#beard and no beard options cause i have opinions

[violet-moonstone]

THW Rewrite

More headcannons because I have not been able to stop thinking about this franchise for the past 13 years, and I have over a decade's worth of opinions.

I've already posted some of these ideas but ehh it's fine.

While I enjoyed watching it for the first time, THW was disappointing to me for a variety of reasons. (The music was probably the best out the franchise though, I'll say that) Grimmel didn't reach his full villain potential since the writers used Ruffnut's lack of judgment as his key to success instead of him being a capable strategist. (Also they did my girl so dirty. She may be a dumbass, but she's not an idiot!) I don't like that the dragons left after just 6 years. I don't like that all the riders except for Hiccup and Astrid are just played for laughs instead of shining like they do in RTTE. I don't like whatever the hell Snotlout's obsession with Valka was, and I didn't like Toothless' "romance" with the Light Fury. I hate that even dragons can't escape half-developed romance and a nuclear family as the ultimate character accomplishment.

So here are my edits (looking back, there's quite a bit going on, so it may need to be split into 2 movies or a short TV series)

The time jump happens between movies 2 and 3. (I want a full movie with bearded Hiccup and "Homecoming" does NOT count) 10-15 years have passed, so the riders are about 30-35. Zephyr and Nuffink are either little kids or preteens and are getting to an age where they're starting to train dragons.

Astrid is more rough around the edges like she was in HTTYD 1 and Rob/Dob/RTTE, not just Hiccup's supportive gf/wife. Instead of making her softer, motherhood has made her fiercer because she has more people to protect. Hiccup on the other hand is a doting father and can't say no to the kids if they give him puppy dog eyes: heart melted every time.

Toothless finds his original flock(?)/herd?/murder?/unkindness?/parliament? of Night Furies instead of just one "soulmate". Each can have their own personalities and roles in the group while Toothless is the baby. I think it would be interesting if, like Hiccup, Toothless was quite small compared to his peers - potentially explaining why he was on his own and got separated from the group before meeting Hiccup.

Dagur and Heather are brought into a council meeting as Berserker allies. Hiccup greets them in a way that clarifies things for audience members who haven't watched the show. I suppose Mala would also be in it too. I don't dislike Mala but I hate her and Dagur's relationship. More development needed there.

Gustav should be there too, still very much trying to prove himself as a dragon rider and occasionally messing things up.

In terms of the main plot and villains, I'm not too picky, although I've said before that I'm tired of dragon mind-control being the main villain tool. I'm fine with it if Drago comes back as the villain, but if not, the villain should just be dragon hunters or rival dragon riders who use their dragons for conquering/raiding other settlements.

It can hit pretty much hit the same story beats as before but with better character dynamics.

Make Ruff and Tuff more instrumental to mischief and redirection in a way that helps the plot.

Give Fishlegs more credit for his discoveries and record-keeping about dragons.

Snotlout and Eret are together (or implied to be together if that's the best we can get). Snotlout is also no longer Hiccup's rival - he should be his second in command. They can disagree from time to time, but ultimately, his loyalty is not in question.

Fishlegs and Ruffnut have kids who cause chaos with Zephyr and Nuffink.

It would be cool to include a couple characters from other parts of the world with dragon mythology. I understand that Vikings are white but if we have goddamn flying dragons, there's no reason there can't be visitors from other cultures (who aren't villains).

Ending option 1: The movie can end with the dragons going away, but now they've been with the Berkians for over a decade and it just feels more impactful.

The "there were dragons when I was a boy" line can either be Hiccup talking to his grandson after an even longer time jump, or Nuffink talking to his own kids about Hiccup's adventures.

Ending 2: the Berkians go to The Hidden World with the dragons. Hiccup writes a memoir to leave behind. We hear him reading from it at the beginning and assume that means dragons are going to leave, but it's actually a diversion to make people think dragons are gone so no one tries to look for them.

Ending 3: We accept that HTYYD takes place in a different world so we don't have to explain why dragons don't live among us anymore. The movie ends with Hiccup vowing to make the archipelago safe for all dragons and Nuffink and Zephyr take up the mantle of discovering new dragons. The dragons stay and they all live happily ever after, the end :)

I'm tempted to actually write this as a fanfiction but I already got a lot of writing projects atm. We shall see.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #race to the edge #rtte #httyd headcanon #riders of berk #defenders of berk #dreamworks dragons #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #the hidden world #thw #httyd the hidden world #httyd thd #hiccup httyd #hiccup haddock #eretlout #violet-moongem #httyd-fanfiction #thw rewrite

[pussyistheforbiddenfruit]

There is no such thing as a nongoldstar lesbians. Nongoldstar lesbians are homophobic bisexual women which is why they have a festering hatred for goldstar lesbians aka female homosexuals.. because goldstar lesbians are proof that all their dumb excuses are bullshit lies, that it is actually easy for a lesbian woman to not fuck a man.. because it’s not in her nature to.

Almost all of their arguments are based off of lies, such as that nasty anon who used rape victims. No goldstar mentions rape victims, everyone knows rape is nonconsensual. The thing is however if you consented to sex with a man, you’re not a lesbian. Lesbians are completely incapable of consenting to sex with a man because it goes against their homosexual nature. This isn’t about rape, forced prostitution, lesbians living in hyperconservative places where they have absolutely no option. Lesbians using beards to avoid being disowned by their families. Nongoldstar “lesbians” know this but they’re manipulative homophobic bisexual women who use these womens stories to explain away their obvious male attraction. My opinion is that lesbians allowing bisexual women aka “nongoldstars” to colonise their own sexuality & space has done insane amounts of damage to lesbianism itself. Before transwomen preyed on lesbians with “girl cock” and “transbian” bisexual women preyed on lesbians first with their nongoldstar garbage, both transwomen & bisexual women hate “goldstars” because they’re both predatory homophobes. U should ask urself why it’s ONLY lesbianism the only sexuality that doesn’t centre men, that has been split into two parts, the lesbians & the “lesbians” with a MALE history.

Yep lesbians are too spinless and allowed bisexuals and trans ppl to conquer our sexuality its fucking sucks.

I already explained my opinion about non-goldstars, alot of them are bi thats obvious however i also believe their could be an exception for that one who had sex with a male in highschool i know i said some but alot of women are weak minded and doormats tbh 🤦🏽‍♀️ especially when she is young she probably pushes her disgust to the side and felt traumatized by it.

Of course its not in our nature to do so, then we wouldn't be lesbians lol. Another reason they hate us cause of that internalize disgust, inferiority complex and victim mindset they got..maybe even guilt too but idk about that especially they way so freely and happily roleplay as us lol.

Of course both of them would hate goldstars, bi women are male adjecent and transwoMEN are well men 😂. No shocker there but bi women its absolutely disgusts me i dont expect better from men but i have exceptions for women.

I agree alot of them are predatory and male minded, they view their same sex attraction the same way men do, they use and objectify lesbians, feel entitled to our pussies, its fucking disgusting and now they want our word too.

Then wanna cry and play victim when we wont date (fuck) them 🙄

All of this trans shit could be avoided if lesbains grow a pair and fight back, like fr stop the fucking asskissing and validation seeking omfg its pisses me off, lesbians are the reason there spaces are being ruined in the western world, stop being whiny little bitches and fight DAMN, its so annoying, i dont even care about the trans bullshit anymore because its so stupid and could easily be solved and its also cause i dont live in a country where that affects me directly so i dont feel like its my place to talk about these things 😅

But i also kind of disagree with your last sentence there its not only lesbians who have those two things too, gay men have them you see "gay" men getting married and making women pregnant too, they put them in the forefront of homosexuality too alongside with "lesbians" who fuck males. Ppl hate homosexuality period. but ofc lesbians more cause as we dont worship males and dick like good women are suppose to do.

Ppl also take gay men seriously too, gay men dont have to worry about their "reputation" being ruined they can fuck and get women pregnant ppl still believe they're gay, but lesbians we are on "thin ice", ppl dont wanna take us seriously and will use any excuse not to.

Which is why they LOVVEE non-goldstars and sneakdickers they prove them right that the only way to know if u like women is through males and they must serectly like dudes still.

Honestly i dont care what male worshippers and males say about us anymore who gives a fuck if they dont take lesbians seriously? Its not like lesbians going to go extinct or disappear cause they dont believe us im tired of talking to a bunch of brick walls about this obvious shit.

Even though i know now its a different type of erasure instead of pretending that we dont exist they are invading our space and stealing our words, welp if lesbians dont fight back i guess they gotta say bye bye to their spaces and their words. Me though? I couldnt care anymore I know i will forever be attracted to only women even if the word didnt exist or is being used incorrectly now.

[enchi-elm]

Shaving in the U.S. Military

This was an amazing rabbit-hole to fall into.

Having no visible facial hair of my own and not serving in the military (not being American, besides) means I have no context for the scene I am getting ready to write and so I did what any seasoned fic writer would do, which is procrastinate with 45 minutes of research.

Starting with a Youtube search "shaving in the continental army", because you can always find the best tangents pinging away from your actual question when you search on Youtube. And man! There's so many opinions and experiences with shaving!

I started with this:

Haha, I thought. And then, what's a shaving profile?

A shaving profile, I learned, is a shaving waiver, a paper that permits you to grow a "therapeutic beard" to treat, among other things, a skin condition called pseudofolliculitis barbae (PFB), or razor bumps, which can present as anything from uncomfortable to painful and bleeding. A shaving profile can also be issued for religious reasons. When this was first instituted, the hair length of the shaving profile beard could not exceed one quarter of an inch.

Oh, so men have also realized that frequent shaving is hell on your skin, I thought, with some snark. Sucks when your social capital depends on it, doesn't it?

Or your career. Because, in fact, for people in the military, it does.

From a study reported on in 2012, 21% of air force respondents reported that their career had been negatively impacted by having a shaving profile, read, wearing a beard. And of these respondents who reported a perceived shaving profile bias, 63% identified as Black, 14% as Hispanic and 5% as Latino. PFB is most commonly found in Black men.

How strong is this stigma? Oooh, strong.

It's often couched in "concerns" surrounding looking uniform to the group, being able to follow orders, and -- failing all that -- having a tight gas mask seal. But as you can see in this funny video, the tone behind those "concerns" is anything but friendly, and it's costing these soldiers leadership opportunities and awards.

Man, these comments are fascinating.

Alright, noted, I thought. So what does that mean for the 18th Century?

Well, as it turns out, the style has changed a lot in the course of military history. All soldiers were expected to look sharp, but more important in the 18th Century was being clean. Shaving or hair cuts isn't mentioned at all in Baron von Steuben's famous Blue Book but washing frequently is. It's only through the article below that I learned that soldiers in the Continental Army had to shave three times a week, though their facial hair seems to have caused less issue than their head hair.

Shaving yourself is one thing, but there were few options for competently managing your hair, so most men wore their hair long. Those who plaited into a queue did so with flour and animal fat, while cavalrymen put their hair in a club at the base of their neck (which was just a more horse-riding resistant hairstyle).

(Thinking back now, of course, I don't think I've ever seen an 18th C portrait of a man wearing a queue and sporting facial hair (...anyone?). And certainly in TURN the tv show no one has a beard, but that's a modern show catering to modern audiences. I can just imagine the uproar there'd be if anyone other than Caleb Brewster sported prominent facial hair. And certainly we all know how Brewster's beard informs his characterization.)

In 1801, the beloved queue was officially abolished in the U.S. military and it caused an uproar among the enlisted that nearly reached mutiny. From that to the famously bushy moustaches and mutton chops in the Civil War to the long hair, trimmed moustaches, and long side burns of the 1960s and 1970s that the Navy and Coast Guard to my complete shock permitted among their ranks, hair has been a contentious issue, waxing and waning in style ever since the military's inception in the States.

So there you go!

As a final thought, because I am a fic writer with a preference for the Tallster pairing, I shall leave you with one of my favourite Tallster fics, written by the wonderful @lucyemers.

It is, of course, about shaving.

Guess I should go write that scene, now.

#history things #18th Century #20th Century #19th Century #21st Century #American Revolution #shaving #tallster #fic recs #caleb brewster #Youtube

[danseinthefallout]

Alright here are some of my fallout hot takes:

Deacon x MacCready is weird/gross, not founded in canon, and borderline pedophilic if you think about the most likely age difference and how a lot of people headcanon Deacon as the lone wanderer.

People being into Kent the ghoul weirds me out because of how child-like he is. Same goes for Curie, she’s literally born sexy yesterday and has the basic social knowledge of a child. It’s really messed up to try to romance her and her dialogue even shows how confused and somewhat uncomfortable she is. 

People being super into Maxson feels the same to me as people being super into Vulpes. They are both pretty unattractive, openly and horrifically fascist/violent bigots/genocidal/literally pure evil, and being very into them is weird when there are so many other non-horrific options to choose from.

On that note, in anyway liking the Legion and the people in it is so fucked up like actually why.

DiMA is the literal worst and we just forgive it because he is some pretty clear queer representation. 

MacCready in fallout 4 is written VERY poorly.

Porter Gage is pretty damn evil and while I don’t begrudge people for liking him I feel like a lot of people forget that he isn’t a good or normal person.

Piper is actually a really well written and well developed character and just because one of her articles was not written well in game does not mean that she is a bad reporter. She’s a very underrated character in the fandom.

I have a bunch of other opinions that are not very popular but here are the most spicy ones. 

I’ll be responding to each one best as I can, if I agree, disagree or in the middle of it. These takes are really interesting and should be talked about more in my eyes. And I also ask what you guys think on each take. Do you agree, disagree or in the middle of it?

Personally, I haven’t seen much relating to the ship of Deacon and Mac in a romantic way. (I have seen more friendship and dynamic duo stuff) I can understand it’s a bit weird considering that Mac is (I believe) 22 in the timeline of Fallout 4. Considering we don’t know of Deacon’s real age (I believe he might be in his late 20’s early 30’s if we ignore the headcanon of him being the lone wander) we’re unsure of the real age gap between the two. So I don’t super agree that the ship in a romantic light could be considered pedophilic as they are both adults in Fallout 4 HOWEVER if we consider the headcanon of Deacon being the Lone Warner, I can understand where you’re coming from as the two met when Mac was 12 (making Deacon 19 and thus 29 in Fallout 4) But I also the ask the question, would it be a similar situation if the Sole Survive romances, Mac, as it appears that Sole is at least in their 30’s? 

I agree with this for the most part! I never really though about people being attracted to Kent like that as I he’s not a big part of my playing experiences. With Curie, I always found it weird when flirting with her for the first time as she has no idea what’s really going on as she is a literal roboto before. She seems more of child when comes to the real world. And also I find the romatic/flirting interactions with Curie kind of… cringe to say the least.

I understand this as I personally hate Maxson and how he thinks and speaks, but I can get inside of someone who loves a good villain. I’m not too familiar with Vulpes so I can’t say too much. If Maxon wasn’t a complet asshole towrads synths and ghoul and LITERALLY MAKES SOLE TO KILL DANSE CAUSE OF IT, and he was more sympathic, I think he’d be more attractive. I get that people can be attractive to villains, but… Maxon? Like I don’t care how great of a coat and beard you got bro, you’re a little shit head. I think people just ignore all of that when they simp for him.

I personally haven’t played New Vegas in so long, so I can’t say much about it.

This one, I disagree on, but can understand why this can be the case. DiMA, I believe is genuinely symathic to what he has done and actuall cares about causing peace for his people as well as everyone in Far Harbor. Personally, I am a DiMA lover so I might be bias on this front, but I do think he is a good person with a bad past and I do agree that some of the things he has done are a little shady, but overall I think he wants peace and the best for Far Harbor. Also side note, I’ll only play the main quest of Far Harbor with Nick Valintine.

I agree, and it sucks as he is a reacurring character from Fallout 3, I wish we could expand on his relation with his wife and son, maybe even meeting his son in the game after his quest line. This goes with a lot of characters in Fallout 4 and that is my biggest issue with the game. There are so much amazing things they could have done. 

I think the reason for why people like him is why some like Maxson, they like a good villain. Personally I like Gage more then Maxon as he’s fun to run away with and not as annoying then Maxon is to me.

I don’t run around much with Piper, but what I have seen feels like a real person to me. She has a lot of personality to her and her backstory seems well rounded, but I do think their is some things that I wish was expanded on with her character, and this can just me be, like her relationship with her sister. I for sure think the fandom needs to give Piper more love.

Anyways, that is my response to each hot take! Send it your and I’ll tell you my thoughts on them <3

#paladin danse #danse #brotherhood of steal #bos #elder maxon #elder maxson #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 3 #deacon #rj maccready #maccready #dima #nick valentine #piper wright #porter gage #curie #john hancock #maxon #brotherhood of steel #fallout new vegas #hot takes #ask #asks

[tom--22--felton]

In my honest opinion and not trying to be mean to Tom or anyone but I feel like the reason he stays with r and hasn't pursued other options when it comes to dating other celebrities or influencers is because these last few years his name has been tossed around in a bad way. With all this transphob and jkr bs I feel like no one really wants to be involved in all of that. And a girl like r she doesn't have anything to lose if she gets hated on by fans. She's not a celebrity in any kind of way. So I feel like Toms playing it safe by staying with her and low-key seeing and speaking to other girls on the side. I feel like when some people get older and they realize oh I'm not married or I don't have kids and my family has all that people start to panic and have a safety net to fall back on. So I don't think she's a beard I think she's a safety net. Cause it is scary thinking you might be alone forever. For some of course they are fine with being alone but for people like Tom who has spent his whole life surrounded by family and friends im sure the thought of not finding love when you're older is scary. For me I like being alone but I do still want friendships and family around. A relationship is not really my thing I feel like it's too much for me to handle but some people do stay in relationships to avoid being alone. And this applies to a lot of people out there not just to Tom.

I know this kind of people you are talking about and i agree there are a lot of them. If Tom is one of them or not, that we can't be sure of though.

I also don't agree that noone from showbiz wants to be associated with him. I think it's Tom who doesn't want to be with someone from that circle. It seems he prefers the girls to be dependant on him, to always be around etc.

Anyway the bottom line is that no matter what his reasons are, he chose to be with her. And if people can't accept his choice, then it's easier to pretend she doesn't exist at all :))

#anonymous ask t22f #seahorse drama t22f #soap opera t22f

[twelvedaysinaugust]

Mod, you use the word 'worry' a lot. What worries you about a scenario where Harry and Louis weren't/aren't together, where they're both in relationships with women (regardless of how they privately identify)?

I guess I look at all this and I think, what is the drama if people are wrong? I've never understood why people seem to care so much about these two men! It won't affect them if all these receipts are wrong. They are living their lives.

To me, they are entirely capable of being who they want to be, need to be, in private, without any support from fans, and they've both said as much (in different ways). So it makes me think this isn't about them at all.

Are you more worried about your own identity as part of a fan group, or are you worried about them? It's a genuine question, not snarky!

Hm. That's a good question. I guess there are three main causes for my worry.

Firstly, the fans. My honest observation is that a lot of Larries are young queer kids who relate to the narrative and find community and clarity about their own identities through it. The LGBTQ+ presence during OTRA and now at Louis' shows is proof of that. If Larry wasn't real, there are plenty of other true stories of queer resilience that arguably would have been a better outlet. However, if Larry served a purpose then maybe it doesn't matter whether it was true or not.

Secondly, Harry and Louis' public partners. Even though not all Larries actively harass the women H/L date, virtually all Larries believe those women are "stunts" and "beards" and don't have a high opinion of them. Regardless of whether Larry was real or not, I feel badly about the way it's affected H/L's public partners. And if some or all of those relationships were genuine, then I feel badly that those women were viewed as something they are not. (And don't even get me started on Freddie.)

Thirdly and most importantly: If Larry wasn't real, then Harry, Louis, and everyone around them have baited fans mercilessly (and continue to do so). I fully acknowledge that some (maybe a lot) of Larry "proof" and "signals" are likely coincidence or misinterpretation. But from the Mario Kart interview, to the lyric changes onstage, to the bears, to songs like "Something Great" and "Habit," to whatever the heck is happening during LTWT, Harry and Louis have fed Larry for years. And if it wasn't real (or it was short-lived), that's dishonest. And it's a lie that Harry and Louis continue to profit from. It costs them in other ways, but Larries are very engaged fans and they spend a lot of money - that cannot be overlooked. Furthermore, this lie takes advantage of queer fans and feeds them a false narrative (and this is true even if Harry and/or Louis are queer, but not currently together). And it's a lie that has ramifications for Harry and Louis' partners and families.

I guess that's what worries me most - the fact that Harry and Louis continue to play into Larry. It's either real, or it's baiting, or it's a little bit of both. And all of those options make me uncomfortable at this point. I mean, if Louis is expecting Eleanor to play the part of his public girlfriend, then he should play the part of her boyfriend, no? For the entire time they've been together, she's always been respectful of him and never given anyone a reason to question the "realness" of the relationship. And then Louis is out there pointing to Larry signs. Whichever way you slice it, I feel like someone is getting used and misled.

And in 2022, I just don't think the Larrie narrative is entirely correct. It's clear (to me) that we misinterpreted something - maybe a lot. And that worries me, too. From a personal standpoint, I don't know how to address that uncertainty on this blog. And more broadly, it brings me back to the question of baiting and what that means for queer fans. I don't understand why so many Larries are unwilling to reevaluate some of their beliefs. Likewise, I don't understand why Harry and Louis would feed the Larrie narrative as it currently stands (especially if Louis thinks it's disrespectful to his son). I just think there are very real consequences associated with being wrong. But I also don't really know what's "right" anymore, either.

On some level, the way to make sense of all of this would be to say, "Harry and Louis actually aren't feeding Larry." But I could never, ever get behind that idea. Not completely. If nothing else, what I witnessed at Louis' two LA shows proved to me that he's playing around with Larry in more ways than one.

[let-me-iiiiiiiin]

alright, hang on, this might actually be good????

cringe-worthy dialogue aside I can actually see potential in the new expansion. I checked out a more detailed review of the new features. let's go.

Female Dwarves have BEARDS now

Not gonna lie, this is when I realized things may not be so dire. If they hadn't cared at all, they would have just reskinned the dwarves. But they're doing much more than that!! Actual BEARDS for FEMALE DWARVES!!!! I think this really shows that they are not just going to make another cash-grab. Upon closer look I also really like how the crystals look like. It may even make up for the boring faces!!

2. Delves

Honestly at first I thought they were referring to the dwarf-elf hybrids, but then I realized no, they are talking about CAVERN DELVES. As in, DELVING. Slight disappointment, but not too much, because I did honestly enjoy the adventures in the Zaralek cavern. I think more of that might be nice.

3. Universal Dynamic Flight

YES. THANK YOU. I'VE BEEN WANTING THAT. I'VE BEEN WANTING THAT SO MUCH. The option to toggle between the two is also extremely good, especially from an accessibility standpoint.

4. The everything else

Honestly, the features don't look half-bad. I think they might be working with good intentions here, because I can't really see anything wrong with them. They don't really clash with existing features, and they aren't really super flashy, and they don't seem to be clunky. Still unsure about hero talents (because lmao they are really adding sub-classes to sub classes) but let's see how they handle it before roasting the hell out of it.

Now, for the story. (I'm not looking forward to this, but here we go.)

"we witness thrall and anduin having a moment"

*spits water* having a WHAT??

2. Anduin's angst

I do make fun of the cinematic for its dialogue decisions but I am glad that they are not glossing over anduin's gruelling experiences. he is so young but he has been through literal hell, unwillingly and then willingly. It takes time to get acclimatized to (relatively) peaceful existence.

On the OTHER side of this scale, I do dread how they are going to handle this. I read (and write) fanfiction, so I am aware of the many ways fans have written about their favorite characters getting and healing from trauma. Sometimes, it ends up becoming very melodramatic. With how dragonflight was handled, I do hope they will be able to keep this from becoming something of a gag. The chances of anduin's angst becoming pure senseless whump are low, but never zero. Unfortunately.

3. Alleria Windrunner "unique rivalry" with Xalatath

Just say toxic lesbian yuri. We all know what's going to happen. You cannot trick experienced homoerotic subtext readers. "being torn between her own nature and the maddening call of the Void to which she is attuned" that is an INCREDIBLY lesbian description, are you AWARE OF THAT???? A "unique rivalry" whose "twists and turns will come to define the nature of this new conflict", just say it's enemies-to-lovers okay???? love wins. hate also wins cause toxic yuri. Also, her story description has the LONGEST paragraph among the listed NPCs. That alone proves it.

Seriously, just look at what they wrote for Anduin, their specialest little boy:

'Anduin Wrynn: Having survived his ordeal with Domination, he will grapple with his relationship with the Holy Light that he no longer feels worthy of.'

ONE SENTENCE. Whereas Alleria has a whopping THREE SENTENCES in a LONG-ASS PARAGRAPH.

As long as they handle this as homosexually as possible, I am willing to forgive Alleria for "my..... visions..... are not like the others..... (gay)"

4. The Arathi (aka the human tribe in the new zone)

Honestly, no opinions. Depends on how they handle the story.

5. Nerubians (and a possible spider allied race in the future)

Alright, I have a few thoughts on this. We may ask Blizzard for characters of ALL kinds of races, but that depends on whether it's worth it to introduce all these things. (Mainly for money reasons I'm guessing, but also from functionality of the NPC race as a player character, and a variety of other things).

One thing about the playable races is that they are made with all sorts of animations. Sitting, flying, free-fall, kneeling, sleeping, and all those other stuff have their own animations. Some of these you will see whether you do or don't want to (like the pose of your character while they are on a mount).

And without exception, all playable races have to have the essential animations, and they must not look unnatural. Sure, they might look a bit weird, they should not look impossible.

A thing about nerubians is that they are, well. SPIDERS. They have a lot of legs. That's a lot of limbs to coordinate. The designers would need to figure out how to do the animations for something that is almost as long and wide as it is tall, and that's made a lot more difficult by the simple fact that nerubians are SPIDERS. I repeat: SPIDERS. If you cannot imagine a Nerubians riding your Mammoth mount, I assure you, the designers likely can't either.

BUT. Not all hope is lost. Because there is something unique in the concept designs in the Blizzard post...

Please take a look at the image below:

You can see here that while most of these designs are not playable race-friendly, ONE among them is.

This character is bipedal. They seem to have a tail behind them (you might see the shadow between their legs, which, disappointingly, is not a gigantic cock) but we already have characters with tails. Namely, the newly introduced Drachtyr. And while it is not exactly typical to have a character with four arms, it is not too big of an adjustment. THIS character would most likely be able to sit on a mount without trouble.

It is also, remarkably, wearing almost a full set of armor. One notable thing about playable races is that they are all able to have transmogs, which is a thing blizzard wants to make accessible for everyone because it's such a popular feature of customizing your character. The other spider NPC models are only wearing tabards or helms and etc, but this one has: a helmet, a pair of pauldrons, a chest piece, gloves, a waist item, and BOOTS of all fucking things. Also, do you see its pose? That's a classic Horde Night Elf stand (I'm sorry I don't remember their names). Everything about them screams "made for future player gameplay"

I'm guessing that once Xalatath and Alleria make up and have hot lesbian (redacted), the nerubians will join the fold and we will have our hot monster playable race. Rejoice!!

Also, look at these quotes: "Queen Ansurek has embraced these modifications [...] The society of nerubians offers up a citizenry in a variety of forms, some of which we’ve never seen before." This feels like they are really going to do it. I'm guessing we will get them at the end of War Within or at the end of the expansion trilogy. Which is nice! Always wanted to play a weird fucked up race tbh. The Dracthyr are cool, but more variety is always more fun.

6. Kobolds are coming back

Yessss. It's been a moment since I last saw those little fuckers. I hope to see more of them.

7. The everything else

Honestly... This is not looking bad either. I was pretty hasty with my judgement during the first look, but that was because the dialogue just squicked me. I am glad that they are taking this seriously and with great thought, and I hope to see the results in the coming years. I am looking forward to seeing what they do with all these ideas!

ok. i'm going to play now. guardians of dream is out

#world of warcraft #the war within #just thinking

[chapsandcobarbershop]

Barbershop Culture Around the World

You can find records of what we would call barbers as far back as 296BC, where Greek men would congregate at the market for a haircut. They would also chatter and gossip amongst themselves; of what, we have no record, perhaps philosophy, perhaps local gossip. One thing we can say for sure, is that the tradition continued.

Barbering is one profession that is unlikely to disappear anytime soon. Whilst there are heads, there will be hair, and that hair needs to be tamed. In different cultures, haircuts can signify different things, religious, heritage or simply style and fashion.

The Cut and the Chit Chat

The barbershop is often a place of discourse, be that political, social, local or of a more therapeutic nature. A place to talk openly, discuss issues and concerns, relationships or who scored where in what stadium. Whatever your experience of the barbershop, it is likely that socialising plays a large part in the visit.

The birthplace of modern barbering as we know it, is the USA. Back in the 19th century a man by the name of A.B. Molar created the first school of barbering. Offering training and education around the profession, he shaped the barbers we see today. Previously, barbers were also the surgeons and dentists in communities. Take that however you will.

Barbers Around the World

In the US today, the barbershop is teeming with sport talk. The who is who of the NBA and NFL, or who rattled the biscuit in the top shelf over the weekend out on the ice. Politics are often best left at the door in the US, when you are in the chair, the only care are the sports colours you wear.

Barbers in Mexico are often politically charged, with heated discussions around what appears in the broadsheets sat on the table in the waiting area. Taking politicians to task, and discussing socio-economic issues, barbers are often great orators, with a wide range of opinions, formed from speaking to wide demographics of people each day.

The UK barbershops are mostly filled with talk of football. The popular opening gambit for many Brits of “what team do you support, Mate” rarely turns a blank and serves as a perfect ice breaker. Usually, a silence or negative response nods to an assumed rivalry and quintessential British politeness. Failing a chat about the Premier League, the errands the wife has bestowed on the tired husband may also provide some light discussion.

Here in the UAE, an image conscious populace often intent on setting a trend, barbers talk style, fashion and what’s hot and what’s not. Looking for a unique style and to stand out from the crowd, the new breed of barbershop found around the streets, malls and hotels of Dubai scream tradition, although what you find inside should wow even the most modern of gentlemen. Their service is a journey, an experience, a well-rounded pampering.

Industry Insights

Popular and ever-growing barbershop chain Chaps & Co. is one such outfit operating out of the Middle East. Originating in Dubai, they now boast 10 shops in the UAE, across Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Their most recent opening, however, can be found halfway around the world on Broadway in New York City; the brand has certainly got something right.

Founder Jordan Davies alluded to a missing element in male grooming when he arrived in Dubai back in 2010. He said,

“I had been looking for somewhere to get a full service, hair, beard, towel shave, and whilst there were options, they were few and far between. Seeing this gap in the market, I teamed up with friends over here, and Chaps & Co. was born”.

Going from strength to strength, the brand quickly opened 2nd, 3rd and 4th shops, and the face of barbering changed forever in Dubai; he continued,

“After the success of the first two shop, it was a logical decision to expand around the city, strategically placing shops, even inside others such as our Bloomberg branch and inside the hotel, Caesars Palace. COVID of course caused us some disruption, but we’ve bounced back even stronger and now have shops in both Riyadh and New York City”.

When asked about the topic of culture he said,

“Back home in the UK, a trip to the barbershop was like a birth right. You didn’t just pick one, your dad took you to his, you were introduced to Frank, and he became your barber. You could visit anytime, join the queue and soon enough you were chatting with a man who has known you since you were a nipper. It’s quite the experience when you think about it, but also one that’s not uncommon anywhere in the world”.

We Come in Peace, and with Scissors

Perhaps, in a world wrought with indifferences between nations and people, one thing we can all come together on, is that a barbershop is a place you can visit, feel accepted and talk openly without judgement. Perhaps the worlds politicians and policy makers could do good to spend the day as a fly on the wall of any given barbershop, to better understand the people and places that fall under their laws.

What we can say for certain, is that whilst hair needs cutting, barbers will be patiently waiting, with both scissor and conversation. A story as old as time itself.

#barber #barbershop

[angelicspaceprince]

NSFW Alphabet Heisenberg Headcanons

For obvious reasons, this contains smut and is for 18+ only readers. Again, I’m posting only my headcanons onto tumblr, both can be found on my AO3

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very grabby, has a tendency to be a little softer. Loves a good cuddle after sex, definitely praises you constantly. He loves to wash you down with a cloth, wiping away all of the cum, the sweat, the blood, the tears, as he murmurs soft words of praise and encouragement, pressing a small kiss here and there as he does so.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m not entirely sure if Heisenberg would like any part of his body - it's just a vessel to him I believe. I think his favourite part of himself would be his discount magneto powers because that gives him the ability to create so many new tools to play with when it comes to having sex with you, some even on the spot.

For you, he loves your hands. He sees them as soft and gentle and he loves the feel of them in his work-worn, rough hands as he pushes you down into the bed, or them cupping his face as you pepper his face with kisses, telling him what a good boy he’s being for you, or when their wrapped around his dick as you jerk him off in a way that has him melting against your back and rolling his hips up into your palm.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves cumming inside or on you, there is no way in hell he’d ever wear a condom. It’s a marking thing, he needs to make sure you know that you’re his. He doesn’t have a preference for where he cums, just as long as it’s somewhere on you. If you spit and not swallow, he thinks it’s a waste of his seed and gets huffy about it - he’d much rather see it across your face than down the sink.

He cums a lot and it’s ungodly thick as well.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s fucked a lycan, been fucked by a lycan, and he fucking loved it. Was tempted to fuck a soldat but that was a little too much for him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing? )

I’d say pretty experience, if anything, he fucks the girls at the village mostly to spite and in an attempt piss off Miranda. He’d mellowed out about a decade before you met him, but definitely he’s had the time to gain quite a lot of experience.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Lotus, or any position where you’re on top of him. He enjoys grinding up into you and watching you come undone on top of him, but also means it's easier for him to grab at different parts of you - this goes for eating out too, he loves it when you sit on his face and ride him to completion. Loves mating press too, when he’s feeling particularly primal.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

By ‘goofy’ for H, I more think of sadomasochism or teasing you when you cum so hard you can’t see straight. I think he’d crack a few jokes here and there to make you laugh and you’d definitely have fun but for the most part, I think he’s more all about getting you riled up until you’re a trembling, begging mess.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is a hairy, hairy man who doesn’t give a shit about his grooming - he would have a thick and large amount of pubes that are wiry just like his beard. If you asked, he’d probably tame it down a little, but if you don’t care, it wouldn’t even cross his mind.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Only after leaving the village will he 100% let his guard down to be intimate during sex I think. There would be a lot of praise and stuff whilst you’re at the village, but it doesn’t really become too intimate until after everything has washed over. I fully believe the first time he says ‘I love you’ was in German and whilst you two were having possibly the most intimate round of sex you’d ever had in your life the first night after your escape from the village. After sex is usually where he’s the most intimate - where he will murmur softly against your skin about how good you are to him and how he adores you and can’t believe that you’re in his life.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I feel like he’d jack off quite frequently before you were around and even then, it probably doesn’t change much once you’re there. If he has no time for sex with you and it’s literally just an urge to deal with so he can concentrate on his work? Then yeah, he’ll pull out his dick and stroke himself off as he continues to work without a care in the world. It’s just to clear his mind so he can focus on the task at hand, to him it's no different than eating or sleeping. Just something he has to do to get by.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It’d be a lot easier to list the kinks he doesn’t have - shit, vomit and death. Beyond that, anything else is on the tables. His favourites would definitely include pred/prey, bondage, overstim, bloodplay, watersports, knife play, choking, cumplay/breeding kink, cockwarming, exhibitionism/voyeurism and marking/biting. He does have a preference for an active and willing partner, that being said CNC is also something he would enjoy as long as it was clear that both parties wanted it prior to the scene being played out.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Loves fucking at his desk - cockwarming especially. Loves cockwarming during inappropriate times too, like during family meetings. Or fucking you at Lady D’s house, edging you on and reminding you not to make a sound whilst making it impossible for you not to moan or scream his name. Anywhere and everywhere is an option for Heisenberg, but the riskier it is, the more he seems to love it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Literally, anything and everything. A breeze hitting him the right way will get him horny. You could be walking past in sweatpants and a baggy jumper and he will want you bent over the bench with his dick railing into you. It doesn’t take much, the man ain’t fussy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Killing someone during sex would be a big turn off. Involving any talk of Miranda or Lady D would also be off limits.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Doesn’t really have a preference. Is a master at getting you off with his mouth and will gladly spend hours dedicated to mapping you out and causing you to cum again and again with his just tongue. By the time he’s finished with you, you won’t be able to walk and you definitely will have a number of bruises and bite marks against your thighs as well as a pretty decent beard burn going on. His favourite thing to do once he’s pulled away is to put his cold hands against your thighs specifically where his beard burn is, just to feel you squirm and attempt to kick him away.

Receiving - he loves throat fucking you, or having you kneel under his workbench, tied up nice and tight, with his dick resting heavy on your tongue as he works, occasionally reaching down to stroke your hair, scratch at your scalp or fucking his hips up into you so you don’t get too cozy down there. Your jaw and throat always aches afterwards and he loves hearing how hoarse he’s made your voice - he will always have a drink waiting for you afterwards, but first he needs to hear how well he’s fucked your voice out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’ll depend on the mood - definitely after leaving the village there is more of an opportunity for Heisenberg to reach a more romantic, slow and sensual pace (although it definitely happened whilst in the village, it was just rare as often Heisenberg used sex as a stress release as well as a way to feel like he’s achieved something or made someone proud), but his more natural pace will always be fast, deep and on the rougher side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Good way to scratch an itch and was, for a good portion at the beginning of your relationship, the only way you’d have sex as the only reason you were having sex was to scratch an itch or for stress relief. As time went on, things changed and although ‘proper’ sex and longer sessions became the norm (especially because he loved to dedicate the time to map out every inch of your body and see exactly what makes you tick), he still loves a good quickie during the day.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He will try anything once, after all it’s how you figure out if you like something or not! In terms of risks, if it's a risk of getting caught, he is more than happy to take it. If it's a risk to your safety? Not on his life.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It doesn’t take long for Heisenberg to recover - unless you’re having a quickie, you best be ready for multiple rounds. Even if he can’t get it up, he will plaster his mouth between your thighs until your voice is hoarse and you’re squirming and weakly tugging at his hair in a vain attempt to pull him away. He loves feeling your strength pull away with each orgasm, seeing how weak and tired you become because of him. He’d never go too fair without prior warning, and if you safe-word out he will pull away instantly and be straight into aftercare mode. As for how long he lasts…..it really does depend on the situation, but if you have enough time and are in an environment where he feels safe, who knows how long he’d last. You have sat in his lap, cock buried deep inside of you for the entirety of many a family meeting, having to hide the fact that he was hard and throbbing inside of you. So, you know for a fact, he can last that long under stressful situations.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d make his own and have a little collection. He’d definitely think of something whilst working on his metal army, make it and instantly turn to find you to test them out. If it’s something a bit more intense, he’ll test it on himself first before seeking you out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you and keep you on edge of your first orgasm, making it out that he’s close to making you scream only to pull back and watch you pout, beg or even scream in frustration. His favourite place to tease you, though, is in a place where you can’t protest or beg, where you need to be silent or keep whatever you’re doing a secret. That’s definitely when the worst of his teasing will come out.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

It will depend on the situation (see wild card for submissive!H), but usually? He wants to drink in the sounds he has you make - he’s all short grunt and growls and soft murmurs of praise against your skin and dark promises that merge seamlessly with general dirty talk with small groans and moans peppered throughout. If he’s had an awful day, however? He’s much louder, much more aggressive. He needs to fuck his emotions out - and this is definately when his pred/prey kink comes into full swing. He will chase you throughout the village, throughout his factory, wherever he can, and is nothing but growls and snarls, every sound coming from his throat animalistic. He also bites a lot more too, claiming you as his, and it’s the only time that his sounds are muffled slightly.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

If you get him worked up enough if you get the chance to dom him (he will sub for a selected few), he will always end up babbling out his begs in German. If you ask nice enough, he may order you around in German or Romanian, but the only time it naturally comes out is when he’s so far gone into subspace, so needy and desperate, that it’s just natural for him to speak his first language. In general, if you get him to sub for you, he will not shut the fuck up - all moans and whimpers and broken groans, small promises to be good for you if you would just touch him already . Bratty sub for sure, definitely into pet play. Will only ever be able to handle a gentle dom for obvious reasons, and has a major, major, major praise kink, both giving and receiving but get this boy into subspace and praise him and just watch him whine and squirm and ask for more. If he’s misbehaving at home and you jokingly say ‘behave pup’, he will get flustered so quickly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Body wise, he is quite muscular but has a nice layer of fat to soften things out - it actually surprises you how strong he is from brute strength alone because he definitely doesn’t look it at first glance.

Cock wise - he’s more thick than he is long, average length but with a good amount of girth that has you feeling that stretch for hours afterwards.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I’d say pretty high, but he is also good at distracting himself from it? During his tenure at the village, he’s so focused on escaping that it looks like his sex drive is low to normal. But the moment you get out of the village? Have your own place where it’s safe and no one is there to stop you? All bets are off, he cannot keep his hands off of you. Half of it is catching up for lost time, half of it is just the fact that the man is permanently horny.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When domming: He doesn’t fall asleep often, but he will doze or rest his eyes for a second and enjoy the afterglow. He won’t leave to go back to work until you’ve fully conked out though, unless something desperately pressing comes up and he has to go. He’d rather spend this small amount of quality time with you and making sure you’re okay before leaving you alone and even when he does leave when you’re asleep, he has his eyes on his monitor with a live feed of you sleeping, just in case something goes wrong and you need him.

After subbing: He usually passes out pretty quickly. Subbing takes a lot more energy out of him than domming does, so once he’s cleaned up and has received his dose of praise and love, he usually falls asleep with his head in your lap, on your tummy or on your chest. He can’t wake up alone after a sub scene, even the very idea of it freaks him out, so you better make sure you have something to do as he naps because once he’s out, he’s asleep for hours.

#toby writes #fanfiction #toby's writing #fanfic #angelicspaceprince #bd/sm dynamics #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg/reader #karl heisenberg #ns/fw headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil village

[medical-gal]

Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

#sorry this is long #but goddammit it needed to be said #suzy's adventures in id

[joel-millerr]

Facing The Past

Chapter Three of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.6K

Summary: You and Mando head to Nevarro for him to collect the bounty on your head, but of course things don’t go as planned...

Warnings: violence, a little bit of smut, ANGST (as per usual), let me know if there's anything I missed 

A/N: (its also my first time writing any smut so hopefully it’s *okay*)

Nevarro is…gloomy—definitely not the type of planet you’d willingly visit. All you could see up until the horizon are plains of rock, cracks filled with lava, and steam emitting from the slits in the ground. Not even the sun shining down on you can improve the landscape. It’s muggy, and dark. In hindsight, it’s the perfect place for a bounty hunter base; the occupation compliments the wasteland that is this planet.

You don’t mean to be overly critical of bounty hunters, but they are to blame for imprisoning so many of your crew that your anger clouds any rational and unbiased opinion about this planet.

Mando lands the Crest just outside the walls of the city. The town itself looks terribly small, but doesn’t seem like a totalshithole. Other than Nevarro being the central location for the Bounty Hunters Guild, you don’t know much about the planet. Most of the spice running deals are made far away from here—for obvious reasons. Even you’re not reckless enough to step foot on a planet where most of the population wants to hunt you down for a price.

The last couple of days have been…awkward to say the least. Ever since your ‘incident’ on Sorgan, Mando’s barely said two words to you. Maybe he’s angry at you, maybe he’s scared of you—you can’t be sure, but he’s been distant. He no longer stands close to you, or engages in small conversation like he did back on Sorgan, and when he does, he doesn’t even look at you. His helmet stays peeled to whatever it is he was doing before you addressed him. It’s incredibly frustrating. You want to explain, you want to reassure that you would never think of doing that to him or the Child, but you yourself can’t even be sure of that. It feels completely out of your control, so how could you even attempt to reassure him that it couldn’t happen? You’re basically a simmering pot, and every day the water gets closer to the brim, and could bubble over at any minute.

And if you’re being honest, deep down you’re a little relieved that soon you’ll be in custody. You won’t be able to cause any more harm, even if some of them deserve it.

You’ve been living in the cockpit since you left Sorgan, spending most of your time sitting in the chair going over and analyzing every single moment from that night. There was obvious anger inside of you, and rightfully so considering that man had tried to kill you twice, but there was also a…voice. It was a whisper, like something deep in your subconscious, forcing you to do its bidding. It told you to make him suffer, to make him bleed, and the voice was happy to see the hunter in pain. Clouding every rational thought in your mind, it was like being trapped inside your own body. Screaming to break through, you were a helpless passenger watching your body commit this atrocity. You’ve never been malicious, you thought yourself a caring person. Someone who wouldn’t inflict harm just for the sake of revenge, but now you’re not sure who you are anymore.

Who are you? Are you a mechanic? Are you a spice smuggler? Are you a monster? There are voices at odds inside of you. They fight for dominance, they beg you to choose who you wish to be, and for the first time in forever, you’re scared of who you are becoming. You’re not who you thought you were, you’re not who Tye believed you to be, or who your parents raised you as. Are you this dangerous criminal that the fucking Republic paints you as?

“We’re here.” Mando’s baritone comes out strained. He lingers in the doorway of the cockpit for a few seconds then descends the ladder, not bothering to wait for you to catch up.

“Okay.” Your leg bounces off the floor, and you’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’ll probably leave a permanent mark. Eyes looking dead ahead, the Nevarro horizon looking back at you, you wonder if you’d still be in this situation if your parents were still alive. Would you have still rebelled and turned to a life of constant running? Would you have stayed on Tatooine, leaving no mark for the galaxy to remember you by? Would you still have met Mando somehow?

Using your heels to push you to your feet, you take one last look at the cockpit and then head down the ladder. The ramp is open, and you catch Mando waiting for you at the top of it. The Child rests in his arm, tiny hand latched onto his gloved index finger.

As you both descend down the ramp, there’s a man standing ahead of you, just in front of the archway entrance to the city. From the kept white beard that rests on his cheeks and chin, you assume he’s middle aged. There’s a black cloak wrapped around his body, fastened around his clavicle are two golden clasps attached to a chain which are only worn by magistrates. Mando has some powerful friends, you think to yourself.

“Ah, Mando!” The man exclaims gleefully, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Karga.” Mando acknowledges, his voice keeping low.

“How are you, my friend?”

“Alive.” There’s a hint of jest in Mando’s tone.

The man laughs loudly. “When did you become such a comedian?” A big hand clasps down on his beskar pauldron. The Child in Mando’s hand coos and catches Karga’s attention.

“And how are you, little one?” He reaches out to hold the green gremlin and the bounty hunter allows it, gently handing him over to Karga.

“Alright Mando,” The man begins to say, “Let’s get this over with.” He turns on his heel, the baby still in his arms and takes two steps before shouting over his shoulder, “The quarry can stay here. They’ll be here soon enough to collect the bounties.”

Mando doesn’t exactly look at you, but the helmet does tilt in your direction. He’s just a foot ahead of you and you swear you see his shoulders slouch for a second, like he’s having second thoughts. It’s dumb, you shouldn’t be thinking of something so foolish. He had a job to do, and now he’s done it. You’ll both go your separate ways and never see each other again. That’s how this is supposed to go. That’s how this was going to end ever since he captured you.

Two collectors stand nearby, waiting for Karga to give them the order. As he and Mando pass through the arches, the collectors make their way to you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, refusing to show any weakness or sadness and with as much gusto as you can muster, you call out “Well, it was nice knowing ya, Mando.”

How stupid of you to think you could possibly mean anything more to him than a fucking quarry. He never gave you any indication that he even liked you. He merely tolerated your presence because you were useful. It was nothing more than a transaction between you both, and you could kick yourself for even letting these thoughts roam free in your mind. Forget Mando, forget the kid, forget every fucking person in this world who’s hurt you or left you. When this first started, you wanted Mando to get his credits because you liked him, but now with the ice-hot anger brewing inside of you, you don’t care anymore.

The two collectors—Rodians you infer as they get closer to you, approach the Crest, one of them heading up the ramp into Mando’s ship to collect the quarries in carbonite, the other staying by your side, probably anticipating that you’ll try to make a break for it although realistically, there isn’t a single place you could run to. You would either have to run into the city and try to hide or run for the hills. Neither option sounds tempting enough, given the fact that Mando would be on your ass in seconds.

Three carbonite chambers float down the ship, and the collector gives the one by your side a nod of acknowledgement. Your eyebrows pull together as you examine the subtle exchange between both men. The stranger next to you binds your wrists and shoots you a smile that’s anything but kind. The corner of his lip curls into a sinister grin, one that shoots panic up and down your spine. In the corner of your eye, you make out the silhouette of nearby ship. Was that always there?

Wait, shouldn’t there be more than just two members securing the quarries? This doesn’t make any sense. Why aren’t there more people here? Why is no one else here?

“Let’s go,” One of them orders. The first one makes a beeline for the ship, leaving behind the quarries from the Crest. Why would Guild members leave behind quarries?

Something’s not right. Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins, and the urge to fight is starting to prick at every nerve ending in your body. These guys can’t Guild members. Somehow, they’ve fooled everyone.

They urge you forward to the ship in the distance and you plant your feet firmly into the ground. If they manage to get you on that ship, you’re done for. You need to struggle as much as you can and pray to the Maker that someone will realize this whole thing is a set up.  

“Where are you taking me?” Trying to suppress the alarm in your voice, it comes out choked and feeble. A large hand grips your bicep and makes you whimper, their dexterous fingers digging into the thin material of your sleeve. You jerk back, trying to wriggle out of their hold, but it only causes them to tighten the grip around your bicep, pain now shooting up and down your arm.

“Fucking let me go!” You shout, hoping someone—Mando, will hear you, but no one can hear you.

“Oh, shut up!” The Rodian ahead of you shouts before swiftly turning on his heel and stalking towards you. His large fist winds up and slams into your stomach, knocking you completely off balance. If it wasn’t for the other one holding you upright, you would have fallen flat on your back. Nonetheless, you crouch over, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. The men laugh together ruefully, sheer enjoyment displayed on their faces.

“The boss is going to love playing with you,” One of them taunts, leaning down towards you and grabbing hold of your chin so that he can look you in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” You spit out through ragged breaths.

“Why, you little bitch.” A hand comes flying at your face and you brace yourself for the pain, sewing your eyes shut. His green backhand connects with the softness of your cheek with so much force that your head snaps to the side, following the movement of his hand. Your cheek throbs, ripples of pain so intense you feel tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

The wrath inside you is screaming and clawing at your insides. The whisper in your head commands you to cause them pain. It craves the cries of their sufferings, to see the life drain from their eyes. You’re trying to fight it; you don’t want to let that fucking voice win, but the searing agony from their blows feed the darkness that roars deep within you. You can feel your control slipping, fingers twitching against your will as your attackers try to haul you into their ship.

A beam of red light narrowly misses you, and one of your assailants drops to the floor with a loud thud. Your eyes bounce around you, trying to locate the source of the blast, when you catch the silhouette of shiny beskar running straight for you. There’s no hiding the joy and relief that is so evident on your face. He came back. Somehow, he came back for you.

You can feel the man still holding you start to panic. His body tenses, and he begins frantically pulling you into the ship, but now that you know you’re one-on-one, you waste no time fighting back. Gathering as much force as you can and flailing your bound arms around, his body turns towards you, and straightaway your leg lifts off the ground, slamming your knee right in his crotch. The man yelps in pain, hunching over involuntarily. You use this opportunity to connect your knee with his stomach with so much vigor, his body flies backwards, hitting the ground hard. As you lean over his body, he starts begging and pleading for his life.

“Please, please I was just doing it for the money!” He finally chokes out, his voice filled with pure terror as his hands come up in surrender. That evilness in your mind urges you to make his final moments hurt, to show no mercy for the man who would have certainly not shown you mercy. Shaking your head violently in an effort to cast out the mysterious voice, you wrench your eyes shut.

No.

You hear distance footsteps getting louder and louder, and then stop altogether. Tilting your head ever so slightly to the right, you can see his boots in the corner of your eye. Mando’s testing you. He wants to know if you’ll pull the same stunt you did back on Sorgan. As the man at your feet continues to plead for his life, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in.

This man is no different than you. He was given orders, and did what he thought was necessary in order to complete the contract. You can sympathize with that. There are so many things you’ve done in your time as a smuggler—things that have made you question your morals, and how far you’re willing to go to get the job done. Things you’re not proud of, things you now regret. At the end of the day, you’re both just pawns in a much bigger fight, and although you’ve both decided a path with little room for ethics, an unnecessarily harsh death is one you won’t inflict upon him.

You take a deep breath, inhaling in as much air in your lungs as possible, it almost burns them. Squaring your shoulders, you take a step back away from your assailant. That’s all the permission Mando needs, and his pistol comes up and sends a red beam of light right into the man’s chest, silencing him.

“We need to go. There will be more soon.” Mando warns, as he leans down and grabs the key from the dead man’s corpse to unbind your wrists. Your head bobs in acknowledgement, and then you’re both heading for the Crest. Karga’s waiting by the ramp of the ship, holding the Child in his arms. As soon as the little green baby spots you, he tries desperately to wiggle out of Karga’s grip, tiny arms reaching out for you. Mando takes the Child from his friend’s arms and gives him to you. Giant eyes peer up to look at you and the baby coos. Your lips curl up into a smile, taking two fingers to gently rub his ear.

“I had no idea the Empire was after her,” Karga says to Mando sincerely. The man’s gaze then turns to you. “I’m sorry. I should have known something was off about the deal.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a smile. “It’s fine.”

“You two should leave. It’s only a matter of time before someone else comes for them.” Them? Are they after the kid, too?

“Yes.” Mando answers matter-of-factly.

Karga nods, and a big hand comes out to shake Mando’s. “Safe travels, Mando.”

His gaze flicks towards you for a second and you offer him another smile and tip of the head before turning around and heading up the ramp to the Crest. You head straight for the cockpit, placing the child in the seat adjacent to yours and strapping him in. Mando comes in right after you, planting himself down in the pilot’s chair. The ships thrusters roar to life and you take off, the Nevarro landscape disappearing the higher your climb into the air.

Now that you actually have time to process what the fuck just happened; the reality of your situation hits you. It’s not the Republic that’s after you, it’s the Empire. The Empire you thought was defeated five years ago. The Empire that that killed thousands, if not millions of people.

Why? Why you? What could possibly be so special about you that the Empire has a fucking bounty on you? Wait, Karga had said ‘them’. Does that mean you and the Child? What could you and the Child possibly have in common that the Empire wants the two of you? Your mind recollects the moment you two shared on Sorgan—where he seemed to communicate something to you but that’s hardly enough of a connection, right? There’s just no way. You’re nothing but a petty smuggler. You haven’t lived a life worthy of being wanted by the fucking Empire. You had a normal childhood, and then went on to smuggling spice. That’s it. There’s literally nothing fucking exceptional about you.

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. The gentle hum of hyperspace fills the tension in the cockpit. Neither you nor Mando know what to say. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you start to question whether or not it’s a good idea that you’re even flying with them. If what Karga said is true, and the Empire is hunting you and the kid, surely having the two of you together is too risky. Realistically, you should split off. You should go your separate ways on whatever planet Mando’s set the coordinates for, in an effort to prolong the Imps’ search.

“Where are we going?” Your gentle voice cuts through the gentle purr of hyperspace.

“Tatooine. I have a friend there that owes me a favor.” His voice comes out slightly gruff through the modulator.

Your breath catches in your throat. You haven’t been back to Tatooine since your first smuggling run. After the job with Tye, you had made a decision to become a full-time runner, and vowed never come back to the shithole that was Tatooine, not while there was an infinite amount of galaxy out there that you hadn’t seen yet, leaving your old life and self to rot on that planet. There were too many hurtful memories, too much pain.

A small coo emits from the baby and you look over and see him slouching in his seat, big eyes blinking slowly. The poor thing must be exhausted. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reach over and wrap him in your arms. He nestles in your lap, letting the sleepiness overcome his little body. At first you consider laying him in his pram and letting him sleep in there, but he’s already fast asleep in your arms before you can put him down, so you decide to let him rest where he is. The adrenaline and stress from the last couple of hours starts to take its toll on you. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelms you, the stiffness in your bones turns to fatigue, and you try to fight your eyelids from closing. You don’t want to fall asleep yet. You want to ask Mando why he came back for you, why he’s helping you, but your body succumbs to the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, the last thing you hear is the stillness of hyperspace.

When you wake, the Child is no longer in your arms, and Mando isn’t in the pilot’s chair. Rising to your feet lazily, you drag them over to the control panel to check the status of your route, rubbing your eyes with your palm in order to steady your vision. You’ll be landing on Tatooine in less than an hour, which unfortunately only gives you a small finite amount of time to properly prepare yourself for the onslaught of memories that will smack you in the face once you land.

Maybe no one will remember you. Mos Eisley isn’t exactly the smallest city, meaning there’s chance that no one would even recognize you. All you need to do is avoid the cantinas and merchants you used to frequent back when you lived there and maybe, just maybe you could remain unseen.

Suddenly getting the feeling that someone’s watching you, you strain your neck while turning your head as much as it can, seeing the faintest hint of chrome in the corner of your eye. Turning your body towards the door, the sight of Mando takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but get startled by his sudden presence. You almost forgot how intimidating he actually looks. Even as he stands there doing nothing, there’s a certain level stoicism and command in the way he carries himself, the same way a man who’s a captain of a battalion would carry himself—robust, and proud, however also reserved. There’s no way to gauge what he’s thinking unless he deliberately tells you, and Mando doesn’t like to talk very much. It forces you to anticipate what he would think or how he would feel in every situation you’re both put in, wracking your brain and making it damn near impossible to keep up with him.

The shades of pale blue mixed with white reflect off his beskar armour. His visor is pointed at you, although you can’t be sure if he’s actually looking at you or through you. His stance is stiff which isn’t unusual but there’s a gentleness that radiates off of him. Your throat goes dry, and you’re sure you’re breaking skin from how hard you’re biting your lip. You haven’t had a proper moment alone together since that night on Sorgan, and neither of you spoke about what happened. There’s a lot of unanswered questions you need to discuss, but the thickness of the air around you is becoming overwhelming. You don’t say anything, and stay firmly planted where you stand. The Mandalorian mimics you, refusing to take a step forward. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, heat coiling in your stomach and making it harder to ignore the wetness beginning to form in your panties. Refusing to show submission, your eyes stayed locked to the ‘T’ of his visor. His hands twitch at his sides, but shows no other kind of movement. He’s still as a fucking tree and somehow that only turns you on even more. He has to be feeling the same way you are right now. It can’t just be you this time.

Mando finally takes one step forward and your breathing hitches. Stars, if he comes any closer, you’re going to explode. You’ve never experienced this kind of tension before. Your body’s never felt so on fire and he hasn’t even touched you, but you desperately want him to. So you mimic his movements and take a step forward, testing him. It’s barely noticeable but somehow his back stiffens even more, chest pushing out faintly. The blood in your ears is deafening, your heart slamming so hard against your chest you feel like passing out.

“What are you doing?” The baritone pulling rough and breathy. Okay, so this is affecting him just as much as it is for you.

Your tongue glides against your bottom lip before biting down on it, hard. Curious to see how far you can push this, you don’t answer him and instead take another small step forward. By now you’re only a couple feet away from each other and the air of the cockpit is disgustingly thick with a need to fuck each other senseless right here and now. His hands ball up into fists and that lets you to know he’s fighting his primal desires. You think you hear short, distorted breaths emit from the helmet, but you’re too far away to be certain. Your panties are fucking soaked, your slick almost dripping down your thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve been fucked, and you need it, need Mando to bend you over the control panel and pound into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he’s reading your mind, because he closes the gap between you two in a flash. He’s hovering over you, and despite the cool amour he wears, you can feel the heat radiating off him. Your nostrils fill with the smell of gunpowder, and his musk and it takes all your energy not to fucking whimper. Only Mando can get you this worked up when nothing’s even happened yet.

One of his brown leather-gloved hands comes up to touch your arm. If you thought your breathing was irregular before, well now you’re basically suffocating as his hand hovers your arm and you want to scream at him to touch you—beg him to do what you can’t bring yourself to do. Please, Mando.

Right as you feel a glove graze your arm, the ship jumps out of hyperspace, and in an instant your moment is over. His hand drops back to his side and you let out a deep breath of disappointment. Your shoulders slump, and your head drops, staring at the floor.  Instinctively, you slither out of his way so he can slip into the pilot’s chair.

The radio comes to life, static filling the cockpit before a female voice emanates from the speaker. “Razor Crest, this is Mos Eisley Tower. We’ve picked up your signal. Head for bay three-five, over.”  

“This is Razor Crest, locked in for three-five.” Mando answers coolly, as if two minutes ago there wasn’t an unbelievable amount of sexual tension between you two. You try to hide your annoyance at the fact that he can snap in and out of a moment so quickly. He’s seemed to have forgotten all about it unlike you who can’t seem to snap out of it. You reluctantly sit in your seat, shifting uncomfortably due to the stickiness of your underwear.

As you descend into Tatooine airspace, your nerves begin spiraling. Both your legs bounce off the ground, and your hands twiddle in your lap. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s sand. Maker, you hate how the sand feels against your shoes, never giving you enough solid ground to walk properly. Constantly twisting your ankles because the sand concaved in certain areas. How it always fucking found its way into your shoes, your clothes, your hair. You could take four sonic showers and still feel fucking sand in places it should never be in. Then there was the absolutely incomprehensible fact that water was scarce here. A bare necessity for everyone to survive had to be farmed like vegetation. Curse the Maker for this planet. You’re not sure what planet you hated more, Kijimi or Tatooine.

Mando lands the Crest in the hangar the operator told him to, and your brows furrow looking at your surroundings. This hangar looks familiar. It’s not the one your parents owned, but you definitely recognize the random discarded parts scattered throughout the area. You hope you’re wrong, that Mando didn’t land in the only hangar that you’d know.

The Mandalorian rises from his seat and begins to make his way to the ladder. “Let’s go.” He calls out before climbing down the rungs. For a moment, you consider asking if you could stay in the ship the whole time you’re docked here, but it would be a ridiculous thing to ask. You’re an adult, and you have to confront your past, no matter how ugly it is. Reluctantly, you slide out of your seat and climb down the steps. The cubbyhole where Mando’s cot is located is shut, and you assume the Child was sleeping in there. He presses a button on his vambrace and the door slides open, the kid sits patiently at the door. Mando scoops up the Child, a tiny green hand immediately clutches onto one of Mando’s gloved fingers. The ramp opens slowly, and even from far away you instantly recognize the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp.

“Mando!” Peli exclaims, throwing her arms in the air and then resting them on her hips.

Peli fucking Motto. You’ve known her since you were a child. She was a difficult woman, to say the least. Not the most generous person—she only ever did someone a favor if there was something in it for her. You never personally worked for her, and there was a reason she only ever had droids as her workers. She was the type of woman who barked orders at everyone in her employment. What Peli lacked in size, she made up for in attitude.

Mando descends the ramp before you, your legs refusing to move. As soon as Peli catches sight of the baby, the tough exterior you’ve only ever seen disappears into a gentle, kinder demeanor. Mando hands her the baby and she wraps her arms around him, her hand gently caressing the little hairs on the Child’s head. The baby squeals in excitement. Her gaze leaves the baby to face Mando only for a moment, before locking her eyes with yours.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks him. Your face is covered by the shadows of the Crest, disguising your features. Holding your head up high and pushing your shoulders back, you walk down the ramp. Her face turns from curiosity to anger, fast. Eyebrows scrunching up and lips forming a tight line, she scoffs. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hi, Peli.” Your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had the choice.”

Peli eyes stay locked on yours. You know that saying, ‘if looks could kill’? You’re pretty sure you’d be dead right now if that were true.

“It’s a bad idea to get involved with this one, Mando.” She turns to look at the visor. “She’s always been trouble.”

This time you let out a laugh, hand coming to sit on your hip. “That’s such bullshit, Peli and you know it,” Using your free hand to point a finger at her, punching out your next jab at her. “You’re the difficult one.”

“That’s rich coming from the spice smuggler.” Her last words dripping like venom.

You bite down hard on your jaw, wanting to argue, but in this very rare case, she’s actually right. It’s just one of the many truths you’ll have to face being back here.

“Anyway,” She says before turning away from you to face the Mandalorian to her right. “What can I help you with, Mando?”

“The hyperdrive needs to be fixed, and I need to refuel.”

“I’m surprised this one hasn’t offered her services.” Peli shoots you a glare.

“I did fix it but—” You begin to say but Mando cuts you off before you can finish.

“We were stranded, and it was only partially fixed. If I’m to make it to the next destination, I need to be at above 70%.”

“Sure thing, boss. We can get that fixed.” She shifts her weight to walk away from you both, but before she can call her droids, you call out to her. “There’s a problem.”

She turns her torso just enough to look in your direction, “With you? Why am I not surprised?” Rolling her eyes, she continues to stare you down.

“Look Peli, if you have something to say,” You taunt, taking a step towards her. “Then say it.”

Challenging you, she steps towards you as well. The Child in her arm fusses worriedly, and you almost back down from the confrontation when you realize this might be scaring the little guy. “Oh, I got a lot to say, kid.”

“That’s enough.” Mando orders. As reason comes back to you and somewhat clears your mind, it’s probably not a good idea to start a fight with the only person that can fix his ship and potentially get you off this planet, so you back off and step back.

“The Empire is after her,” Mando starts to explain. Peli shoots you another stare and rolls her eyes again. “We fought them off on Nevarro, but we don’t know how much time we’ll have until they come back.”

Despite her very obvious resentment towards you, she nods and forces a smile—not very comforting, but it’s enough to put you both at ease. “Don’t worry, Mando. I’ll have her ready as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

You continue to stare at Peli with daggers in your eyes. There’s a lot of undealt with animosity between you both, but you’re not sure you’ll have time to settle it. “We’re gonna go try and find a lead. Maybe someone here will know why she’s wanted. Can you watch the Child in the meantime?” He asks.

“Can I? Mando, this little guy is the only reason I let you in my hangar. This little womp rat has found a way into ol’ Peli’s heart.” She says affectionately, looking down at the baby and blabbing some nonsense. The kid responds by giggling and using his little arms to reach out and touch the finger that wiggles in front of him.

“Didn’t know you had a heart,” You whisper under your breath. Peli doesn’t seem to hear you, but Mando does because you hear a sigh comes from the vocoder. “That’s enough.” He orders, just loud enough for you to hear him.

Even though it’s been five, almost six years since you’ve been here, everything still looks the same. The whole city is devoid of color, just various shades of beige and whites as far as the eye could see. Every single home and every cantina stand like monuments made of fucking sand, showing no detail or artistry in their structure. It’s like every piece of culture from around the galaxy comes to Mos Eisley and dies, leaving only taupe boringness behind. It’s possible you’re being too harsh on the city, but you were born here so you have the right to be a bitch about it.

You never thought you’d be back here, breathing in the fucking dry, gritty filled air you grew up breathing in. It’s as stuffy and suffocating as you remember it, maybe even worse than you remember it. As the sun blazes down on you and Mando, you can admit there is one thing you actually do like about Tatooine. The sun was always out, always scorching hot and always beaming down on your skin, leaving a beautiful golden tint to your complexion. You could stay out all day and never develop a burn; your body was so used to the heat. Now, you wonder if that’s changed. Rolling up the sleeves of your tunic up to your elbow, the sun instantly pricks at your skin. The heat feels like a giant hug, caressing your untouched skin. Okay, maybe there was one thing you missed about Tatooine.

You both walk cautiously around the city looking for a cantina in the hopes of finding someone who might know what Empire wanted from you, but also keeping an eye out for possible threats. He treads a couple feet ahead of you, but you don’t mind. So far, you haven’t really recognized anyone, and no one’s seemed to recognize you. Just a couple more days and you can put this all behind you. There are plenty of vendors out, selling everything from fabric for clothing to food from other planets, to parts for ships. People from various walks of life mingle throughout the city. A few vendors away, you see a couple of Jawas trying to bargain for some old, outdated ship parts. The Jawas were always on the hunt for miscellaneous scrap metal parts, as well as other junk. To each their own, you guess. You’ve had a couple dealings with Jawas. They were sneaky, and smart despite their appearance. You had always tried to avoid making transactions with them if at all possible.

On your right, you see an older gentleman selling some garments, and the realization pops into your head that you do need new clothes. Since you weren’t planning on all of this happening, the only clothes you have are the ones on your back, and the ones you accidentally left behind on Sorgan. You’re in desperate need for new clothes.

“I’ll be right back,” You tell Mando before making a beeline for the old man’s stand. You don’t wait for Mando to acknowledge you.

“Hi there, traveler.” The man greets, using a cane to rise to his feet from the stool he was sitting on beforehand.

You offer him the same genuine smile he shows to you before letting your hands touch and feel the various assortment of garments placed before you on the table. “These are beautiful.” You remark.

“Thank you. My wife’s the one who sews them. She does all the work. I just sell them afterwards,” He humbly admits. Your eyes stay peeled to the numerous amount of attires on display in front of you, but still keeping that smile on your face. “Oh, hi sir. Can I interest you in anything?” He says, a mix of shock and kindness in his tone. You look up and notice Mando by your side.

“Nothing for me, thank you.” He says politely.

You decide on some charcoal-colored trousers that has some pockets sewn in on each side of the thighs, along with a white short-sleeved tunic. The merchant also sells backpacks, so you also buy one of those to store your new clothes in until you can get back to the Crest. It’s only once you start digging in your pockets that you’re embarrassingly aware that you have no credits on you. Mando picks up on the sudden realization and pulls out credits of his own and hands them over to the old man.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” You try to reassure him.

“It’s fine,” Mando replies.

The man bows and thanks you both for your business, and you nod in return before continuing your walk through the city.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mando spots a cantina just a couple buildings away and of course it’s the onecantina you hoped not to visit. It’s the one place you and Tye would frequent when you both lived here, and the owner of the establishment knew you both by name. The both of you had visited that cantina on pretty much a daily basis, playing sabacc with other locals, and getting way too drunk.

As you get closer to the door of the cantina, you stop in your tracks, your feet becoming cement blocks. It doesn’t take Mando long to notice that you’re no longer walking behind him, so when he does, he turns his body to see where you are and heads for you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t there another cantina we can check out?”

A sigh exists the helmet and big gloved hands come to rest on his hips. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like maybe there’s another cantina we can visit.”

“Why would we do that when there’s one right here?” His tone becomes faintly more irritated, probably because you’re wasting valuable time trying to run away from your past.

Your mouth opens to justify your apprehension, but there isn’t a single justifiable reason not to head into the cantina. Mouth forming a thin line, you shrug and start for the tavern.

The cantina is loud, all kinds of walks of life are gathered inside mingling. You stop just at the top of the stairs and begin scanning the area, looking for a quiet table you both can sit at. Mando clearly has other ideas because he doesn’t even bother to look around before heading straight for the bar. “Mando—” You call out, but he’s too far ahead to hear you, and the noise from the patrons inside drowns out your voice. The noise that escapes your lips is definitely full of annoyance, but there’s no telling Mando what to do. You follow suit, and stand a couple feet away from him, your back turned to his as you continue to look out for anyone you might know.

You can’t hear the exchange between the bartender and Mando, but by his posture, you guess he doesn’t receive any good news. Form what you can make out through the noise of the cantina, the droid behind the bar informs Mando that no one from the Empire has stepped foot in Mos Eisley in weeks, so the likelihood of anyone knowing anything is slim to none.

“Let’s go. There’s nothing here.” Mando’s voice cuts through the vocoder. You nod and head for the exit. One cantina down, only…too many more left.

Once back in the heat, you both continue to make your way through the city, taking random turns down streets less populated than the main path. You’re still being cautious over being seen by either someone from your past or someone looking to collect your bounty, but you’re much more relaxed now. Being back gives you a sense of familiarity and there’s a slight twinge of nostalgia that reminds you of your childhood. Every street you pass, every building you take notice of—it’s all things you’ve seen before. You can remember running down this exact street with Tye due to a game of tag. A couple streets away there was a food stand that sold the most amazing magenta colored fruit you had ever tasted in your life. It was a rare treat that only came in once every season, but it was so worth it. The fruit was sweet, and so full of juices that whenever you ate it, its nectars would trinkle down your chin and onto your tunic. Your mother always scolded you for eating without being careful, but it never stopped you from dirtying your shirt anyways. As you pass by where the stand used to be, all you see is an abandoned kiosk. Of course, it’s no longer there.

The sun’s beginning to set now, turning the sky into mixture of pastel pinks, blues, and purples that swirl around like an abstract painting. The streets are also starting to become less crowded; vendors are starting to pack up their stands for the day, and most of the locals are gathering in the cantinas for a night of gambling and drinking. You’re not sure when you began trailing behind Mando, but you follow him as he makes his way through the roads. Your arms are crossed against your body, the mental exhaustion of the day is starting to take its toll on your body.

He spots another cantina on the way back to the ship. There’s an unspoken conversation that occurs between you both. He tilts the helmet in the direction of the cantina, and your your shoulder lifts in the air in response. He walks in first then waits for you. When you’ve caught up to him, out of habit you take in your surroundings and take a scan of the room.

He crouches down and whispers in your ear. “Find us a booth. I’ll be there shortly.” The baritone of his voice cutting right through you and hitting a part of you inside that hasn’t been touched in ages. You can’t control the way your body reacts when he’s that close to you—the hairs on your arms standing up, the small shudder that went traveled from your spine down to between your thighs. You’re instantly reminded of the moment you two shared back in the cockpit of the Crest. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get to have another moment like that again, but you’ll live in that moment for as long as you possibly can if that’s all you’ll ever have.

There’s an empty booth at the back of the cantina so naturally that’s the booth you break for. Once you’re seated, you catch Mando talking to the droid behind the bar. A lot of the patrons inside are eyeing the Mandalorian, and you’d be lying if there wasn’t a dash of pride that hits you. Seeing a Mandalorian is rare enough as it is, so seeing a Mandalorian enter a cantina with someone else who’s not Mandalorian? You’re sure this is the first time anyone in here has seen either.

It’s hard not to stare at him. You have no idea what he looks like underneath that helmet, and there’s not even a part of you that cares. It’s all in his body language. You thought of him as a heartless hunter, a man made of beskar—inside and out, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He has the kid and cares deeply for him. Mando portrays himself as a warrior, a strong, stoic man who abides by rules and discipline, but he went back for the Child. He came back for you. It’s true, he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t divulge in talking about his past or about his Creed, but there’s a softness to him, a gentleness that you know not many people have seen, and somehow you’ve been lucky enough to see it.

“Care for some company, baby?”

Your gaze shifts from Mando to the foul man standing to your right. His breath reeks of alcohol, and he can barely keep himself upright without swaying in every direction. He’s holding two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of liquid in the other.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the smell of him. “No, thanks.” You reply politely. However, there is a stern tone to your voice.

“Oh, come on,” The man stumbles even though he hasn’t even moved. He loses balance and falls into the booth, now just a couple feet away from where you’re sitting. “What’s a gal like you sitting all by yourself on a fine night like tonight, hmmm?”

His hand reaches out to touch your hand, but your reflexes are much faster than his. You grab onto his wrist before it can get too close to you, and you apply pressure on the grip. His face scrunches up, and you know he’s feeling the firmness of your control. “I said no. Now, back off.”

Your hold slacks and you let go, pushing his arm and hearing it land on the table. Sliding out of the booth, you head straight for Mando who’s still standing at the bar. Before you can call out for him, you feel a large hand come down on your bicep and whip you around.

“We just want to show you a good time, bitch.” Another man bellows. You figure he’s with the creep that’s still sitting in your booth. Your body reacts before your mind can process what’s happening. Your hand balls into a fist, reaching far back to gain as much momentum as possible, then comes slamming into the man’s nose. Bone cracks and you can’t believe you just broke that fucker’s nose. He wails in pain, his hands flying to cover his face. Blood is pooling down his hands and onto the floor. Stars, you didn’t know you could hit that hard.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” Someone else shouts and they’re running for you, pushing down others in their path. You prepare to fight but a gloved hand grabs your wrist before you can do any more damage. Mando blocks your entire body with his, and the attacker running stops dead in his tracks, almost tripping on his own feet with pure terror in his eyes. Mando doesn’t even have to do anything before all three men are apologizing profusely and retreating as fast as they came down on you. Everyone knows it’s a fool’s errand to pick a fight with a Mandalorian. They’re not called the greatest warriors in the galaxy for no reason.

“We should head back to the ship before we cause any more trouble,” Your voice is lighthearted, but Mando doesn’t respond. Taking his silence as a ‘yes’, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the cantina and onto the street. Walking out of there and feeling the warm breeze against your hot skin feels amazing. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and all the tiredness from your body is momentarily wiped away.

Mando finally appears behind you, and you take the lead on the way back to the ship while he continues to stroll behind you. Nightfall had arrived on Mos Eisley, and the only light that’s given are the dimly lit lanterns posted every few metres along the streets. Unless you’re a frequent visitor or a local, one could easily get lost at night. You on the other hand could make your way through the city with your eyes closed.

You don’t have time to process it, but you’re being pulled into an alley. Mando’s grip on your arm is firm, but he makes sure not to hurt you. There’s only one lantern in the backstreet, and you can barely see anything in front of you. He continues to pull you further and further into the alley until you’re sure no one would see either of you even if you were just three feet in front of you.

When he finally lets go of your arm, he’s standing in front of you at arm’s length. You can make out his silhouette only because the moon’s glow reflects off the beskar he’s wearing. Your eyes flicker up and down his body, trying to gauge why he’s doing this, but he gives you absolutely no indication.

“Uh, what are we doing here, Mando?”

“Take the bag off,” He orders, his voice scratching at a dangerously low register. Sliding your arms out of the straps, the bag drops to the floor.

You’re not scared of him, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’re definitely cautious, and you can’t help the fight or flight instinct that’s overcoming you. Ever so slowly, he stalks towards you. Out of impulse, you take a step back and another and another and another until your back hits the wall behind you. Heart thumping in your chest, and your mouth drier than the fucking Tatooine sand dunes, desire pooling in your stomach. His broad chest encircles you. The cuirass grazes against your chest and you can feel the cool beskar against your burning skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but you don’t know where so instead you keep your hands by your thighs, your pussy throbbing so much it hurts. You don’t know what the fuck is happening, but you want more. You need more. The moment in the cockpit doesn’t hold a candle to this. This is something else—needy, desperate.

Mando’s breathing is uneven, that’s about the only thing you can make out. The vocoder distorts his breaths, making them scratchy and rough. Your chest is heaving with how unsteady your own breathing is. You’ve never been this turned on by someone who hasn’t even touched you.

“Fuck,” Mando murmurs, the baritone of his voice dangerously low. Both arms come up and he rests his palms on the wall behind you, fully boxing you in. Your throat is so dry, it feels like its suffocating you. Quick, shaky breaths escape your lips, and Mando is so fucking close to you, you can see the condensation emerging on his helmet from your pants.

“Tell me stop,” He’s basically growing now, the heat between you two becoming too much. It’s desperate, like he’s unable to control himself so he’s asking you to. It might be nightfall, but you’re still out in public, and despite the fact that you both could be caught any second now, it somehow spurs you both on. The thrill and risk of being this intimate frightens and fucking excites you.

Maker, you want it. You’ve wanted him since the moment you laid eyes on him back on Kijimi. Ever since then you’ve been fighting your attraction to him. Mando didn’t seem like the type to fuck quarries then turn them in, so you had made the conclusion that nothing could ever happen between you two. That quickly changed when you were alone in the cockpit. You had felt the shift in your relationship. No longer were you the only one struggling to bottle up the sexual tension that clearly presented itself whenever you were together. He was just as needy as you were.

“I—” You try to speak, but with the blood pounding in your ears, your mind is going blank. You can’t even force a coherent sentence, the heat is so fucking intense, you’re drowning in it.

A leather glove brushes the loose strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes and letting a moan escape your lips. It’s such a simple gesture, but because Mando—a man who can kill with his bare hands is the one doing it, makes it so comforting.

Since words aren’t coming to your mind, you resort to using your body to communicate. Your hands are still trembling at your sides but you muster as much strength as you can and grab Mando’s hips, pulling them towards you until his body clashes with yours. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and instinctively, you spread your legs so he can slide one of his own between yours, moaning gently at the feeling of his bulge against your pussy.

“Stars…” He mutters, one arm still planted next to your head and the other coming down to your hip and digging his glove into the material of your pants. The helmet comes right up to your ear now, “Do you want me to fuck you in this alley?” It’s dirty, his voice hitting that sweet spot inside of you that nearly has you combusting on the spot. “Someone might see us.” He’s fucking taunting you and whether or not he actually does want you to push him away, there’s a mutual understanding that that won’t be happening.

The corners of your lips curl into a sly smile. You’re not scared to make a scene, to give some passerby a filthy show. Your next words come out slow, savoring every single moment you can right now. “Then let’s give them a good show.”

The noise that comes through the helmet is animalistic, somewhere between a mewl and a fucking growl. Grabbing both your hips, he flips you around so you’re facing the wall, you palms come flying up to stop yourself from smacking face first into it. With one hand still on your hip, he uses his other hand to hold your stomach and pull you closer to him, your back arching and bending over slightly, his cock lining up perfectly along your backside. A moan slips from your lips and that just spurs him off. The hand on your stomach trails down, cupping your sex over your pants. Maker, you can feel your slick dripping down your thigh from how much this is turning you on. Distant voices pass you by, but you don’t care. Nothing else matters right now, not when Mando is holding you like this, touching you the way you thought was only possible in your daydreams.

The grip on your hip slackens, lifting your tunic just enough to expose soft skin underneath then wrapping his arm around your torso to keep you glued to him. A thumb plays with the waistband of your pants, a delicious taunt that only makes you whine with anticipation.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Mando snarls in your ear. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, the metal digging into your neck and cheek. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’re too entranced to care about anything else other than him touching you wherever he wants. You moan helplessly against him but his hand doesn’t move, just continues to graze the exposed skin near your waistband. He’s relentless, continuing his slow assault, waiting for you to find the words to speak.

“Please…” You choke out.

“Please, what?” He sneers gingerly. “You need to use your words.”

It comes as a shock just how submissive you are. You’ve always considered yourself a dominant when it came to others, but somehow Mando’s completely flipped the script on you. You aren’t in control, you can barely throw two words together without needing to catch your breath, but you’d be lying if this wasn’t the most turned on you’ve ever been in your life.

“Yes…please touch me,” You cry out, shifting your hips so you can feel his cock against your behind.

“Good girl,” He praises before dipping his hand down inside your trousers and cupping your sex. He gathers your slick around his gloved fingers and begins rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Letting out a satisfied moan, the baritone of his voice pierces through you, your pussy gushing at the sound. You moan so loudly you’re positive anyone nearby could hear you.

“Shhh,” Mando whispers into your ear as the pressure on your clit become more intense. Your body is on fire, the heat in your belly driving you to climax as his fingers continue their assault on your pussy.

There’s a faint sound of static, but you try to push it out of your memory. You don’t want him to stop, not when you’re on the verge of orgasm.

“…Mando? Mando, are you there?” A female voice pokes through the commlink on Mando’s vambrace. His movements still and an irritated sigh scratches through his helmet before he pulls his hand from your trousers, then taking a couple steps back so you can turn around to face him, leaning back into the wall awkwardly. Lifting an arm to the helmet, he presses one of the buttons on his forearm.  

“Yes, Peli?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering two seconds ago he was fucking your pussy with his hand.

“Uh… The kid is having some kind of breakdown,” The radio causes her voice to come out rough, and you can hear a little bit of a disturbance in the background. “I think he misses you and his way of telling me that to tear my hangar apart!”

“We’re on our way,” He says into his wrist, not bothering to wait for her response and heading back for the main road.

You continue to lean against the wall for a couple of seconds, trying to process how this all happened so quickly. One minute you were walking back to the Crest with Mando, then he was pulling you into an alley for what you thought was going to be the best sex of your life, and now he’s already heading back to the ship like nothing even happened.

When Mando looks over his shoulder and realizes you’re not walking behind him, he stops and waits for you. “Are you coming?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“I wish,” You mumble to yourself before kicking off the wall behind you to stand up straight. Bending over to grab the straps of your bag and throwing it over your shoulders, your feet drag as you walk, letting disappointment engulf you. This was not how you wanted the night to end.

And the walk back is…a little awkward. Neither of you speak, but you continue to walk side by side. Your arms are crossed against your chest, and you keep your eyes peeled to the ground. Every now and then, you peak upwards to get a glimpse of Mando who’s walking on your left, but his visor stays glued to what’s in front of him—his head never once turning to look down at you. It’s infuriating, really. You’re sulking, maybe even acting a little childish, but it had been weeks since you’ve been touched by another person and the one night Mando finally decides to make a move, you get rudely interrupted. Not to mention your panties are fucking soaked and the walk back is only making you more uncomfortable. Your eyes shift to Mando’s right hand and a shrewd smile smears onto your face. Your slick is on Mando gloves. That realization is enough to turn you on. Hopefully whatever the kid is up to won’t take too much time to sort out, and then maybe you two can finish your little encounter in the alley.

When you reach the hangar, you don’t see anything out of place. To be fair, Peli’s hangar is always a mess so to you, it all seems normal. Peli stands at the foot of the ramp, looking a little rougher than usual. There are specks of grease on her skin, and her curly hair sticks out in all kinds of directions.

“What the hell have you been feeding this kid since the last time I saw you?” She challenges, storming towards you both.

“I don’t…” Mando begins to say, but Peli interrupts, a hand shooting up before he can finish his sentence. “The kid was full of energy, and I mean full. He messed with my droids, did this weird little hand thing and my bolts started floating in the air!” Her arms waving around as she tells the story. “Floating! Did you know he could do that?”

Mando shifts his weight to one leg, both his hands resting on his utility belt. “Yes.”

Peli scoffs. “Well, a heads up would have been nice.”

“Where is he now?” Your tone comes out more aggressive than you intended, but given the circumstances of your relationship, you don’t believe niceties are essential.

Peli scowls at you, before turning her attention to Mando and answering the question. “I was somehow able to put him to bed while we waited for you. He’s in the ship.” Her hand coming up to point behind her towards the hull of the Crest. Mando places a hand on her shoulder—not the same one he used on you thank the maker, and thanks her sincerely. He explains to her that you were both unable to find any leads but will try again tomorrow.

He climbs the ramp to check on the kid, and you follow suit, but not before shooting giving Peli one last look, your eyes piercing into hers with invisible vibroblades. She returns the favor and turns on her heel, heading to her office.

Once inside the ship, your eyes feel unbearably heavy and the fatigue hits you all at once. In the last few days, you’ve probably only gotten eight hours of sleep—more like a series of power naps that could be considered eight hours when you bundle them all up, and now your bones ache, craving the sweet release that is rest—but first? You need a shower. To clean off all the dirt from the sand that’s passed through the air and onto your skin, and to clean up the mess that’s between your thighs.

Mando checks on the kid who is right where Peli said he was—in the cubbyhole they both sleep in. “Hey kid,” he says softly while lightly caressing the hammock he threw together for the kid to sleep in.

“I’m gonna freshen up,” You announce as you head for the fresher. Mando only tilts in your direction and tips the helmet down, giving you only the slightest indication that he understood you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get undressed in the fresher. The space is just so kriffing small, it’s a wonder how Mando is able to do it. When all your clothes are off, you toss them behind you and angle your body underneath the hose. Cool water hits your tired skin and you recoil from the sudden freezing temperature. After a few seconds though, the water warms up into a delightfully warm hug, and your tense shoulders finally relax. The water pressure is a little harsher than what you’ve gotten used to, but it feels nice on your back. It feels like a massage, pushing down on your muscles, releasing the tautness that had built up throughout the day. Looking down at the drain, you notice a red hue to the water, and your brows pull together tightly, eyes scanning your body to see where the blood could be coming from. As you begin to inspect your hands, you notice three small gashes on your left hand where your knuckles are. Your memory flashes back to the cantina where you struck that man square in the nose. A chuckle echoes in the walls of the fresher as you remember the fear smeared on his face right before you connected your fist with his nose.

Water continues to cascade on your sun-kissed skin as you grab the bar of soap resting on the ledge and begin to scrub every inch of Mos Eisley grime off your frame. Naturally, your mind wanders—as one’s mind usually does while taking a shower. Closing your eyes, you imagine the fingers tracing your skin are big, leather gloved hands instead. Dancing across your chest, goosebumps forming under your skin as the touch shifts down between your breasts, to your stomach and rests in the middle of your thighs.

You shouldn’t—you really shouldn’t do this. Not when Mando is right outside the fresher, not when he would definitelyhear you if you got yourself to come, but then again maybe you should let him hear you. The image of him hearing you moan as you bring yourself to orgasm in his fresher, his ship is enough of an incentive for you to bring your hand up to your pussy and slowly dragging your fingers between your wet folds. It doesn’t take long before your fucking soaking, slick mixed with water. Fighting the whimpers that are caught in your throat, you bite down on your bottom lip, and lean against the metal wall to steady yourself as you fuck yourself to orgasm.

Even as the sound of water masks some of obscene noises you’re making, if Mando’s still somewhere nearby, he’ll hear you. Two fingers rub against your swollen clit, and you convince yourself they’re fingers covered in brown leather. The heat in your stomach coils, your orgasm bubbling to the surface. It feels so fucking wrong and it feels so fucking right. Thank the Maker for the wall keeping you upright because your knees are quaking, the flashes of pure ecstasy making it damn near impossible to keep yourself from crying out. You’re seeing stars, the sensation starting to become too intense, you’re on the verge of coming, speeding up your rhythm so you can finally feel its sweet release. Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot pleasure punches the moan lodged in your throat, unable to catch it in time before it echoes through the walls of the fresher. There’s no way he didn’t hear that, but you really don’t give a shit.

Your hand drops to your side as your body rides out the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving and knees buckling. The steam from the water mixed with your labored breathing post-orgasm makes it way too difficult to breathe. You feel like you’re suffocating, and now that you’re fully relaxed, the exhaustion really taking its toll on you.

Grabbing the new garments you bought from one of the kind gentleman, you slip them on and push the button to open the fresher door. The cool air from the Crest is a breath of fresh air, and you let as much air fill your lungs as humanly possible, taking notice that the ship is dimly lit. You don’t immediately see any sign of Mando, so you poke your head to left, wondering if he might be with the Child. The entrance is shut, and assume that means he’s gone to sleep. You take to the ladder, and use whatever strength you have left—and it’s not much, to climb the rungs to the cockpit. Sleeping in the chair isn’t the most comfortable for your neck or back or any part of your body for that matter, but it’s the only place you think to sleep in, therefore until Mando tells you otherwise, you’ll continue to sleep in this kriffing chair.

It’s when you reach the top of the ladder that you notice the tip of chrome poking through the headrest of the pilot’s chair.

Mando.

Keeping your movements as quietly as you can in the off chance he’s sleeping, you manage to slither in your seat and really try to get comfortable, but it’s truly impossible to do that so you give up quickly and lean a little in the chair, your butt touching the edge of the seat, and your back at an angle. It’s probably worse for your back to be in this position but you refuse to sit up straight in the seat, you definitely won’t be able to sleep that way. Your arms stretch across your chest and let out a deep breath through your lips before closing your eyes.

“By the way,” A deep, rough voice cuts through the silence in the cockpit. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches in your throat, hanging onto every word Mando says. “The fresher isn’t soundproof.”

Your body sinks back into the chair, cheeks burning hot with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. There’s no point in trying to come up with a witty response, because you shamelessly wanted him to hear you. Shutting your eyes again, it’s damn near impossible to hide the devilish grin that’s smeared all over your smug face.

@1800-fight-me​ @tillytheslytherin​ @ayamenimthiriel​ 💛💛💛💛

#the Mandalorian #Din Djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #Din Djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #angst #tw: violence #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #slow burn #we are one when together #fics

[ejzah]

A/N: A post-ep fic for Signs of Change. This is very angsty and kind of a mess, so enjoy.

***

A Fork In The Road

Deeks trailed his fingers down Kensi’s bare back, feeling each dip and rise in her figure. She didn’t react, other than to shiver when he ran his index finger straight up her spine. Even without seeing her face, which was currently pillowed on his chest, he knew Kensi was mulling over the day’s events.

“The treatments really aren’t working, are they?” she murmured suddenly, surprising him. He’d assumed she was thinking about Sienna.

She sounded so tired. Demoralized. Sad. His instinct was to find a way, any way, to make those feeling go away, but he held himself back.

“Do you want the positive or realistic answer?”

“Realistic.” Kensi shifted around, resting her chin on her hands, posture subdued. She forced the barest of smiles. “You can be positive later. I’ll probably need it.”

“Then no, I don’t think they’re working,” he answered. Even though Kensi seemed to expect it, her shoulders caved as he crushed the last of her hope. Threading his fingers into her hair, he tried to infuse his touch with as much love as he could. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him, rubbing her hand over her eyes. “I asked you to be honest. It’s what I need.”

“Kens, we don’t have to talk about this now.” He hugged her even closer. He felt so ineffectual, so helpless. “And just cause I think this isn’t working, doesn’t mean I’m right. Hell, I’m not the doctor.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t want to keep giving ourselves false hope. I don’t want the inevitable heartbreak, Deeks. I can’t keep doing that to you. To us.”

“So what do you want to do?” His question was wary, hesitant.

“Well, there’s the other options we never really considered. Surrogacy and adoption,” Kensi said, reaching out to toy with his beard. There was nothing sensual about her touch. It was solely meant for comfort, maybe giving her a place to focus on as she collected her thoughts. “Whatever we do, I want us to decide together, Deeks. This time you can’t just go along with whatever I want.”

“Kens, you know I’ve always wanted to have a baby with you,” Deeks countered, stunned that she would think otherwise. Kensi touched his chest, reassuring him with the simple gesture.

“Of course I do.” She shook her head. “But you were hesitant about starting IVF from the beginning and I didn’t listen to you. This time, we need to be on the same page. I don’t want this to be a stumbling block between us.”

“Are we still talking about babies, or just me generally honest? Because I have some opinions about the decor in the master bath room-”

Kensi couldn’t quite contain a laugh, her eyes filled with fond exasperation. She kissed below his breastbone, settling on his chest again with a sigh.

“Babe, I’m serious.”

“I know,” he said, brushing her hair back. ��And you’re right. We need to make a decision, but maybe not tonight.” Kensi lifted her head again, likely to protest, and he added, “Let’s give ourselves a couple weeks to just relax. We’ve been driving ourselves crazy with IVF appointments and tracking things, let’s just take a break.”

“We’ll skip your last treatment and forget about everything related to pregnancy and babies for two weeks.”

“That sounds really nice,” Kensi said. It was evidence of just how deep her exhaustion ran, that she gave in without an argument. “Two weeks. Then we make a decision.”

“Two weeks.”

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #signs of change #angst #post-ep fic #infertility #ejzah fanfiction

[devendrasbeard]

So Good At Being In Trouble

Prompt: Touching under a table in public Relationships: Geralt/Regis Rating: M Content Warnings: PDA, just Regis being horny for his silver fox husband Summary: Long-term husbands Geralt and Regis are so in love, they can't keep their hands off of each other, even at an important meeting.

Also on ao3!

Whenever Geralt and Regis were discussing business, they went to their favourite little coffee shop, located just at the outskirts of the city. They valued their privacy so much they didn't want to invite any insurance agents or tax advisors into their home.

So they sat on the little comfortable couch in the secluded nook of the coffee shop, going through brochures and printed out Excel sheets with their financial advisor.

"As you can see, the new mortgage plan will save you up to 3k annually," the woman pointed with her pen to the summary printed on one of the papers.

"Hmm, okay," Geralt looked through the papers once again while scratching his silver beard. Regis snuck one hand under the table and squeezed his knee with affection. Geralt grabbed his hand and put it away to the empty space between their legs on the couch. He didn't even lift his head, gaze focused on the spreadsheet.

"So, if you'd like, but I would strongly recommend this, you could invest those savings. You can put them into your retirement or invest in a better life insurance plan," the woman continued.

"Okay, what would be the best option in your opinion?" Geralt asked. Regis smiled fondly at how concentrated Geralt looked, reaching under the table once again to pat his leg.

He squeezed Geralt's thigh a bit harder than before, causing him to give Regis a quick scandalised look. Regis smiled at him lightly and slid his hand a bit further up, at the same time focusing his gaze on the spreadsheets in front of him.

Geralt cleared his throat, his muscles tensing under Regis' touch. He shot him another half-angry and half-amused look, before turning back to their financial advisor. "Since we're not that young anymore, I think investing the extra money in our retirement plan would be best?"

"I think so too, I'm hoping to spend my pension years comfortably and financially well-kept," Regis added, his hand still caressing Geralt's thigh under the table. "And what are our options if we'd want to invest the money in our kids' funds?"

The woman handed him two other brochures, opening them on the topics Regis had asked about. Before he leaned in to take a closer look at the documents, Regis shot a quick glance at Geralt. His muscles tensed up visibly and he was worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Regis smiled cunningly and moved his hand another bit up Geralt's thigh.

"Regis, I beg of you," Geralt leaned in to whisper into his ear. "We're in public."

"And I love you in public just as much as in private." Regis whispered back, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

The woman, sitting across the table from them, cleared her throat before pointing to the brochures again, trying to avoid Regis' amused gaze. Geralt felt the hotness of embarrassment creep up his neck, but at the same time he felt slightly aroused under his husband's warm touch. He huffed quietly, giving the advisor an apologizing look.

"Our kids are already both in college, so I think maybe we could save a little sum for each of them, so they could have a better start into adult life?" Geralt was thinking aloud, looking directly at their advisor, doing his best to ignore Regis' hand, still wandering up his thigh under the table.

When the sneaky hand of his husband found its way to Geralt's crotch, he inhaled sharply, causing the woman to eye him carefully from the other end of their table. "I know the costs might be a little high, but it's because you're starting the fund already at an older age..." she started explaining the details of the new insurance plan to Geralt once again.

Geralt grabbed Regis' hand under the table and squeezed it, harder than necessary, placing it back in his husband's lap. "I think the new costs will be easy for us to manage," he smiled at the woman. "Can you get all the necessary documents ready?"

As the advisor noted everything in her notebook, Geralt leaned in to Regis once again. He put his fingers on his nape and pressed a little, just the way he knew Regis liked most. "Can you last ten more minutes without tormenting me?" he whispered through gritted teeth.

"Judging by your pants being suddenly too tight for your own good, I don't know if you can last those ten minutes," Regis laughed, his fingers digging into the flesh of Geralt's leg once again.

Geralt let out a heavy breath, throwing his head back with a barely audible mewl. Then his hand wandered under the table too and he caressed up Regis' thigh only to find that his husband was equally aroused by his cunning game.

The woman stood up from the table, stretching her hand out to them to say her goodbyes, eyeing them both with a suspicious look. She looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes at them. "We'll be in touch, I'll call you as soon as the paperwork's ready." They both shook her hand, snickering like teenagers the very moment she left them alone.

As soon as they left the café, Geralt's hand was already on Regis' butt, giving him a long overdue squeeze. "You're impossible," he whispered in his ear, having pushed him to lean his back on the side of their car. "You're fifty-five and yet you act like a horny teenager!" Though his face was serious, there was no sign of annoyance in Geralt's voice.

Regis laughed against his husband's mouth, kissing him deeply. "You act so surprised, as if we haven't been doing this for the past thirty years," he smiled, his hands already palming at Geralt through his pants. "Now, do we go home, or do you want to jump into the back seat with me?"

Geralt took in the sight of his husband, his slicked back silver hair, his flushed cheeks and his wrinkles-adorned fiery eyes. "Back seat it is," he decided. "I can't possibly drive us home with your hands all over me."

-----

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#witcher rarepair summer bingo #the witcher fic #geralt x regis #regis x geralt #they're in their 50s and still having the hots for each other #geregis

[agentnico]

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) Review

It all started with Sonic’s teeth. Ever since fans successfully bullied a studio into reanimating their titular hedgehog character after the abomination shown in the first trailer, fans realised that rallying together (on Twitter) can make a difference. So you’d think it would mean we could all come together to restore world peace and get rid of racism, injustice, poverty, war and negativity of all kind? Nope, nope it does not. But at least we get a better version of a bad DC movie that came out in 2017. I mean, baby steps I guess.

Plot: Fuelled by his restored faith in humanity and inspired by Superman's selfless act, Bruce Wayne enlists newfound ally Diana Prince to face an even greater threat. Together, Batman and Wonder Woman work quickly to recruit a team to stand against this newly awakened enemy. Despite the formation of an unprecedented league of heroes -- Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg and the Flash -- it may be too late to save the planet from an assault of catastrophic proportions.

I recall my younger simpler self in 2017 at the early age of 20 soon to be 21, sitting down and watching the new Justice League film with zero to no expectations, as by that point the DC Extended Universe was a trainwreck and was a franchise that was literally falling apart before out unblinking red hay fever filled eyes. However, after watching Justice League I was baffled at the fact that I still managed to be disappointed after having zero expectations! With zero expectations this film took me into the minuses, and we all know I’m not great at mathematics so boy are we in the danger zone when we hit the minuses! Looking back at my review of the film back then, I used extreme yet fitting comments like “generic”, “predictable” “messy” and plain “dogsh*t”. Which is what it was. 2017′s Justice League is exactly how I’d imagine a dog’s poop would look if it was turned into an abstract film! It was truly abysmal. After that I thought I’d never have to talk about this film again. How wrong I was. But, in a rare turn of tables, I am glad that I was wrong...

A little history lesson first. Alright, settle down kids, settle down.... Rob, put the paper plane down, do not throw it, I said DON’T THROW IT! NO! Stop! Stupid child!! Headteacher’s office right now! Also, say hi to your mother for me, okay? I’m having brunch with her on Saturday and you better not be there as you should be doing your homework watching the 4 hour cut of Justice League and questioning your life choices!! Anyway, now let’s have ourselves a history lesson. The topic is - What In The Flying Fudge Happened Behind-The-Scenes Of Justice League For DUMMIES: Condensed Edition. A really condensed version as honestly none of us have the attention span to read loads and I’m probably losing the vast majority of you due to this overlong rambling session. So anyway, to the last couple of readers left, here we go! Following the success of Man of Steel, Warner Bros. gave Zack Snyder the reigns to oversee and create a DC cinematic universe to rival the success of Marvel. And so came Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, which turned out to be a bit of a hodgepodge, receiving mixed to negative reviews and though was a box office success, earned diminishing results to what Warner Bros. originally anticipated. However, by the time Batman V Superman released, Zack Snyder was already hard at work on the big superhero team up film Justice League (which was meant to set up many characters and future films for the DCEU) with a lot of filming already underway, so Warner Bros. couldn’t particularly pump the breaks on it by that point, even though they evidently lost trust in the Snyder formula. To be honest, at that point I too lost trust in Snyder’s vision and the DCEU as a whole, but my opinion doesn’t class for a single dime, whilst the opinions of Warner Bros. executives make millions, so there aren’t any hard feelings on my behalf for them not enquiring on my thoughts. Anyway, midway through production Zack Snyder was hit with a family tragedy with his daughter committing suicide, so Snyder naturally had to depart the project to be with his family during this grieving time. Warner Bros. had the option to pause production and await for Snyder’s return, or progress at their own accord. Naturally they decided to do their own thing cause they are a business and want that dollar dollar bill baby!! So they hired Joss Whedon who was riding fresh off the success of two Avengers movies and obviously had experience in cinematic universes and such, to rework the Justice League movie by condensing it into a 2 hour film (from the over 4 hour material that Snyder shot) and reshoot scenes to fit the smaller runtime. So you cannot particularly blame Whedon for taking out so many great scenes as he had a contract to fulfil with Warner Bros, but then you look at the many forced jokes and unnecessary reshot scenes and you realise how self-indulgent Joss Whedon was during filming, as he basically was spitting on everything Snyder did and was trying to do his own thing. Low and behold, the mess that is the 2017 movie is created, where its the visions and creative minds of two director with evidently different styles clashing and not really mixing well at all, and as such we have a messy movie that doesn’t really make sense and is a bit of a middle finger to DC fans and honestly everyone and all. Also, there was that little aspect of Henry Cavill’s deformed upper lip due to the fact that during reshoots he had a moustache that he’d grown and was contractually obligated to have for his Mission Impossible role, so the visual effects team had to digitally remove it in post production and the result is, well, see for yourself...

Yes, they made the dashing handsome my-sexuality-questioning Henry Cavill look stupid, and that is UNFORGIVABLE. Funny, yes, very funny but unforgivable!! So for this and many other reasons the 2017 film turned out horribly. Then after that many months later, Zack Snyder and cast and crew members began teasing of this mythical version of the movie that was befit of Snyder’s original vision. You see, apparently before he left the project, Snyder actually filmed everything he wanted and it was only awaiting to be reworked with visual effects and edited properly, but then Whedon came in with his scissors and cut everything mercilessly with a cheeky grin and his ginger beard. Speaking of his ginger beard, is Joss Whedon Irish? Or has Irish roots? Honestly, I would Google it, but wait, I don’t think I really care. So anyway, Snyder still had all of his filmed scenes saved on his ridiculously oversized hard drive just waiting to be looked at again. This is where the fandom did its magic by creating a Twitter hashtag #ReleaseTheSnyderCut and began spam posting for Warner Bros. to let Zack Snyder release what he originally intended to. Honestly, who would have thunk it, but this actually worked!! Warner Bros. allowed this, and not only that, but gave Snyder an additional $70 million to finish up the visual effects as well as to film a couple of additional sequences and gave it the prestigious honour to debut it on HBO Max, so as to boost the subscriber rating on Warner Bros. new streaming service. And here we are.

Honestly, I thought seeing this Director’s Cut of sorts wouldn’t bring much to the table as I didn’t believe that a film that was so broken had originally been in any way good. After finishing this 4 hour Snyder vision I must admit though that I was pleasantly surprised. Completely baffled by the studio and Joss Whedon, but really happy for Zack Snyder. The guy was fighting for it and finally was able to accomplish and bring out his true original vision, and though Zack Snyder’s Justice League has its flaws, its so much better than what we got in 2017, and in fact is a soaring science fiction sci-fi epic that literally feels epic!! It takes time establishing the characters and every single plot point as well as building out this rich mythology of this world of the DC Extended Universe, and so as you move into the second half of the film, there’s a feeling of pay off. You actually care about the characters and understand the plot points and it doesn’t feel rushed. Its truly astounding that there are producers out there who thought it was a good idea to get rid of all of that and instead bring out whatever the heck Joss Whedon did with the 2017 version. Look, I quite enjoy Joss Whedon’s work, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel to Cabin in the Woods and his work on Marvel, the guy obviously has a talent, but also he obviously does not belong to the dark and brooding style of DC. Zack Snyder on the other hand, though makes his mistakes, truly embraces the epic feel of the DC material. And it seems once you give Snyder enough time and space, he can actually bring out something like this:

The main characters are all given so much more to do, or at least those that got side-lined in the 2017 version are given more to do here. One of my complaints with the original was how pointless the League turns out to be. Basically in the theatrical version the main team all end up being useless and only once Superman shows up he saves everyone’s asses and literally does EVERYTHING. Might as well have called the film Man of Steel 2 (feat. Justice League). However in this new version, every main character serves a purpose. Well most of them do at least. Cyborg and Flash are much more compelling characters with more layers and backstory, and in fact are a prime reason to defeating the great evil in the end. You now understand why Cyborg actor Ray Fisher was pissed at Joss Whedon, as the guy literally got rid of his best stuff. Superman strikes a cool black suit and is still powerful, however as the finale shows, he isn’t all-powerful and does need the help of the rest of the team. Wonder Woman gets a lot more to do in this theatrical cut, and in fact this is probably Gal Gadot’s best performance as Wonder Woman and she really shows herself as a powerful female superhero! Aquaman’s role stays largely unchanged, however to be honest Jason Momoa’s character was one of the only ones who didn’t suffer in the theatrical cut. That’s unsurprising seeing as Jason Momoa is such a naturally cool dude! A big panda that is friendly in real life, but when necessary can turn into a roaring bear. To be honest, the only League member that ends up a bit pointless is actually Batman. He still serves a purpose in the film in that he’s the one who assembles the team, but otherwise the rest of the group is so overpowered compared to him that in the end you do kind of think that he doesn’t really belong there. Still, Ben Affleck is great in the role and it’s a shame we won’t see much of him past Flashpoint film that will be released in the next few years.

There are a lot of characters in this film and one can still say the movie is overstuffed, but also seeing as the movie was originally intended to spring board the DCEU properly, all these teases are actually welcome. There are an abundance of cameos, and to be honest so many characters are so well cast that you do end up wishing that Snyder was given the opportunity to make his entire Justice League planned trilogy, but nevertheless at least we have this. There are truly an abundance of cool appearances here, from the menacing villain Darkseid (played by Ray Porter) to Willem Dafoe doing what Dafoe does best, only in this case underwater and I’m certain that’s gonna span many comparison memes with The Lighthouse. Joe Morton as Cyborg’s dad is given a lot more to do here and in fact is pivotal towards building up Cyborg into the important character that he is. There’s also a cameo from Jared Leto’s Joker, who in some ways redeems himself after his appearance in Suicide Squad. Also, we need to talk about Steppenwolf, who’s the main baddie in this film. In the theatrical cut the guy was the most generic one-note villain who also looked like a PS2 character. It was honestly embarrassing the way he was animated. Luckily in this version he’s been put through enough Skyrim mods to looks much more intimidating and is also given a better motivation. As we find out, the reason he does what he does is because he wants to go home. He’s been banished and he simply wants to earn his place back home, so it’s actually kind of sweet. Steppenwolf is a sweetie. I mean, yeah, he wants to destroy half of the world to fulfil his dream, but hey, haven’t we all taken something extreme measures to get what we want?

The film is far from perfect though. At the end of the day, the movie is just about a guy hunting down a bunch of magical boxes. That was the premise of the theatrical cut and its the same here too. Yes, there is more substance and gravitas to the proceedings, but at the end of the day the story doesn’t really surprise much. And with the entire thing running at 4 hours, it is definitely too long and there is the element where there is simply too much in this thing. Also visually, though the movie has plenty of gorgeous shots and Zack Snyder’s signature slow motion sequences are on full display here, there are still many sequences where the CGI and green screen are super obvious and look really fake. That being said there’s still so much visual goodness in this, and also I have to mention Junkie XL’s new music score that does reiterate the epic feel of this movie, in comparison to Danny Elfman’s weak uninspiring notes in the theatrical cut.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League is a massive surprise and completely changes the perception of what we saw in the original 2017 theatrical cut. It’s a sprawling massive adventure that’s a dream come true for any comic book fan. It shows how vital film editing is, and how important it is to have a cohesive plan when making a movie. Gone too are the silly forced jokes, and though there is still some humour here, it feels more grounded and fit of the setting and scenario. This is Snyder’s vision through and through, and though at times it is clunky, it overall is incredible to behold, as it’s this one guy’s mind and his love for the DC lore. It’s a credible achievement, and I’m actually sentimentally happy for Snyder that he finally managed to complete this. He even during the credits dedicates this to his daughter Autumn that passed away, and I found that to be truly bittersweet. Justice has indeed been served.

Overall score: 7/10

#zack snyder's justice league #restore the snyderverse #release the snyder cut #zack snyder #joss whedon #justice league #dc comics #warner bros #hbo max #zack snyder's justice league review #justice league review #superhero #ben affleck #henry cavill #jason momoa #ezra miller #gal gadot #amy adams #ray porter #ciaran hinds #jeremy irons #2021 #2021 in film #2021 films #movie #film #movie reviews #film reviews #batman #superman

[bcacstuff]

I fear bcac, some of your anons are new and are having temper tantrums! SH has said many a word to journalists over the years that he missed her greatly and " he wanted to push the relationship" to see where it would go. Was is all *shit or just using her as he has all these years to be a beard who really never wanted any job but co star and friend? Who really knows, but your anons are clearly over the top and seem to have an agenda!

I don’t know what’s in the air tonight or today. I just read a complete drama enfolding on shipper side. People are too emotional invested in this, seriously. 

It’s okay to have opinions about something, but let’s try to keep it reasonable. If you can’t do that, then I suggest you just take a step back and try to take a break for a month or so. Find some other things to invest your time in and try to have fun with it. Cause that’s how I have my blog here. I’m okay with opinions, discuss them. I’m not okay with all these OTT reactions. Try to balance your thoughts a bit, don’t go off on a single sentence in a post. Don’t put emphasis on just a word or a sentence. Try to see the bigger picture, and approach it with the necessary grain of salt and a good doses of humor. 

And just to prevent another flood of messages about some sentences in these Anons posts: These are Anons opinions, not necessarily mine, I don’t support all of it, perhaps some of it. It’s up for discussion in a respectful way, meaning no accusations or name calling. Just try to be open to other opinions, and if it is not your cup of tea, you always have the option to just scroll by. Much healthier for you heart and blood pressure.

[mrsjadecurtiss]

Jade I had a fucking mind blown. We always see the Roose’s betrayal always to the Cat prospective but...I have a though. What if in Roose’s mind he did it because he was sure Robb was gonna lose and so acted in consequence to preserve his life? Sure he did it also to obtain the rule of the north BUT the main reason would be to save his life. That wouldn’t justify the betrayal but it would make a bit more tragic his character. And it would also explain his anxiety at the wedding, like if he had to force himself to do something he usually doesn’t do (exposing himself). But he has to do it to save his life.

Hi, thank you for the question! :)

I do not think Roose was in any danger for his life or believed himself to be in such danger prior to the Red Wedding.

Grrm himself says that even until the Jaime chapter that comes before the Red Wedding, Roose was on the fence of whether it would be more beneficial to take part in the Red Wedding or stay loyal to Robb. I have some speculation about what we can guess about his motivations in this post.

As for Bolton, if you reread all his sections carefully, I think you will see a picture of a man keeping all his options open as long as he could... sniffing the wind, covering his tracks, ready to jump either way... even as late as his supper with Jaime at Harrenhal... - Grrm, SSM August 23 2000

While Robb was a losing cause, the disadvantage this poses to Roose is mostly that he is wasting his men and ressources; after all winter is coming and he needs his men back home for the harvest. Roose’ general modus operandi during the war was to keep his own losses small, and try to gain profit when possible like weakening his rival houses (sabotaging his allies at times, for example at the Green Fork or Duskendale). On the other hand, there was a lot to gain with the support of the Lannisters (see again the post i linked above).

 " Perhaps I ought to make a wedding gift of you to Edmure Tully . . . or strike your head off, as your sister did for Eddard Stark. [...] A thousand leagues of mountain, sea, and bog lie between my walls and your rock. Lannister enmity means little to Bolton." - "Lannister friendship could mean much." Jaime thought he knew the game they were playing now. - Jaime V, aSoS

As an important Lord, Roose is not directly in danger during the war unless he decides to actually fight in battle, and we know he tries his best to keep safe:

Though Roose had been in battles, he bore no scars. - Reek II, aDwD

The only way he could lose [at the Green Fork] would be if [he] were captured or slain himself, and he did his best to minimize the chances of that. - Grrm, SSM February 2 2001

As we can see with Lords like Wylis Manderly and Greatjon Umber, the enemy prefers to take people of high status hostage, so they can be ransomed or used as political leverage. Even in cases where someone is injured in battle they are usually taken back and get their wounds treated, so they can be ransomed or otherwise made use of later.

Lord Tywin offered White Harbor full pardon for our support of the Young Wolf. He promised that my son would be returned to me once I paid a ransom of three thousand dragons and proved my loyalty beyond a doubt. - Davos II, aDwD

The Umbers have no love for the Boltons. If Whoresbane has joined the Bastard, it can only be because the Lannisters hold the Greatjon captive." - Jon IV, aDwD

One fat lordling [Wylis] haunted the kitchens, Hot Pie told her, always looking for a morsel. [...] He belonged to Lord Tywin, but the fierce, bearded young man who liked to walk the battlements alone in a black cloak patterned with white suns had been taken by some hedge knight who meant to get rich off him. [...] She did remember Lord Cerwyn, though. [...] Yet as fate would have it, he was the only captive who was never seen; he was abed in a tower cell, recovering from a wound. - Arya VII, aCoK

The lords who die are the ones who risk their lives directly fighting in battle (like Karstark’s sons who died fighting Jaime). Lords like Wyman Manderly who sit back and dont partake in war are dealt with through hostages and other political arrangements, and are demanded to prove loyalty.

"It is being common-born that is dangerous, when the great lords play their game of thrones," said Septon Meribald. "Isn't that so, Dog?" - Brienne VII, aFfC

Generally, Roose seemed to have been of the opinion that it would be smarter for Robb to bend the knee, but the way he states it is annoyance, not fear.

“King Robb must make his peace with the Lannisters. He must put off his crown and bend the knee, little as he may like it." - "And who will tell him so?" Roose Bolton smiled. - Arya X, aCoK

"Won every battle, while losing the Freys, the Karstarks, Winterfell, and the north. A pity the wolf is so young. Boys of sixteen always believe they are immortal and invincible. An older man would bend the knee, I'd think. After a war there is always a peace, and with peace there are pardons... for the Robb Starks, at least. Not for the likes of Vargo Hoat." Bolton gave him a small smile. - Jaime V, aSoS

#asoiaf #roose bolton #asoiaf meta #asks #Anonymous