity, purpose, self-expression etc. Its nakshatras are placed between the fire signs and the earth sign, making a balance between individuality and confidence with practicality and being down to earth.

The Moon:

Rohini: 10° 00' Taurus - 23° 20' Taurus

Hasta: 10° 00' Virgo - 23° 20' Virgo

Shravana: 10° 00' Capricorn - 23° 20' Capricorn

The Moon represents home, public, mind, refined femininity, mother, emotions, nurturing, nostalgia etc. and its nakshatras are located completely in earth signs. In order to become emotionally secure, we need to build up the stability in our home environment.

Mars:

Mrigashira: 23° 20' Taurus - 6° 40' Gemini

Chitra: 23° 20' Virgo - 6° 40' Libra

Dhanishta: 23° 20' Capricorn - 6° 40' Aquarius

Mars represents raw masculinity, courage, strength, having a muscular body and sex. Its nakshatras are located between the earth signs and the air signs, making a balance between the hard-working energy (earth signs) with having a time for hanging out with other people (air signs). People with the prominent Mars-ruled nakshatras are prone to have a mental health issues.

Rahu (North Node of The Moon):

Ardra: 6° 40' Gemini - 20° 00' Gemini

Swati: 6° 40' Libra - 20° 00' Libra

Shatabhisha: 6° 40' Aquarius - 20° 00' Aquarius

Rahu is also a shadow planet as Ketu and it represents future, internet, social medias, illusions, obsessions and overnight success. Its nakshatras are placed completely in the air signs which represents collectivity and masses of people. You have to be relatable and likeable to others if you want to succeed on the internet.

Jupiter:

Punarvasu: 20° 00' Gemini - 3° 20' Cancer

Vishakha: 20° 00' Libra - 3° 20' Scorpio

Purva Bhadrapada: 20° 00' Aquarius - 3° 20' Pisces

Jupiter does represent expansion, higher education, luck, sharing knowledge to others and its nakshatras are placed in the air signs and at the beginning stage of the water signs. People with the prominent Jupiter-ruled nakshatras may likely spread their knowledge to the group of people (air signs) and show their genuine side (water signs).

Saturn:

Pushya: 3° 20' Cancer - 16° 40' Cancer

Anuradha: 3° 20' Scorpio - 16° 40' Scorpio

Uttara Bhadrapada: 3° 20' Pisces - 16° 40' Pisces

Saturn represents discipline, karma, struggles, restrictions, career, longevity, masses of people and its nakshatras are located completely in water signs. This planet teaches us to become emotionally stable and to control our emotions.

Mercury:

Ashlesha: 16° 40' Cancer - 0° 00' Leo

Jyeshta: 16° 40' Scorpio - 0° 00' Sagittarius

Revati - 16° 40 Pisces - 0° 00' Aries

Mercury does represent our communication style, writing style, mental stimulation etc. Its nakshatras begin at the center of the water signs and end at the very end of the water signs. This can mean that communication might be transformative, even manipulative. It can also show the death and the end of our karma from this current lifetime.

P.S. Pubba is an abbreviation of Purva Phalguni word. Since I have the Moon in Purva Phalguni nakshatra in Leo, I chose to call my username as @pubbamoon.

So, that could be everything for today. It was pretty interesting to make this kind of post, haha. Hope you enjoyed it and learned something new. See you!

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[i-starcreamed]

Since you enjoy the trope, how about "only one circuit slab" with your choice of bot? :3 you know who my #1 is but go with whoever you think it would be most fun with. (If you want a more specific setup I'd be happy to toss some ideas around with you)

hopefully these are good...i had to go with OUR #1 and a couple other bots :3 although you already know that bc you helped with the silly ideas. did not edit this btw my bad if its all over the place

also human reader!! These turned out way longer than I thought, I think idk how to write headcanons and end up writing short imagines but eh, I was inspired

Post includes -> Swerve, Rodimus, and TFP Ratchet

MTMTE Swerve

A completely normal day on the LL, Swerve had closed down his bar for the day and you had stayed back to talk to him even as the last bot left the place. Being the friendly bot he is, he offered to give you a ride back to your room which you accepted

As you rode down the halls of the ship, Swerve mentioned how he has been looking for a roommate for like, ever, and since his room was big enough for another bot it was surely perfect for you.

You agreed of course and he immediately made plans to show you around his humble abode

Well guess what?

You turned the corner and instead of seeing his room there was a big ass crater in place of it

Your jaws dropped and agreed that he can stay In your room instead...at least until his room is rebuilt. Roommates, right?

Only problem blessing was that you had one bed

After some light arguing of who sleeps where, you both settled that you'll sleep awkwardly next to him where he wouldn't crush you and he would turn the other way. You settled down and stared at the ceiling as you stiffly lay there, wanting to give him his space. He respectfully gave you your space but continued to try to make conversation, although it was a bit awkward since you two weren't facing eachother

Another problem arose, you were on the edge of the bed and weren't use to not being nestled into your blankets, the ship was cold, you started shivering.

"I don't even know if you can hear me right now, I mean its not that muffled right? I can always speak a little clearer or louder but I shouldn't keep you up. Are you tired yet? I don't want to-"

"Swerve? Can you turn around?"

He turned and faced the ceiling while his helm turned towards you, he was about to inquire but was immediately silenced when you started climbing him and put down your pillows and blankets on his chest.

"It's uh, its cold. I could always move if you mind th-"

"No."

He blurted out. You could feel the metal beneath you radiate pure heat, more than usual. It was comforting. You sigh and lay down, cuddling up against your blankets and well, him, the best way you could. You could feel the soft hum of his spark beneath you, it was comforting. You didn't pay attention to the way your face heat up as your eyes fluttered shut

Swerve could only lay there, absolutely frozen. For once he was at a loss for words and he wondered if you could tell his spark felt like shooting out of his chest

He slowly reached out, his servo hovering above you for a second. You said you were cold, right? He hesitantly placed one servo above you, it ever so gently cradled your sleeping form.

You bet with that amount of warmth you got the best sleep of your life

He was NOT able to recharge that night. On one hand, he was keeping you safe and warm. On the other, the massive grin on his face would not go away

Maybe his room should get destroyed more often, or just maybe he can delay the reconstruction of it

MTMTE Rodimus

The LL had gone onto another one of its expeditions and you just so happened to have gotten lost with the most reckless but endearingly dedicated mech

It's been hours since you've been treading along this strange planet and during that time, you found out that the locals are not human-friendly whatsoever

It gets to the point where the two of you have gone way too long without any rest/recharge, Rodimus has sent an emergency signal and hoped that someone from the crew would find you two soon. However it gets apparent you both need to make a stop before you both pass out from exhaustion, especially you

Rodimus insists on transforming into his alt mode and you sleeping there until the morning, but you're equally as stubborn and insist on keeping watch for him.

He only agreed because of how blushy that made him. You, his special human, want to protect him even in these circumstances? Fine, you can sit on his shoulder and keep watch while he settles down to avoid using any more energon

Not even 10 minutes later, he feels your head suddenly rest near his neck-cables.

"Y/N?"

No response except your soft breathing, there's a soft smile on his faceplates knowing that you had fallen asleep.

He carefully takes you from his shoulder and transforms, in a split second you were laying down and peacefully sleeping in his alt-mode.

It may not be a bed/circuit slab but you're the only human he'd let sleep in his alt-mode, expect the seats to be warm when you wake up or his engines to purr if he's driving

Absolute endless teasing back on the LL btw, WILL ask for you to sleep in his alt-mode again or to have some sort of sleepover

TFP Ratchet

This medic is the definition of overworking yourself

Rarely ever he gets to recharge NEAR you and you swore you have never seen him actually recharge without Optimus or you begging him

This specific day wasn't any different, except you kept tossing and turning in your bed. Something was bothering you and you weren't sure what, it just did not let you sleep. No matter how tired you felt, your body would not let you rest.

Cue you going to accompany Ratchet and him being concerned and scolding you as to why you were up at such an hour

You responded with a slow frog blink

"I can't sleep."

He lets you stay with him a while and just hopes you'll fall asleep eventually, it had happened before after all. He puts you on his shoulder and otherwise continues working, fully expecting you to fall asleep in a couple of minutes

30 minutes go by and you're still awake somehow, your half-lidded eyes staring and probably getting fried by the screen. He has a small mental battle with himself before he sighs and decided to...stop working (explodes)

"Will you get some sleep if I...if I stay with you?"

He says it almost reluctantly. But only you know that its a genuine offer. If you weren't so tired you would've leaped up in the air and shouted YES!! But instead you sleepily nodded your head and clung onto him.

He groaned and headed over to his room which was bland besides some belongings, gifts from the kids, and his unused recharge slab.

There he would lay down, expecting to wait for you to sleep and then continue his work. But he didn't expect it to be this relaxing

You laying there with him, near his shoulder armor and neck-cables, softly breathing and huddled against him. It didn't take him long for his exhaustion to finally catch up to him. He blames you for being so...calming and wonderful.

Before he drifts into recharge, he turns his helm towards you so his cheek is still in contact with you. Hes just trying to make you comfortable obviously, no, it's not out of his own enjoyment. Hes just tired, okay?

Speak of it in the morning and suddenly he forgets how to talk and cant get an explanation out without sputtering

[erinwantstowrite]

hi!! first off i just want to say i love LOF and i think it really stands out in this niche genre of “spiderman in gotham”, its my absolute favourite fic rn and im loving the long chapters and dynamics between characters :)

for my question, i wanted to know if you ever considered writing any portions of peters past. specifically when he was “Parker”, an informant for the avengers. it sounds like a really interesting story and i’d love to know more about it, no pressure tho ^^

thank you so much!! I do plan on writing more about it. I honestly want to do a prequel,,,

I have some of it written actually. It was called It's called "Technically Not a Lie (Just Omitting Information)" and what is hilarious about that is it's only 27,000 words right now. I haven't touched that fic in forever because I just... had all of the information written down and the planning, and I got into Batfam and was like "Let's just write a little about this" and we can all blame @alighterwood for where we are now LMFAOOO

Thing is, I never expected LoF to get so popular, which is why it was posted first. I was like "I'll just make sure as much as I can that LoF is clear about his past so anyone who isn't me can read it and be fine." And now that we're here, I'm like "...that might be important."

I think it would be fun to have a prequel so more people can see the dynamics of Peter's world from before LoF in a much clearer light.

I kind of wanna shed a little light on how this prequel would go:

He ran from his last foster house at 12 years old, and he's year years old in this fic. In that time, he has been determined to make a life for himself all on his own, as well as help people as Spider-Man. He has no idea that his personality made people trust him so much. He's only on the street for about a year by the time the story starts, but "Parker" is very much intertwined with people. People just know him, he's the kid that the other kids go to for help. Even without Spider-Man (who, at this point, has only just gotten a proper suit and people actually realize he's not a cryptid), Parker manages to help people.

That's why the Avengers end up talking to him. Kids are going missing in Queens and show up dead- but most of them are the homeless population. They think it has something to do with people trying to make a knock-off super solider serum, and during their investigation, everything comes back to "That Parker Guy." Not in a bad way- everything has nice things to say. One kid even says they'll only talk to them if Parker vouches for them.

Turns out, Parker is a 13 year old and a fucking genius. I mentioned in LoF chapter 1 about it a little bit, and here and there it was mentioned. Peter gives the Avengers a real run for their money the way he does for the Batfam. Except it's ten times worse because he hasn't gone to therapy and is on his own, yknow?

So Bucky and Steve run across Peter (who is doing his own investigation into the missing kids as both Parker and Spider-Man) and that conversation ends with Peter going "Look behind you!" and sprinting in the opposite direction.

Sam and Banner are the ones that really track Parker down and have the first contact with him, and from there, he becomes their informant. Of course, he's also lying to their faces. Swears that he has a mother waiting for him and that he's just really good friends with these people. And people have lied several times to their faces for Peter, going with the lie, which muddies the waters about what is and isn't the truth.

From there, the rest is history. Tony thought he was just viewing Peter like he was a puzzle to figure out, and is truly shaken to his core when he realizes how much he cares about the little shit. When Peter gets kidnapped by the people making the knock off serum, they go looking for him. And Peter ends up having a home :)

[tmisherewrites]

Let's round out the rest of Crassus' men

I've shared them all in one post here. Having these actors in mind was the critical difference which helped me write Crassus' chapters because boy oh boy was I struggling.

Without further ado, here are Trebonius Moss, and Cassius and Marcus Luna:

The Baby

Trebonius Moss. The only other high born Capitol member of Crassus' squad. He's the youngest of the six and isn't totally convinced of Crassus' view of the world... yet.

He's the oldest living sibling with three younger sisters, one of whom becomes a classmate of Coriolanus', mentoring the female tribute from District 5.

He's a bit naive, but with Teller's help he's improving everyday.

I cast Kodi Smit-McPhee, unfortunately best known for that one "he's white" meme from Elvis, but what made me think of him for the role of Moss was his performance in The Power of the Dog. From an unassuming, slightly odd boy, to a man capable of expert deception and murder. He is from the Capitol after all.

Big brother extraordinaire

The most obvious of the names, Cassius Luna is named after actor Diego Luna and his character Cassian Andor from the Star Wars universe.

Andor was one of my absolute favourite shows of the last 5 years and I've rewatched it several times and it greatly influenced how I wrote this fic.

Diego Luna also appears to share a lot of similar political values to me, many of which are on display in Andor and in his actions, particularly joining the Zapatista protests in his teenage years.

Cassius has one goal: keep his brother alive. He's taught him everything he knows about how to survive and they've only stuck around because that's their best option until the weather clears. While not a great shot like Teller, Cassius is very adept at laying traps to catch small game, which helped keep the men alive when deer were harder to come by.

Also, excuse the blurry pic, I thought it was clearer than that.

Marcus has got your back

Marcus Luna is the younger of the two brothers and while he's still learning from Cassius, he's by no means dead weight, being incredibly capable in his own right. Marcus will forage and find every single edible plant in a several mile radius, having encyclopaedic knowledge of everything that can feed, hurt, or heal his compatriots.

I cast David Castañeda because I just think he should be in more stuff. Like most, I first saw him in The Umbrella Academy as Diego Hargreeves, but it was his performance in an indie called Standing Up Falling Down where I saw just how talented he is, not to mention endlessly charming. And like David, I could absolutely see Marcus sneak off in a corner to write a little poem to himself just for fun.

I also wanted to make sure to include a reference to the Lunas speaking Spanish to each other considering it is both Luna and Castañeda's first language. And while Suzanne Collins doesn't allude to languages other than English in canon, I know that languages don't disappear that easily and that there would be a class component to who speaks languages other than English in Panem.

This rounds out Crassus' men. Let me know what you think of my choices if you've read the fic. Did they match up with who you had in mind? If you haven't read the fic yet, I introduce all these characters in Chapter 2 of They Will Come For You In the Night, would love it if you would check it out 💚

[hislittleraincloud]

I'm a Wenclair truther(why are they so gayly written for each other) but you've also turned me into a Wenovan truther (because they're kinda... perfect?) so now my days consist of:

•waking up

•eating 1294838 meals (repeat as desired)

•thinking about Wenclair/Wenovan

• switching between the two every time I go, "Oh! Wenovan/Wenclair are different in that way!"

•do it again

...Ficwife? Not ficwife. Ficwife would just DM me. So!

I'm def not a Wenclair Truther, but you are quite adorable. I don't know how one makes the jump from Wenclair to Wenovan (and back), but I'm glad someone else sees what I see. Some day soon, after 8 is published (or maybe before, who knows) I intend to make a post/video re: the Wenovan moments from the show. I think one of my favorites is when she completely disses Tyler (and her snood...sorry Wenclairs 😭) after he gave her that cappuccino and lied about the Gates Mansion, popping the Hell up the very second she sees the sheriff walking up to the counter.

That moment couldn't be any clearer. She said quite plainly, "I solved the old case you were whining about all of these years and proved you wrong about my father, come solve the current murders with me." There's no other person she willingly pro-actively interacts with on the show with the intentions of doing something 'great'.

I have this really 🔥 WIP that takes place on Donovan's birthday, July 22, 2023 (this is unedited, saved as it was written in the summer):

This will probably be placed after After the Burn/"Season 2" since I'm starting to think that AtB will only cover January 2023 to...maybe April 2023? I have to think in terms of a season's structure, and in-between the end of 8 and the beginning of AtB, I'm thinking that I might give little shorts/insights that aren't part of any chapters but are fun or informative (kind of like the deleted scenes). I have a really funny one that takes place during Halloween 2023, too...it involves Enid and tight 'sexy' costumes. Poor Donovan LOL

See, people? Sweet Anons get previews and tidbits.

After the Burn (this has always been the sequel's working title, but I'm thinking of a new title, maybe) will feature the same characters from the first season (even the dead will appear, in flashbacks). There might be some more introductory stuff, like with the Breedings (we haven't seen Samuel active in the fic yet, and my GOD he is a nasty piece of work...he might be in the opening scene, I'm not sure yet). We haven't seen the last of Laurel Gates, either. My main concern is how much I can write and keep Wenovan's story behind the main one, like in S1, or if that's even doable. As it stands: Morticia is going to have a bigger role, as will Pugsley and his support dog. Xavier's father Vincent Thorpe will also get a good chunk of my attention, since Chancellor also is present for a good lot of the story (and is, actually, key to The Story of why Wednesday even lives to breathe another day). Vincent and Chancellor have the kind of hate for each other that makes you wonder if Vincent is just suppressing his desires. But I assure you, it's hate. The Goodmen storyline will likely be the main storyline, along with more Hyde fun (among other weird 'creature' things, like giving Mishizu Herz a bigger role because she's good enough to be a Nightshade...whether she participates in their sex parties is something to think about, because boy would it be weird if she was fucking someone and her face morphed into the dude's mom or something 🤣), but MorningSong cult will also be causing a little bit of trouble (and are tied to past controversies with norminal society's rules/statutes about outcasts). There is some cool shit that'll be happening with the Nightshades (young and old), we'll learn about Morticia's past and how she got together with Gomez, we'll learn about Goody Isabel Addams (I gave her a real name) and her husband. I just have to get past 8, and within 8 I'm planting some seeds to get what I mentioned rolling.

I think about Wenovan a lot too. Since I have the show on loop, I can't escape them (LOL, I just looked up to my TV and it's the scene where she dumps the evidence she collected on his desk 🫠🥰). But, I've been seduced by Cairo and Jon from Miller's Girl. Like I mentioned in one of my reblogs w the Freeman Fanatic (💖✨), they're the softer version of Wenovan, and Cairo scares me more than Wednesday. Probably because she's more real and her mental issues haven't at all been addressed (unlike with Wednesday, who goes to a therapist...OOOOOH it would've been so funny if Buscemi was her new therapist). I want to see just how far a 'regular normie' would go to keep her man, because we know that Afterburn Wednesday would disappear anyone who tried to flirt up Donovan and do it in a memorable way.

But anyway, yes. Wenovan all day, every day. And I apologize for the long wait for 8. I'm still mentally drained from RL b.s. I have the headers for 8.1 and 8.2 still in my tired brain (I know what I want them to look like, I just need to sit my tired ass down in front of the laptop...maybe I'll do that tonight or something). I have 8 in their bits and pieces and am still writing, but the bulk of 8.2 has been around since last year (almost exactly a year ago!), when I wrote the rest of the outline. Eugene gets lines! 🤣 I think I did him justice.

Daddy needs sleep or something, bc I haven't been feeling well. I need to get back on a Night Owl schedule, since I write best at night. I probably should re-read through Afterburn just to remind myself of which seeds I've already planted and what I need to incorporate or get rid of from my WIPs. I haven't done that in a little while. I'm glad that you probably do, and thank you for the kindness. I don't get any of the sort IRL since I (necessarily, for health reasons) isolate. It's just me and the dogs. 🫠💕🔥✨

[technicalchaotic]

Fuck, that one

Alright so it's actually two fic. The post-sgrub one focused on Gamkar, and a Many Years In The Past one that was going to focus on Kurkri.

Holy shit this got long. Putting the rest under a cut.

so I don't know how long you've been around in Homestuck fandom but there was a point during one of the early hiatuses, before the alpha kids and everything were introduced where a post-game theory that spawned a lot of fic was that everyone would just sorta.

Get dropped back into their original universes like nothing ever happened.

Like obviously that got jossed to hell and back, but honestly I kind of adored the concept.

So the fic there goes,

The trolls get dumped back on alternia. Everything sucks. They have a couple perigees before ascension and Karkat spends nearly all of it freaking the fuck out because, y'know.

And ascension comes around. Gamzee has a plan, you see. He's been doing some reading. Things are so much clearer now. It's so much easier to make sense of things sober.

Because palemates are sacred. He doesn't know how he missed these passages before. Must've been pretty fucked up. Anyhow, palemates are sacred and good as family, and anyone who lays claw on family, rust to tyrian, the church horde will fuck that person up.

So all Gamzee has to do is get Karkat onboard the church fleet and he'll be fine. This is a "Karkat gets adopted by the cult of the Mirthful messiah's fic."

Karkat obv thinks this is a stupid idea but he's gonna die one way or the other so~

And then they get on-fleet and Gamzee is called to see the grand highood who's descendant he is, and Kurloz is Very Sad that Gamzee doesn't have a palemate with him because Karkat is gonna be in hiding until they can get him registered as Gamzee's moirail.

And then Gamzee meets Kurloz's moirail, the best-kept secret in the church fleet. Because Kankri fucking Vantas is not only not executed, he's painted fucking Mirthful and has been spending the last several hundred sweeps very gently guiding the church and by extension the entire empire into a kinder, gentler form. Meanwhile Kurloz has spent the last several hundred sweeps very gently convincing Kankri that some trolls are annoying enough to deserve culling. Neither of them really get it, but they're doing their best. Imagine if a staunch conservative American politician fell head over heels with a hippie time-jumped from woodstock, but also killing your way out of a problem was socially acceptable as a form of conflict resolution.

Gamzee and Karkat, who knew both what alternia was like pre-sgrub, and Beforan Kankri and Kurloz, both exchange the shadiest fucking looks and decide to never mention it again. Gamzee has a few dozen crises of faith but this is a "we're ignoring all the shit I didn't like post-cascade" fic so they're not irreconcilable crises. He probably gets in a lot of theological arguments with Kurloz for the rest of his life.

Anyway the rest of that fic is about Karkat becoming Clown. I'm a little sad it won't get written at this point because it was fun.

The prequel is about Kurloz and Kankri and I swear I was planning it well before 2020. I stopped writing Homestuck or planning new fic in like 2018.

It was very much a riff on the lion and the mouse, playing into kankri-as-christ(flawed) and also one of my favorite tropes "you're my enemy but I have a duty of care and I'm not even going to do a shitty job because I have pride if nothing else and also I'm going to heal the fuck out of you out of spite."

So there's a plague sweeping alternia. Some kind of pox, like a full on bubonic thing. Alternian healthcare is almost as bad as American healthcare, even pre-ascension in the early centuries of the Condesce's reign, so it's spreading out of control and killing a disproportionate amount of lowbloods. I like the (head ?)canon that Kanaya has some amount of first aid/medic schooling, so translate that up to the Dolorosa having an amount of herbalism/hedgewitch/healing woman knowledge, translate that to Kankri being incredibly fucking stubborn about saving as many trolls as possible and getting himself a reputation as a miracle worker and prophet.

Until the Grand Highblood, newly risen to power, falls ill and none of his priests or medicullers are able to do anything to stop the progression of the disease until one of his younger Acolytes (Sirrah, not yet titled Infernal, one of my oldest and most loved fanclowns, a right bruiser butch bastard of a disaster lesbian and who I want to be when I grow up) in her desperation goes and does the thing Kurloz hasn't been able to do for sweeps, tracks down Kankri, and begs him to come and heal her brother.

Anyway that's the first chapter, the rest of it is Kurloz's recovery and Kankri trying to heal this asshole and also not get his stupid ass killed and also the fucker won't rest for five fucking minutes

There's a little coal inside that diamond, but adversity is the spice of life.

This got super fucking long. I will reblog with HoM fanclowns and sequels and GhbCondy bad blood

I just read Hope of Morning and it is SO good, I love your worldbuilding and characterization and clown church and everything :DDD absolutely fantastic job!!!!

Ah. I also found your post from like last year about questions to ask, and while all of those are fantastic and compelling things I would absolutely adore to hear you talk about, narrowed down I’d probably ask about either the sequel, the GHB<>signless thing, or the thing that sparked the conflict between the GHB and HIC in Hope of Morning (I think that’s the thing? I’m in mobile rn so no checking)

Anyway!!!!! Regardless of whether you’re still into homestuck and/or want to answer, your writing is good and I hope you’re doing well!!! Happy pride as well :)

Oh shit. I read this a couple days ago and I swear I responded but I guess I just thought really hard about it instead.

Okay sweet, it's 3am, I just checked into a hotel that I'm pretty sure is owned by bedbugs, and I've been feeling the clown itch again so let's talk about some shit

Hope of Morning Sequel

Let's call it 'bottled memories'

So full disclosure, I fully intend to end HoM someday but I just came off a *hellish* career mistake so it'll be a minute.

So I'm gonna try and describe the sequel without spoiling what's left of the main story. I may or may not be successful because I dont actually remember much about where the last chapter left off.

Bottled memories is focused around the resurrection and reformation of the Mirthful Church. The thing about laughsassuns is it's hard to be sure you got *all* of them. The thing about trolls is the mother grub is gonna keep churning out wrigglers in all colors so long as the jades bring her slurry. The thing about (my) clowns is that purple lusii aren't shit, so clowns make do.

It's also partially focused around one of my fanclowns. It's a crying shame the only longfic I ever got around to writing requires all my clowns to be dead because I love them. Especially Kalton, who has been around for something like 7 slutty, slutty years.

If you want more than that you'll have to ask because I crave attention constantly.

Ghb <> Signless

Okay so I'm a slut for doomed romances and dancestor echos. I'd have to go back to the post to remember which one I was thinking about specifically, but generally I want it to go like this:

Kurloz is a fucking bastard okay? But you know what, so is Kankri. They're assholes. Maybe Kankri lures him into a debate. Maybe it's a murderstuck-style emergency romance, maybe Kurloz only ever meets him once he's on the jut and knows the instant he looks into those burning eyes that he has done something unforgivable and irreparable. But my favorite is where they somehow make it work, and Kankri stays a well-kept secret among the upper castes, enacting subtle changes in alternian society while Kurloz is slightly less murder-happy with a Vantas holding his leash.

I do want to talk about the bad blood between condy and Kurloz, but I'm falling asleep on my phone, so that will be in a reblog tomorrow.

[castlevader]

Hey I saw you were taking requests for Anakin, and I was wondering if you could write something with prompt 97. Maybe the reader and Anakin are exhausted from the war and having to hide their love from the Order so have to and want to be be happy in the few pockets of time they get together?

hello !! i’m so so sorry it took me so long, but i was in fact ( i strongly apologise ) neglecting this request because i didn’t feel in the right mood to write it… i hope you’ll understand; we’re finally here with another shitty fic written by me, i hope you’ll enjoy it <3

ps. i assumed it was okay to make reader a jedi? otherwise just tell me !!

PROMPT: #97 “just this once, i want to pretend. let me pretend i'm happy.”

WARNINGS: none, just hurt i guess? mention and fear of a breakup, not proofread btw + it doesn’t make any sense lmao

A/N: if you wanna send a request check my pinned post and the guidelines post first <3

“i’m tired, anakin,” you said, getting dressed. “tired of what?” he looked at you, confused. “really?” you turned and sent him a look. “about this whole situation.”

“you were happy and satisfied till 5 minutes ago,” he noted while sighing. “it was the moment, you know? given that we see each others twice in a month, if we’re lucky, i was missing you, i was euphoric, that’s all.”

“you sound like you’re regretting something, can you be clearer?” anakin used a challenging tone, knowing you weren’t telling everything. “kriff, you’re so irritating. i’m tired of hiding, we act like we are some dangerous murderous people travelling freely through the galaxy.”

his eyes kept looking at you, even though you were too busy getting dressed and looking for your lightsaber. “we talked about it before we–” you interrupted him abruptly, “i know! i don’t care anymore about that conversation, it was different. there’s this kriffing war going on now and we barely have some time alone.”

“baby,” anakin quickly get dressed and followed you to the living area, you were walking towards the little balcony, enjoying the fresh air of the night. “don’t baby me, ani.”

“i can’t do this anymore, maybe our destiny is to simply be close friends. we’ll still be here for each other, but without any commitment.” you murmured, sighing. anakin’s chest ached, his heart was beating fast and fear was written all over his face. “w-what? no wait, we can try… we-we can be better than this.” you turned towards him, noticing he was close to panicking.

“ani, there’s no need to panic,” you cupped his face and searched for his eyes, they focused on yours and you showed him a reassuring smile. “i don’t wanna breakup with you, it’s just now… i mean, the war is almost over, and i know that for sure. we can stay together, we just gotta resist a little longer.”

you let go of his face and sighed, you turned towards the balcony again and you silently started at the night traffic.

“we’re not happy, ani,” you tried to make him see the situation clearly. anakin went silent, watching your frame. he knew you were right, something deep inside his heart knew it too.

“just this once, i want to pretend,” his tone was serious, you turned and finally met his blue eyes. “let me pretend i’m happy.”

you took a second to reorganise your thoughts and then closed the distance between you two. you cupped his face, caressing his skin gently, and leaned towards his lips to kiss him.

the last, true kiss.

🏷 list: @weinersolider @transias @evilcr0ne @ladyrebel25

[treasureswordsgirl55]

Promises I Can't Keep

Character: Steven Grant/Marc Spector

Pairing: Steven Grant x Fem!Reader (Original Female Character)

Inspired By: Just Feel Better - Aerosmith ft Santana

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

Mentions: About DID and Sleep Disorders

Warning ⚠️: Mention of Egyptian Gods. . Fears. Angst. Mentions of violence. Mayor injuries. Hurts. Mention of pain, blood and fights. Mentions of Moon Knight. Site in London.

Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you are fine.

I would like first of all to send my love and prayers to whoever is in Ukraine. The situation is horrible and I hope it ends soon.

Second and referring to the fic, I know that this second part took me a long time to write and post but I needed more information about the DID to be able to write it well. And honestly, I'm not sure I did it right.

For this reason, I ask you please, if I wrote something wrong, if I made a mistake in any term or description, tell me without hesitation and correct me so that I can fix it because the last thing I want is to offend someone who has a relative or is experiencing this disorder.

Anyway, this is the second part and at the end of this chapter there is a little spoiler that will give you an idea of ​​the name of the last chapter 😍

I want to thank you for all the likes and reblogs of the first part of the fic because it means a lot to me, more so that I can continue writing.

Ok, I talked too much so let's get to the important stuff, I hope you like this second part and maybe I'll show up here with the last part very soon.

XOXO 😘

Tell me what to do, you know I can't see through the haze around me and I do anything to just feel better...

- I'm on the bus, I'll be home in a while.

My father's voice in the background reminds me that I am still, in his head, his little girl. I calmly observe how a drop runs through the glass frozen by London's cold that at times takes me to the Manhattan that I miss so much.

In the same way that the darkness leads me to think of Steven.

Once again I had visited the museum with the intention of seeing him, but then again it was not there and the only response I received was from the obnoxious blonde named Donna who said that "Stevie has decided to grace us with him absence".

I wanted to hit her.

I was sorry for having such good manners and not doing it.

Despite this, and knowing Steven for almost a year, she didn't know where to look for him or the address of his apartment.

And I miss him more than he would ever admit.

- Kayleen? Can you hear me?

- I'm sorry, I was distracted by the trip - I murmur with a smile while he passed his hand against the glass to give me a clearer vision of the road - You said?

-Honey, called me Jeremy. He said that a friend of yours went to see him for a sleep disorder, a certain Steven - I look away from the road at the same time I feel the bus stop suddenly - I sent you a video, please be careful with him, it's very dangerous.

- Steven's not dangerous, Dad.

Are you talking about the same Steven that I know?

The bus backs up but stops in its tracks before going a few meters. I hear screams and see people running to the sides of the bus - Honey...

- Dad, I have to leave you. We talk later.

I cut the call without giving him time to answer. The people in the other seats start to stand up and I hear the shouts of the driver asking us to get off the bus and find a safe place.

I see the cell phone screen light up but I ignore it as I walk towards the door, pushed by the people trying to get out quickly.

I try to see through the windows but the raindrops as well as the heat from the bus fog up the windows, but the only thing I can make out is a flash of white in the middle of the shadows.

Another bang sounds against the bus, provoking more screams, and all I get is the tide of people dragging me out of the bus, where I feel someone reaching for my hand and pulling me toward the safety of a small alley that's barely even. visible by the constant drops of rain.

Ignoring those tugs, I let go of whoever is holding me and against my survival instincts, I get closer and see that another bus is being held by someone who wears a suit of shades of gray, who is trying too hard to keep it in place until that the last person leaves the bus disappears into the darkness of the night while the stranger drops to the floor and the rain and the wind take care of pulling the suit as if they wanted to rip it off.

I start to walk away without looking away but I stay still in my place as soon as I notice that the stranger removes his mask with too much effort and I feel my heart stop.

That face that I had gotten used to seeing every two days looked tired, hurt but above all, as if he were a prisoner of a torture from which he had no escape.

My head tries to put the pieces together but at the same time doesn't want to accept the image before my eyes: Steven was the one underneath the identity of the vigilante the news had dubbed Moon Knight.

I walk quickly towards him without hesitation and he barely shakes his head at the click of my heels, as if he doesn't have enough strength to even look at me.

- Steven? Are you?

The only response I get is a laugh. A laugh full of fear and at the same time, full of sarcasm.

- Yes... No - his voice trembles and I perceive the fear in his words. His insecurity goes through my body like a knife - I don't know. At times yes and at times no... I don't know what happens to me.

He tries to explain to me still without looking up from the ground and I see that his hands begin to shake. He picks them both up off the cold London floor and brings them up to his face as he shakes his head. For a moment I feel fear escaping through his pores and the worst of all is that I don't know what to do to help him.

- Try to calm down - I kneel in front of him without thinking about the pool of blood that is around him and I try to take his face, but he shakes his head and tries to get as far away from my hands as possible but it is difficult for him to move around the cuts he has on different parts of his body, anyone would be unconscious with the amount of blood spilled on the ground - You're bleeding too much, stay calm. Let me help you Steven.

I repeated his name so many times in these minutes as if that was a way for my brain to make sure what was happening was real.

- Nothing will happen to me. He won't let anything happen to me.

My father's words echo in my head and I feel a chill run down my spine.

"He is dangerous"

- Who is he, Steven?

He is silent for a few seconds as he touches his chest, more precisely where there is a moon logo and leaves a small trail of blood on it. He is lost in his thoughts for a few seconds that seem eternal and his eyes meet mine, shining with tears that fight to come out.

- The bird-headed monster chasing me.

I try not to contradict his words, I try to tell him that there is no one after him, but the fear in his eyes makes me doubt his words. I look around us and I don't notice anyone nearby.

- You need to see a doctor, now.

-No - he shakes his head again as he looks at his clothes and tries to stand up - He won't let me die because he needs me. Or so it whispers in my head.

- Steven, you need to see other doctors. Maybe it's just hallucinations from not sleeping - I approach him slowly, and he doesn't back down but even though he's looking at me, it seems like there's no one in front of his eyes - Dr. Collins can be wrong...

- Does this look like a hallucination to you?! - He yells as he takes my hand and brings it against his chest where the cold metal he wears in the shape of a moon pierces my skin like a knife and the blood sticks against my fingers. I startle when I hear the change in his voice, which is harder, more aggressive and violent. And for a moment I can't recognize it - Touch me!

I pull away as soon as his grip loosens and I feel tears fighting to get out of my eyes. His shouts take me off guard but I see that he holds his head as if it hurts or if he wants to rip it off.

I feel afraid. I'm afraid of Steven.

- Breathe, Steven.

A tear falls down my cheek as I realize I can tell it apart from the drizzle because it feels like it burns against my skin.

I watch his chest rise and fall slowly and he drops his hands to his sides, as if he can't hold them for long.

- Go - The murmur in the stillness of the night sounds as if it were a desperate cry for help. He let out a sigh as I try again to get closer, but he just shakes his head.

This time I listen to him without even hesitating.

- I'm dangerous to you, Kayleen.

- No, you're not. You will never hurt me, Steven. That man I met in a museum and who has sleep problems with dark circles under his eyes that make him see how the most adorable panda in the world will never hurt me - I manage to make him smile for a moment, but the image of Steven in my head blurs every time second I see the gray suit and try to assimilate that Moon Knight is that shy and terrified man I met that April.

- They want out. I can't stop hearing it in my head and I feel like he's going to drive me crazy.

- Maybe it's just you..

- No, he wants out. I saw him on the video... - I remember my father's message and I feel chills take over my body - He is very different from me, Kayleen. And at the same time, he is part of me.

- Maybe he won't, maybe... It's just a stage where this is a bad time.

- Maybe it was always him and not me.

He doesn't even hear my words when he mumbles that phrase and we both fall silent, our clothes soaked as well as our minds tangled in this situation.

I am barely aware that he is saying goodbye to me.

I feel the tears begin to fall down my cheeks as I see the expressions of fear disappear from his face as well as that insecurity that he always seemed to give off.

- I do not understand...

- What if the illusion was always me? - The security in his voice becomes even more present and he looks at his hands, covered in what look like gray cloth bandages - If this is the real me?

I feel him move away, but something changes in him, because his voice no longer trembles and his words sound sure. As if someone had flipped some kind of switch to make him stop being afraid.

- Don't say that... I know you, not him... he's not you.

He murmured those words in fear of his reaction, but all he does is look away for a moment that feels like forever.

-I wish... I wish it was like that as much as you, darling - He closes his eyes for a few seconds and when he opens them, his gaze loses the shine it had a few moments ago - His name is Marc. Marc Spector. He is a mercenary who died in Egypt and was resurrected by Konshu, the god of the moon - I feel the air escaping from my lungs and I hold back the primal instinct to back away from the impossible words for my head that come out of his lips. I just can't give it up less with Steven - It seems too much for my imagination but I see the flashes of hallucinations or maybe they are memories. I don't know anymore... But they feel very mine.

I don't know what to answer. I want to help him and I don't know how. And for the first time in a long time, I feel useless.

He looks at me for a few seconds and takes my hand.

- You must go.

I shake my head as I hear the sounds of footsteps in the distance. He turns and takes what looks like a disk in his free hand in the shape of a moon. He moves it between his fingers and takes a deep breath.

- Don't say goodbye, please.

- Maybe it's the best until I know I'm not going to hurt you - Look at our joined hands and look back at the other bus where there are several bodies on the ground - If I hurt you I don't think I can bear it.

- You will not do it.

My desperation melts into the air around us and I try to get closer again, but this time he just shakes his head, stopping my movements.

- I don't… I don't know if he… - He lets out a bitter laugh as he indicates to himself again - I'm no longer aware of my actions, Kayleen.

- Don't push me away, please.

- Don't ask me for what I can't give you now.

- Steven...

- Go away. You have to go - He lets me go as I feel a part of me go with him into the darkness of that alley.

🔹🔹🔹

- What are you doing here, Steven?

- He's not here - The man I thought I knew, who this time is dressed in a completely white three-piece suit, looks at me as if that question were the strangest in the universe. His eyes convey fury as well as a certainty that many would fear.

And I know that many mens fears him.

- It's time for you to leave, it's very dangerous for you to be here.

- Who are you? - I ask although I've known the answer for a long time, I take my bag with more force and start to move away from his position.

- Who will make sure you arrive in one piece wherever you go.

"Steven..."

- I told you to go, now!

That new voice, without any hint of fear and without the slightest trace of that accent that I liked so much, makes me walk away in tears without saying another word.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Four months later...

- I have an appointment with Mr. Knight - The young woman with black curls and an annoyed expression indicates the door behind her while taking a sip of a drink that is far from being coffee and which I dare not even guess what it is - Thank you .

I walk slowly towards the door and as soon as I entered, I find a room full of Egyptian objects, as well as in the center of the room a kind of antique chair where the object of my thoughts is sitting, as if there were no evil in this world unfinished.

The person I needed to talk to.

- Welcome to Midnight Mission, how can I help you?

- Talk. We need to talk.

[pastelwitchling]

I should be writing a novel, but this is the last season I’ll get to write my thoughts after each episode, and I’m depressed so I can do what I want. I have no idea how long this’ll be, but here they are; my thoughts on Roswell, New Mexico 4x01.

This actually might end up being a super short (and bitter) post (edit from future rin; it’s not) because it’s a wonder how much I don’t care about anyone but Alex, malex, and Kyle. I seriously don’t care what Liz is up to, I don’t care about Max and Jenna reuniting (actually, where’s the collaboration between Jenna, Kyle, and Alex? Where’s that team that we never got?), and I especially - especially - couldn’t care less about Maria losing her powers.

While we’re on that, actually, let me just get this out of the way; I don’t care who Maria sleeps with, just stay away from the Manes men. I don’t know how much clearer we as fans could’ve been about that woman and the Manes men, I don’t know how much more we could’ve argued against it, how much louder we had to be about how badly she needs redemption and not another boyfriend who worships the ground she walks on and who she will undoubtedly dump (especially after this thing with Dallas, who’s also too good for her) because strong female characters don’t get broken up with, right? They’re too perfect for that. I hope at least Gregory’s the one that ends things. He deserves that much. And I don’t care about her losing her powers. She used them in season 1 to identify what Alex was feeling, you know, one of her best friends who she knows was usually unhappy and without hope, and that hardly seemed to make a difference. Season 3 used her powers to give her more screen time than almost anyone, so what good are her powers exactly?

I can’t with Isobel and Anatsa, they don’t have a scrap of chemistry, it’s just so awkward to watch. They feel like actors playing a part, and I just don’t ship them. Also, I really dislike that Isobel had given up her event planning business. I loved that as a female character in the first season, she was allowed to be arrogant, caught up with herself sometimes, fashionable, stylistic, and still be such a kind person with a good heart who protected the people she loved. It was such a great contrast to her character which is usually written as stereotypically selfish, but it showed that female characters can be fashionable and a little self-centered and care about aesthetic but also be kind and loveable. I just think that as a female character, she was a lot cooler and more groundbreaking in the first season.

I hope Kyle and Isobel get together quickly. They have actual chemistry, and they just look good together.

I loved Alex, Kyle, and Eduardo all working together, planning. I love that it’s kylex together on this serious stuff, doing the real work behind the scenes. I just hope that, unlike in the last season, this time Alex isn’t left out of the climax with the excuse that he was working on some important stuff in the background. Not this time, please.

I can already see where this plot is going. They’ve already mentioned Michael feeling a connection to Bonnie and Clyde (God willing, please no more threesomes in this show, final season or not, let’s just put that out into the world, no more of them), and undercover work. Before the episode aired, I thought it would be Alex going undercover with an evil version of Deep Sky or something, but now I can see that it’ll be Michael going undercover to find out what Bonnie and Clyde are planning, and then that challenges him and Alex (hopefully while they stay together). I’m hoping, and I’ll love to write it at some point, that the triad ends up taking Alex because he was the only one that ever figured out the Lockhart Machine that had called them in the first place, and they threaten him, and that’s what gets Michael to fight back and expose himself. Or they take Alex after they expose Michael, to get Michael to do what they want, or they threaten Michael to get Alex to do what they want. I think Bonnie and Clyde are going to be good people who do the right thing in the end, and I just hope that what changes their view of humanity is Alex and Michael’s love for each other. I hope that’s where the show goes, but we’ll see. As long as Alex and Michael face whatever comes as a couple, and stay together.

Dallas is a freaking breath of fresh air. Michael needs a friend like him, and I’m glad he has one, someone who’ll just tell him he’s afraid and reassure him. I just love that man. Finally someone other than Max who can talk to Michael about Alex, who makes Michael confront his obvious feelings for Alex. Not much more to say on that other than; I love Dallas, and Michael should just go to him and Max from now on when he has trouble with his feelings as oppose to . . . anyone else.

Michael is gorgeous, of course, I just really wish we got more of Alex and Michael together amongst their friends, you know? I wish we got to see the dynamic of them as a couple and Michael’s siblings, Alex’s siblings, their friends. Not just them together in private when a scene allows it. I want to see them as a couple around people.

Alex is my precious captain, he’s the reason I watch, the reason I continue to watch, and the very idea of losing him brings me to tears even now as I write this, but that’s for later, I know.

I feel weird saying it was a great episode considering how much I really don’t care about anyone but Alex, malex, and Kyle, but it was a great episode where they’re concerned.

[shinraapologist]

light novel reread, vol. 2 ch. 6: sword and stress

i LOVE THIS CHAPTER. i love this chapter. i have so much to say but i have no clue how much of it is intelligent whatsoever.

it has what could be one of my favorite yasuda illustrations of all time as the chapter cover. i LOVE him. look at him. i can't believe he isnt more popular. do you guys know about him. has he been posted on tumblr yet. ill post him again as his own post because i love him so fucking much.

this is the first instance of shizuo's point of view. i. cannot stress enough how much i love him.

shizaya people, i get it. this is blatantly homoerotic. my toxic trait is loving when media is unintentionally queercoded. like youre wrote them that way dont get mad at me

i love haruna, honestly. she's kind of a stereotypical yandere side character, but she's also the perfect foil to nasujima.

this chapter does so much for both anri and shizuo. this is my favorite chapter in the 2nd novel, i think.

nasujima is such a scumbag and the fact that he 100% gets what he deserves is just so satisfying. insert mikados rant where hes like "i LIKE happy endings! i LIKE cliches!".

this is a turning point for anri. i like anri a lot, but i feel like i'm going to end up really loving her as she gets some actual development in the novels.

this is the moment that anri accepts herself as a wielder of saika, i think. i really wish i could see this reveal for the first time again.

first of all. sad little wet puppy of a man. i love him so so so fucking dearly. ive said it before but i love shizuo on like. a level amount as i do shinra. i LOVE shizuo. shinras just my blorbo because i have a long standing obsession with very normal looking and pathetic men. another toxic trait im afraid 😔 second of all, im really dissapointed that narita chose to say there was "no one in his vicinity" and make a random homophobic aside about izaya (and not even that they hate each other. that izaya is a man), rather than acknowledge that shizuo already receives love and has people in his life who have already been shown to care about him but currently isnt able to accept it. in the first two novels, it's already been established that he's incredibly close to tom, who's stuck with shizuo since middle school, that him and simon think well of each other despite simon's strong pacifist personality, that he's been friends with shinra since he was like five years old, and that he and celty are each other's best friends, not to mention that his family is supportive and loves him unconditionally, especially kasuka. it's just lazy/bad writing to say shizuo is unlovable and then follow that with a passage about him believing "he wasn't allowed to have love for anyone".

narita: this man is a freak. hes a monster hes unlovable. narita, writing celty immediately after: this freak is SO cool. i fucking love this guy

as president of the shizuo and celty are best friend fanclub, this screenshot is something that can be so precious to me, personally, (its saved on my laptop as badass dude)

narita: everyone is scared of shizuo. theyre too scared to love him narita, writing shizuo: thats stupid! im the one whos scared!

it could be my processing issues, but i feel like this is so much clearer in the novels than the anime.

no further comment.

the way that shizuo speaks to his anger as if its a seperate entity from him is very interesting to me. baby boy please go to therapy <3

she's so real for this. i love her.

this is the last chapter of volume 2. all thats left is the epilogue/next prolouge

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Belonging Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 归属之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This date makes important references to his birthday R&S, so do read that first!

Victor’s 2021 birthday collection:

🐼 r&s l belonging date ♡ l video call l moments and texts l asmr

[ Released in CN on 8 Jan 2021 ]

Early in the morning on the weekend, I push a cardboard box into Victor’s living room, straightening up and heaving a sigh.

MC: I seem to have prepared too many ribbons... I'll just blow fewer balloons.

Scanning the slightly empty and spacious room, I retrieve decorations from within the cardboard box.

Victor has been busy with business trips recently. Even though I know he’d return on his birthday, I still feel a little uneasy.

In order to avert the abrupt circumstances like last year, I called him in advance to tell him about my “action plan”.

He seems to have gotten used to the festive rituals I insist upon, and has agreed to let me decorate his home. 

Just as I plan to straighten up the cushions on the sofa, the doorbell suddenly rings. 

MC: Who is it?

??: Hello, there’s a package for Mr Victor.

I open the door, and the deliveryman hands over a cardboard box. The logo of Loveland City’s zoo is printed on it. 

MC: This is...

Deliveryman: It was sent late, I’m really sorry about it! There’s been some issues at the transfer point. It should have been sent to you at the start of the year.

A little puzzled, I nod and take the box. This seems to be the first time I’m seeing a package from the zoo.

After signing for the package, I take a picture of the box and send it to Victor. 

Not long after, the phone buzzes.

Victor: Leave the box at the entrance. I’ll handle it after I’m back. 

MC: Sure, but why would the zoo send you a delivery?

Victor: I adopted a panda, so the zoo sends some merchandise every year.

MC: So they actually send such things... zoo merchandise is always in limited supply, and I’ve had to rely on snatching them up whenever I visit.

Perhaps hearing the envy in my tone, Victor chuckles softly. 

Victor: In that case, you can open it up and look if there’s anything you haven’t snatched up.

MC: Can I? I’ll open it on your behalf then!

With a few movements, I open the cardboard box. All sorts of animal plush toys are stored inside, with panda-related items featuring most often.

My line of sight roams the box, and I notice a small album.

There are pictures of one big and one small panda in the album. It records their everyday lives - eating bamboo, climbing trees, rolling around... it’s like a diary.

MC: Victor, there’s an album here too. There are two pandas in it. Which one did you adopt?

Victor: Both of them.

MC: You adopted two?

Victor: Mm, the big one was the one I mentioned to you before. The small one is its child.

Digesting this information, I mutter softly.

MC: I wonder who mentioned not having feelings towards animals...

Victor: Animals no, people yes. Providing help to endangered animals is a very normal thing.

MC: Only providing help?

Victor: ...what else?

MC: Nothing, I just think CEO Victor is really considerate to specially provide help to a father-son duo~

There’s a temporary silence at the other end of the line. I can almost picture Victor’s speechless expression at this moment. 

Victor: Say it, what kind of wicked plan have you come up with this time?

MC: It’s a serious idea! Victor, let’s find a time to visit them? I also wish to meet these two “investees” who have caught your eye.

Victor: You’re truly giving yourself more and more excuses to go out to play.

MC: I can’t?

Victor: ...forget it, we’ll go together if you want to see them.

After ending the call, I retrieve a few panda plush toys from the box, display them on the sofa, then straighten the seats. Finally, I nod in satisfaction. 

As compared to vibrantly coloured decorations, Victor should prefer these adorable plush toys.

-

A few more pages are torn from the calendar, and it’s finally Victor’s birthday.

I checked the information of his flight beforehand. Since it’s not yet time for the plane to land, I prepare to send my report to him first.

The sound of my phone vibrating enters my ears. Seeing the familiar name flashing on the screen, I pick up the call in slight confusion.

MC: Victor? You’ve already reached?

Victor: I just reached. Slightly earlier than expected. 

MC: This means I'm the first person to receive your call~ I’ll just say it first - I’ve already prepared my report, and just have to tap the send button.

Victor: Looks like you have a lot of confidence in this report. Since you're done with work, head out with me in the afternoon.

I freeze for a moment. This year, Victor’s birthday happens to be on a working day. I originally planned to celebrate with him in the evening after work.

I didn’t expect that Victor, who has always been serious about work, would think of having a day of rest. I can’t help but tease him.

MC: Is CEO Victor skipping work? 

Victor: I’m giving you a break too. A certain someone has been rushing work for so many days, and I’m letting you rest for a while.

My heart stirs, and I seem to understand something.

MC: Seems like I'm not the only person looking forward to today?

After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, his voice sounds, carrying with it a smile. 

Victor: I shouldn’t be the only one wanting to meet earlier either. I’ll get my luggage, and will see you in around two hours.

-

At the agreed time, Victor’s car appears punctually at the bottom of the office building.

I jog and get into the car. He sits on the driver’s seat quietly, his coat half open, revealing a somewhat familiar grey coloured shirt.

There seems to be some tiny creases at his collar that haven’t been ironed smoothly, but the angle at which the collar encases his neck looks very suitable.

Perhaps due to the rays of light falling on his shoulders, or perhaps due to the warm wind blowing in the car, the image before me feels especially warm despite it being winter.

I pull on his arm to take a look, then nod in satisfaction.

MC: Who picked this shirt? It feels as though it makes CEO Victor look especially dashing!

Victor looks at me, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

Victor: Blowing your own trumpet.

MC: You wore it yourself. Doesn’t this prove that the choice of gift was a success?

Victor: I wonder who splayed it on the middle of the bed, only missing a note saying “Wear this today”.

MC: So do you like it or not?

Victor: Passable.

I purse my lips, pulling aside my own coat. Deliberately straightening up, I beckon him to look at the matching shirt I’m wearing.

MC: Cough cough. Is it really just “passable”?

Victor seems to be taken aback for a moment. Then, a smile quickly softens his expression.

Victor: The car isn’t warm yet. Don’t rush to remove your coat.

He reaches out to pull up the zipper. With a pause, he pulls it down slightly, stopping at the chest region.

I follow his gaze and lower my head to take a look. Like this, it just happens to reveal my shirt.

Glancing at our similar colours, I can’t help but laugh secretly in my heart.

Victor: In general, there’s an improvement in taste. A little better than what I expected.

MC: Thank you for your praise, CEO Victor. In that case, should I maintain this standard in the future?

Victor: You can. All right, let’s go. Fasten your safety belt.

MC: Where are we going?

Victor: Didn’t you want to see the pandas? There will be fewer visitors in the zoo on a working day.

While Victor speaks, he starts the car, inputting the destination into the navigation system.

MC: We’re going right now? But today... I thought you’d prefer a quieter birthday.

Victor: By “quieter”, do you mean by displaying a huge bunch of plush toys at home?

MC: They’re so cute, so I accidentally...

I grin while meeting his look of distaste, and something occurs to me.

MC: But if we're going there today, I could get to know your panda friends by matching them against the photographs.

Seeing me take out the photo album from my bag and giving it a flip, Victor raises his brows in slight shock.

Victor: You even brought their photographs around?

MC: I was originally going to make you a mini photo wall, but couldn’t finish it in time. I planned to bring you the photographs in the evening, so I put them in my bag. Come to think of it, I don’t know what names you gave them.

[Note] This is a contradiction?? Because MC clearly mentioned Little Vick in a pretty old Moment post...

Victor: I didn’t give them names.

MC: Why not?

Victor: I only paid the adoption fees. The rest depends entirely on the zoo staff’s care, so there’s no need to leave them with anything.

MC: But if they don’t have names, how would you recognise them later?

Victor: Do you rely on names to recognise people?

MC: Oo... It’s mainly the face I guess.

Victor: Animals are the same. If you observe their unique traits, you’ll naturally be able to identify them.

The afternoon sunlight is somewhat glaring. I lift my head to avoid the light, and look at Victor in the rearview mirror.

He has a serious expression, but for some reason, I think of a particular fine and sunny weekend we once had, when the light also encased us like this. 

At that time, the person beside me had used an ink-less brush, secretly leaving a mark related to him on me.

The car pauses at the crossing, waiting for the red light. Victor straightens the visor for me, turning his head to meet my gaze. 

Victor: Why are you staring at me?

MC: I suddenly thought about how someone doesn’t name pandas, yet would write his own name on my face. Doesn’t this mean I’m important to him?

Victor: Good that you know it.

The red light flickers. Victor averts his gaze, staring at the front. Suddenly, he laughs.

Victor: But from what I see now, I’ve already been influenced by a dummy.

The visor shields me from the glaring sunlight, and also makes my vision clearer.

Whether it’s the matching shirt or the Shiba Inu keychain swinging on the car keys...

These seemingly trivial, ordinary and small details clearly reflect the traces that I’ve left on him.

-

Even though it’s a working day, there are still quite a number of people visiting the pandas in the zoo.

Following the crowd, we take a slow stroll. Many children run past us happily.

Right after walking to the panda area, I see many people congregated at the railings and observing.

Pulling Victor over, rounded panda “dumplings” immediately attract my full attention.

A few young pandas are currently climbing and having fun on wooden poles. Occasionally, they’d bump into each other and roll onto the ground. After exerting energy to flip over, they’d once again climb to the location of their choice.

As if intoxicated and stupefied, I stare at them for a very long time before remembering that the panda baby Victor had adopted could be in their midst. Hurriedly, I take out the photographs from my bag to make comparisons.

However, the pandas before me seem to be carved from the same mold. The colour of their fur are the same, and they are similar in size. There seems to be too much to take in.

I turn my head to look at Victor, who’s next to me. He seems to guess what I’m thinking, and speaks straight away.

Victor: You haven’t identified it?

MC: It’s a little difficult.

Victor points at a panda which is currently climbing a wooden pole.

Victor: That one.

MC: How can you be so certain?

Victor: It injured its leg a few months ago. During the treatment, there was a need to trim the fur around the injury. Look at its hind leg - some of its fur is newly grown.

Fixing my eyes on it, the back of the panda’s right hind leg has a small tuft of relatively shorter fur. Without a careful look, one would think it’s a normal dip.

Flipping and looking through the photos, I realise that it’s actually the case.

Just as I’m about to awe at how Victor is truly perceptive to the finest detail, I suddenly realise something. 

MC: Wait, you mentioned that it’s been a few months... Have you always been keeping watch on them?

Victor: The staff will regularly provide feedback on their situation.

MC: So your e-mail isn’t filled only with reports from employees.

Victor: My life doesn’t just consist of work.

He doesn’t respond to my teasing gaze, and he continues looking at the pandas playing freely and leisurely in the garden.

Victor: Are you here to look at the pandas or me?

I respond without giving it much thought.

MC: Both!

Victor: ...

Victor shakes his head in resignation, pulling on my hand as we weave through the crowd.

Victor: There are too many people here. Let’s walk forward.

We walk and pause, following the park’s signboards. Gradually, a patch of empty land appears in my view.

A staff member is currently stacking bamboo next to tree trunks and wooden poles, as though waiting for the pandas to feast.

I tug on Victor to stop. After staying in place for a while, I see a big panda pacing over slowly.

It doesn’t seem to care about how many people are watching it. It heads towards the food, picking a comfortable position to sit down.

Flipping to the photograph of the Daddy Panda eating bamboo, I lift it up to compare it with the panda in front of me.

MC: Victor, isn’t this the panda Uncle gave to you? Its posture of leaning against the tree trunk is exactly the same as in the photo!

Victor leans down and looks over, nodding lightly.

Victor: Yes.

MC: Really? We’re so lucky to meet both of them.

Just as Victor is about to say something, the voice of a small boy suddenly drifts towards us.

Small boy: Little... Vick. Its name is Little Vick!

I’m stunned for a moment, turning my head to find the source of the voice. A small boy is being carried in the arms of his parents, reading out the name based on a nearby board.

Information regarding the pandas on duty are written on the board. Its name is found at the very top, and it’s a name I couldn’t be more familiar with.

[Note] The reason why MC finds it familiar is clearer in Chinese. Victor’s name is 李泽言 (Li Ze Yan),  and the panda’s Chinese name is 言言 (Yan Yan)

Because he read the correct words, the small boy is complimented by his parents. He continues reading.

Small boy: Its a boy... and its birthday is 13 January! It’s Little Vick’s birthday today!

Turning back to look at Victor, he currently has an uncomfortable expression on his face, and he clears his throat softly.

Victor: ...my dad named it.

MC: And it happens to have the same birthday?

Victor: Mm.

I try to suppress my laughter, lowering my voice and calling out to Little Vick a few times while it’s engrossed in bamboo.

MC: Little Vick-- We’re here to see you--

Victor: [sighs] ...

MC: Little Vick-- Wishing you a happy birthday--

Victor: Childish.

Victor pretends to have a stern look his poker face, but I can still see the gradually reddening tips of his ears.

I laugh while standing in front of him, straightening my back under his reluctant gaze.

MC: On behalf of myself and Little Vick, we also wish Mr Victor a happy birthday. Don’t feel embarrassed. Your father used your name to name your favourite thing. It’s called “loving the house and its crows”. 

[Note] MC uses an idiom, 爱屋及乌 ( “ai wu ji wu”), which literally translates to “love the house and the crows”. This conveys the depth of someone’s love to the point where you like everything related to that person.

Victor: Do you apply the same principle when you enthusiastically name all sorts of objects?

MC: I don’t just name everything. After all, I also “love the house and its crows”. For instance, I used to think that all pandas were very adorable... But right now, I think Little Vick is the cutest.

Only after saying all this in one breath do I feel slightly embarrassed. I hurriedly turn around, taking out my phone to take pictures of Little Vick, wanting to hide the heat on my face. 

While snapping photos, I watch for Victor’s reaction. But even after a long time, there isn’t a sound from behind me, and I can’t help but turn around.

“Kacha.”

The golden, dazzling sunlight spreads from behind him, glinting brightly around his raised phone.

Before I can prepare my expression, I see Victor’s phone camera facing me.

He retracts his phone, smiling as he looks at the screen.

MC: [blushing] You... you snuck a photo of me!

Seeing that I’m reaching out to snatch his phone, Victor grabs my wrist, quickly keeping his phone in his pocket.

Victor: This is just a response to your words earlier.

MC: What does that mean?

Victor smiles, his deep eyes filled with my profile.

Victor: It means that there are many dummies in the world... But I only like the one in front of me.

-

Returning home from the zoo, VIctor’s sudden words repeatedly circle my mind.

In order for him not to realise my state of mind, I take out the ingredients I had prepared in advance the moment I reach home, preparing to burrow into the kitchen to cook.

Victor naturally walks to my side, wanting to take the bags in my hand. I frantically press down on his hand.

MC: Hold on, don’t help. I’ll do it myself!

Victor: There are so many things and you want to do it yourself?

MC: Don’t worry, I’ve practiced at home and can guarantee that I have a knowledge of the fundamentals, and won’t blow up your kitchen. Also, you’re the elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated. So you shouldn’t work. Oh yes, aside from this shirt, I’ve also hidden a few presents at home. Want to look for them? 

[Note] MC REALLY USED THE WORD 寿星 ( “shou xing”) which could mean “God of Longevity” or “elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated” LOL

I say everything in one breath, not giving him a chance to retort.

Under my expectant gaze, Victor sighs in resignation, then says a few more words before leaving the kitchen.

-

With the fastest speed I can manage, I finish cooking. While bringing the dishes to the table, Victor places some gift boxes onto the sofa.

Victor: I’ve found three. That’s all, isn’t it?

MC: Not just these. You could look in other rooms.

Victor: [sighs] Looks like you really planned to prepare a hundred gifts.

MC: I didn’t do it on purpose. When I saw those things, I subconsciously  thought of you. But right now, I should invite CEO Victor to test my culinary skills!

After the meal, Victor finds a few more gifts. After giving them a count, I realise there’s still one more missing.

Victor: Why are there more?

MC: The final gift is very critical. I’ll help you get it.

I head straight to Victor’s bedroom. Removing the blanket, I retrieve a long box from a crevice at the corner of the bed.

Victor has his arms crossed over his chest as he stands at the side, watching as I make a show of straightening the ribbon on the gift box.

MC: Don’t worry, there aren’t any weird presents this time. Before, I was always sending you things I liked, but those things weren’t what you liked. So this year, I want to give you some gifts that you need.

Opening the gift box, I take out the tie that I picked out, and display it from all angles. 

MC: There aren’t pictures of happy faces, and it doesn’t have a strange colour. You can wear it to work!

Victor looks at me, then walks to the side of the bed and leans down.

Victor: Since a certain someone is doing her utmost to recommend it, I shall see how it looks. 

MC: I’ll put it on for you!

It’s rare for Victor to be interested in my presents. I immediately climb up from the bed, flipping his collar up and fastening the tie.

This distance makes the side of his face close enough to touch. His warm breaths are on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to focus on the tie.

With much difficulty, I tie the tie into a basic shape. Victor’s low voice suddenly drifts to my ear. 

Victor: This seems to be the first time I’m seeing you wear a proper shirt.

MC: It looks good, doesn’t it?

Victor doesn’t respond. He simply smiles, tidying the back of my collar.

Victor: It’s also the first time I’ve seen you cooking without being clumsy.

MC: Of course I needed to perform properly when cooking in your kitchen. 

Victor: It’s also the first time we’re visiting the zoo on a day-off from work.

MC: It’s already the fourth year, and there are still so many firsts?

Victor: Is that a bad thing? Since they are all first times, you can create so-called surprises.

The words at my ear, bringing with them a smile, create ripples in my heart. My hands pause, and I lift my head to look at him.

MC: May I ask CEO Victor - does this mean you’re satisfied with today?

Victor: This isn’t about whether I’m satisfied.

Victor pulls down my hand which is holding onto the tie, beckoning me to sit down.

Just as I plan to scoot over to give him some space, I realise that he has seated down directly on the carpet next to the bed.

MC: Someone always reminds me that the floor is cold. So why is he still sitting on the floor?

Victor: The first time you came to my house, you seem to have said similar words.

While speaking, he tugs the blanket upwards before it slides down my shoulder.

Lowering my head to look at him, the “first time” he’s referring to surfaces in my mind.

The CEO who wilfully lay down on the floor to settle work, and also wilfully had a light sleep in the middle of the piano tune.

He lifts his head to look at me, his teasing gaze unconcealed and bright in the light. The tie, which hasn’t been fastened properly, hangs loosely on his neck.

Without even realising it, his relaxed appearance has become something I've grown used to.

Images in my memories and the person before me gradually match up. I can’t suppress the smile creeping onto my lips, but complain about him anyway.

MC: Victor, you’re really wilful sometimes.

Victor: I learnt it from someone.

MC: ...cough cough. Back to the earlier topic! Could the elderly birthday person please assess today’s plans, and let me gain some experience.

Victor: Everything about today, whether the itinerary or the gifts - I’m very happy with them. Not just today. Every year before this as well.

MC: If you put it that way, I can’t tell how to make it even better. After all, even though it’s been so long, you’ve never directly mentioned what you like.

Victor chuckles softly.

Victor: There’s no need to mention them. When it comes to these things, your efforts always surpass my expectations. Also, the feelings and time you expend - they are even more precious gifts than anything else.

A clamour of emotions ferment in my chest, and I finally peek my head out from the blanket.

MC: Am I one step closer to moving you to tears?

Victor: Judging from your skills in tying a tie, you’re still very far from it. But this is already very good.

As the curtain of night falls, the world outside the window gradually becomes quiet. The ticking of the clock’s secondhand at the bedside becomes clearer.

I glance at the time, and it’s already quite late. 

MC: Today’s coming to an end. I’m a little reluctant to part with with it.

Victor: Reluctant to part with the off-day?

MC: Nope. I just feel as though you’ll get busy again after today... You won’t just be my Victor.

I mutter softly, but Victor still hears it. He curls his finger and taps my forehead.

Victor: Who says I'm not? From work to life, which part lacks a certain person’s shadow? Also, other than you, I've never belonged to anyone.

MC: Does this count as a return gift from an elderly man celebrating his birthday?

Victor: It’s just the truth.

I smile while tightening the blanket over myself, shuffling towards him quietly.

MC: But the opportunities to spend time with you without any worries like this are very limited. How do you want to spend the remainder of today?

Victor looks at me, then straightens up to sit with me at the side of the bed.

Victor: For the rest of the time, let’s just stay like this.

I subconsciously loosen my grip on the blanket. He takes the blanket, leans closer to me, and bundles me in it tightly.

The irritating sound of the secondhand suddenly vanishes. In the tranquil night, only the light in the eyes of the person next to me continues flowing and glinting.

Victor: Being without any worries like you wanted - it can be prolonged a little. Also, not just today. Anytime in the future - as long as you want it, it can be done.

🐼 Phone call: here

🐼 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[pilotcallsigns]

Start Again - Chapter Nine (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: On their trek through the canyon to find their bounty, Din learns more about the girl than he had previously known and contemplates how she managed to survive everything she's been through. Of course, as he's learned from his time with her, they can never have peace in their search for the truth. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Discussion of sterilization, a brief discussion of forced pregnancy, discussion of childbirth, and blood loss mention. 

Author’s Note: Wow, long time no see. Life's been busy so I apologize for the severe lack of updates, I've been focusing on getting back into the workforce as well as the school semester starting up. I've also hit a major roadblock with writing and in the meantime, I've taken a step back so I'm not forcing myself or producing lackluster content. However, I'm excited to give you all this chapter! I hope you all enjoy it! 

CHAPTER NINE - A STRANGER ARRIVES

Ka’rta. Mando’a for heart. The girl had a lot of heart.

Din hadn’t let it show, but the news of her diagnosis had hit him hard. The Empire had tortured her beyond belief, if her nightmares weren’t evidence enough, the scars he saw when she was sedated had told him enough. They took her son away, wiped her mind in the process, and then left her for dead. If that wasn’t enough, they forcibly sterilized her.

“They sterilized her not long after they discovered she wasn’t the one with force-sensitive capabilities.” Dr. Orn informed him. Underneath his helmet, Din frowned at the doctor’s words. A part of him grew angry, angry at the idea that since the girl was no longer of use to them, they’d toss her away. Din was disgusted.

“What you’re saying is…is that they removed her ability to have any future children because she couldn’t produce a child with abilities?” Din’s mouth tasted like bile.

“It was their belief that the child’s father was the one who passed the traits onto his son, not her.” Dr. Orn frowned at him, possibly having the same thoughts of how vile the Empire was. “Although, had they decided to—” Din held up his hand and stopped Dr. Orn’s words.

It was enough. Basic genetics explained that even if the mother didn’t carry the trait, as long as the father did, there was a chance a child with the Force would be born. Din couldn’t even comprehend the idea of the Empire forcibly impregnating her like some breeding farm.

Instead, they remained ignorant of actual genetics and because they couldn’t breed her like a kriffing animal, they removed any ability to ever have her own children. If she couldn’t produce more force-sensitives, then why let her have any more children at all.

Deep down, Din knew of the atrocities committed by the Empire but what they did to her, made him feel physically ill.

He had felt numb hearing the news. How she managed to carry herself afterward Din didn’t know. How she even managed to put up a fight in their training session he didn’t know. It made him question everything he had known about the universe. To endure that pain and continue on, Din had hardly met anyone stronger than that.

The strength she had displayed, wielding the sticks as if they were true weapons, coming at him with all her might, even if it meant she’d meet the ground again. Briefly, he had taken pleasure in sweeping her off her feet, just to see her get annoyed. He wanted to see what her reactions would be. He hadn’t expected much out of her, especially considering the news she had received earlier. After the second time, he could tell she was vibrating with anger, ready to come at him. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Followed by a few successful hits and a near kick and Din found himself almost proud of her. With time, she’d come into fighting naturally.

“I know the view is pretty, Mando, but I think we have a bounty we need to find,” Her voice makes the memories of last night fade and he chuckles.

“Patience,” He murmurs, putting the last of the supplies together in his pack. He knew she was eager to get moving, the motivation to find a possible clue in her past driving her.

An ex-Imperial, trying to lay low in a post-Empire universe. The New Republic had been searching for him but after months with no news or record of him being alive, they presumed he must’ve been killed at the end of the war. The New Republic had bigger things to worry about. Orus, still running off its own government, didn’t believe any Imperial to be dead. The droid had made it clear that no Imperial was believed to be dead unless you killed them yourself.  

Opseg law enforcement pushed out the supposed ‘dead’ bounties like clockwork, and apparently, it wasn’t too hard to find them. Din had seen the holoprojectors displaying successful hunts, it was safe to say that the Opseg agency expected the same from him and the girl. It seemed clear from the data that plenty of ex-Imperials or sympathizers found themselves on Orus, hoping that the planets bustling city life would offer a decent cover to start a new life.  

Din pulled a vibroblade out of his boot, testing the weight in his fingers before he hands it to the girl. Her eyes widen in shock but she carefully takes it into her hands. The blade was one of Din’s firsts when he had first started with the Guild. Before he had found himself more comfortable with blasters and pulse rifles, Din had been more into close combat and the use of knives. After their brief training session last night, it was clearer that while he was a long-distance fighter, the girl was suited for close combat.

“You trust me?” She asks, glancing at it as she studies the hilt and the blade itself. Din had managed to keep it in decent condition even throughout these years, maintaining it despite its lack of use.

“I do,” Din says, watching as her eyes light up. “I think you’ll be able to handle yourself out there and if not, I’ll be there to catch you.”

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, admiring the build of the vibroblade. Holding the hilt in the palm of her hand, she takes a few practice swings with it, moving with precision. The rays from the suns beam onto the blade, glittering off her face.  

“It’s also dangerous, so be careful.” Din reminds her and she nods, tucking the blade away.

“So,” she sighs, “What’s so special about this bounty other than being an ex-Imp? Seems to me that everyone was working for the Empire at some point in their life.”

“He’s an ex-Imperial officer. Higher up, not indoctrinated like Stormtroopers, so he was well aware of what the Empire was doing.” Din responds, tossing his bag over his shoulder.

“And you said he might know about what happened to me?” She asks, her voice tilting towards a hopeful tone. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but the research he had done on the bounty told him enough.

No identifying information on the ship he worked on, but with the blanks in his information, it was safe to say that whatever he did work on, the Empire didn’t want it getting out. After the war, most of it had been erased and all that was left was bits and pieces. An officer, overseeing prisoners of the war. Din had concluded that he had to at least know about what happened to the girl. She wasn’t just someone captured to rot in a cell for the rest of her life. She had some importance to them; they stole her son from her and wiped her memories. All the more reasons to find out the truth from this bounty.

“It’s a possibility. He oversaw a lot of the prisoners. There’s a chance he knew about you. Or your case, at the very least.” He replies, watching as she takes in the information.

“How soon do we have to bring him in once we find him?” She says. She’s quiet now, looking to the horizon of Opseg.

“A day or so, maybe. They incentivize you to bring the bounty in early for more credits.” He answers and she merely hums. A conflict of emotions washes over her face. There’s a question she’s too afraid to ask, unsure if she would receive the answer she was seeking.

“Will he give us information?” Right on target. Din’s not sure what to give her. Could they torture him for information? Sure, maybe the Opseg law enforcement wouldn’t question it. Would he even have any information? Again, Din did not know for sure. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands a little dirtier for the sake of information the bounty may have on the girl.

“I don’t know,” he answers instead, watching as she frowns. Not exactly the answer she was looking for then.

Displaying the map of the canyons on Orus, Din pinpoints the bounty’s last known location. He had hidden in the deepest parts of the canyon. It was likely that he had a camp set up and an array of weapons to protect himself. Din wouldn’t be surprised if he and the girl came across a couple of dead bounty hunters in various stages of decay. An Imperial was already a formidable opponent, but an Imperial officer who held a lot of information on the Empire was not a force to reckon with.

Veteran bounty hunters knew better and had expectations. If a bounty were on edge, they’d do anything to protect themselves and their assets. An amateur hunter gets too cocky and the bounty quickly puts them down and moves elsewhere, losing the trail. It was all a matter of survival.

“It’s a bit of a hike,” Din informs the girl, watching her eyes as she scans the projected image. “The droid says he’s been hiding out here for the past few weeks. He moves around after a new set of hunters come after him.”

A blinking dot displays the bounty’s last known position. The girl hums, her mouth set in a hard line as she scans the map once more, seeming to put it to memory.

“He’s getting comfortable. No new bounty hunters in a good month, maybe he thinks they’ve forgotten him,” The girl says, looking to him for confirmation.

“That, or he’s expecting a full force, so we need to be prepared for both. He’s already managed to figure out the schedule of bounty hunter arrivals. Supposedly barricades himself by the time they arrive at his camp. Takes them out and moves locations before a new round of hunters come along.” Din states, clicking through the projector to detail the number of hunters this bounty has killed off.

It’s numbers he hasn’t seen since he had taken the bounty of Fennec Shand with that hotshot bounty hunter, Toro Calican. With Shand “dead” and Calican kidnapping Grogu in the hopes of making a name for himself, Din never wanted to experience anything similar again. This bounty he and the girl had taken up would not come easily.

“He would be smarter if he moved during the downtime of hunters. That way we wouldn’t know his last whereabouts.” The girl says. The light of the holoprojector flickers off her face as Din shuts it off.

“His ignorance will play to our advantage,” Din says, placing the holoprojector in his bag, “it wouldn’t be any easier if he did decide to move during the downtime.”

Din’s not expecting much, the ex-Imperial has most likely grown comfortable living out in the canyon. Their arrival might come as a surprise, but deep down, Din knows that the bounty will be prepared for a fight. Even if it means toeing with a Mandalorian.

Beginning their trek through the canyon, Din takes the lead for the first hour into the journey. The canyons on Orus are difficult terrain. The course he had set for them was not smooth at all, it was rocky and there were several instances of Din having to pull himself up over a ledge, then pulling the girl up as well.

The faint cry of animals keeps them close to one another, not trusting that the creatures will be welcoming of their presence. Din had already learned the hard way of a welcoming presence. He should’ve expected as much, given that the planet shared a system with Nevarro. The girl, however, keeps the mood light by humming songs native to Puvo. The soft thrum of her voice keeps the hike from being filled with a painful silence, which Din is grateful for.

The hike is peaceful and with the soft hum of the girl, Din relaxes through their trek, allowing himself to admire the planet and the way the vegetation grows despite the lack of sunlight. He still scans his surroundings, keeping an eye out for any potential danger. He studies the shade of the canyon walls that cut off the sunlight even as the planets still grow, fruits hanging off the branches of trees and the leaves of planets greener than he had ever seen before.

The sounds of a running creek pause them in their journey, the girl’s humming coming to a stop as they gather at the edge of the bank. This time the girl’s singing doesn’t fill the silence, just them filling their canteens with the water. Din even watches as the girl leans over and washes the sweat from her face, running her hands down her neck in order to cool herself.  

“I think it’s deep enough to swim.” The girl says, leaning back into the sand after her last drink of the water.

“You think?” Din asks her, watching her as she nods.

“Maybe,” she says, “The creeks on Puvo were shallow, meant for work. Finding an actual source of water that wasn’t meant for work or consumption was difficult, but when I did find one, I managed to get Valara to go with me.” She smiles as she seems to look back on the memories.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been swimming,” Din tells her and she chuckles.

“Not even when you were a boy?” She turns, looking at him. In truth, he can’t remember a time when he was that young, not since before he swore the Creed. When he finds himself trying to look back, the only thing he finds himself remembering is the destruction of his home and the death of his parents.

“No,” he finally says, pulling himself out of his head.

“Castin loved to swim. He wanted to swim before he could even walk. The village thought I was crazy to give him that chance, but he proved them wrong.” She smiles, but he can see the pain in her eyes as she struggles to look back at that particular memory. He knows it’s a painful reminder of what was stolen from her.

“Do you remember them? Your village,” Din supplies. The girl blinks, slowly nodding.

“Parts of them. Faces are a blur but their voices are clear to me. We were a small but tight-knit community. Everyone helped everyone.” The girl glances up at him and smiles. “I can’t remember exact details like friends or family, just Castin and maybe the midwife who helped deliver him.”

“But you don’t remember if you ever had a husband?”

“All children were loved regardless of if their parents were married or not. But, no, I don’t remember him if he were to exist at all.”

Din feels peace when she answers that she doesn’t remember. A part of him hopes that there wasn’t any partner involved, that way she could only focus her attention on Castin. She didn’t need another heartbreak if she were to ever find out the truth of what may have happened to her village. If there had been a husband, would he have been killed off by the Empire? Was he still alive?

“I do remember the pain of bringing him into the world. It was a difficult birth.” The girl interrupts his thoughts. “The healer had monitored me throughout the entire pregnancy, I knew going in it was high-risk.”

“High-risk…” Din pauses, “Like, dying?”

“Yes,” she sounds calm when she answers. He supposes that the discussion is no longer painful since she survived the ordeal and is here now. “I was in labor for several hours. I nearly died. The midwife said there had been a lot of blood…they couldn’t stop it. I remember telling her his name, but truthfully, I wasn’t sure if he had died. It was chaos.”

Din watches her as she examines the flow of the water, tracing her fingertips above the surface. In the time they had spent together, he found himself learning more about the number of times she had faced death even before the Empire had its grasp on her. Even before her son had been born, it seemed fated that one of them would die.

“State your business.”

Dank farrik. Din was tired of being snuck upon.

He and the girl turn, facing the source of the voice. A masked man with a rifle stands in front of them. The upper half of his face remains covered, only the lower half displaying his displeasure with seeing them here. He’s also wearing armor, but it’s not like beskar. The barrel of the man’s weapon points at the girl and at this close of range, she would not survive the shot.

“The public is not barred from traveling within the canyons.” Din responds, watching as the man shifts his stance, the barrel of the rifle moving to point at his chest plate.

“The public population knows not to travel these canyons. Only outsiders take that chance, so I’ll say again, state your business.” The man snarls, the barrel of his rifle swiveling to focus on him. The blast wouldn’t pierce the beskar, but Din wasn’t about to take that chance.

It’s not a blaster rifle, the closer Din studies it. It’s a stun gun, meant to temporarily incapacitate rather than go for the kill. Why this rifleman, clearly upset, didn’t have his rifle set to kill, Din didn’t know.

“Bounty work. Sent by the Opseg law enforcement.” Din states, his hand settling on his hip just above the blaster in his hip holster.

The sky is a soft shade of blue with light cloud coverage. Din doesn’t remember looking up at the sky but as he struggles to move his limbs, he understands why. The rifleman had shot him. Someone’s screaming. It’s the girl.

“Relax, sweetheart. He’s not dead.” He can hear voices, muffled as his vision blurs.

[beawriter]

Plot Twists

It’s fairly common to see plot twists in stories. Some are good, some are bad, and some are just eh. It can just as much fascinate a reader as it can ruin your whole story for said reader. Basically, it’s difficult to write one, but here are a few tips for you.

A plot twist is a literary technique that introduces a radical change in the direction or expected outcome of the plot in a work of fiction. When it happens near the end of a story, it is known as a twist or surprise ending. It may change the audience's perception of the preceding events, or introduce a new conflict that places it in a different context.

- Definition of a plot twist, Wikipedia

First, try seeing your story from a reader’s point of view

While you plan, write and edit your book, take moments to see your story from a reader’s point of view. 

What twist(s) would you easily assume happens next? then eliminate everything that comes to mind from being a potential plot twist

Even if you think, “oh, but I’m the writer and I can see that easily because I’m the writer,” well, yes, you’re right, but the reader will probably be able to see the twist too

Also, I’m just saying that, sure, being surprised is cool, but figuring it out as a reader just before the twist happens, is cool too. It makes me, the reader, feel smart for basic reading comprehension.

(That’s my personal opinion, so feel free to do as you please)

What you shouldn’t do:

the only reason the plot twist is there is for the surprise value and doesn’t actually further the plot *cough* how the Game of Thrones tv show ended *cough*

Seriously, don’t do that. Your audience will just roll their eyes and feel unsatisfied. Also, about the GOT thing, yes, the plot twists were at the end so they shouldn’t exactly further the plot, but they should’ve neatly tied up the end of the story like a bow.

it makes little sense/isn’t plausible

That’s why you have foreshadowing and all the tools I mentioned and did posts about. You don’t want to trick/deceive/etc your audience.

What you should do:

Use foreshadowing

With foreshadowing, you need a balance between not giving away the surprise while still giving enough detail that your plot twist seems plausible

If you don’t think you’re able to write it in your first draft, just write it in a later draft. There’s no rush, and you’ll just have a clearer view of the plot twist/story

Also, don’t put foreshadowing (or something that seems like it) then not use it

“If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise don’t put it there.”

-   Anton Chekhov, writing advice known as Chekhov’s Gun

Furthermore, use subtle misdirection

Red herrings

Dead Ends

Misleading the Reader

Matryoshka doll plot twist:

Basically, it’s a plot twist that seems like the biggest plot twist, but then there’s an even bigger one

Picture this: your plot twists are like Matryoshka dolls, you think you’ve reached the last matryoshka doll (aka the (fake) biggest plot twist) but then you open it and there’s an even smaller matryoshka doll (aka THE plot twist)

*surprised pikachu face*

Okay, okay, but how do you do it?

The first plot twist (though it doesn’t have to be the first plot twist in the story but you get what I mean) is unexpected, but not too shocking or big

The second plot twist is more shocking than the first one

It’s as simple as that

(Also, if the example with the matryoshka doll offended anyone, the purpose was really just to help explain it and not to be rude and/or offensive)

Death, death, death

Take the following with a grain of salt: all your characters don’t need a happy ending, a happy story. 

(Obviously, feel free to do as you please, and if you want to skip this, then do)

Though there are other ways of furthering your plot, (as shown in this post, that I couldn’t have done better), death is a common, and somewhat easy, plot twist

As I mentioned before, don’t kill of a character for the shock factor, it’s not worth it. It should have a reason, like furthering the plot, someone’s character developpement

Also, don’t kill a character because you’re done with them, as in, when they have nothing left to do. In my opinion, the best saddest deaths are when the character didn’t accomplish their goal

In addition, the only genre I can see where killing everyone off is acceptable would be grimdark and maybe? fantasy and comedy? However, at some point killing everyone (if they didn’t all drop dead at the same time) gets boring and doesn’t shock anyone anymore

What happens after

Let’s say you’re reading a book. At the beginning, everything is great; the writing is beautiful. “Wow, this couldn’t get better,” you think, and then a plot twist happens that is perfect in every way. The story did get better, and it has all your attention. BUT, after the plot twist, the story gets sluggish and boring and you’re left wondering what was so great about that book in the first place. Does it ring a bell?

If it didn’t ring a bell, I’m sending you to the library because you haven’t read enough books

(that was a joke)

Anyway, that would be your story too if you’re not careful, because sure, your plot twist might be great, but if after that (except if the plot twist IS the end of the story) you have to keep the pace on your story

Same goes for before the plot twist, actually. You have to keep your audience engaged to reach the plot twist

Lastly but not least, when you’re done writing that fabulous plot twist, get a beta reader to be sure it’s actually a fabulous plot twist (though I’m sure it is/will be)

And that’s it for today, we have reached the end, our only friend:)

Feel free to add more and have a nice day!!

[ingravinoveritas]

I usually don't get the “happy couple” vibes from M&A too, but pictures are very often misleading as we all know from real life. And even beside pics, all people's relationships come across differently and it doesn't always represent the true nature of how they are in private. With M&A I think their obvious age difference messes a bit with this visual representation as well. I don't think he ever had a gf who looked so strikingly younger than him. —>

I mean, I'm not sure about their actual ages, but he then looked younger too so visually it was perceived differently and allowed to see other aspects of relationships (again, aspects depending on what was shown and how it came across, not necessarily what was true). So for me at least, I don't feel sure enough to judge what I seem to see here. Because of all those factors but also because this visual aspect messes with my brain too much...

Hello, Anon.

I absolutely do agree with you that pictures can be misleading, and don’t always tell the whole story. Which is why I should have been clearer in my previous post that pictures are usually the last thing I look at--largely due to the fact that in the case of Michael and AL, there aren’t that many pictures of them together. (The ones that are out there are mostly from the holidays, and he tends to appear tipsy or drunk in them, which...do with that what you will.)

For me, because I wasn’t yet a fan of Michael’s when he was still with Sarah or Rachel or any of his previous girlfriends, my barometer of comparison is David. How he looks/acts around David, versus how he looks/acts around AL. Time and again, I keep coming across comments that seem little on the surface, but actually belie a lot more. To give just a few examples, there’s this interview last year with Nihal Arthanayake on BBC Radio where Michael is talking about Staged and says he loves David...but ten seconds earlier, he referred to AL as his “co-star.”

There’s also this print interview from when Staged 2 came out, and his interesting answer to the question “What was it like working with your partners?” (especially in contrast to David’s answer for Georgia):

There was also this, him being asked which actors (besides David) he’s most enjoyed sharing screen time with and had the most chemistry with on screen, and her not being mentioned...

There are other examples, but essentially what it comes down to is that Michael has had countless opportunities to mention or praise AL in some way, in different contexts and answers to a variety of questions, but he hasn’t. At every available turn, Michael showers effusive, warm, adoring praise on David--his “best friend”--but does not behave the same way toward his girlfriend. In every interview Michael does where he talks about David--both during the Good Omens press tour and since--he gushes over him, his eyes light up, and he just glows from within. But he doesn’t do any of that with AL.

This is not me saying that Michael hates her, mind you, because I don’t believe that...and because “hate” is not the opposite of love. But there is no passion there, no energy or fire on his end, and the reason I know its absence is because it is so present when Michael and David are together. Michael wears his emotions on his sleeve, and to me, the pictures--the ones with AL, but pictures of him and David, too--aren’t the whole story, but just confirm what Michael has already told us (even if he hasn’t said it out loud).

So I hope this helps to address your comments, Anon, and to clear things up regarding my perspective. Thanks for writing in! x

[ronalddear]

Bathroom.

hi again! This is another drabble/missing moment set during dh after the wedding. Again this is only my second time writing any fic so it's very amateur.

This was requested by @nuttybeardetective , and was inspired by this post of mine. Ron is vaguely prudish in this but seeing as this is only my second time writing, I don't think I'm ready to write full-on smut yet. hope you enjoy <3

WARNING: none except for language, because it's Ron ;)

WORDS: 1515

The dim cold ambience of Grimmauld Place did nothing to soothe the uneasiness of the wedding attack and Ron was utterly fed up. One week after their untimely arrival at the grim house enticed them to try and settle into their temporary 'home'. At least physically anyway, Harry was now occupying Sirius' room in reserved isolation and after another night of sleeping adjacent in the drawing-room, he and Hermione had wordlessly agreed upon sleeping in their respective rooms that they'd occupied during the summer before 5th year, with some unannounced hesitation on his part.

The minuscule amount of clothes he carried was unpacked, his worn toothbrush now stood in the cup designated on the 2nd story bathroom, opposite his bedroom. The kitchen table was now draped in Hermione's lists and notes of all sorts, a map of the Ministry adorning the centre. Yet Ron felt as if mentally he was still at the Burrow, packing the extra healing supplies from the bathroom cupboard or stood in the stuffy kitchen, duplicating his mother's kitchenware to stuff into his rucksack.

The immediate thought of the burrow made his stomach drop and his head spin. The forced confinement made him feel ill. It felt as if he was in deep quarantine and had no knowledge of the world outside. This scared him so intensely that his paranoia was at an all-time high after a week without family communication. Surely the whole Horcrux-hunting fiasco would last longer than a week? A couple months maybe? Could he go that long without his serene home, the sunny hillside near the refreshing pond, and his family, who were at risk of being imprisoned or killed because of their non-prejudiced beliefs?

His stomach dropped again and his shoulders sagged under the scorching heat of the water flowing across his frame. He discovered that hot water was helpful for him to relax, only temporarily of course but it was much better than the frigid water in the small shower the burrow housed or the short-lived heating charm that made him feel as if he was showering in lukewarm tea rather than a proper hot shower.

His only downside was that his creamy skin was almost brick red, yet somehow his freckles showed through like a common childhood disease that Hermione had mentioned getting in her early years. He could not remember the name. His hair laid flat on his head, a darker red when wet but now longer than a quiff, he ran his gangly fingers through it, sweeping it back but failing to contain a few stray pieces, which dangled near the curve of his cheek and tickled his ears.

Goosebumps spread across flesh the instant his heels touched the cool tile. The sudden temperature change brought about a shock and he scrambled for his towel to aid his chill. After hastily wrapping it around his waist, he clumsily aimed for his vest to wear until he got to the room so at least he wouldn't freeze to death. Vest in hand, the metal toothbrush cup clanged off the side of the counter, making a ruckus in its wake.

Vest now over his head and arms, bunched just under his chest. the cup was replaced to its original spot and a good few swears had escaped his breath. He bent across the counter to clear the mirror of the steam that emanated from the shower when he felt the slightest brush against his bareback.

"Shit!"

"Sorry!'

His hand frantically searched for his wand to provide defence but unless towels came with pockets then he was out of luck. Hermione's alarmed voice stabbed through the bathroom and the echo lingered for a bit, just enough until he processed that she was in front of him. Her eyebrows were raised and her mahogany eyes were wide after she jumped away from him suddenly.

"Um..Hi.” she started with a great inhale.

Ron's heart rate hadn't returned to normal and his mouth was agape at the sight of her so suddenly appearing in the bathroom. Where he was. Alone. Until she came in of course. So now it was just him and her. Alone. He suddenly became very aware that he had just come out of the shower and was revealing a particular amount of torso, which was probably solid red now with a litter of freckles that he didn't fancy too much himself.

"Uh hey?" he started, completely at a loss of how to conduct the situation, while he sheepishly smoothed down the vest along his stomach. She couldn't have come in here to discuss Horcruxes right? Actually, he wouldn't put it past her to do just that, to be honest.

"I uh.. well I came to shower and I realised that you were still in here, still are in here so.. but yeah your vest was rolled up a bit sorry, just wanted to.. uh fix it, yeah, sorry." she stumbled over her words a lot, something he'd never heard from Hermione but she seemed to speak extremely fast yet agonisingly slow and deliberate at the same time.

She was breathing in deeply again and his eyes fell to the stray tight curls that graced the nape of her neck which her haphazard-looking ponytail exposed. The bathroom was quite dim and the yellow glow from the dingy lights fell just barely on her dark skin. Skin. His eyes travelled a little further to see she was wearing a vest herself, no a camisole, he didn't know what it was but his gaze was hooked on the space between her shoulder and collarbone. He had the urge to touch it with his lips.

He quickly averted his eyes as to not embarrass himself but they glanced over her bare legs in moderately short cotton shorts and he sucked his breath in so hard he was now bent at a slight curve, stomach clenched and breath hitched. He was quickly overwhelmed at the intimacy the situation opposed. Hell, he couldn't believe he was describing an interaction with Hermione as intimate. His ears were on fire surely, he'd need an Aquamenti to put them out if he survived.

"Oh", his voice heightened toward the end and he internally cringed so hard he thought he was going to combust.

"Yeah", she whispered, her eyes were on his arms, his brain scars were fully displayed and swirled across his recently filled out arms.

"I thought you were using the bathroom near your room?" he spoke softly and slowly, drinking in the sight of her lips, which she was toying with impatiently, now flushed.

There was an urge to cover his arms but he resisted and tried to focus on a chipped tile near the door. He failed as soon as she spoke once more, her voice clearer this time and with, almost, determination?

"I think I like this one more." she spoke, referring to the bathroom seemingly but her eyes were nowhere but him.

She intentionally made eye contact and his heart dropped to his lower stomach, his chest unnaturally warm. Wasn't this room cold as shit before? He was smart enough to know that bathroom was the last bloody thing she was talking about but words failed and he was more than happy to let her steer the conversation.

"Can I ask why?', he managed, his mouth was dry and he was sure he's never wanted anything more than for her to touch him, anywhere, she could slap him if she wanted and he would relish her skin on his.

Their breaths were erratic now, you'd swear they'd run a marathon twice over. Her chest was rising and falling agonisingly slow. He was still bent a bit so he was leaning towards her and she seemed to have gotten closer since she jumped back earlier. When did that happen?

"It's a bit more spacious I think, prettier interior as well", she whispered, swallowing halfway in between and added in the last bit staring so far into his eyes that he swore she was probably seeing through his head.

Pretty. Did she just say pretty? He was pretty sure she said pretty. No one had called him that before and if she had just called him fucking pretty he was going to die on the spot. Her words kept repeating in his head, soft and intentional. His entire body was frozen and he knew that the ground wasn't cold enough to make his legs tremble the way they were now. She gazed up at him and he swore he saw a glint of satisfaction after his reaction.

"Right, well, I'll let you have it then..Enjoy.", he applauded himself in restaining his voice from wavering at the end.

She gave a small thanks and he started to walk towards the door, her to the shower. Her bare shoulder touched his elbow at the exact moment her eucalyptus shampoo wafted towards his nose and he swore he almost whimpered. Their eye contact was only broken by the door closing and Ron almost collapsing on the other side.

PLEASE REVIEW! <3