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sailoryooons · 3 months

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Bust | KTH | (m)

☾ Pairing: Heistman!Taehyung x f. Reader

☾ Summary: Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky.

☾ Word Count: 2,211

☾ Genre: Criminal, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Bank robbery, light depiction of fear/anxiety, mentions of poor financial situations and money-related stress, recreational drinking, ‘good girl’ petname, explicit language, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), biting, spanking, implied body worship kind of, a hint of overstim, bodily fluids and cum-eating.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This is an idea I randomly spoke about forever ago in a TikTok DM with @gimmethatagustd and this is strictly written to ruin their entire life tonight. I hope it works idk osifodigjoijg.

☾ A/N 2: Tonight is number four for my 100 Drabble Challenge and I rolled number 24 for criminals! I hope you enjoy my depraved thoughts of Taehyung in that GOD DAMN SQUID GAME OUTFIT AT PTD. MY MASK KINK DOESN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE BUT BE FUCKING SURE IT WILL ONE DAY. HE MADE ME INSANE.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration ☾

Sweat beads down your back, the trickle of it slower than the clock ticking above your head. Time seems to slow as you sit on a carpet that hasn’t been steam cleaned since the 80s and push yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the open vault.

It had happened so fast and yet now, it’s like it can’t be over fast enough. Each second that ticks by feels like it takes a year. You cannot hear the chatter of the men inside the vault, but their harsh whispers raise goosebumps on your skin.

At least they haven’t noticed you. Not that you would do much, anyway. You have no intention of going over to push the alarm by the door, too afraid to alert the armed man who stands just outside the vault room on the other side, and far too underpaid to risk your life for a financial institution.

For a moment, you wish it were you robbing the damned bank. Maybe you could pay off the student loans on your degree you’re not using and run the heating in your apartment during the winter instead of bundling up in several layers.

Your momentary lapse of delusion passes as the men rush out of the vault, duffles in hand. They’re all dressed in red, black masks covering their faces with shapes on them. You’re vaguely aware that the costume belongs to some sort of show you saw online, but you can’t place them.

Perhaps you’ll watch it now.

“Hurry up,” one of the men barks toward the vault. There had been three inside, but only two came out. “Grab the last and let’s go. Two minutes left.”

They’re gone in an instant. Your eyes dart back to the vault where you can hear the last person inside. Glancing at the clock, you watch the seconds tick by.

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. A minute.

A man dressed in a red suit, hood pulled over his head comes out of the vault. As he slugs it shut with one arm, the bag on his shoulder droops, spilling the contents inside out onto the floor. Bands of cash fall out, thudding around his feet. He swears loudly and bends over, back slipping more to drop cash on the ground.

In his frustration, he crouches and tips the mask up a fraction, shielding his face from the camera above but not from you, huddled on the floor a few feet away.

Your heart skips. The thief is beautiful. Dark eyes focused on his task, a wide nose that fits perfectly on a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a pursed mouth. There’s a flush in his face from the heat, the tip of his nose an endearing shade of rose.

As if sensing your gaze, his head snaps up. You cower against the wall, realizing now that you’ve seen his face, you’ve doomed yourself. He stalls completely, gloved hand hovering over the cash, eyes boring into you. He arches a brow as if to ask you a question and you respond by shaking your head.

The thief gives you a cocky grin, nodding before he finishes picking up the money and tossing it into the bag. He looks at you again, a smirk on full display before he winks and pulls the mask back down. “Good girl,” he purrs. “I like that.”

Despite the situation, your stomach flips. He stands and rushes out, lingering by the door for a second longer to stare at you through the black mask. You can’t see his face, but you know you’ll never forget it, pretty as an angel, dangerous as a devil.

When the group is gone, you wait in silence, only the pumping of your heart to keep you company. When the cops come and ply you with questions all you can do is shake your head repeatedly.

I was too scared. I can’t remember.

It is the same thing you tell investigators for nearly two months. Just when you think they won’t keep asking what the man looked like, they finally drop it, handing over the robbery details to the FBI. They were at least a little less callous, caring a little less about how many questions you answered.

If you had to guess, your unimpressive financial situation even after the robbery was significant enough that you weren’t involved with the robbery.

It’s hard not to wish you had been. The straw in your mouth belongs to a drink that is far too expensive for you to not wince and it barely tastes like anything. At this rate, you know you won’t get a buzz. You’d love alcohol to take the edge off of the loud club music or loosen you up a bit, but you’re resigned to being sober for the rest of your friend's birthday.

Around you is a gaggle of men and women, both people you know and new faces trying to pick up your friends. Anyone trying to hit on you has already decided you’re far too grumpy to waste time on, most of their backs facing you as people shout over the music about working in finance.

You wonder if they also rob banks in their spare time. It makes you grin, thinking fondly about the thief once again. You do that a lot.

Sipping the drink, you glance at your phone. It’s been an hour since you arrived, but you’re wondering if enough time has reasonably passed to excuse yourself. Tomorrow is one of your few days off and you intend to spend it lounging on the couch watching TV instead of nursing a headache.

Someone slides into the space at the bar next to you. You don’t glance up at them, spinning your skinny cocktail straw absently as you stare at the melted ice of your Long Island iced tea. You hoped that once it melted it would turn into a second drink, but it hasn’t. Cold, bitter water it is, then.

“Why the long face?” You frown at the vaguely familiar voice and glance up, freezing.

Mr. Bank Robber looks down at you, cocking his head to the side with a wolfish grin. Your mouth pops open in surprise, leaning back a little as you drink him in. This close, he is far more beautiful than you remember, the edges and shadows of his face like a carefully painted fresco. Michelangelo could hardly be talented enough to capture this.

“You,” you whisper, his grin spreading further.

“Have we met?” he leans on the bar, dressed in all black. You eye the three-piece suit and the glinting diamonds in the cuff links. His clothes are far finer than anything anyone else is wearing and when you breathe in sharply, you smell a hint of woody cologne. His dark hair is slicked back and you catch the dainty hoop earrings in his lobes. You like the juxtaposition.

“You know we have.” He tongues the inside of his cheek, turning his head to order with the bartender. His eyes stray to you, raising a brow. You supply him with your answer, “A long island.”

The bartender nods, momentarily stupefied by the heistman’s beauty before walking over to the POS, tapping the screen with the speed and aggression unique to bartenders.

“Kind of a shitty club,” he mentions, looking around over the top of your head. Sweat clings to your lower back, your mouth growing dry as you watch colors splash on his face. “Your face is too pretty for a place like this.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” The bartender puts the drinks on the counter and the man gives him cash, signaling to keep the change. The bartender raises a brow but says nothing, taking the money as he goes. “What’s your name?”

“You probably already know it.” He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure you looked me up to see if I was a threat or watched me to see what I’d do.”

“You watch too many heist movies.”

“Maybe I watch just enough.”

He laughs at that and your lips twitch. It’s rich, making his face intimidating as he gives you a wide smile and shakes his head. “Alright, maybe you’re right.”

“Can I know your name?”

“For the right price.”

“My silence was a pretty petty, no?”

He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping down and back up. You sip your drink, feeling a flush of warmth unfurl in your body, most notably between your legs. “I like you.”

“You have to like me. I know your secret.”

Leaning forward, he ducks down so that he’s murmuring into your ear, hot breath ghosting your skin and making you tremble. “Want to hear more?” Your eyelids flutter as he waits, skin buzzing at his sudden proximity. You nod, feeling lightheaded. “My name is Taehyung. Want to get out of here?”

“Fuck,” Taehyung growls, hands skimming your bare sides. You can’t keep still under his gaze, hips squirming and fingers twisting in the sheets. His mouth is swollen and covered in your spit, his eyes blown as a large hand scrapes down to your thigh where he gives you a good slap. “I knew you were a good girl.”

A moan trips out of your mouth. Your thigh stings where he slapped you but he soothes it with the easy back-and-forth motion of his hand, his fingers digging into your flesh. Taehyung is a man starved, having littered your body with harsh kisses and bites, nearly breaking the skin.

You don’t care. You’re feverish for him, room spinning as you sprawl on his soft sheets in a hotel room that is far nicer than anything you’ve ever been in. You burn up like a star, core raging as Taehyung leans back down, pressing your naked thighs open for him as he sucks the skin of your chest between his teeth.

Everything aches. You want him so bad that you feel a cry come out of your mouth, lips wobbling as he laughs against your skin, sinking lower and lower, mouth loud as he sucks at your skin, tongue brushing over the sting of his teeth.

“Does my good girl need her pussy eaten?” Taehyung rasps, looking up at you where he kneels between your legs. “Is that why you’re crying, hmm?”

Taehyung looks like something out of a thriller. His eyes are dark and hungry, his shadowed face becoming some sort of demon of lust. He’s what you would imagine a dark god. A bacchanal devil, a creature made for sin.

All you can do is nod in response, feeling Taehyung’s vicious grip on your thighs as he presses you further, your muscles stretching. The strain feels good, as does the slow drip of your cunt down the curve of your ass mixed with his breath.

“So messy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and blowing cool air on your sticky folds. You squirm, the sensation sending you into overdrive as you twist your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He’s barely done a thing and you’re worked up more than you can ever recall. “Pretty.”

The slow, soft press of Taehyung’s tongue through your pussy makes you sag. It’s the relief that you so desperately needed, eyes rolling back as he circles your clit and drags his tongue back down. Taehyung is slow as he eats you out, tongue savoring every drop you can give him.

He taps your thigh, drawing your attention to him. He smirks as his tongue dips into your entrance, dragging back up to swirl around your throbbing bud a few times.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes away once you’re watching. Taehyung keeps his razor-sharp gaze on you, bringing his mouth fully to your cunt as he sucks eagerly. There is a rhythm to the curl of his tongue and the sharp suck of his lips, the wet smack of his ministrations driving you crazy.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his face in further. He’s messy with it, his jaw and nose covered in shiny slick. He laughs throatily when your back comes off the bed, thighs shaking. “Such a good pussy, just like I knew it would be.”

It feels too hot in the room. Your breaths are coming in too fast and there’s nothing you can do to catch it, Taehyung working you up to a frenzied, frenetic orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, pumping so hard that you think you might need to stop.

And then you break.

Your body seizes as you come, a scream ripping through your mouth as Taehyung slurps hungrily at your mess, spurred by your release. You can’t stop shaking as he dives in, unwilling to stop until you’re babbling, nearly lifeless as the orgasm teeters into overstimulation.

Only then does Taehyung pull his mouth away, trailing wet, cum-spit kisses on your inner thigh, nipping your thigh here and there.

“Think you can take more?” he asks, slurring his words against your thigh. “Think you can take my cock.”

You nod eagerly, hand letting go of the sheets and reaching toward him. “Yes.”

“Mmm good. I’m about to bust.” He bites your knee. “And I don’t mean a bank, this time.”

#taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #v smut #bts v

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theorphicangel · 28 days

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#2 “let me take care of you, okay?

warnings: none, fluff.

boyfriend miguel series.

You didn’t know what you had done to the universe to deserve all of this.

From the moment you woke up things didn’t go your way. First a broken coffee cup, then a stain on your white shirt, followed by turning your apartment inside out for 15 minutes after losing your car keys whilst simultaneously trying not to start into a hysterical breakdown. Then having two deadlines piled up on you for the end of this week, managers giving you a million and one things to do and after listening to the high-pitched whining of that bitchy co-worker who spreads gossip like wildfire has now resulted in a heavy migraine.

Yet, somehow you still had to put a smile on your face. You couldn’t break down, not here and not now. There’s no time and there’s no excuses, you have to be professional.

That was the message ingrained into your brain from the second you clocked in till the second the clock hit five. But instead of relief the heavy weight of stress and work linger on your shoulders, following you down to the car-park and on your journey home. The invisible weight waits around you like a shadow as you wait for the elevator to pick you up, only getting heavier with every step that you take towards your apartment.

The weight still doesn’t disappear as you open the door to your apartment, the familiar scent of your favorite dish cooking in the air. You slide off your shoes, too exhausted to call out your boyfriend’s name. A habit that you usually do when returning home.

“Is that you, mi amor?”

You hesitate in responding, mind distracted as you slip off your coat. “Uhh– yeah, yeah.”

Miguel turns the corner, hands on his waist. He’s in a simple outfit of gray sweatpants and a black plain tee. He frowns a little as you place your bag on the floor. You’re a little less excited than usual.

Normally, you’d be bouncing into his arms right now, rambling about your day whilst trying to simultaneously pepper kisses across his lips. You swore one day you’d find a way to kiss and talk to him at the same time.

You say nothing more as you walk into the living area, eyes avoiding him.

“Did you have a good day?” You notice the low tone of concern. You know that he knows this isn’t your usual self.

“Yeah, yeah.” You try to reassure him with a smile, a forced smile. Like the picture of you in your senior year of high school on the fireplace at your mother’s house. Miguel remembers your embarrassment, turning over the picture frame whilst calling out to your mom in annoyance for having that picture on display.

But no, maybe this one is a little different. It’s more disheartening.

Miguel watches you disappear into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you. He’s not sure what to do, standing in the middle of the living room like an idiot. Does he go after you or do you want to be alone? Should he plate up your food or are you not hungry?

Instead he waits, deciding to give you space for a little bit before asking. Thankfully, you’re only gone for less than fifteen minutes, re-emerging from what looks like a well needed shower and your favorite hoodie of his.

For the first time tonight, you finally meet his eyes and without a single word you find yourself wrapped in his arms. He never really understood it when you said he was the best at giving hugs. He didn’t do anything special, he just…hugged you. He figured that maybe his height had something to with it but other than that he just held you as tight as he could, almost afraid that you’d suddenly disappear in his arms.

You bury yourself into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head as you do so. His large, calloused hand rubs small circles into your back and without saying a single word his comfort is more than enough.

Coming up to the surface, you begin to feel ready to let it all out. You feel your throat grow tight as you try to speak.

“Today was just shit, mig, I can’t–” Even the recollection of it causes your eyes to swell up with tears. All you wanted to do was to hide away from the world, the thought of clocking in tomorrow makes your stomach flip upside down.

Miguel hums, “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

His arms wrap around you a little tighter as the words leave his mouth in a soft tone.

“Okay.” is all you have to say and all that heaviness from earlier which tormented your body seems to disappear, your mind now preoccupied with the way that Miguel holds you. You pull away, glancing up at him now as you finally let it all out.

“Work was shit.”

Miguel hums, continuing to rub small circles into your back as you spill out anything and everything that has pissed you off today.“...I’m just done, I don’t even think I want to go in tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll call in sick for you.”

“Really?” You struggle to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Really, mi vida, didn’t I say I would take care of you?”

“You don’t have to mig’”

You let out a giggle as Miguel clicks his tongue in faux annoyance. “I want to.” He emphasizes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I want to take care of you.” He leans down a little to place a kiss on your forehead. His soft brown eyes meet yours, a silent plea before the words even leave his mouth. “Let me take care of you…please.”

You shut your eyes, taking in the sensations around you; your mind now coaxing your body to rest.

Yes, you’ll give in for tonight, you think. You’ll let him take care of you.

thank you sm for reading!! reblogs are much appreciated!

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse

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gallifreyanhotfive · 4 months

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 4

While trying to figure out how Jenny was the Fifth Doctor's daughter, the Nine suggested he might be her father or her mother.

The Nun once shot and imprisoned the Tenth Doctor on her TARDIS, using a psychic shroud to take on his appearance temporarily before "regenerating" into her own body.

The Eighth Doctor has traveled with both a Cyberman and an Ice Warrior before (albeit not at the same time).

Jasper and Stewart are a pair of Fledershrews (a type of bat) that took residence in the TARDIS. The Doctor considered them to be good friends.

The Doctor had at least one grandfather and seven grandmothers.

Horses can be cyber-converted.

The Seventh Doctor took Ace back in time to kill the would-be dictator as well, but they were also unable to go through with it.

At the same time the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby were dealing with goblins (24/12/2023), the Seventh Doctor and Ace were in a Los Angeles toyshop.

Wilfred Mott enlisted while he was still underage.

Orlando Bloom stars in Indiana Jones movie remakes.

Sam Jones knew what the Doctor's name is.

By some accounts, the Doctor removed his name from time, meaning only they and the Master (as well as anyone they later told) remembered it.

Ian Chesterton was taught how to ride a horse by Alexander the Great.

The TARDIS once dematerialized with a Nazi (played by David Tennant) half in, half out, leading to his incredibly gruesome death.

On Harmony, an idyllic planet, the locals harvested any visitors for food as the other animals had all died out.

Sometimes, the Doctor has worked to actively change history, like the time the Second Doctor tried to save Horatio Nelson from dying in the Battle of Trafalgar.

As the First Doctor regenerated into the Second, the TARDIS also somewhat regenerated, shrinking around fifteen centimeters.

River Song has eleven siblings such as Brooke, Stream, Lake, Creek, H-One, H-Two, O, etc. All of them are clones created by Madame Kovarian from River's DNA.

Speaking of River, she's been married to both Bernice Summerfield and Jack Harkness before.

Amy Pond was once mutated into an almost butterfly-like creature.

The Master does not like David Attenborough.

At one point, the most wanted criminal in the galaxy was the Master, and the Rani was second most wanted.

Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday was a Gallifreyan bedtime story the Eleventh Doctor recalled enjoying.

In this story, Rassilon would ask the Matrix daily: "Matrix, Matrix that sees over all, who has the power to make Gallifrey fall?" The Matrix would always respond with: "Only you, oh Rassilon. Only you, through the Eye of Harmony have that power." One day, the Matrix added: "Snowana the Fair, using the Keys of Doomsday, she has the power to destroy all of Gallifrey." Rassilon was greatly angered by this and banished Snowana to the wastelands, expecting her to die, but instead, she grew into Snow White. Selendor had created a great weapon that could be used to destroy cities and fashioned seven keys to it, one for each sin of the Time Lords. He gave one key to Snow White expecting her to get some revenge, but she instead ran away and created a force field around her and the keys. Selendor died of grief for his lost keys

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

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chocsra · 11 months

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15! Chuuya flirting headcanons:

A/N: Hello! This is my first post on tumblr so I'm just going to put out I'm not so used to the format on tumblr at all, never posted my writing pieces. I also was originally going to include 22! Chuuya but I got lazy. So please enjoy and tell me if you'd like more of my works!

Characters: Gn! reader x 15! Chuuya

Reader works in the Port Mafia for this headcanon.

15 Chuuya:

I see 15! Chuuya as a serious person who was forced to mature at a young age. So I think he'd be pretty hesitant to flirt with you, because no.1: he has a lot of pride, he's scared of Dazai's teasing, and he's already been betrayed by The Sheep not too long ago, he doesn't want to let his guard down around anyone else.

I'd think he'd see you around the mafia here and there, but he wouldn't think much of it, don't really consider him to be a 'love at first sight' kind of person.

Instead, he'd probably get to know you whether it'll be through a mission or mafia gatherings. Either way he'd catch himself caring and thinking about you more than he should be.

So you two would have to become pretty close friends in order for him to comfortably flirt with you, not saying it won't be awkward though.

I think when he was fifteen he liked the idea of romantic dates such as fancy dinners, but teenagers don't really have the money or motivation to do something as that.

I think his way of flirting is to check up on you a lot, and being a gentleman.

Whenever you guys are out he always opens doors, offers to eat your unfinished food, asks if you're okay, etc.. if you aren't together then he's calling you to see if you've ate and/or you're okay.

You catch him staring all the time. He has that kind of awe and adoration in his eyes whenever he looks at you.

And I'm trying not to go out of character here because Chuuya is known for his brutality, especially when he was fifteen. I think he'd act arrogant and hot-headed at first, like he'd be a dick but then he realises it and becomes a little sweeter, even nicer when you guys are friends.

You are on his mind like 24/7, he will listen to music and be like: "Damn, would they like this? Should I get them an album?"

Also unconsciously follows you around when you're near. Yes, Dazai notices.

Overall, he's not a words kind of guy and would rather show his affection through actions and gestures. I don't think he'd do it on purpose though.

So like, acts of service kind of guy.

"What the hell are you doing out here without an umbrella?"

You turn your head to meet your colleague, Chuuya, who is running up to you with an umbrella in hand, which is usually concealed by the pockets of his leather jacket. It was raining pretty heavily, and you had just finished some business with the mafia; now peacefully walking home in the evening as droplets of rain fell in the tinge of your hair. The cold sensation was quickly covered by his blue umbrella, which, now that you realised it, matched the colour of his eyes. He shot you his juvenile grin, raising an eyebrow at his friend's actions.

"I forgot to bring one."

"Well, you're gonna get sick."

"No shit."

Chuuya scoffs, pulling a snicker from your throat. The comforting yet tension-filled walk pushed an awkward silence between the two of you. "Where do you plan on going?" He asks with curiosity filling his azure eyes. "Groceries. I haven't had any food left for like, 2 days." You chuckle stiffly, but a slight frown appears on Chuuya's face. "You should take more care of yourself." He suggests feigning a sigh, you raise an eyebrow at his advice. "Chill, I'm getting food now." You smile, lightly nudging his shoulder. Chuuya groans at your dismissal half-jokingly, taking a moment to stare at the awakening moon.

"I care about you, ya know? Sucks that you're a suicidal maniac like that bastard." He chuckles, then looks at you with confusion when you don't laugh; instead staring at him with a sweet look of adoration. You don't even have to say anything; you just giggle for him to realise what he's just said.

"Here, I'll go with ya—I could run some errands myself."

"Shut up." He laughs with some conviction, playfully jabbing your arm. Chuuya stares at you in awe under the moonlight, taking in your laughter. He softly smiles to himself, not wanting this moment to end.

#15 chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #gn! reader #idiots in love #mutual pining #flirting #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya

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jimhines · 1 year

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2022 Writing Income

It’s that time again – for fifteen years now I’ve been writing an annual blog post about my income as a writer. Money tends to be an uncomfortable, even taboo topic, but I think it’s important to help counter the myths that we’re all multimillionaires living in Glass Onion-style mansions. (Side note: If anyone wants to pay millions of dollars for my book, I’ll happily update this blog post from my private island mansion.)

Remember, every writer’s career is different, and I’m only one data point.

Prior Years: Here are the annual write-ups going back to 2007: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021.

In 2016, instead of a personal income write-up, I did a survey of almost 400 novelists about their income.

My Background: I’m a primarily “traditionally published,” U.S.-based SF/F author with 15 books in print from major New York publishers. The first of those books came out from DAW in 2006. I have an agent, and have been with them since about 2004.

I’ve self-published a middle grade fantasy and a few short collections. I’ve also sold about 50 short stories to different magazines and anthologies.

I’ve never hit the NYT or USA Today bestseller lists.

I’m currently the sole parent of a teenager (at home) and a 22-year-old (at college). I have a day job that’s just over half-time, both for the paycheck and the benefits.

2022 in Summary: There’s no gentle way to say this. The last several years have kind of sucked. Losing my wife to cancer in 2019 completely derailed my writing. I was hoping 2022 would be a comeback year, but life had other plans…

I did write and sell two new short stories and one nonfiction piece, which was nice. I’ve got a finished middle grade book that’s been on submission for a while. I finished a standalone fantasy that’s been sitting with my publisher for a while.

Normally, my editor is pretty quick about responding, but last year wasn’t normal for DAW, either. DAW was acquired by Astra House. A lot of their time and energy went into that deal. I’m hoping for the best, but things still haven’t settled into the new “normal.”

Last year did see the release — finally — of Terminal Peace, the third book in the Janitors of the Post-Apocalypse series. I’m thrilled and relieved to see that book in print, but it came out right in the middle of the Astra House acquisition, which may have impacted things like promotion and publicity.

I also finished the first draft and started revising a new standalone middle grade fantasy with series potential.

2022 Income: The biggest check was the publication payment for Terminal Peace. All total, before taxes and various expenses, the writing brought in $13,957.16. While that’s absolutely nothing to sneer at, and I’m grateful for the success, it’s also a dropoff from the past couple of years. To be blunt, if you look at the cumulative graph, things have been slumping a bit.

Income Breakdown:

Patreon has been a small but steady and helpful source of income. My thanks to everyone for that!

As usual, my U.S. novels are the biggest piece of the pie. The short fiction category is a bit higher this year, thanks to those two new stories. I didn’t self-publish anything new in 2022, but if that middle grade book doesn’t sell, I’d like to publish that one later this year.

Novels (U.S. editions): $8,542.83

Novels (Non-U.S. editions): $473.25

Self-Published: $1158.24

Short fiction: $892.86

Audio: $521.04

Patreon: $1668.94

Other: $700

I mentioned earlier that things have been in a bit of a slump, and I need to focus on breaking out of that. Some things I can’t currently control. Tomorrow I could wake up to an offer from DAW on the book they’ve got, and maybe an email from my agent that the middle grade title he’s been shopping around went to auction and got a six-figure advance. But I can’t make these things happen.

Priority #1 is to keep writing. If I’m not doing that, other goals are pretty much moot.

Priority #2 is to figure out some alternate options. It may be time to put more time and effort into self-publishing as a complement to my traditionally published work.

The biggest thing making me anxious is that I’m pretty much out of contract. The paperback of Terminal Peace comes out this year, but for the first time in about 15 years, I don’t have the security, the luxury, or the deadlines of a signed contract. In some ways, this is freeing: I can write whatever I want. But there’s no guarantee as to when things will see print. Submitting to the traditional publishers is a long, slow process…

From talking to other writers who’ve been doing this a while, I’ve learned that pretty much every career has its ups and downs. Personal, pandemic, and publisher issues have been a bit of a perfect storm for me these past few years, but I’m not going anywhere. After 27 years as a writer, I’m excited to see what comes next.

Wrap Up:

I hope this has been helpful. As always, feel free to share the post and/or ask questions.

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incandescentlysomething · 1 month

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Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 3

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 3763

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

IMPORTANT: Instead of the six year time jump we saw in the show, we're doing a nine-year time jump. I was in no way comfortable building toward future events with Aelinor only fifteen years old. Here is a list of current ages. Aemond: 24 Aelinor: 18 Jacaerys: 19 Lucerys: 15

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3

Nine Years Later

The citizens of Dragonstone felt the dragon before they saw it. The fishermen working at their boats, the merchants unloading their hauls from the ships, all felt the world swallowed by shadow as the sun above them was blocked out. The first time it happened, as the shadow of dragon wings passed overhead and the heat of the day was blocked, some of them had screamed that it was Balerion, returned from the dead. There had been chaos in the streets.

But now they knew better, and some of them even lifted their arms to wave at the young Princess as she flew by.

Aelinor Velaryon Targaryen laughed when she saw a few scattered expressions of fear below her, pulling hard on the handle to draw Darrax away from the shore. He’d been known to swoop down and steep the catches of unlucky fishermen, but now he was so large that he would destroy everything in his path if he tried.

“Come, Darrax,” she leaned forward to pat his neck. “Let us carry on.”

The girl was a sight to behold, and many people from the harbor and the castle both stopped their tasks to watch her and her mighty dragon turn toward the sea.

Darrax had not slown in his growing, now with a wingspan rivaled only by Vhagar and a body only slightly smaller than that of Vermithor. His obsidian scales sparkled a million shades of blue and green as the light of the sun reflected off of the waves. He was fast, carried by his large wings, and it was easy to see why the people of Dragonstone had shouted ‘monster’ the first time he flew above them.

But he was also gentle, for he had his rider to care for.

Aelinor had grown much since her childhood, though those that truly knew her would have said that she had not changed at all. She wore her hair in a long plait down her back, and it flapped behind her in the wind, a streak of brilliant silver against the sky. Her reins were modified with a single handle, so that she might be able to command Darrax with only one hand. She rarely needed to, however, as the bond between dragon and rider was so close that she could command him with just Valyrian.

“We aren’t fishing today, Darrax,” she called. “Just stretching our wings.”

The young woman had been stretching her wings more and more often as of late, as she found it suffocating to be in the presence of her parents. Her mother was pregnant with her fourth child by Prince Daemon, and while Aelinor wouldn’t mind supporting her mother in such a time, it was difficult to do so without encountering her father. He had been growing ever more persistent in his desire to train her and Darrax, and she was beginning to run out of excuses.

They swept around the west side of the island, keeping low so that they both might enjoy the spray of the sea. If anyone had asked, Aelinor would have said that she went this way so that Darrax might rest on the cliffside that faced toward the west. But Darrax did not need any such rest, and there was only one reason that she always flew west.

This day, like all the rest of them, she looked west and found the skies empty.

Aelinor sighed, too used to the disappointment for it to sting much. It had been a long nine years, with no word save what came through official messages to the Princess Rhaenyra. She knew that Aegon and Helaena had wed, and that they now had two children. She could not imagine that to be a good match, struggling to reconcile the odd and insect-obsessed Helaena with an image of motherhood. Nor was the Aegon that she remembered the type of boy who should have been a father. Aemond…there was little news of Aemond. She knew it was no fault of his own, but she still found herself hoping to hear from him, even after all these years.

Darrax let out a huff, sensing his rider’s emotions, and then he dove.

“No! NO, Darrax! No!” Aelinor’s shouts were silenced as Darrax plunged beneath the waves.

For a few moments she was weightless, and then he was splashing back to the surface, his wings causing great waves around them as he launched himself back into the sky.

Aelinor sputtered and spat out water. She was completely soaked, but she was laughing. “Darrax!” She scolded, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. “You silly creature. Let’s go home then, so I can dry off.”

Darrax pumped his wings, driving himself up and over the cliff, cutting across the island to carry them back to Dragonstone.

An hour later, Aelinor was walking through the halls of the castle. She was no longer wet, though her leathers had pasted themselves uncomfortably tight against her skin. She had undone her long braid, letting her hair fall past her hips. A bath. A bath was what she needed after that sojourn into the sea.

She reached up with her bad hand, grabbing her glove with her teeth and pulling it free. Then she carefully stretched out each of her fingers, looking forward to warm water and bath salts.

“Aelinor,” her father’s voice echoed from in front of her, the man himself stepping out from an adjoining hall.

She didn’t slow her pace. “Price Daemon.”

He didn’t protest her use of the title. He had never been one to argue trivial matters, and he couldn’t care less whether she called him Father or not. For nine years, his eldest daughter had held him at arm’s length, resentment simmering between them like oil in a pan.

He knew she didn’t like him, but he just didn’t care.

“I wish to take you flying,” he fell into step, watching as she carefully tended to her crippled hand. “So that you might learn to—”

“To what? To fly into battle? Against who, Prince Daemon?” She demanded. “My mother might feign ignorance, but anyone can see that you are preparing for something. I will not be brought into your schemes.”

“You are your mother’s daughter, and with that comes specific—”

“Correct. I am my mother’s daughter. And the daughter of the man who raised me,” she didn’t say whom you murdered, though she had been tempted more than once over the years to confront him about the murder of Ser Laenor. “My loyalty is to them, and not to you.”

Daemon let out a scoff, but fell away, and Aelinor did not look back.

She stepped into the warmth of her bedchamber, finding the bath already full and steaming.

“What did—” A girl stepped out from behind the dressing screen. “Rhaena!”

The two girls had grown closer in the years they had lived together on Dragonstone. Though not as close as sisters, they were dear friends. Aelinor decided not to wrap her in a hug, given that she still reeked of seawater, but she beamed at her cousin.

“I thought you might need it,” Rhaena laughed. “Darrax take you for a swim again?”

Aelinor was already stripping out of her leathers. “Of course he did. He’s positively impish.”

“I wonder where he gets that from,” Rhaena rolled her eyes, watching as Aelinor practically dived into the bathtub.

“It’s so warm. Thank you, Cousin.” They had never stopped calling each other that, all too aware of the boundaries that would be ripped down if they had to acknowledge what they were — sisters. But still, since the marriage of their parents a few years ago, they had been sisters in all but name, and Aelinor was eternally grateful for the female companionship.

“Your mother said that she wished to speak to you,” Rhaena said. “It sounded important.”

Aelinor gave a slight nod, dread already pooling in her gut. She knew what this was about, as did Rhaena. It was the same topic that had been haunting the halls of Dragonstone for months, casting a pall over everything Aelinor did.

“She knows my feelings on the subject,” she finally said. “But she is my mother, and the Princess of Dragonstone besides. My feelings have little relevance.”

Rhaena passed her a cloth, and Aelinor started to scrub some of the salt from her skin. “But shouldn’t your feelings matter? After all, it’s Jace, of all people.”

Rhaena’s expression was genuine, but Aelinor could hear the question she did not ask. Rhaena was, if not in love with, certainly interested in Jace. But it had never been a secret that, to secure Jace’s own place on the throne, he would marry Aelinor. With her pure Targaryen looks, they would be able to secure the claim of any of their future children. In recent months, Rhaenyra had begun making plans in earnest. After all, both Aelinor and Jace were older than Rhaenyra had been when she first wed Ser Laenor.

Aelinor sunk lower into the bathtub, letting the water lap over her mouth and nearly to her nose. She did not want to think about these things. She did not want to imagine having children with Jace, and certainly did not want to imagine what that would mean. Her brother was nice enough, having grown out of the worst of his childhood impulses, but he was still Jace. Luc would have been more agreeable, if he weren’t still a babe in her eyes.

At least she knew Jace felt the same way. They were not suited to each other.

But they would do whatever was required to win their mother the throne.

“It could be worse,” Aelinor sighed, trying to force some levity into the situation. “I could be marrying a Lannister.”

“At least they have gold,” Rhaena smiled. “What if it were Aegon, or worse, that rogue Aemond? When traders come from King’s Landing, they say that his face is—”

“I know what the traders say,” Aelinor snapped, biting her cheek to keep from cursing aloud. “I would like to bathe alone now, Rhaena. If you please.”

It was a dismissal as plain as any, but Rhaena did not fight it. She just said her farewell, stood, and walked to the door.

She should not have let it bother her so. It had been nine long years, and the rift between their families seemed more insurmountable than ever. But there was still that tiny part of her that sprang to attention whenever she heard even a whisper of Aemond. And too often, it was cruel, malicious whispers that her family seemed to take at face value.

The door creaked open, and Aelinor groaned. Gods be damned. Couldn’t she just have one bath in peace?

“Aelinor? May I come in?”

“Of course, Mother,” Feeling no shame at her own nakedness, Aelinor did not open her eyes as she heard her mother glide into the room and take a seat at her dressing table.

“Did you have a nice flight?” Rhaenyra asked, with almost forced politeness.

Aelinor shrugged. “As good as any. But I can confirm that the sea is quite frigid this morning.”

“Then perhaps you should not be swimming in it.” Her mother laughed.

Aelinor sighed, opening her eyes and moving to rest her chin on the side of the bath tub. “Out with it, Mother. I can see that it’s bothering you.”

Say it. Say that it is finally time for me to do my duty and wed Jacaerys.

But that was not what Rhaenyra said. “Ser Vaemond moves to challenge Lucerys’ succession to the Driftwood Throne.”

“What?” Aelinor sat back. “But it’s settled. Why is Lord Corlys allowing it?”

“He isn’t. He’s been gravely injured in the Stepstones,” Rhaenyra gave her a sad look, appearing genuinely bereaved by the injury to a man they all admired. “Baela wrote. We must make for King’s Landing to defend Lucerys’ claim before the Iron Throne.”

Aelinor’s mouth dropped open. “When?”

“We will leave tomorrow,” her mother stood. “And Aelinor?”

“Yes?” Already her mind was awhirl with everything that this might mean.

“This is…” She watched as her mother searched for the words. “We need to present a united front. We’ll be bringing our dragons, and I…I ask you to remember who your true family is.”

It was both a warning and a scolding, all wrapped up in one.

Aelinor nodded, and stared after her mother as she left the room.

She sat there for a long time, stewing in the bathwater. There was so much to think about. On one hand, she was more than a little relieved that she was not yet formally betrothed to her brother. But on the other, there was a genuine twinge of fear. She did not want the legitimacy of her brothers challenged, and she did not want their futures left uncertain. It was a settled succession, and Ser Vaemond was risking everything by drawing it into the open.

Her mother’s ascension to the throne would be questioned if her children were declared illegitimate, and Aelinor knew she would not be immune to that. She might look more Targaryen than Jace and Luc, but it was plain to see that she was not the daughter of Ser Laenor. Gods, this could ruin everything.

But, there was one thing that stood out above all else.

She was going back to King’s Landing.

She was going back to Aemond.

King’s Landing

“Get up!” Aemond snarled at the squire in front of him. “I thought you were here to train, not lie on your back like a whore!”

The boy scrambled to his feet, wiping mud off of his cheek. “Yes, my Prince.”

Aemond sighed. There were many young lords looking to squire for him, and so far none of them had impressed him at all. Most weren’t even worth using as training fodder. He had to give the Blackwood lad some credit — at least he hadn’t started crying yet.

“Keep your sword up,” Aemond rolled his eyes. “And maybe you’ll be able to stay upright.” It was as close as he would get to offering advice.

“Prince Aemond!” A voice called.

Aemond looked toward the walkway, seeing Ser Criston hurrying down the steps. “What is it, Cole?” He did not have much patience for his mother’s lackey, having always found Ser Criston to be a bit…well, if loyalty could be a fault, then it certainly was in Ser Criston.

Cole stopped, offering a curt nod that could perhaps pass as a bow. “Your mother The Queen bids you attend her. She is in her chambers.”

“Wonderful,” Aemond couldn’t imagine what his mother could have to say. He loved her well enough, and she him, but they never had much use for each other. She often scolded him, calling him too wild, too unruly, and yet he knew he did not get half the scoldings that his brother did. “Take care of this one.”

Ser Criston stared at the Blackwood boy in disdain, but nodded, shedding his white cloak and setting it away from the mud.

Aemond sheathed his sword, removing his gloves and hurrying toward the stairs. His boots splashed through the dir, and he saw many curious eyes turn his way.

Only once he was inside the castle did he slow to a walk, making his way toward his mother’s chambers. He passed many groups of lords and ladies, all of whom bowed in greeting, but he did not acknowledge them. They weren’t with his time.

A group of ladies-in-waiting gathered by the stairs, meaning he would have to walk straight past them. He recognized one of them by her red hair: the Tully girl. He thought her name might have been Myria or Myra or something like that. She had been presented at court a few months prior, with it plain as day that her family was angling to make a match between the two of them.

Now, as she had when she had first seen him in the receiving hall, she did not meet his gaze, bobbing a curtsy without ever looking him in the eye. He hurried past, hearing them erupt into giggles when they thought he was out of earshot.

It was always like that. Why shouldn’t they laugh at the maimed prince? He was practically a circus attraction. All he had to look forward to was a future married to some random lady who couldn’t look him in the eye, let alone work up the courage to speak to him. He tried not to let it bother him, after all, they weren’t worth his time.

His chambers were in the same tower as his mother’s, and he passed the closed door of his room as he knocked on her door. “Mother? You sent for me?” A maid swung open the door.

“Yes, Aemond,” his mother was seated on the sofa, his niece and nephew playing with a maid on the floor in front of her. “You can all leave us.”

Aemond stood with his hands behind his back, quirking a smile at his young niece as she was carried from the room.

“Sit, Aemond,” Alicent sighed. “We need to talk.”

“You make it sound very serious,” he dropped into the chair across from her. “How may I help.”

He swallowed nervously. Was this to be it then? Was today the day that he would be officially tied to one of the sycophants roaming around the castle? Gods, don’t let it be the Tully girl. Someone with some backbone, at least.

“I called for you because I think this is something that should be entrusted to your skills. You know the dragon keepers better than anyone.”

That did catch his attention. “The dragon keepers? Is something wrong with the dragons?”

Alicent sighed again, and he realized suddenly that his mother looked worried. More worried than he could ever recall seeing her, except that day when he had lost his eye. Even his father’s declining health had never caused the dark circles that now surrounded her eyes, and he could see that the skin of her nails had been picked until it bled.

“The Princess Rhaenyra is coming to make a petition,” she said finally. “She brings with her all of her children, and all of their dragons. The Dragon Put must be made ready for her and her hoard, and I must prepare a feast and a ball and all the like.”

Aemond felt his mouth go dry. “Her children? All of them? It couldn’t be. It seemed almost impossible. Nine long years had passed since…since…

“All of them,” his mother confirmed. “Which is the other reason I needed to speak with you.”

More likely, it was the only reason she had asked to speak with him. Subtlety was not his mother’s strong suit, and there was no reason the dragon keepers could not be briefed through a simple message. She had wanted to speak to him about his half-sister’s family, in person, for a reason.

Alicent leaned forward. “Aelinor will be with them, Aemond. But she is not the girl you remember. It has been nearly ten years, and you must remember who she is, and who you are.”

“And who is that, mother?”

“You are the legitimate second son of the King,” Alicent said. “And she is the bastard daughter of a false heir, who has spent nine years being fed their lies and derision, far from any realm of reason. The Aelinor you knew is gone.”

Aemond tensed. “That seems….Father has settled his succession, and we should not—”

“I am not here to argue succession with you, Aemond!” His mother snapped. “I want to be sure that you understand. When they enter this hall, it must be us, and it must be them. The fate of our family may very well depend on it.”

He knew that the succession crisis was constant fodder for the King’s critics, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Blast the Seven Kingdoms, and damn the succession. He didn’t care if his half-sister or her bastards, or his own damn brother ascended the throne. He disliked them all equally. All he cared for was Aelinor.

“Besides,” his mother sat back, fanning herself weakly with her hand. “She is betrothed to Jacaerys.”

“What? Jace?” Aemond spat, unable to contain himself. “Why have I not heard of this?”

“They haven’t been to court to announce it.” Aliecent sighed. “Knowing Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, Jacaerys has almost certainly bedded her already. What better way to secure their line?”

“That Strong boy will never—”

“Watch yourself, Aemond. Please.” His mother waved him away.

He didn’t want to draw out the conversation longer than necessary, and quickly stormed from the room. His mother had certainly achieved her objective, which was reminding him why he hated Jacaerys Velaryon so deeply. His own chambers were only a few doors away, and once he was there, he flung open the window and screamed into the open air. He didn’t give a damn if everyone in the courtyard could hear him.

For nine long years, he had stared across the sea toward Dragonstone. He had requested this chamber specifically because it faced south. And for the first few years, with decreasing frequency, he had begged his mother to grant him permission to fly that way. To where Aelinor was. To…he wasn’t quite sure what he had wanted to do. But he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone.

And now they had given her to Jace. Jace did not deserve her. That Strong boy did not deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Or, did he?

It had been many years since he had seen Aelinor, and she could have changed. She could be different to how he remembered her.

And she might not…

No, he wouldn’t let himself think about that. The truth was staring him in the face, the rage settling into his bones with every seething breath he took. Jace did not deserve Aelinor, but then, neither did he. He was just the scarred second son, after all, and she should be the lady of some great house. He wasn’t jealous, he was concerned for his childhood friend, who had been treated so carelessly by her family.

Given to Jace. He cursed aloud.

Still, his gaze drifted to his writing desk, and to the small box that sat in the top drawer. It had sat there for almost eight years, waiting.

And it had all been for nothing.

#house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones #got #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #lady of the ashes #fanfiction #fanfic

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should-have-been-at-the-club · 1 month

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Round 2 Match 4: They Should Have Been At The Club Tournament

Propaganda below the cut.

Propaganda for Hamlet:

i’m not restarting the centuries old age debate but rest assured he SHOULD have been at the club…… society (denmark) if hamlet had just fucked off and gone to the club instead

Propaganda for Buffy Summers:

One: She found out she was the chosen one when she was only 15 and after that was forced into all the responsibility that comes with constantly having to save the world. Honestly I feel like a lot of the Buffyverse characters could fit this tournament but she most of all. In her early twenties she had to deal with raising her younger sister, paying the bills, and yeah, saving the world. Oh and she died twice.

Two: She's the chosen one, she has to juggle a very busy 'normal' life AND her Even Busier secret life battling the forces of darkness (which nobody is supposed to know about)! She is constantly going through it and gets approximately two hours of sleep a night. From the age of fifteen up. Her first real boyfriend isn't a real boy (by which I mean he's a vampire and he's kinda old and he ends up killing a bunch of people close to her and then she has to kill him). Girl has it rough. Also the principal at her high school actually hates her. And I haven't even gotten past the first two seasons yet!

#should have been at the club tournament #round 2 #hamlet #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #shakespeare #btvs

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justmy-account · 5 months

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List of byler-gates

I’m just bored, but read it anyways, it’s fun

there sooo many of them, and i’m still pretty lazy so this isn’t perfect, but just let’s start

Mikhailgate

This is practically anti byler theory, but nvm

So, Dimitri has a son named Mikhail, which is russian version of name Michael, Mike

So, people were just saying that instead of Mike, Will will end up with Mikhail(who’s technically Mike bc of the name, yk)

I think everyone was just joking, oh, good ol’ times

and willloveinterestgate is the same

Lettergate/Pocketgate

These theories aren’t the same one, but it’s basically the same concept, ig

The basic thing is, that Mike wrote a letter to Will(singed Love, Mike)

In pocketgate, Mike has the letter saved in his triangle pocket, bc in st, characters many times has letters, that were important to them, in their left pocket(above the heart), for example Hopper and El(Hopper’s heart-to-heart), Jonathan(acceptance letter to college) etc.

And he would just take it out in the middle of confession or sth

+the triangle always points to Will like an arrow

Lettergate is just basically the same, ok, idk how to describe it differently

Twelvegate

Not exactly a byler, but theory, that Will was number twelve in HNL, and that he’s El’s actual twin

And from that, there’s theory that Will has powers, but wasn’t n. 012

Okay, back to byler

This is same as rainbowgate i think

Flickergate

This theory is very lovely! after Will tells Mike that rolled seven in s1, the light behind them flickers

and since ud is frozen on nov6 83, when you signal sth from ud, it should appear at nov6 83-s1

this connects to electricgate(i dunno if sth like this exist, but just keep reading), the electricity~are friends electric~will possibly having electric powers

so mike and will could go together in s5 to ud on a mission or sth, and kiss in wheelers garage, and that would make the light flicker(i’m so good at explaining things, right😐)

will and mike going to ud together is predicted by mike and will sitting on upside down couch in last ep. of s4

Birthdaygate/Memorygate

Soo, remember how they forgot Will’s birthday? what if all wills memories, that people reminded him of in the shed are gone? his birthday, building castle byers, meeting mike… and that’s why mike says that his life started the day he found her, bc he doesn’t remember meeting Will

for me, it’s really weird, they couldn’t just forget Will’s birthday, no, this ain’t it

Kiss at lovers lake

I’m not sure if this has a different name, but it’s that their first kiss will be near lovers lake

evidence: patrick(the kid who died at lovers lake), had a nickname “berlin wall” or sth(we saw this in the school newspaper), and it was devided to four, same as hawkins

and song heroes is abt couple who lived at different sides of berlin wall, and idk, it just connects, okay?

when will painted the map of hawkins while he was possessed, mike was holding blue and yellow meter

Eightfifteengate

Context: will left the wheelers at 8:15 in s1

in s1e1, time mark 8:15 is literally the shot where will disappears in the shead

i think there’s a season 2 soundtrack called eight fifteen

tw: time fuckery: while will was recording on halloween night, the time says 8:04 while he’s recording mike saying “did you agreed with this?”, but when joyce rewatches it, it show 8:15(byler)

“ it’s 8:15, you’re late”

btw, clocks and watches from hiroshima are stuck at 8:15

aaanywaaay, there’s just too much 8:15 things, aaah(this is just a few)

what it has to do with byler?

well, 15-8=….(wait for it)….seven. a byler number. it was a seven!

also, “the first lie”, when murray says this to jancy, the time mark is… guess what, 8:15

there’s this theory with the songs “the first lie” and “the first i love you”, and it just connects

Motelgate

theory, that after mike’s “love” confession to el, they went to a motel for sleep, and mike and will had to share a bed, and we could possibly see flashbacks of it in s5, and it would kinda explain the two day skip

Colorgate

blue and yellow meet in the west, i’m sure you know this one, and there’s sooo many evidence in this

mattduffersbasementgate

It’s too late for this to be true, but the duffers are(/were) holding every cast member that ships byler in their basement, lol

bloopergate

Bloopers from byler scenes, basically, for example “not when i was the spy, oh fuck”, basically Finn and Noah being all giggly, i guess

bloopergate implies to every blooper, but why not to mention it

curtaingate

Sth like, that when there’s some fight happening between characters, if curtains are open, it means they’re open with their feeling and opposite

Example: milkvan make out scene-closed, but you don’t love me fight-opened

Bonus: „ but they like the curtain. people like us are just trying to look behind the curtain”(my very bad quotation of murray, yk what i mean)

Also, Suzie had blue and yellow curtains, and they were opened

And, “and i love her and i can’t lose her again”? Also curtains closed, like wtf, this fandom is crazy

piggybackgate

El knows abt Mike and Will. she saw how they act around each other, she’ve heard will saying “you’re the heart” to mike, saw that mike has Will’s painting now

New Coke Theory

basically, old coca colla is mileven, new coke is byler. it contains some of the old ingredients(mike), and new ones too(will). not everyone likes(bc its gay ship). and when you look at scenes with can of new coke, it’s many times symbolizing byler vs. milkvan

one of my favorite new coke theory examples is this: in s3, after el gets attacked by the flesh monster, she tries to crash a can(but she doesn’t have her powers, so she can’t). this is a can of new coke(byler) and she can’t crush that/destroy it. and in this scene, we get a flashback to the lab, where she crushes aka destroys regular coke(mileven)

phonegate

mike and will not calling each other, bc of joyce’s telemarketer job(he won’t stop whining abt it)

————

i miss all these little silly theories abt literally everything

i hope the byler tag will be like this once again

maybe we could start naming our new theories “gate”s again

for example: heartfeltgat, strangerwritersgate, snowkissgate or sth

anyway, byee

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originalaccountname · 5 months

Note

i loved your post about dazai's relationship with chuuya vs oda. regarding this section:

"But Chuuya also serves as Dazai's wake up call (cue Dead Apple soundtrack) and keeps him from slipping too far. Yes Chuuya punched Dazai square in the face, but it was because Dazai was seeing an ally's death as an opportunity for him instead of a death. And it worked! Because Dazai then got into action not 2 days later to start on ending the conflict that had already been ongoing for over 2 months!"

i was always under the impression that Dazai didn't really care about reaching executive status (pretty sure i read it in canon somewhere, just can't remember where, but correct me if i’m wrong), & my assumption was that, even in that interaction with Chuuya, he was already setting his plan into motion (planting the microscope reference, maybe trying to get Chuuya out of the way so Dazai could confront/get captured by Shibusawa? etc).

plus, Dazai brought up letting mori plan things, & i don’t think mori would let Dazai just do nothing to help end the feud. he gives pretty free reign as long as if benefits/doesn’t have negative effects on the PM. i read that punching situation as Dazai lying about not caring & letting everyone die, but i’d love if you could expand on your thoughts!!

ps: thank you so much for your bsd analyses & meta... i consider you one of the best sources for accurate, unbiased, factual, canon compliant literary analysis of bsd & i appreciate your insight & research so much :)

🥺 that is both flattering and a reminder for me to always fact check myself hdsgfsj

First, plugging the complete Dragon's Head prologue by Asagiri again for everyone to read.

This is interesting and not an angle I really thought to look at it from!

I don't think Mori was actively planning to end the feud because they say the PM didn't suffer many losses in Fifteen and the SB epilogue specifies they mostly kept away from the fighting:

According to the prologue's timeline, there are 9 days between Dazai meeting Oda in a slight panic after a close encounter with Shibusawa (day 61) and Chuuya punching him for his comment (day 70). It's two days later (day 72) that Dazai confronts Shibusawa and vanishes. Chuuya finds Dazai and unleashes Corruption 15 days later (day 87).

What I would have said happened is that Dazai did not consider the conflict his problem for the most part, though he was aware of the recent developments. Then, the newly released Shibusawa got the Colonel, and his attempt at a joke about Chuuya and his' ongoing rivalry while telling Chuuya about the Colonel landed him a punch in the face. Chuuya was actually mad at him (rare) and announced he'll be doing something about the conflict, even without Dazai. Two days later, Dazai has a whole operation ready to go.

In this scenario, Dazai just dropped the microscope joke for fun and later used it because Chuuya would be able to recall their last conversation and find the tracking device and understand what he had to do. Chuuya's punch was a wake up call to recenter his priorities, because Dazai does care about people, but grew too detached in this case and had to be brought back.

Now, the scenario you're suggesting I understand like this: Dazai passively keeps track of the events of the conflict to be ready just in case. Then, they release Shibusawa into the fray, things go from bad to worse, and the Colonel is a casualty. Dazai starts planning to stop this guy before he becomes an even bigger threat, and antagonizes Chuuya as part of said planning. He shows Chuuya the Colonel's death to put him up to pace, and the open seat comment was to purposefully make Chuuya mad and push him away.

This second option could also give a new meaning to Dazai anxiously going to Oda, when Oda inadvertently met Shibusawa days earlier, either because Dazai was already neck-deep in planning, or as one of the moments he realized everyone he knew could be the next victim:

It would also make Dazai a bit less random here:

Maybe the real scenario is somewhere between the two. Maybe Dazai really was trying to make Chuuya react like usual by making him realize one of them would probably be granted the title shortly, but it was too much too soon. Maybe telling Chuuya about the Colonel's death was also his way of warning him that everyone was at risk out there.

We don't know when the Colonel died, but it had been 9 days since his scare with Oda, so perhaps Oda being so close to this threat made him really conscious of the danger. Maybe the short jokes with the microscope really was Dazai setting the scene for when he would soon confront (and probably lose to) Shibusawa, as he had had enough time to plan his next move by then.

There's also Ango we need to plug somewhere in there, with his records of the deceased PM members during the conflict, and Dazai who was accompanying Oda on cleanup duty for said deceased members. He had seen the dead, he had seen someone record them as people (and decided to befriend him). Dazai said he joined the PM to witness death, and he was basically neck-deep in it, perhaps it made the idea of seeing his close ones in their position too real, especially once Shibusawa showed up.

I think there's plenty of room for interpretation in all this information actually, if you bother to try to make the pieces fit. Asagiri is always going on about how ~mysterious~ Dazai is when he's not that complicated, come on, but there are times like this where the nebulous character motivations make that ~mystery~ shine because there could easily be more than one answer, depending on the reader.

#gonna have to look up how to record my phone screen one day to make the full dragon's head prologue experience available #long post #sorry about that 07 #ask answered #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dead apple #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd analysis #apparently i talk sometimes

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my-name-is-markus-with-a-k · 2 years

Text

Incompetent Markus playthrough, except instead of him actually being incompetent, Markus glitches out at the most inopportune times due to, you know, having been shot in the head. You can't tell me that Markus popped in two wet, old, dirty, semi-compatible bio-components into his head and he was good as new.

During the Cyberlife Warehouse raid he gets caught by the guards and North has to rescue him because he gets stuck in a preconstruction.

North tells him to lock the door during the Stratford Tower mission, and a full five seconds later he's forgotten what shes said and they get caught.

The Capitol Park mission where North bitches him out for standing there the whole fifteen minutes doing nothing, Markus is just like "15 minutes? Wdym we got here like 2 minutes ago???"

Have him being shot and almost killed have side-effects. Let North come to the realisation that 'oh, hes not actually incompetent, he's impaired". And then find ways to accommodate that.

#dbh markus #dbh north #dbh #detroit become human #markus rk200 #north wr400 #norkus #sort of but not really

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jhilsara · 1 month

Text

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 16

Mariana usually never gets off earlier than closing time. Today was one of those rare days that she got to leave around midnight instead of the early hours of three in the morning, or worse four.

She waves goodbye to Andy and the new girl who’s taking over her last few hours. Andy’s training her so they aren’t under staffed.

She leaves out the back and is ready to head home, maybe have a few hours of peaceful time to read or even catch up on a show or two.

She walks off down the street alone, it’s one of those nights that Hobie’s out patrolling and he can’t walk her home. Which wouldn’t bother her normally. Except about two blocks into her walk she feels like she’s being watched.

She stops and looks around, and the streets not dead, but the people walking are all tipsy walking to their next destination. No ones prying eyes are on her. She looks up, but still nothing. No one’s creeping on her looking out their flats windows, or at least that she can see.

She bites her lip and tries to push the sinking feeling away. She starts to walk once more. She makes it another block before the dreadful feeling consumes her. She doesn’t stop to look this time. She deviates her route. She isn’t walking home, not like this.

Not when she’s being followed. Part of her wonders if it’s that one patron from the bar, but he was arrested.

She shudders at the memory. She tries to not run, or quicken her pace. She knows one of the clubs down this road so she’ll just go there at least until they close. She sees the line to get in and she goes and waits. Her friend Sam works as the bouncer here and she greats her happily.

Sam’s like most bouncers, broad as a barrel and built to handle unruly crowds. She’s standing her post, arms crossed, looking intimidating without even trying. She’s more than glad Sam’s working tonight.

“I didn’t know you were swingin’ by tonight!” she says with a wide smile.

She returns it, but talks to Sam through her teeth, “I think someone’s following me...” She says in a tight voice.

Sam nods and rubs MJ’s back reassuringly. “Got it, go in and find Karla, she’ll get you situated.” She tells her.

She nods her head and dips inside, quickly walking over to the bar that Karla’s at. She’s shaking a bit and she’s never been happier that she’s close to the other bar workers in the area.

“Hey Karla,” she says leaning onto the bar.

Karla whips her head around and the smaller women looks more than happy. She smiles bouncing over to the end that MJ is standing at. She greets her happily.

“What are you doing here? Thought you were working tonight.” She asks her with a curious look.

MJ sighs and gives her the same story she told Sam at the front. She’s wringing her hands together nervously because the last thing she wants is to have another stalker.

Karla nods and tells her other bartender that she’s going on her fifteen. She pulls MJ to the back, which is much quitter from the booming music of the dance club.

“Do you have anyone you can call?” She asks MJ with concern.

She nods, she knows she’s calling Hobie. There’s no question there.

“Yeah, I got someone. I’m gonna call him and hopefully he picks up.” She tells her.

Karla nods and crosses her arms, “If he doesn’t me and Sam can take you home, or you can crash at our place. I don’t want you alone…not if you think you’re being followed.” Karla says nervously.

“I mean, especially after that other stalker almost attacked you… I don’t want another situation like that.” She tells her friend looking at her with worry.

MJ feels fear grip her heart at the memory, but she shakes it off. “Promise I’ll let you know. I’ll be fine though Hobie always answers when I call.” She reassures her friend.

Karla raises a brow, “Hobie? Is he the one you’ve been mucking about with all the time these past few months?” she says a little accusing, but MJ knows she’s being curious not mean.

She feels her own face burn a little and she nods. “Yea, we just, we get each other.” She shrugs trying to be indifferent.

Karla doesn’t buy it, rolling her eyes, “So he’s your boyfriend yea?”

“No, we’re…” MJ starts but stops…she feels her shoulders deflate. “I don’t know what we are…I just don’t want to lose him…he’s special.” She murmurs looking up at Karla.

She nods in understanding. “That’s how I felt about Sam, and now we’re married.” She says knowingly.

“Just don’t wait around too long, yea? I don’t want you to push someone away who could be good for you.” She tells MJ softly.

MJ nods solemnly, she doesn’t want to think about it. She’s scared, mostly. She doesn’t want to ask to define their relationship, because after everything with her mother… she loves him. She knows she does.

But she doesn’t know if he loves her. That is what scares her.

Karla’s break ends and she leaves, giving MJ a firm hug.

MJ doesn’t hesitate to call Hobie, still feeling the pit in her stomach from being followed. One problem at a time.

“Hey, you okay? You never call this early.” His voice slides through her speakers, easy and calm. It relaxes her. She can hear the cars in the distance, he’s probably on a building.

“Um… no?” She hesitates but sighs. “I’m at Spring Awakening, you know the dance club a few blocks down from the pub?” She tells him.

He hums in acknowledgement. “What’s wrong?” He asks her, voice calm, but she hears the wind. He’s already moving.

“Nothing technically, but, I don’t know, I felt someone watching me? Does that make sense? Someone was following me.” She tells him.

“If you think you’re being watched, odds are you are. I’m comin’.” He tells her in a firm voice.

“Can you stay on the phone with me?” She asks hesitantly.

He gives a soft chuckle, “Was plannin’ on it luv.”

It doesn’t take him more than ten or so minutes to get there. He knocks on the back door and she lets him in.

“You doin’ alright?” he asks her softly, holding onto her arms gently.

She nods, “Better now.” She tells him. “Let me go tell Karla I’m leaving, so she doesn’t worry.”

He nods and let’s her go back. She returns within ten minutes and he walks out the back with her. He’s still in his spider suit. Hoping it’ll keep anyone away.

“Do you want to walk home or swing? I could lose anyone if we swing.” He says with a smug tone.

She rolls her eyes, but the idea of being followed is enough to make her want to swing over walking. Even though she hates being up in the air. She doesn’t know how Hobie doesn’t get sick from it, but he’s built different. Literally.

He easily wraps his arms around her firmly and shoots a web. She’s flying off the ground and she squeezes her eyes shut.

He goes the long way, taking a couple of wrong turns just in case. She knows he has that… spider sense? She thinks that’s what he calls it. She really isn’t sure. She just knows that he senses danger much quicker than she can. So, she’s hoping that if that was going off he’d tell her.

He finally makes it to her complex and they both enter through the back. Hobie stays downstairs to wait it out. Just in case they were followed. She makes it to her flat and quickly goes in. She doesn’t bother turning on the lights and just drags herself to the bathroom.

She gave Hobie a key and he’s let himself in a million times. She’s ready to shower off the pub and the anxiety that’s still rattling around in her gut.

She takes a long shower, burning her skin with the hot water, her maroon hair falling down her back as she rakes her hands through it with shampoo. She tries to not think about the fear that gnaws at the back of her head. She’s okay, nothing happened. Hobie’s here and she’s safe.

She’s helped Hobie take down the Vulture, a Lizard, and the Green Goblin. She can handle some weirdo trying to stalk her. She’s dealt with worse.

She takes a shaky breath and finishes her shower.

When she exits the bathroom to the living room, Hobie’s sitting on her couch in his casual clothes just waiting for her. His head looks up as he hears her footsteps.

“Good?” He asks softly pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

She nods, “Just exhausted now.” She tells him truthfully.

“No one followed, promise.” He says as he stands up and stretches, “Go to bed, I’ll be in there soon. I need to shower.”

She gets up to grab him an extra towel and tosses it to him. “Your extra clothes are in the top drawer.” She tells him.

“I know!” he smiles brightly and pops into her room shuffling for some spare clothes before he closes the door to her bathroom.

She double checks to make sure her doors are locked, front and patio. When she’s satisfied she finally crawls into her bed. She tries to wait for Hobie but it’s a losing fight against the heaviness of her lids. She feels the weight shift as he gets under the covers and she rolls to find his body heat, but she’s already blissfully asleep. The last coherent thing she can remember is his arms slotting around her waist.

The next shift she has isn’t until that following Tuesday. It’s one of their slowest nights and honestly, they tend to only keep one bartender on.

She’s alone behind the bar, with one waiter and maybe about twenty patrons. It’s been a very slow night.

It’s around one in the morning and she needs to take out the trash behind the bar. She ties it all up, tells Mark, the waiter on shift, she’ll be right back.

Once she’s out back by the dumpster, she has that sinking feeling again. Like she’s being watched…or hunted.

She tosses the trash into the dumpster and before she can even turn around to look at her surroundings, she hears screaming and sees people running out of the pub. She doesn’t get a chance to see what’s happening before the pub explodes.

The explosion sends her across the pavement, rolling and debris falling on her. Everything hurts, searing pain goes down her body and she feels like she’s spinning. She can’t hear anything besides the ringing in her ears. She tries to open her eyes, but all she sees is smoke and fire.

She doesn’t even know where she is in comparison. The pub seems so far away, but too close at the same time.

She needs to push herself up, she has to get out, she’ll suffocate from the smoke if she doesn’t.

Her body barely moves and the burning pain that shoots up her right leg tells her it’s broken. She looks down and sees a large chunk of the brick wall is on her right leg. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to think, but everything is spinning behind her eyes and she thinks she’s going to vomit from it all.

First things first, she has to at least pry herself out from under the wall debris.

She manages to sit herself upright and starts lifting what she can. It’s not as if the whole wall fell on her, but it’s big enough that her arms are shaking. She’s able to lift enough to shimmy herself out, but it hurts so much she’s sobbing. Once her broken leg is far enough away she drops the wall back down roughly and she falls flat on her back. Taking in deep breathes.

There’s still smoke everywhere and she needs to try to crawl away.

She sees yellow and green lights fly above her, quick and speedy and not normal street lights. She would know those lights anywhere. It was the bottom of the Goblin’s glider.

Suddenly she’s being swooped up off the ground and is flung in the air. She thinks it’s Hobie for a moment, but when she can finally open her eyes she’s staring at the mask of the Goblin.

“What-” she tries to talk but the smoke filled in her lungs makes her hack like crazy.

The Goblin jostles her and she shrieks, they cackle in response.

She struggles against them, shoving herself and trying to kick with her one good leg. “Let me go!” She spits out trying to shimmy herself away.

The Goblin’s flying on their glider faster than Hobie swings her above the city. Maybe this wasn’t her best idea, but it had to be better than being kidnapped.

“You’ll get put down, eventually.” They say in a clipped tone that makes her feel like they are talking about putting down an animal instead. It sends a shudder down her back.

She’s starting to panic and she has no idea where she even is. Suddenly the glider has a force pulling on it, and it almost sends her flying towards the ground. The Goblin’s grip on her is tight, almost bruising.

She tries to look for the source but she hears it before she sees it.

“Kidnapping now? That’s how low you’ve stooped?” It’s Hobie. His words might be the usual light joking tease he pulls when he fights, but the way he says it isn’t. His voice is hard and short.

He’s angry, in fact, she doesn’t know if she’s ever heard this tone in his voice.

“Looks like the Spider found it’s bait!” The Goblin cackles out, easily cutting away the webs to fly above.

“If you want her you better cast your web Spider-Man! The clocks ticking.” The Goblin goads him. He flies off and in the distance, MJ can see it.

It’s the Old York clock tower. It’s the highest structure in the city. Suddenly she feels her stomach drops. She shivers and the adrenaline shoots through her. Out of all the things she thought would happen today, being tossed off a clock tower like a rag doll wasn’t on it.

She starts to thrash against the Goblin but they just tighten their grip, and MJ feels the pain shoot through her broken leg. She cries out in pain.

“Mariana!” She hears Hobie shout for her, voice loud.

The Goblin flies to the top of the clock tower and hovers, waiting. Hobie lands on the tower, sticking to the side and glares up.

She feels the Goblin move her and dangle her above the city. “I’m tired of these games we play Spider-Man, and I’m getting tired of your little friend either interfering with my other chess pieces or almost killing me.” They hiss out.

MJ is clawing onto the arms of the Goblin tightly, she’s never been more afraid than in this moment. She bites back a sob.

“Not so brave now are you? You little brat!” the Goblin yells pulling her up to their face.

“Leave her alone, she has nothin’ to do with me! She’s just a random woman.” Hobie growls out, trying to dissuade the Goblin from doing anything drastic.

“Oh please, she’s important to you. You think you’re so smart, the both of you.” They say glaring down at MJ.

“You sent me to the hospital… I almost died because of that little flare gun stunt you pulled. You didn’t think I could see you, in the smoke, right? I made the tech on this suit, of course it can see through smog and smoke! I saw every little detail on your face little girl…and I’ll see your fear when I end your life.” They snarl to her.

Hobie tries to move to grab her, but the Goblin whips their head to look at him, releasing one hand from her to hover over the bombs on their belt.

MJ looks at the Goblin, and her own stubbornness might be the death of her but she doesn’t care, she’s more angry than scared right now. A fierce glare covers her face, replacing any other emotion. She sees the bombs that the Goblin’s hand hovers over on the utility belt and she gets an idea, it’s stupid, but it’s better than nothing. She erratically flings herself, to grab for one of the bombs on the Goblin’s belt and because their only gripping onto her with one hand, she succeeds surprisingly.

“I’m not afraid of a monster who hides behind a stupid goblin mask and bombs… and for the record, maybe don’t carry all your bombs underneath your glider where it’s an easy target.” She bites out. She hits the button to activate the bomb.

The Goblin, either in fear or shock, loosens their grip and drops her. It’s what she wants. She throws the bomb up, and it contacts the bottom of the glider. This time, a much bigger explosion than what her flare gun had set off.

She feels herself falling, she can’t see much beyond the smoke. She feels a little dumb in maybe her last moments, she thinks maybe her life should be flashing before her eyes but it’s not.

All she can really think about… is Hobie.

Beyond the smoke, she sees something falling towards her. She can’t make it out but it’s coming towards her quickly. She hopes its not the glider, she can’t dodge that in the air and she’d rather gravity be her demise than anything from the Goblin.

It’s not though, it’s Hobie. She sees his Spider-Man mask first as he falls towards her. Arms stretched out to grab her.

She laughs, it’s not funny, she’s just hysterical right now. She reaches toward him. Her barrels into her, wrapping his body around her tightly. She clings her arms to him, and feels the momentum of them falling together.

He keeps a good grip on her and shoots out a web, hurling them somewhere else.

She really might puke, she probably will once this is all over.

Hobie takes his time, swinging them and shooting different webs to slow down their momentum until their both safe on the ground. He lays her down, holding her head.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” He says in a clipped tone, but she can hear the fear behind his voice.

She’s breathing heavily, trying to calm down her own heart rate. “I… I need a hospital.” She says before turning away from him and vomiting on the street.

He picks her up gently when she’s done and goes in the direction of the nearest hospital, which thankfully isn’t far.

“What were you thinking? You could have died Mariana…” He hisses out to her, voice shaking.

She shakes her head, “They blew up the pub Hobie…they were trying to kill me…I was just taking them out with me.” She replies, voice raw and quiet.

“Fuck, Mariana…” He whispers to her. He’s looking ahead, he can’t look at her right now or he’ll crack. She can feel him shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay…we’re okay.” She tells him.

He’s shaking his head aggressively. “It’s not okay, none of this is okay. You almost died because of me.” He says in a tight voice.

He makes it to the hospital and rushes in, immediately the A&E staff are up and rushing over to them. He hands Mariana over to them. She starts to shove the workers away from her, this conversation isn’t over.

“Don’t you dare push me away because of this! Do you hear me?!” she shouts after him, as she is being dragged away to a room to be looked at.

“I’m serious! You promised!” She disappears behind the doors and the last thing she sees is Hobie flinch at her words.

The nurses that surround her are actively looking and prodding her, she cries as they touch her broken leg, and in the midst of everything the adrenaline stops and the exhaustion takes over.

Suddenly the world goes black.

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

Message if you would like to be added to the tag list!

#hobie brown #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x oc #mary jane watson #mary jane oc #hobie atsv #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse fanart #my art #spiderpunk #spider punk

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ask-staticschoolhouse · 2 months

Text

Don't have Wattpad? Don't worry! Here's the entirety of Static Schoolhouse.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw it.

The last thing Lee remembered was getting in an argument with his mom and sisters over dinner that night. He blinked, and once he looked, he didn't see his family.

Instead, he saw a colorful building. It didn't have a name, but he decided to go in, phasing through the door in an odd manner.

He was greeted by a man in a wheelchair with brown hair, a blue hoodie and shiny, gray prosthetics.

"Hello?"

The man perked up and smiled. He looked like he was lonely before Lee appeared..

"Hey there! Uh.. Welcome to my school, I guess..! Go ahead and get two papers if you wanna get out, which I assume you do..."

Lee looked surprised, but he really wasn't. The man read his mind, somehow.

"Wow.."

"Wait- that's not the point. What's your name?"

Lee was curious, and he wanted answers and freedom.

"I'm Dave!"

Dave's smile was bright, and he looked excited to see someone. Despite that massive scar taking over the entire right side of his face, he seemed very kind.

Lee nodded and walked into one of the rooms to get a paper, but he noticed something on a desk.

A second paper, that looked like a diary entry.

He walked over to read it, even if it's wrong to read someone's diary.

"Day 1 Of The School. I'm confused, but I'm not exactly scared. I've been to other dimensions before, though, so once I get home, I'll research this. -Dave Walker"

Lee was surprised, but he solved an algebra quiz on the table and grabbed the paper.

Maybe one day he'll find out where he is...

Maybe…

He decided to get the paper, but he needed to solve a math quiz first.

It's easy enough! 5×3 is 15, 8×8 is 64, and 1+1 is obviously 2.

After that, he got the coin Dave gave him and headed to the detention room to see the posters he was told about.

"Let's see..."

There were seven posters for everyone in the school, but there were some blank ones on the floor.

Lee just decided to read them all in order, because it would probably make more sense.

The first one read:

Dave! Dave is a disabled twenty-seven year old man, who was burned too. He was the first to arrive, and takes the role of a teacher in the school.

"Alright.."

The next one read:

Garrett! Garrett is a fifteen year old kid who loves talking about animals. He's missing his right arm, but he's really smart. He was the second to arrive, but he gave up on the third paper.

The poor kid..

After that, it reads:

Spike is a seventeen year old bully. He's Garrett's older brother, and he's really rude. He gave up on the sixth paper, and he's confirmed that he really didn't care about leaving.

"He really didn't care? Weird.. I wanna get out of here, dead or alive!"

Lee's clearly confused and scared..

Moving over to the next one, it says:

Hall Monitor! Hall Monitor was the fourth to get here, and he's an alien. He's 34 and takes misbehaving children to detention. Also, he failed to get all of the papers.

These poor people..

Alrighty then.. Next up is.. A broom? Okay.. Fine..

Gotta Sleep is a sweeper, or "sleeper," as we call him. He's the perfect janitor, and puts people to sleep upon physical contact. He was the fifth to arrive, and he failed as well.

Welp, next up is- A DIAMOND??

Dear God..

Diamond Man is a fifteen year old diamond that hates being looked at. It triggers him, so we don't recommend staring at him for too long. He was the sixth to arrive, and he also failed.

This is getting weird..

Finally, we have- A robot? Really?

"What the hell..?"

PlayRobot is a fourteen year old robot who loves to play. She's wholesome and really nice, but she can easily get viruses, so don't use the USB Stick on her. She got here soon after Diamond Man, making her the seventh to arrive and the fourth to fail.

That's.. Odd.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll get the papers. This place is insane, and I dunno what to do."

Way to state the obvious..

He ran out to the next paper, but something was weird.

The last question was just a bunch of scribbles and gibberish, so it was physically impossible to read.

Lee just put down 12 and walked away, but he heard screaming in the other room.

It was Dave, and he sounds MAD. His wheelchair started up loudly, and he started to chase Lee.

Run.

Lee dashed through the hallways, grabbing two notebooks on the way. He took a turn to the cafeteria, where he was met with four figures sitting at a table and talking.

He approached the four cautiously.

"..Hello?"

Three of them turn around, and the other just jumps. They're all staring at him, and as Lee takes a closer look, he realizes that those are the kids here.

Garrett, Spike, Diamond Man and PlayRobot.

Diamond Man looked a little mad..

"Why are you staring at us?"

"Sorry, I-"

Lee turned around, but he heard something.

It was Dave, and he sounded MAD.

Garrett jumped up and grabbed Lee.

"HURRY!!"

Spike, Diamond Man and PlayRobot hurried over to a vending machine and put in a coin, and Garrett ran after them, dragging Lee with him.

Then, the vending machine moved to the side and a small set of stairs and a hole in a wall that looks like a bedroom for four appeared.

This was a lot for Lee to process, and he just looked around in silence and the others screamed.

They leaped into the room and pushed the vending machine back.

"There. Now that that's over, we should introduce ourselves!"

PlayRobot sounded happy that there was someone new, but also a bit sad.

"I'm PlayRobot. And you are..?"

The original four kids stared at Lee, looking interested.

"Uh.. I'm Lee."

"Nice name. I'm K- I mean Diamond Man."

He slipped up? How could he forget his own name?

Due to pure confusion, Lee just nodded.

"I'm Garrett!"

Welp, he's clearly excited.

"I'm Spike."

His voice was almost monotone, and he was clearly bored.

"Cool.. Uh.. I heard that you guys found some papers. Do you think you can help?"

"Sure."

Diamond Man smiled down at Lee, and the five kids looked hopeful.

"Oh, just a heads-up, this place is insane. We think there's one more person here, but we don't know who, what or where they are."

Garrett sighed.

The five left the hideout and headed to the fifth paper, unaware of what was about to happen just hours later.

PlayRobot rushed out first, clearing the way for everyone.

"Alright everyone! The next paper is this way!"

She heads over to the next paper, smiling.

"Uh, hey PlayRobot? Are you sure this is the best way to go? Cuz I didn't make it this far, and-"

"Garrett, it's fine! Just trust me."

He nodded and stopped in front of the door. Why is he doing that?

"Maybe me and PlayRobot should stay out here and keep watch for Dave.."

"That's a great idea!"

PlayRobot seemed excited that Garrett would want to stay with her.

"Alright, well, me, the crystal and the new kid are gonna get the paper."

Spike seemed genuinely happy to get out of the school, even if his poster said that he didn't really want to leave.

"See you later!"

The three head into the class in an awkward silence.

After about ten minutes of arguing over math, a loud scream can be heard from outside of the classroom.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

"LEE, CALM THE HELL DOWN!!"

"SHUT IT, CRYSTALFACE!!"

They run out of the room, and Spike and Diamond Man are pushing each other out of the way.

Oh dear God..

Looks like Garrett's gone!

"PLAYROBOT!! WHAT HAPPENED??"

"Listen, uh, Dave showed up with a USB, and Garrett tried to protect me! But Dave got him in the heart with it.."

For a while, it's just a moment of silence before Diamond Man starts sobbing uncontrollably.

That night, Lee snuck into a side room of the secret hideout and grabbed a briefcase entitled "TRANSFORMATION TAPES."

He slowly slid the tapes into the VCR and started watching the tapes.

What the hell?

As it turns out, Hall Monitor, Gotta Sleep, Diamond Man and PlayRobot were once humans.

The tapes show them returning to Dave with seven papers, before they turn into their current forms.

Dear God..

Lee just tried to ignore it and go to bed.

The next day, Diamond Man got out of his bed and headed over to Lee, with the spots under his eyes being shinier than usual due to crying.

"..Hey."

Lee was curled up next to the TV with a blanket and pillow.

"I assume you saw the tapes?"

"Yeah.."

Diamond Man walked over to put his jacket on, still looking sad about Garrett.

"Listen, I know you didn't Garrett for a while, but I've known him for 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, and he was my best friend."

"Sorry about your loss.. Y'know, I'm sure if we hurry up, we can get out of here faster!"

Diamond Man just nodded and walked over to the others to wake them up.

After a few minutes, they were ready to go.

"I think we should go to the west wing first."

"Shut it, AI girl, before I throw you halfway across the school."

"Okay then!"

Spike ran out into the hallway, but got taken to detention after screaming.

"There he goes.."

"Lee, I don't think now's the time.."

Diamond Man looked down at PlayRobot after she said that, then froze up as he heard Dave.

"Hurry!!"

He ran forward, but he fell, shattering as he did so.

"OOOWWWWWWW!!!!"

PlayRobot and Lee looked mortified as they stared down at him.

"ARE YOU JUST GONNA STARE OR ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME??"

Lee hurried up and picked him up, and he looked like he was in extreme pain.

"God.. I dunno if I'm gonna make it.."

"Diamond Man, don't say that! You're gonna be fine!"

PlayRobot looked hopeful, but Diamond Man looked like he was losing hope.

"I miss being Kyle.."

The other two looked confused.

"..What?"

"Yeah, who's Kyle?"

Diamond Man sighed and looked up at the others.

"Listen, my name isn't really Diamond Man. It's Kyle. I don't wanna be here anymore. I wanna go home. The last thing I remember is fighting my brothers, then blinking once and showing up here."

They go silent and look away.

"Listen, I just-"

"..Tell Spike that he's stupid for me, okay?"

He closed his eyes, and, well, kicked the bucket.

The other two stood up in pure silence and headed to the next paper, looking depressed.

The duo went to the next paper silently, steering their eyes away from each other.

"..That was weird, wasn't it?"

Lee let out a forced chuckle, but PlayRobot wasn't amused.

That's embarrassing..

"There's just one left. Good luck, you'll need it."

"We should go pick up Spike, shouldn't we?"

"Sure.."

PlayRobot dragged Lee over to the detention room and peeked in the window.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"What?"

She lifted Lee up to the window, and he sighed.

"First Garrett, then Diamond Man, and now Spike?"

They sighed and headed to the final room.

"Let's get out of here.."

Lee looked down at PlayRobot, his curiosity peaking.

"PlayRobot, I-"

"..I saw the tapes. You had every paper, but you didn't make it out of here. How do you think we're gonna make it out?"

PlayRobot sighed and fiddled with her fingers, playing a quiet song on her speaker.

"Dave always told us that someone special could free us. I was hoping that you were that someone.."

He nodded and wrote the answers on the quiz.

Suddenly, everything went red, and there was an unholy screech in the other room.

"GO, GO, GO!!!"

PlayRobot shoved Lee out of the room in a heavy panic.

"WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!!! GET TO THE EXITS ON THIS SIDE, I'LL TAKE THE OTHER ONE!!!"

Lee didn't understand, but he nodded and ran to the exit.

Suddenly, the exit disappeared.

"WHAT THE-??"

"THAT'S NORMAL!!! I'LL SEE YOU LATER!!!"

She rushed over to the other side, and Lee was left alone.

He needs to hurry up and get out of there. There's a mental timer in his head, and he's running out of time.

Lee ran over to the next exit, and everything got more red as it disappeared.

"WHAT THE-???"

He ran all over the school, looking for PlayRobot.

Suddenly, everything disappeared, turning into an entirely white void.

"..Where?"

PlayRobot appeared next to him, and he gently picked her up to comfort her.

"Where are we? I've never been here before.."

After that, Dave and Gotta Sleep showed up.

"..Where am I?"

Dave mumbled.

"I dunno what's going on.."

Gotta Sleep started screaming, like normal.

Soon after, Hall Monitor spawned next to Dave while doing the Peter Griffin fallen pose.

"I don't understand, you guys. If you're all here, even Hall Monitor, who died, then where are Garrett, Spike and Diamond Man?"

As soon as Lee said that, the trio appeared in the middle of everyone.

"I'm back?"

"GARRETT!!!"

Diamond Man rushed over to Garrett, holding him close.

Spike pulled down his glasses just to show an eye roll.

"I thought there was someone else.."

Soon after, a glitchy, black and red stick figure showed up.

"..Dad?"

"Wait, Diamond Man, that's your Dad?"

"Shut up, Garrett.."

He walked over to the figure, and they turned around.

"..Who?"

Diamond Man clinged onto the man, and it hit him.

"Oh, Kyle! It's you! I've been in that damn room for four years straight.. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.."

Diamond Man nodded, completely lost in his thoughts.

"Hey, Garrett? Who the hell is Crystalface hugging?"

Spike asked this, sounding like the jerk he is.

"Oh, that's Null. He's Diamond Man's Dad, and he's really nice. I only met him once though.."

He nodded and looked at the two.

Suddenly, there was a rumble that echoed throughout the void, and the inhuman characters had an explosion-like forcefield around them all.

After a few seconds, everyone but Null are their human selves.

"..Allie? Is that you?"

Diamond Ma- Sorry.. Kyle looked over to PlayRobot, who looked like a wholesome fourteen year old girl. (Lucky..)

"..What's going on?"

Kyle looked around, seeing what everyone used to be.

Hall Monitor, or Mike, looks like a middle-aged researcher or scientist.

Gotta Sleep, or Andrew, looked middle-aged as well, but instead he looked like a janitor.

PlayRobot, or Allie, well, you already know.

And Kyle? He's a fifteen year old with a diamond necklace and snow jacket.

Lee walked over to everyone, smiling.

"Thank you, really."

Allie smiled at him, and even Spike smiled for once.

"No, Lee. Thank 𝘺𝘰𝘶. I know that my poster said that I didn't wanna leave, but I hate it here. I wanna see Junior one more time."

Garrett smiled up at Spike, and a portal opened.

Mike sighed.

"I guess it's time to go."

Andrew kept a blank face and walked in with Mike.

Spike backed up.

"SCREW THIS PLACE!!! I'M SEEING MY LITTLE BROTHER AGAIN!!!"

He charged into the portal, headbutting the wall of his room.

Dave looked over to Lee, looking grateful.

"Lee, thank you. Five years of being stuck in a school with no one but kids, an alien and a broom without your family can really do something to a person."

He slowly wheeled into the portal, smiling uncontrollably.

Now, all that's left is Garrett, Allie, Adam, and Lee.

Garrett sighed, looking a bit sad.

"I guess it's my turn.."

He hugged the other three tightly, tears flowing out of his eyes.

"Goodbye.."

He turned back to the portal and jumped into it, landing next to Spike, who was hugging their little brother, Jr.

Allie looked at the other two, smiled, waved and left.

Kyle started sobbing again, fidgeting with his necklace.

"I'm finally gonna go home.."

"Goodbye, Lee."

He jumped into the portal, smiling.

"Bye.."

Lee sighed and smiled. He wasn't here as long as the others, but he hated it there.

"Goodbye, you stupid school."

He jumped into the portal, and it closed.

There was no return, and he was happy.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕟𝕕.

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allylikethecat · 3 months

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January OTP Prompts

I remembered that this was a thing today and am happy to report I managed to write this, this morning before embarking on my day! I cannot BELIEVE we only have two more days left and that I haven't missed a day or given up yet. I always joke about my commitment issues, and this was a huge commitment and I'm just so proud of myself for being so close to the finish line - and for everyone being so kind and supportive of them! Thank you so much!!

29. Peaceful kiss

Matty was a thirty four year old man with an incredibly hot fiance. He loved having sex. The sex he had and George had was phenomenal, having learned every inch of each other's bodies, over the course of the last fifteen years. But there was something he also loved about kissing, not as any kind of foreplay, not as any kind of precursor for what was to come, but kissing for the sake of kissing. The soft and sleepy way that George would press his lips to the corner of Matty’s mouth when he got up first for sunrise yoga. The way Matty would turn his head, deepening the kiss, peaceful and lazy, not caring that they both had morning breath. The way that Matty would stand up on his tiptoes and kiss George’s chin, his day-old stubble rough against Matty’s lips, the way George would laugh, and pick Matty up, setting him on the kitchen counter so he could stand between his legs and kiss him properly.

The way George would tip him back on the couch, settled between his splayed thighs, holding him down as he licked and bit and kissed Matty within an inch of his life, leaving his heart racing and his head swimming as he gasped for air. It was like he wanted to confirm that Matty was real, Matty was there, Matty was alive. He was always happy to oblige and soothe George’s fears.

George sat down on the outdoor couch next to Matty, pressing a kiss to Matty’s own stubbly cheek and a cup of coffee into one hand, a plate of toast into the other. Matty was curled on the cushions, watching the waves lap against the shore, the early morning light casting the patio in an eternal glow.

Matty raised an eyebrow at the toast and George just smiled fondly, pressing another kiss to the corner of his eye. Shifting, careful to make sure Matty didn’t spill his coffee, but pulling him to his chest, resting his hand against Matty’s sleep warm stomach, running his fingers against the soft skin under the hem of his tee shirt.

“You always get nauseous if you drink coffee on an empty stomach,” George reminded him fondly. Matty’s heart squeezed in his chest and he leaned forward to set the coffee and the toast onto the glass coffee table in front of him before leaning back and twisting in George’s arms.

“I love you,” Matty said, hoping that George could feel the weight in his words. He wasn’t saying them because George brought him coffee and toast, but because he noticed the little things. Matty knew that when he took a sip, his coffee would have a splash of milk and two sugars in it. His toast was toasted to the perfect golden brown color with the perfect amount of butter spread carefully across the surface, just the way he liked it. Because George loved him too. George knew how he liked his coffee, and knew he needed to eat the toast with it so that he didn’t end up shaky and nauseous from the acidic caffeine on an empty stomach.

Instead of answering, George leaned down and kissed him, and Matty sighed happily against George’s lips. He knew he was loved.

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

#allylikethecat #January OTP Prompts #Prompt Fill #Prompt Fills #Gatty #Matty Fic #Keep it Kind #I truly cannot believe we only have two days left #im so thankful to everyone who has been so supportive of these #i truly did not expect anyone to read them #so thank you so much #Happy Monday!

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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Tivaevae | Chapter Three: Paper Piecing

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 7,367 Chapter TW: CSA Mention Chapter Summary: Anakin returns to Coruscant with a new initiate, Ahsoka discovers a horrifying truth about Boba's past, and Boba tries to reconnect with Rex.

Anakin had been on Coruscant for a grand total of six hours before being gravely approached by Master Yoda with a solemn request; hurry to unstable Toydaria and retrieve a Force-sensitive toddler. Toydarian was his first language, after all, and perhaps the old toad had sensed that he wanted to be on the opposite side of the galaxy from his lying, backstabbing, heartbreaking, dick-for-brains Master.

Padmé, ever the opportunist, had jumped to offer her diplomatic cruiser for the mission. Since they had just averted the assassination of her mentor and oldest ally, it was the least she could do. It could fit a grand total of fifteen passengers; two pilots, three navigators, four guests, and six guards. They'd passed on the guards and had instead taken Dormé, Moteé, and Ellé along with Artoo and Threepio.

And, of course, little Taarak Na'Hane-Bata.

Anakin had been shocked upon landing when he discovered that instead of a Toydarian baby, he was collecting the adopted Togruta son of a pair of Toydarian physicians. They'd been devastated, despite having been the ones to contact the Temple in the first place, and the goodbye had lasted so long that even Padmé was creeping out the door in an effort to finalize their farewell. Now that he'd spent some time with the boy, though, he couldn't blame them. He was kriffing adorable, and well-behaved to boot.

Obi-Wan had once warned him about how dangerous Togruta toddlers were. They were thick with pheromones and notorious cuddlebugs who loved nothing more than to stare adoringly at their caretakers, hypnotizing them into catering to their every whim with their big sad eyes. Taarak certainly had those.

Though the two year old had cried pitifully for his parents until he had passed out from overexhaustion, when he awoke he seemed to have accepted the separation and allowed Anakin to comfort him. They sat in the lounge now at the padded bench surrounding the dejarik table. Padmé had turned it on to amuse him; he was frightened at first, but he'd quickly become fascinated with the tiny figures. He ran his little fingers up and down Anakin's tabards like he was typing on a keyboard as he stared at them, singing a nonsense song to himself and purring just like Ahsoka did when she was content.

He even looked similar to her; his skin was more blood than orange and both his lekku and eyes were a darker blue, but the resemblance was close enough to make Anakin's heart ache. He wished he could have seen Snips as a baby.

"Wanjala?" he asked Taarak with a smile.

The boy looked away from the figures on the dejarik table and nodded, grinning a wide grin that made his dimples pop. He had a blunt chin with a deep cleft that was visible even through the baby fat.

"Ndimatafuna, Taarak, inde?" Anakin popped a nuna nugget from the pile Padmé was busy unpeeling the breading from into his mouth. If Yoda had warned him ahead of time instead of just giving him a name and a pat on the ass to go get him he would have stopped at a butcher first. The nuggets were the only thing they had on board that was animal protein besides Ahsoka's carnivore rations, but Anakin didn't want to feed rations to a baby.

Padmé rested her chin on her folded hands and watched Anakin spit out the chewed-up nuna nugget and feed it to the toddler. "That doesn't seem sanitary," she said mildly, wearing an expression that looked torn between amusement and disgust.

"He doesn't have molars yet," Anakin said defensively, taking another nugget from the pile. "Their parents chew their meat for them for the first three years."

"So you said," Padmé replied, watching Taarak swallow enthusiastically.

Anakin fed him the second chewed nugget. "He also has to have Togruta formula until he's five. It's critical for their hearing development, Togruta breastmilk is very high in collagen and if they don't get enough of it the resonance chamber in their montrals won't develop properly. And we don't want that, Taarak, inde? Nyanga zathanzi, Taarak, inde, inde mwana–"

Padmé threw her head back and laughed, delighted. "Ani, I know you did research for Ahsoka, but my goodness."

"I didn't just do research, Obi-Wan made me take four different trans-xenoparenting modules on Togruta younglings. I'm pretty sure that I am the most qualified person at the Temple to take care of one." He didn't mention it was a direct consequence of almost killing Ahsoka that one time that he forgot to order her carnivore rations and she got enterocolitis from eating the troops' fungus-based nutrition bars. She'd gotten so sick that Kix had to collect a liter of Anakin's blood, mix it with red bacta, and flood her digestive system with it.

He still liked to occasionally pretend to open a vein for her when she complained about being hungry. It made her stripes turn black every time.

"I have to admit, seeing you like this is…" she smiled at him. "Intriguing."

Anakin frowned. "Like what," he asked, trying not to sound too annoyed. "Capable? Knowledgeable?"

Padmé shook her head and gave him a soft look. "Paternal."

Anakin looked at Taarak's montrals instead of his wife with a cold feeling in his stomach. "We agreed we'd talk about it after the war," he said quietly.

Padmé grasped his hand. "I want this with you, but I agree. After the war."

"I just can't bear the thought of you having to go through a pregnancy while I'm on a siege, or, or–" his vision got a little blurry and his eyes stung, " –raising one without me. And that's not even taking into account what you said about your mom–"

"Ani," she tried to interrupt.

" –how she had to use surrogates because the last try almost killed her, and you have the same mutation and I-I… Force, Padmé, if something happened to you because of it I don't know what–"

"Anakin!" she said urgently. "Taarak is getting upset, love. Please take a breath."

Taarak was squirming in his lap and his big eyes were fully porged out. Anakin centered himself in the Force and imagined the feeling of Ahsoka's aura, that calming projection she did so well; soft, silky rain riding a cool desert wind, an alkaline shower that quelled the rising acid in his blood. It worked. Not nearly as well as the real thing, of course, but enough for Anakin to bolster his shields and stop disturbing the baby. "Pepani, Taarak, pepani mwana. Chapino mwana."

Padmé reached for the bag of temperate formula bottles, shook one, and handed it to Taarak. "I didn't mean to upset you, love. I'm sorry."

Anakin huffed. "Let's blame it on the baby pheromones. They're giving us mommy brain, or whatever."

Padmé rested her head on his shoulder and watched Taarak contentedly suck. "After the war, yes, we'll talk about it. But I want this for us. I want a piece of our love to take on a life of its own. And I just know that you're going to be an amazing father, Anakin. Every second I watch you with Taarak proves that."

Anakin closed his eyes, unable to comprehend how it was possible for someone to own his very soul in the way that Padmé did. She knew exactly what to say to make him feel like the most treasured thing in the galaxy. He didn't know what he did to deserve it, but he'd do anything to protect it.

"My lady, I'd be happy to give the two of you a break if you'd like," Dormé called from the base of the ladder that led from the lounge and into the guest bunkrooms.

"That would be a good idea, I think." Padmé held her hands out for Taarak.

Anakin glanced down and met Taarak's giant eyes. He didn't really want to give him up.

"Hey now." Padmé snapped her fingers and giggled. "Don't get hypnotized again."

Anakin sighed, booped Taarak's nose, then handed him over. Padmé walked the suckling toddler down to Dormé and Anakin slumped on the bench, suddenly feeling very cold and unsnuggled.

His wife climbed back up the ladder and promptly took a seat across his lap.

"Oh," he said, blinking, then slipped his hands under her dress and up her thighs.

Padmé giggled and put a finger on his puckered lips. "I was asked to tell you that Obi-Wan has commed now for the eighth time, and is saying he urgently needs to speak to you about Ahsoka."

Anakin sat frozen for a few seconds. "What about Ahsoka?" he asked, trying to sound normal and not like he had guilt and panic writhing together like dying worms in his stomach.

Padmé raised an eyebrow. "That's all I know, love."

He reached around Padmé and brought up the message center on his commlink. He had thirty-six unread messages from Obi-Wan. Reluctantly, he slid out from underneath his wife and started paging through them, full of dread and praying to the Force that it wasn't about what he feared it was.

– [𝟶𝟷:𝟶𝟻:𝟿𝟾𝟶] – [𝟷𝟸𝟺𝟼] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙰𝚑𝚜𝚘𝚔𝚊'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎. [𝟷𝟸𝟻𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟹𝟶𝟸] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟹𝟶𝟾] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟹𝟺𝟷] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. [𝟷𝟻𝟶𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝. [𝟷𝟻𝟹𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟼𝟶𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟼𝟹𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟽𝟶𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> ~~ [𝟷𝟽𝟹𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝙿𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚗. [𝟷𝟽𝟹𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟹𝟶𝟸𝟾𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟶!𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸> 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢. 𝙰𝚑𝚜𝚘𝚔𝚊'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕.

Anakin kept scrolling. Nothing indicated Obi-Wan knew. He exited Obi-Wan's message log and went to Ahsoka's. There was nothing new from her.

– [𝟶𝟷:𝟶𝟻:𝟿𝟾𝟶] – [𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟽] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙾𝙺

Ahsoka's typing dots appeared after a few harrowing seconds.

[𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟾] 𝙹𝙲𝟽𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟻𝟶𝟿!𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙾> 𝙸'𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? [𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟾] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> 𝚆𝙷𝚈 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙱𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙼𝙴 [𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟾] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 [𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟿] 𝙹𝙲𝟽𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟻𝟶𝟿!𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙾> 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. [𝟸𝟶𝟺𝟿] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙴

Anakin's finger hesitated above the straight-line-dot key and the curly-line-dot key, suddenly unsure of which one was for questions.

Padme gingerly reached over the hologram and pressed curly-line-dot.

"Thank you," he said, his cheeks burning.

[𝟸𝟶𝟻𝟶] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> ?

Anakin watched her typing dots linger for a concerning amount of time.

[𝟸𝟶𝟻𝟷] 𝙹𝙲𝟽𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟻𝟶𝟿!𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙾> 𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚖𝚒.

Anakin frowned; was that Huttese? It took him a second to sound it out, but then he huffed a laugh. He'd never seen the saying spelled out in Aurebesh.

"What does that mean?" Padmé asked, squinting at the holographic interface.

[𝟸𝟶𝟻𝟸] 𝙹𝙶𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟺!𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁> 𝙱𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝙾𝙽 [𝟸𝟶𝟻𝟸] 𝙹𝙲𝟽𝟿𝟷𝟿𝟶𝟻𝟶𝟿!𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙾> 𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢 :)

Anakin closed his message center after recieving his response. "She said 'his tail is on backwards' in Huttese," Anakin smirked, then wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "Means he's got his panties in a twist. She's fine, he's just throwing a fit about her giving him the silent treatment. Now, where were we?"

"I think," Padmé began, running her fingers through his hair, "You were about to give me a kiss."

"Sounds about right." Anakin leaned forward but she stopped him again.

"Actually," she breathed, then traced his bottom lip with her thumb. "Let's take this to the– eep!"

Anakin had already lifted Padmé, planted her bare ass on the dejarik table, and thrown her skirt over his head before she could finish her sentence.

"You know you have to name him Robert, right?" Ahsoka joked. She bumped Boba with her hip. They had stayed uncuffed on the ride home and Boba finally seemed at ease, far more than he had been since they'd left the prison. She held his visitor's pass up to Disk and he unlocked the gate for them with an eye-roll.

Boba's aura rippled with the tiniest ribbon of golden humor and he tightened his arms around the rancor plushie. "I was already going to name him Robert," he snapped. "It's not because you said it." His aura went a little yellow with embarrassment.

Ahsoka put her hands up. "Hey, name him whatever you want. I probably picked up on your thought and didn't realize it."

Boba snorted. "You reading my fucking mind, Tano?"

"Only if you think really loudly," she grinned, then stuck her tongue out at him.

He stuck it out right back.

"Alright, we're gonna bunk in the rec room tonight." She took a chance and gave him a pat on the back, which he didn't flinch away from.

"Fine."

"We leave for Tipoca City first thing in the morning."

Boba stumbled and his aura flashed lily-white with panic.

"Boba?" Ahsoka asked.

"Why the fuck are we going there?" Boba snapped. His breathing sped up and she could hear his heart pounding. Why would he be so scared to return to Kamino?

"Kamino is the only place I know of where we might be able to find information on the Cuy'val Dar," Ahsoka answered, frowning. "Is there a reason you don't want to go back?"

Boba looked down, clinging to Robert like a lifeline. "Are you going to make me donate?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

Ahsoka's heart sank. "No. No, Boba, that's not why we're going there." She took another chance and put a hand on his shoulder, projecting soothing green calm-serenity towards him. "I give you my word as a Jedi, the Kaminoans will not take a single hair from your head. Okay?"

Boba bit his lip and nodded. He looked so young in the dim, ambient light of the barracks hall. "They take bone marrow," he mumbled. "That's where the best cells are, Dad said. They'd drill into his hip and he would walk funny for a week."

"Well, they're definitely not going to take that." She patted him on the back instead of hugging him like she desperately wanted to and started walking. "Plo got us a Consular cruiser, but it's halfway through a module conversion so half of the bunks were taken out for dual laser cannons. We'll have to double up."

Boba's lip twitched. "Great, I gotta listen to your snoring the whole way there?"

She laughed, relieved that he hadn't shut down. "I don't snore, but even if I did it would be better than listening to Plo all night. He whistles if his mask slips down."

They reached the rec room and Boba plopped himself on the couch. Ahsoka stayed standing and crossed her arms. Logically she knew that she shouldn't leave him there alone, but she felt oddly certain that he'd still be there when she returned. It was the same certainty that she'd felt in the diner right before she uncuffed him. "I've got to get some stuff together. Are you going to stay put, or do I have to lock the door?"

Boba stretched out like a cat, his bruised patches making him look like a calico. He waved a dismissive hand at her and crossed his legs at the ankle. "I'm too tired to run."

"I'll be right back with some pajamas for you, then." She winked at him. "And I'll grab some pillows and sheets. We can make a fort and have a proper sleepover."

Boba stilled. His aura hardened and lost the tint of green that was so faint that Ahsoka hadn't even noticed it until it was gone.

"What's the matter?" she asked, furrowing her brow. His aura was going staticky with anxiety around the edges.

"Nothing. I-I just didn't realize that Jedi did that." Boba shrugged. "I don't give a fuck. Fine by me. I haven't gotten laid in a minute."

Ahsoka stared at him, sure that she hadn't heard him right. She rubbed her montrals and shook her head to make sure. "What?"

"What's wrong, tailhead, is it your first time?" he sneered. He hopped to his feet and swayed toward her, full of false bravado and his aura a staticky thunderstorm of flashing green disappointment and gray anxiety and yellow embarrassment and underneath it all, a familiar shade of bruise-dark violet sadness-guilt.

She stood still, warily watching Boba approach with her brow raised until he was close enough for her to smell his breath. There was no way he meant what he'd just said to sound that suggestive. He was just hopped up on sugar from dinner or something, he couldn't possibly be propositioning her.

She believed it up until he grabbed her by the lekku and yanked her down into a sloppy kiss, all clumsy tongue and teeth. She squealed and shoved him back, spitting and sputtering in panic and revulsion. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shrieked, wiping her hand across her now-wet mouth.

"You just said you wanted a sleepover!" he barked, quickly backing up with an aura cringing in on itself with neon orange-yellow mortification-anger. "Make your fucking mind up!"

Ahsoka's jaw dropped to her chest. "What part of sleepover said 'shove your tongue in my mouth?' "

"The sleepover part, you stupid cunt!" Boba shouted back. "The fuck do you think a sleepover is?"

"What do you think it is?"

"It means you want to fuck!"

"No it doesn't!" She was going to be sick. Boba was twelve, he was twelve. "Who told you that?"

Something switched off in his eyes. The bravado drained out and left him looking smaller than ever. The backs of his knees hit the couch and he curled up on it in a ball, hugging Robert the Rancor. "Aurra," he mumbled. His aura was dripping yellow with humiliation.

"That's… that's not what it means," Ahsoka choked. "It just means that you sleep in a place that you normally wouldn't, with a friend. Just sleeping. L-Like a slumber party."

Boba tucked himself deeper into the sofa and stared at Robert. His aura was drawn so close to his skin that she could barely see it, but the humiliation and hurt she saw there cracked her heart like an eggshell.

"I'll be right back. Just– just stay here. I'll be back." She paused. "I'm not mad. It was a misunderstanding, okay? Please don't run away."

He nodded without looking at her.

"I'll just be a few minutes," she said, backing out. "I'll be right back." She activated the door panel and hesitated with her finger over the lock; it was unintentional but she had just hurt him deeply, and she no longer had the certainty of a few minutes ago that he would stay.

"I'm trusting you, kiddo," Ahsoka muttered to herself, then walked away with her hands balled into fists. She wasn't going to lock him in. Boba would stay put on his own. He wasn't going to run, he was going to stay with her and his brothers where they could protect him.

Her blood was boiling. Aurra Sing was a monster, a demagolka, sgudal fhaighean, hule lopusa, a demonic, piece of shit nonce–

"Bad time?" Cody joined her power walk to the bunkrooms, his aura bright orange and blurry around the edges. He was visibly tipsy and he stumbled a little trying to keep up with her.

"Very," she said, looking him up and down. Cody had only one reason to be waiting for her in the 501st's barracks and she didn't have time for Obi– damn it, Kenobi's banthashit. "I'm guessing that he sent you?"

"No, I'm here on my own." He threw his arm around her shoulder. His breath smelled like tihaar and caf. "You gotta make up with him, 'Soka. He's driving me up the wall with his moping."

"Not my problem." She shrugged his arm off like a big, heavy slug.

He frowned at her. "He apologized, didn't he?"

She snorted. "Yeah. It was very touching and heartfelt. Totally made up for making me go to his funeral."

"At least you got to go," Cody mumbled, his aura flooding with purple grief.

"Why are you even here?" Ahsoka asked, exasperated. "He lied to you too."

"It's called being an adult," he grouched. "Try it sometime."

"Maybe he should try it."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Listen, it was a karked thing he did and we both know it, but you can't hate him forever."

He said it like Obi-Wan had forgotten to show up to her saber demonstration. He had no idea how hard she'd had to cling on to Anakin to keep him tethered to reality and safe from his own grief, how she had to constantly glean off the dark miasma that infected his aura like poisonous black oil.

She had felt like there was something watching him curiously from the shadows, like a patient nexu waiting for its prey to tire and fall from the tree it was hiding in. She refused to leave him, no matter how many times he'd tried to force her out of his quarters. She wouldn't abandon him to that hungry shadow. She'd rip and tear it up with her teeth if she had to, but she would not leave Anakin.

She had the bruise to prove it.

And then Obi-Wan Kenobi had waltzed out of the Royal Palace at Theed wearing the face of his own killer like nothing had changed and it was all a grand ruse that they were in on. Like he hadn't triggered the most terrifying crisis of her life. Like she hadn't spent three days in the darkest hell she'd ever been in, drowning in the icewater of not just Anakin's grief but the grief of every Jedi who knew him.

The only time she'd been able to mourn Obi-Wan were the pitiful few seconds she had been alone before Anakin had shown up, begging the bastard to open his eyes. He'd hid his aura so well from her, blocked their bond, he'd even projected a fake aura as Rako Hardeen in that motel room. That was a skill that he'd learned specifically to fool her, because it had absolutely no other practical application in the entire universe. Nobody else could bloody see it.

Ahsoka stopped in front of the bunkroom door. "How have you forgiven him so easily?" she demanded. "I ate a few of your jerky sticks on the way back from Geonosis and you didn't talk to me for an entire day, but he fakes his death and you're trying to rebuild his burned bridges for him?"

Cody's already pink cheeks flushed puce and his hands found his hips. "I'm a clone, Os'ika. I don't have the luxury of holding a grudge."

She mimicked his pose. "Well, I do."

"Come on. Just talk to him so he stops whining at me about how unreasonable you're being."

"I'm being unreasonable?" Ahsoka asked in disbelief. "Oh that– no, you know what? I'm done, I don't have time for this. I've got more important things to worry about than bandaging the wounded ego of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Goodnight, Cody."

She spun to leave and he grabbed her left arm to stop her, right over where the bruise was deepest. She gasped as pain shot down her arm, and she barely resisted snapping her teeth at Cody like a massiff.

His mouth hardened into a grim line and she realized that he'd done it on purpose. "What happened to your arm?" he asked harshly.

"None of your damn business," she snapped. She spun her arm out of his grip and slapped away the wrist that moved to replace it. "Stop it!"

"Commander Tano!" Cody barked, his aura flaring silver with authority. "I am ordering you to tell me what happened to your arm."

There was no arguing with that tone, even if he was half off his shebs from the tihaar she smelled on his breath. Ahsoka stood at attention, inwardly seething at the gall of him pulling rank on her now of all times. "Training accident, Sir."

"What sort of training?"

"Mechanical ordnance, Sir." It wasn't technically a lie.

"Conducted under who?"

She glared at him. "That's classified, Sir."

"I've got higher clearance than you."

"I cannot release classified information without General Skywalker's permission, Sir."

"So Skywalker knows." Cody's eyes narrowed. "Was it him?"

"I didn't say that, Sir," she snapped.

"Then who?"

"As I said, Sir, that's classified."

Cody's eyes softened and his aura went teal with protection. "Ahsoka, did Skywalker hurt you?" he asked gently. He wasn't asking as her commanding officer, he was asking as her vod. It infuriated her and made her want to cry at the same time.

Why couldn't he just mind his own shabla business? Why did he have to be the concerned big brother now, of all times? "Are you accusing General Skywalker of abusing me, Sir?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound cold so she wouldn't lose her nerve.

Cody stared at her, both of them knowing damn well that he couldn't outright say yes without crossing into insubordination. He blew air slowly out of his nose, his aura humming and glowing neon chartreuse with annoyance-anger at being outmaneuvered. "No, Commander."

Ahsoka nodded and kept her face neutral. "Was there anything else, Sir?"

Cody jerked his head. "You're dismissed," he muttered.

"Goodnight, Cody." She slipped into the bunkroom and closed the door behind her, trying not to grieve the damage she knew that she'd just done to their friendship. It would be nice if everyone would just leave her the hell alone for five minutes and let her take care of Boba instead of obsessing over something they didn't know anything about. He needed to be mothered a lot more than she did.

The bunkroom was virtually empty. The majority of the guys were out carousing at 79's and making the most of their shore leave but Jesse, Kix and Tup were squished into Kix's bunk watching Daiun's Anatomy on her holoprojector. "Hey," she greeted them.

"We're leaving as soon as this episode is over," Jesse said, holding a preemptive finger up. "Calliope's pregnant again."

"And she just did a tracheostomy on herself with a droid scomp. Her speeder crashed after she was stung by a spider and her throat closed up," Kix said in a monotone. "Which is shabla impossible, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't." Ahsoka clapped her hands together. "I need the projector, though. We're sleeping in the rec room tonight."

"We?" Tup blinked at her.

"Yeah, me and Boba. We're in–"

"You and–" Jesse reared up and sent her holoprojector flying. She barely caught it before it hit the floor. "I thought Appo was joking when he said you adopted that little shabuir, Commander." Jesse's aura quickly flooded with red anger.

She took a step back in shock, not expecting another argument immediately after the last one. "Woah, Jess–"

"Tell me you're joking, Commander," Jesse said, his face all scrunched up in anger. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes; not to intimidate her, that wasn't it at all, he was begging her with his eyes to tell him that she wasn't serious.

Her heart sank. She really hadn't thought through any of the consequences of springing Boba, had she? Jesse was fanatically loyal, almost to a fault; of course he was going to hate the boy who attacked a Republic ship and killed hundreds of their brothers in the process. He was a traitor to both the Republic and the vode, and Jesse had no reason to feel sympathy for a traitor.

"I couldn't leave him in there–" she started, but she stopped when Jesse's shoulders sagged and his aura darkened to deep purple with sadness-disappointment. "Jesse, I couldn't!"

"Har'chaak!" Jesse broke away, pressing his palms into his eyes.

Kix and Tup hadn't yet moved from the bed, but their eyes flicked between Ahsoka and Jesse like they were watching a limmie match.

"He's so little, he–"

"I don't care how short he is, he killed three hundred and four of my brothers," Jesse said harshly. "And trust me, he doesn't look at us like his brothers."

"Jesse–"

"No. You're not thinking clearly. All you see is a little boy but he's manipulating you, Commander." Jesse took her hands and squeezed. "He's a killer. He used you to get out of prison, don't make the mistake of thinking that he cares about you even a fraction of how much we do."

"I know he doesn't. That's not why I did it." Ahsoka gave Jesse a pleading look, begging him to understand. She expanded her aura with a gentle, flowing wave of sage-green serenity so he'd calm down a little. "Boba was manipulated by a disgusting, evil dalgaan into doing what she wanted by promising him revenge for Jango. She was evil, Jesse, please believe me." Ahsoka swallowed hard. "I'm not saying he had no agency or was incapable of making different choices, but he's–"

"A killer," Jesse repeated with a growl.

"No– yes, but Aurra Sing, Jesse, she…" Ahsoka bit her lips, hesitating. It was Boba's truth to tell if he wished, not hers, but it would help if Jesse understood just what a hold she'd had on him. "She abused him," Ahsoka said quietly, saying the truth without actually saying it.

Jesse was smart. His face scrunched up even further, his aura went sick-green with disgust, and he looked away.

"He needs you," Ahsoka continued. "All three of you. He needs his brothers, even if he doesn't realize it." She turned to Kix and Tup and gave them a pleading look. "Please, he's barely holding it together." She didn't add that she'd made it worse. "I can see how badly he's hurting. Please, Jess." She laced her fingers with his and squeezed.

Jesse glowered at her. "You know, you're going to try to help the wrong person someday, and they're going to go for your throat." He pulled her into a spine-cracking hug.

Ahsoka relaxed, nearly dizzy with relief, and buried her face in his neck. "Thank you," she said in a muffled voice.

"Yeah, yeah." Jesse pulled back and touched her forehead with his own in a gentle mishmure'cya, then looked over her shoulder at Kix and Tup. "You two are coming, right?"

"I am!" Tup said brightly. "It'll be nice having a cadet around again. I miss being around them on Kamino. I always liked being asked to fill in for rec supervision."

Ahsoka couldn't help but smile. Tup had such a gentle spirit. If he'd been born a Jedi he would have made a natural Crèchemaster. Maybe if the stupid war ever ended he'd have a chance to live a gentle life. She could easily see him teaching younglings.

"He's not staying, Tup," Ahsoka said apologetically. "We're leaving for Kamino tomorrow."

"Wait, really?" His brows went up. "Can we come?"

Ahsoka bit her lip. "Unfortunately, because I'm a Padawan Commander and not a CC, I don't actually have clearance to authorize off-world missions."

"Aww."

Kix started yanking sheets off of random, unoccupied beds.

"That a yes for you then, Sarge?" Ahsoka asked.

Kix shot her a look over his shoulder. "Obviously, Sir."

"Anyone seen Rex?" Ahsoka asked, accepting a pile of pillows from Tup.

"Oh, he's in the commhub. He got called in by General Kenobi."

"You have got to be kidding me." Ahsoka tossed her head back and groaned aloud. "Why won't he just leave me alone?"

"He'd be a shit ba'buir if he did," Kix shrugged.

"He's a shit ba'buir regardless," Ahsoka snipped.

"Alright, alright. One problem at a time." Jesse physically turned her and pushed her towards the bunkroom door, carrying his share of sheets draped over his shoulders like an ancient Onderonian pharaoh. "You can bitch to me about Kenobi later, I promise."

Cody was thankfully gone when she opened the door. She led the boys through the empty barracks at a pace just under a jog, painfully aware that she'd left Boba alone for sixteen minutes, then bumped the door panel open with her hip since her arms were full of pillows.

Robert the Rancor sat abandoned on the couch. Boba was nowhere to be found.

Tup craned his head over her shoulder. "Uh, Commander? Where is he?" he asked, confused.

"Fuck," Ahsoka said faintly.

Boba hadn't realized that water showers were a luxury until he'd left Kamino for good. Sonic showers were easier to install, easier to clean, faster to use, and didn't use up water rations. He wasn't sure if the troopers actually had water rations, but if they did then he'd used up at least half a battalion's worth. He'd been steaming for half an hour.

"Fierfek," Tiarek cursed from around the corner. "You done yet? We're locked down again, which means Ahsoka thinks you ran for it."

Boba's stomach seized up at the Tog's name. He felt so fucking stupid, but she was the one who'd started it. Why'd she have to push? He'd actually been thinking about something besides how much he fucking hated being alive for once, and then the jetii had to go and ruin it because she didn't know what a fucking sleepover was.

Or he was the one who didn't know. It didn't matter now. He looked like an idiot and she pitied him now, and that pissed him off even more. He didn't need some do-gooder's pity. He was a man, damn it! He was a beroya and the only living son of Jango Fett, the greatest bounty hunter that had ever lived. He didn't want the Tog bitch to sit blinking her big, sad eyes at him like he was a pathetic, three-legged street pup covered in fleas.

"No, I've got him, lift the lockdown. We didn't mean to be this long. Go ahead and get started, we'll be there soon." Tiarek was on a holocall with somebody but Boba couldn't hear the other side. "Come on, Bo'ika, time to go."

"In a minute!" Boba yelled back.

"Now." Tiarek turned the shower off and threw a scratchy towel at his face.

"Shabla bev'kovid," Boba mumbled under his breath as he toweled off.

"I heard that."

Boba toweled faster then wrapped himself up when he was done. Tiarek patted him on the back and led him out to the lockers. A set of Kaminoan cadet blues sat waiting for him on the bench.

Boba glared up at Tiarek. "Didn't have any blacks in your size," he smirked at him. "Hurry up. Ahsoka's having a heart attack."

"I don't care," Boba said darkly.

Tiarek looked at him, disappointed. "I do," he said softly.

Boba dropped the towel and reached for the blues. They were too big for him, he could already tell. He knew he was underweight but more importantly, without all of the genetic upgrades from the longnecks, he was just plain smaller than the other clones at the same physical age. Dad was half a head shorter than the grown-up troopers, and Boba was a perfect copy of him.

"What's that?" Tiarek was frowning at him; specifically, his ass.

Boba quickly yanked the oversized drawers up. "Nothing. Don't be bloody nosy." He hadn't meant to let him see the scar.

"Then why are you being cagey about it?" Tiarek asked with a raised brow.

"I sat on my knife, alright? It's embarrassing." Boba slipped his shirt on.

Tiarek leaned against the lockers. "Look, Boba, I know you've been through a lot since Jango died, but–"

Boba flinched at his dad's name.

Tiarek softened. "Just promise me that you're going to try. Nobody expects you to be a model cadet, but at least stop cussing her out every time you open your mouth."

"Fine," Boba mumbled. He tugged at the bottom of his tunic, trying to make it hang less awkwardly on his narrow shoulders.

"You can trust her. I promise you can. She's the best, right alongside Skywalker." Tiarek smiled sadly. "We're not just numbers to them. They truly do care for us. Ahsoka is my vod'ika, do you understand? You trust her just like you trust me."

Boba scoffed. "So much for vode an. You know, the meaning of the word doesn't change just because you use it to bloody adopt each other."

"Of course not." Tiarek blew air out of his nose hard, frustrated. "It just means I watch out for her, I teach her, I keep her alive. And she has my back in return, no matter what."

"Whatever," Boba said, looking away. Tiarek wasn't going to let it go until he agreed. "Fine. I'll stop being a dickhead to her, alright? Doesn't mean I trust her."

"Good man." Tiarek clapped his hand on his shoulder and guided him towards the door. "Let's go."

Boba felt his banzaii burger start to work its way up his throat as they walked back to the rec room. Should he tell Tiarek what he'd done? Boba didn't want him to hate him too, but he wasn't sure what he'd be angrier about; kissing Tano, or lying about it.

"What?" Tiarek was looking at him with those same knowing eyes Dad had when he knew Boba was squirming about something.

"I kind of…" Boba hesitated. "Fuck it. I kissed Tano and she's gonna make it sound like I just made a move on her out of nowhere and–"

"Hold on, hold on!" Tiarek went to one knee so they were eye level. "What are you on about?"

"Tano," Boba mumbled. "I kissed her. I thought she wanted it."

Tiarek was staring at him with his mouth open. "You did what?" he asked sharply.

"She said she was gonna go get pillows to have a proper sleepover, so," Boba shrugged. "Obviously I thought that meant she wanted to fuck. But she didn't know what that's what sleepover really meant because she's a Jedi, I didn't mean to piss her off."

"She… she didn't–" Tiarek stood and turned away, his hands on his head. "Boba, no." He turned, and Boba felt his heart sink into his guts at the look on his face.

"I didn't hurt her! I just kissed her, she didn't want it so I didn't push it–"

"Boba, who told you that a sleepover meant that?" Tiarek's voice was so sad that it made Boba flush, embarrassed all over again.

"Fuck, not you too." Boba turned away with a groan. Why was everyone so damn stupid? Why was he the only fucker under the roof who knew Basic? "Sleepover is when you want someone to sleep in your bunk, it's not a fucking slumber party like she thinks. Aurra told me what it meant when some asshole asked me in a bar on Nar Shaddaa–"

Tiarek sighed and huffed out a relieved laugh for some reason.

" –and then, you know, I started having sleepovers with her–"

Tiarek's face fell and he turned away with his fists balled up.

"Oh not you too, why is everyone such a damn prude?" Boba moaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm a year away from doing my verd'goten, I'm not a fucking baby."

Tiarek turned and he almost scared Boba with how angry he looked. "Listen to me," he said, going back down on one knee. "People might say sleepover to be cute, but that's not what it means. And if Dad knew that Aurra had done that to you he would have taken her skin off slowly, do you understand?" Tiarek grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. "She never should have been allowed within a mile of you."

Boba bit his lip. "You called him Dad," he said quietly. "You haven't called him that in a long time."

"I meant to say your dad." Tiarek flushed and looked away. "Not… I know, trust me."

Boba looked up. "Don't you remember–"

"There's nothing to remember," Tiarek said quickly. "It was just a few weeks, Bo'ika, okay? Don't get it mixed up again. We've been through this."

Yeah, they had, and every time Tiarek was more and more certain that whatever lie he'd been fed by Kal while he was recovering was the truth. "So I'm old enough to wet my blade, but not my dick?" he asked crudely, changing the subject.

Tiarek turned purple. "Yes," he growled.

Boba waved a dismissive hand at him. "Whatever you say, Tiarek."

"Come on." Tiarek stood. "And I told you to stop calling me Tiarek. That was never my name."

Boba resisted the urge to argue. It was pointless. If any part of Tiarek remembered, it was buried so deep down under the lies that it may as well have never existed at all.

"Now behave," Tiarek warned him, then opened the rec room door. Three unarmed clones sat lounging in their blacks inside a pile of pillows, couch cushions and sheets that had been built up into a tent. One of them was the medic that had rubbed that stink-ass bacta gel on him. Tano sat on the edge, cross-legged and pinch-faced. As soon as the door slid open she popped to her feet and rushed to Tiarek.

"Gar ru'hibii ner ad? Ne'din'kartay?" she snapped. "Rex, do you have any idea how scared I was to find him gone again?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was–"

"Gar johaar'i Mando'a?" Boba interrupted, stunned.

She raised a brow marking. "Waad'choruk," she said wryly. "Rex taught me."

Boba flushed and looked down. He should have expected that, if Rex had adopted her as a little sister.

"As I was saying, Boba here needed a shower, but I didn't know he was going to use half of the monthly ration for the whole GAR." Tiarek popped him gently in the shoulder.

Tano's shoulders slumped and she took a deep breath. "I'm sure he was just happy to take a water shower. I know the prison only has sonics." She bent down and looked him in the eye. "So. Ready for bed?"

Boba peered around her to look at the troopers reclining in her pillow fort. The one with the Galactic Roundel tattooed on his face looked unimpressed, the medic looked bored, but the final one with a tear on his cheek sitting cross-legged was practically beaming at him through his long hair.

"Why're they here?" Boba asked suspiciously.

"Well, since you've never had a real sleepover, I thought it might be fun to have one. And for a real sleepover you need friends, but you also need a pillow fort–" she turned and gestured to the limp tent, " –holofilms, and snacks." She held up a projector in one hand and a bag of nerf rinds in the other, smiling like an idiot.

Boba looked up at Tiarek, who shrugged. "Fine," Boba said dismissively.

"Great!" Tano dove into the tent between the long-haired one and the one who looked like he'd just bit into an unripe meiloorun. "I've already got the holo loaded. Get the lights, Rex."

Boba glanced at Tiarek, who did as he was told with a soft smile for Tano.

"By the way this is Jesse, Kix, and Tup," she added, pointing to each clone as he and Tiarek crawled inside the pillow fort. She and the three troopers were already squished together, cuddling like sleepwalking tubies. Tiarek stayed on the outside and Boba ended up sandwiched between him and the medic, Kix.

"Wizard," Boba said in a bored voice. "What are we watching?"

"March of the Porgs," Tano said cheerily.

"Finally!" Tup crowed.

"What do you mean finally? We just watched that on the way home from shabla Naboo," Jesse grumbled.

"Language," Tiarek drawled.

Boba snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously." Tiarek chuckled and pushed Boba's head down to his chest.

"Wait, Commander, you're sleeping over here?" Tup asked, looking confused. "You always sleep with Rex."

Boba froze. Wait, had he kissed Tiarek's girl? Why hadn't he shabla said that, why'd he go through the vod'ika banthashit instead of just saying he was screwing her? And where did Tiarek get off telling Boba that he was too young for it if he was shagging his own al'verde? Boba was older than all of them, except for Tano.

"Not tonight," Tano said nonchalantly. "Oh, by the way, Boba, you forgot somebody." Tano tossed Robert the Rancor at him over Kix, then started the projector.

Boba cleared his throat. "Thanks." He hugged Robert to his chest and adjusted a little so that he could fit the plushie in between him and Tiarek, hiding a small smile.

"There is a mysterious ritual that dates back thousands of years. No living creature has survived it, except the porg. They have wings but can barely fly. They're birds without beaks that act like clowns. And every year, they embark on a nearly impossible journey to find a mate. For twenty days and twenty nights, the porg will march…"

Notes:

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS ba'buir: grandfather Os'ika: Little shit (Cody's [affectionate!] nickname for Ahsoka, a pun on her normal diminutive of Ahs'ika [Little Ahsoka] ) dalgaan: bitch Har'chaak: damn it mishmure'cya: brain kiss, aka keldabe kiss shabla bev'kovid: fucking dickhead Gar ru'hibii ner ad? Ne'din'kartay?: You took my kid? Without telling me (lit. no sitrep)? Waad'choruk: Obviously (lit. diamond, colloquialism for "crystal clear") Al'verde: Commander TOYDARIAN TRANSLATIONS Wanjala?: Hungry? Ndimatafuna: I chew it Inde: Yes Nyanga zathanzi: Healthy horns Mwana: Baby Pepani: Sorry Chapino mwana: Okay baby Hule lopusa: stupid bitch HUTTESE TRANSLATIONS Chupanka keepa manmi: His tail is on backwards (Huttese colloquialism for someone acting irrationally) MAOR-GRÁSTA TRANSLATIONS sgudal fhaighean: garbage cunt OTHER NOTES I just really like it when Anakin speaks Toydarian okay. Also I mentioned this in another fic but he didn't learn Aurebesh until he was ten and he hates it so he types in all caps and doesn't like punctuation Yes, Boba refers to Rex as Tiarek in his head. We'll find out why just hang in there lol

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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