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zurajanaizurakoda · 2 years ago

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A Villain With a Redemption Arc is Sometimes Still Just a Villain

Mature

Takazura NC Ginzura C

7285 words

non consensual/graphic depictions of violence/animal death/implied sex/explicit sex/implied rape/angst/series appropriate violence/canon major character death/child on child violence (non sexual)/hurt comfort/hurt no comfort/hurt with attempts at comfort/kids in a war/non consensual haircuts/healing/crossdressing/explicit language/sociopath Takasugi Shnsuke/top Takasugi Shinsuke/switch Gintoki Sakata/switch Katsura Kotarou/I’m trying to tag for everything I can think of/does anyone actually want this fic

In which Takasugi is a kid who breaks his toys and Katsura unfortunately fits his definition of a toy and Gintoki just doesn’t like to see Katsura hurt. A very messy TakaZuraGin triangle with a surprisingly fluffy GinZura ending. Starts at Shoka Sonjuku and goes past the end of of The Very Final.

---

It happens the first time a few days after they join the school. Gintoki doesn’t get how things happened, really, they kind of showed up on their own and made themselves at home. The one with purple hair is an exceptional asshole, he’s known that since before they joined, but the one with long hair is a total enigma. All Gintoki knows about Kazura (Hashira? Something he can’t be bothered to remember) is that, like Gintoki, the kid is an orphan with no ties to the world, and unlike Gintoki, he’s got a talent for books that sets him apart from the rest of the class. Gintoki can’t tell if the kid is a genius or an idiot, but he keeps to himself and seems to have a sadness that Gintoki somehow wishes he could help with. Sensei saved him, he can help Zurrachi.

But anyway, it’s a few days after they get there that Gintoki sees it first. Katsuma is talking to one of the girls, probably about nothing, when suddenly Asshole stalks out of nowhere. Makes a beeline for the two, marches straight up to Long Hair, grabs a big handful, and pulls hard. Lots of people tug at his hair, it’s playing, but this is different. This is intended solely to hurt, badly. The kid stumbles, his head pulled back so he’s forced to look at The Jerk, and they stare at each other for a few seconds. Long hair glares. Asshole glares worse. Then Asshole lets go and walks off like nothing happened. Long Hair watches him leave, confusion on his face, and then goes to fix his ponytail without a comment. There was no need for that, Gintoki thinks, and feels a strange feeling that’s not quite pity. He almost goes up to the boy, but doesn’t. They don’t know each other. Those two probably won’t stay long, they’re used to nicer stuff than this.

It’s about a year later that the next thing happens. Zura (It’s Katsura, Gintoki knows that now, but hell if he’ll say it, that’s an old man’s name and Zura is no old man, even though he acts like one occasionally) has been taking care of a young bird he found out in the garden. Its wing is broken, and Sensei helped him set it right. He’s been so careful, scrounging for food and making sure to keep the box warm at night, and the bird seems to be improving. It’s sort of sweet, Gintoki guesses, and is sort of glad that the weird kid has a hobby besides studying. He doesn’t offer to help, but he finds himself keeping tabs on the box when Zura is busy.

So the next morning when the box is missing, he feels some of the panic Zura feels. Offers to help him search the entire school, the surrounding grounds. Neither of them finds anything, and Gintoki feels terrible when he sees the tears in the corners of Zura’s eyes. He wishes he could do something.

That afternoon, the bird shows up lifeless on the porch. It looks like its neck is broken.

Takasugi did it, Gintoki knows it, doesn’t know how he knows. Wonders if Zura knows, considers telling him, thinks better of it. He has no proof. He offers to help Zura bury his pet, but Zura wants to do it himself. He doesn’t cry, he cried while they were looking but now that it’s over he just seems sullen and resigned. Gintoki watches him from a nearby tree and feels something confusing. Not just sadness, but another feeling that seems to be specific to when he thinks of Zura. He gets in a fight with Takasugi later that afternoon, lets his fists a little looser than he normally would. It doesn’t help.

It’s not that Zura doesn’t think, Gintoki realizes eventually, it’s just that his thoughts go around in a different way, and sometimes something strange comes out. They’re Zura thoughts, and they’re not really right or wrong, they’re just different. Sensei seems to understand him best, and Zura is never happier than when he’s prattling on with Sensei about things no one else can seem to comprehend. His smile makes those weird Zura-specific feelings come back sometimes, but it’s warm and happy, not like the twisted ones when Zura gets hurt.

Hair-pulling is something boys do when they like someone and don’t know what to say, one of the girls tells him, and if that’s true then Takasugi must have a mountain of Zura feelings bouncing around in him. One day he sees Takasugi pull Zura’s hair so hard it drags him to the ground after Zura says something a little strange but inoffensive. He punches Takasugi right in his stupid face, and they both get in trouble. Zura brings him an onigiri while he’s in time out, but doesn’t bring one for Takasugi. He likes that.

Zura fights back sometimes, but he never returns violence with violence, and he never goes to Sensei with his problems. Gintoki thinks Sensei might have a suspicion, though, he seems to develop a sixth sense for appearing out of nowhere when Takasugi gets in one of his moods. Takasugi never acts up when Sensei is there, Sensei seems to calm that part of Takasugi that makes him a total asshole. Gintoki just wishes the effect didn’t wear off so quickly.

He hears a rumor a few months later. Someone says that Takasugi kissed Zura that afternoon, back by the river. Neither of them confirm it or deny it, but it sounds about right. Gintoki feels Zura feelings and begrudgingly hopes they’re happy. Sensei doesn’t say anything, but that night he rearranges the sleeping arrangements. Zura’s futon is no longer next to Takasugi’s, but across the hall, with Gintoki. Gintoki doesn’t like that, he hates the way Zura sleeps with his eyes open, but it seems a little weird that Sensei separated them. Maybe he thinks they’re too young for these things. If the kissing continues, Gintoki doesn’t hear about it. Zura seems his usual, spacey self. They certainly don’t act like a couple. Gintoki wonders again if Takasugi feels Zura feelings, assumes he does, and wonders why they don’t make him want to be nicer to Zura.

The night Sensei is taken, Takasugi flips his shit. Gintoki almost misses it because the world is fucking ending, but by the light of the fire he sees Takasugi go for Zura’s hair, pull him back until he’s almost bent in half, and punch him directly in the face. “You did nothing!” he screams. “You just let them take Sensei!” Zura was definitely crying before the punch, but he says nothing, just raises his arms to protect from further assault. Takasugi pauses, screams in anger, and goes for another punch. The second punch is worse, and they’re kids, they’re not too strong, but Zura is bleeding heavily from the nose as Takasugi lines up another punch. Before Gintoki can even think, he’s by their side, pulling Takasugi off the other boy.

“No one could do anything!” he screams, pushing Takasugi to the ground. Takasugi looks into his eyes, and there’s murder there. He stands, and Gintoki moves instinctively to keep him from getting to Zura. “It’s not his fault! The hell’s your problem?!” Takasugi says nothing, just glares, and they both know there’s no reason for it. Takasugi has something fucking in him for Zura, and Gintoki doesn’t know what it is, but he doesn’t like it. He briefly remembers the kiss they might have shared, and doesn’t wish them happiness at all. He wishes Takasugi would keep his fucking hands to himself. Behind them, Zura fixes his ponytail, crying quietly. He doesn’t say anything.

Gintoki catches them one day years later, while they’re supposed to be practicing. Takasugi has Zura pinned against a tree, a big handful of Zura’s hair like usual, and they’re kissing deep. Not the crush way, the lover way. Zura’s grabbing the tree tightly with both hands like he’s afraid his legs will give out. When they see him, they draw apart. Zura’s face is red as he turns, fixing his hair. Takasugi stares directly at Gintoki, and he hates it. The Zura feelings are back, churning his stomach, and he almost calls out. “Why this asshole? You deserve better.” But Zura is hurrying back to camp, and after a few moments Takasugi follows him. Gintoki goes for a walk, burying his thoughts and feelings. That night he moves his futon next to Zura’s, forget the weird wide-eyed sleeping. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself. This is wrong.

He doesn’t catch them again, and they still don’t act like a couple. Zura still spends most of his time alone, studying. He’s smart, Gintoki knows now, even if he can be a complete idiot and has terrible taste in men. He brings Zura tea and waits to see if Zura wants to talk about his interruption, but Zura wants to study.

It’s not until the war that he gets the next bad feeling. Takasugi and Zura left scouting in different directions, but they came back together. Not really together together, but close enough they had to be aware of each other. Zura is breathing a little heavily, his clothes look a bit disheveled for a scouting mission. His hair is a mess, Gintoki realizes, and he hasn’t bothered to fix it. He’s usually more careful about that. Not just the Zura feelings but the this-is-wrong feelings are back in full swing. Takasugi goes off on his own, Zura goes to his tent. When he comes back out, he’s perfectly composed, no sign of distress. He excuses himself to go to the planning tent. On impulse, Gintoki grabs him by the shoulder, turns him to face him. Zura’s eyes go a little wide, but he says nothing.

“You deserve better,” he says, and feels disgusted with himself. Zura just stares at him, those narrow brown eyes incomprehensible, and then turns away. He wonders if he’d feel the same way if he didn’t want to kiss Zura too. He’s pretty sure that he would. They never speak of it again.

But it happens again. Not often, but it does. The sight of Zura’s hair messed up in his ponytail gets Gintoki riled up and he doesn’t know why. No, he does know exactly why. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.

Zura is off limits. The new recruits often notice him, but he’s spoken for. Everyone knows it, although no one knows quite how this knowledge is passed. Zura spends most of his time alone, but sometimes when he’s not alone Gintoki notices Takasugi herding him off, keeping him separate. Zura never joins the fireside for drinks after a battle, always goes straight to his tent. Takasugi doesn’t even seem to want to spend the time together, he seems to just hate seeing Zura with others. Gintoki’s not sure if it’s because of whatever the fuck their relationship is, or that part of Takasugi that just breaks Zura’s toys to hurt him, but it’s wrong. He wonders how things got this way. Sakamoto and him are the only ones who seem allowed to socialize with Zura outside of meetings and training, but Zura’s still spacey and often thinking Zura thoughts when he’s not reading.

The hair pulling should have gone away with childhood, but it doesn’t. If anything, it gets worse. One day, in the middle of a meeting, there’s an argument about tactics. Takasugi wants blood, Zura wants safety for the troops. Neither is backing down, and the air is thick with tension, when suddenly Takasugi grabs a handful of the black hair and slams Zura’s head into the table at full force. He holds it there, that look he gets sometimes that’s just seething hate, until the feeling passes, and then he turns and leaves without comment. Zura’s fine, he’s always had the strongest forehead of anyone Gintoki’s met, but the glare he throws at Takasugi’s back as he fixes his ponytail definitely isn’t that of a lover. Zura continues his presentation like nothing happened, and his plan is ultimately chosen. Lives are probably saved. Zura knows he deserves better, Gintoki thinks, and it somehow brings him some relief. Gintoki brings him a bottle of pocari chilled to sherbert consistency and waits for a while to see if he wants to talk, but he doesn’t.

Zura is a genius at getting information. No one knows his methods, but he’s become a lead at intel. He likes costumes, goes out in weird outfits sometimes. One day he comes back to camp in a full western dress, complete with high heels, fuck knows where he got them. He walks well in them, even on the uneven ground of the camp. It makes him walk differently, swaying his hips a little. Gintoki doesn’t know if he likes it or not, but he follows Zura to his tent, transfixed. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Takasugi watching him as well, and when their eyes meet, Takasugi pulls his lips back in a sneer. Gintoki hates that. Hates it so much. He finds reason to hang out around Zura’s tent until he comes back out in regular dress, happily showing Gintoki the small, round bombs he’s managed to steal from an enemy supplier. His sleeves are full of them. Gintoki feels the happy Zura feeling for the first time in a while.

—

It’s another night, deep into the war, when everything breaks. They’re making their way back to camp separately after a battle, each on their own, when Gintoki hears it. “No! Shinsuke, no.” He didn’t realize they were so close, just beyond some bushes. He definitely didn’t realize they were together. He turns, and through the leaves he sees Takasugi grab the other man by the hair like he always does, dragging him into a clearing, out of Gintoki’s sight. Hand on his sword, Gintoki follows them, praying it’s not what it looks like. It can’t be what it looks like. Zura would have said something. Zura would have said something to him, right? His mind is suddenly going through a hundred conversations, trying to find a moment when he’d given Zura a reason not to come to him. He trips on some roots, but the other two are apparently too locked in conversation to hear him crashing around. He stumbles to his feet, cursing time lost.

“No!” Zura repeats again, forcefully. “It’s a fucking battlefield, Shinsuke. Have some respect for the dead.”

There’s a sneer in Takasugi’s voice. “You’ve always got to find something to bitch about.”

“I feel disgusting. I’ve been fighting since morning. No.”

“You’ve got a mouth, haven’t you? Don’t go getting prissy on me now, Zura. Be useful for a change.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Ka-!” there’s the sound of a heavy slap, and Zura must be going to the ground. Zura’s a fighter, it takes a lot to throw him around. Gintoki’s blood has been boiling for the whole conversation, but his vision goes red. He rounds the corner to confront them.

Zura is on his knees, glaring at Takasugi. His cheek is bright red and his hand is on the hilt of his sword, although he makes no effort to draw it. Takasugi has his hand in Zura’s hair as usual, a big heavy fistful, and he’s holding Zura to his knees, close to his crotch. Zura notices him first. “Ginto-” he stops as the fist yanks him painfully, as Takasugi looks up.

“The fuck is this.” Gintoki hisses, drawing his sword. The hair on his arms is standing on end.

“None of your fucking business, Sakata.” Takasugi drawls it out, like he merely interrupted a private conversation, but he throws Zura back to the ground. Again, it’s not easy, it takes a lot of rage and muscle to throw the man and it must be fucking hell on his hair roots. Gintoki finally has a solid image of how Zura’s hair ends up so tangled, and he’s furious. Takasugi’s sword is out, and his stance tightens when he realizes that Gintoki’s out for blood. “Keep your nose out of things, Silver.” They size each other up for a second. In the back of his mind, Gintoki again wonders if Takasugi ever felt anything for Zura except the need to break, to destroy. His blood rushes in his ears. Zura gets to his feet.

“Gintoki, don’t-!” It’s Zura’s plea for peace, of all things, that breaks his fury. He swings at Takasugi, going straight for his heart. Takasugi sidesteps, parries, thrusts. They’ve fought before, even with live blades, but this is different. There’s no camaraderie, no sport. This is life or death. He takes a deep cut to the arm, screams, charges. Zura tries to get between them. Gintoki gets Takasugi in the side, turns his sword, goes for the throat. Zura’s sword is drawn, but there’s not much he can do. He calls again for an end.

Gintoki is disarmed, and for a second it’s over, it’s all over, but he’s too fucking furious to die here and he launches himself at Takasugi, sword and all. Knocks them both over. Catches Takasugi off guard, straddles his chest, punches him full in the face. Keeps punching as the blood spreads everywhere. He’s going to obliterate that stupid fucking face, punch it until there’s nothing left, no skin, no bone. He feels arms around his chest and almost takes a swing at Zura in his fury. He’s dragged back. “Fucking hell, Zura, let me go!” he screams, thrashing to get back to his prey. Zura is strong, as strong as either of them, and he pulls Gintoki off. Gintoki screams in frustration.

“We need him! We need him!” Zura’s voice suddenly reaches him, and it’s such a fucking Zura response that it breaks him out of his stupor. He looks at Zura, numb and broken. “We need him,” Zura repeats, his eyes averted. “He’s the best general we have. His troops are unstoppable.”

“Fucking Zura…” he breathes, heart pounding in his chest, feelings screaming in his stomach. “He…” he can’t find the words. “He hurt you.” he finally says.

“You think I don’t know that?” Zura replies, quiet and unknowable. He doesn’t release his grip on Gintoki. “We can’t have infighting like this, Gintoki. We need to remain united.”

“How long? How fucking long?!” Gintoki yells, turning and grabbing Zura by the shoulders. “How long has he been-” he stops, teeth clenched.

Zura’s silence speaks volumes. It’s always been like this, Gintoki realizes, there was no puppy love, no romance that went sour. Because Zura always knew he deserved better and Takasugi never fucking cared. It’s always been Takasugi claiming what he thought was his, breaking for the sake of breaking. Because whatever fucking beast got into him that sends him after Zura is always howling, be it for blood or otherwise. And Zura, gods bless him, is just trying to make the best of a fucking terrible situation. Maybe still trying to play the peacekeeper. He thinks back to the day he found them kissing and wishes desperately he had killed Takasugi then.

Takasugi groans behind them. He’s done, he’s barely conscious, and Gintoki turns to him. Picks up his sword, fully intending to thrust it directly into Takasugi’s bastard heart.

And then Zura is between them, sword in hand. “We need him, Gintoki.” he repeats. “Please, don’t make me do this. We have few enough men as it is.” he shifts, feet going into an attack stance, and Gintoki knows he’s serious. He’s dangerous. “Don’t make me do this,” he repeats, voice wavering. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Zura!!”

“It’s not Zura,” Zura hisses, “It’s Katsura.” he’s not backing down.

Gintoki goes through a thousand emotions at once. He lets out a strange whine, finding no words. Zura hesitantly lowers his sword slightly, steps forward. His face is conflicted, like he’s seeking approval, god knows what for. Zura’s been through fucking hell, he probably doesn’t want to lose his one real friend.

Gintoki grabs him by the wrist and runs.

“Gintoki, wait! Gintoki-” Zura trips after him.

He won’t allow it. He can see Zura on his knees, treating Takasugi, washing the blood from his face, bandaging him with strips of his clothing. Playing the goddamn peacekeeper because he doesn’t know how else to live. He can’t take that, Gintoki knows. He’ll go insane if Zura nurses the man from the wounds he got trying to hurt him. He doesn’t stop running, doesn’t listen to Zura until they’re at his tent, safely back at camp. He stops there and lets go of Zura’s wrist, and stands there uselessly, not sure what to say. They both stand there, catching their breath.

Zura finally meets his eyes, seems to have questions, decides not to ask them. He enters the tent without complaint and lights his lantern. Through the fabric, Gintoki can see him sit at his trunk of belongings, combing his hair back into place like it’s any other night. He reads before going to sleep. Gintoki feels sick, feels furious, feels lost. The Zura feelings are choking him and he doesn’t know what to do. He sleeps outside of Zura’s tent that night.

Takasugi stumbles back into camp the next day like he’s drunk. They fight again, but there’s no teeth to it, it’s just going through the motions. Sakamoto breaks them up, and Gintoki makes sure to eat dinner with Zura, although they don’t talk. He moves his tent next to Zura’s that afternoon, not really knowing what he’s doing. Something has changed, something they can’t get back. He just doesn’t want to see Zura hurt.

“I don’t hate him,” Zura says out of the blue one day, while they’re scouting. He says it like they’re discussing the weather, and it takes a minute to realize who he’s referring to. “I don’t like him, but I don’t hate him. It’s complicated,” he drinks a can of Pocari. Gintoki grunts, not knowing what to say at first.

“I hate him,” he announces. “I’ll hate him enough for the both of us. I’ll kill that fucker one day.”

Zura turns to him. “Do you… hate me?” he finally asks. He’s thinking Zura thoughts, as usual, and he seems troubled in a way only Zura can be. He makes eye contact, a rarity these days, and his eyes are full of secret conflict.

Gintoki snarls, goes through a levy of emotions. Draws Zura into a hug before he realizes he’s doing it. “Like I could ever hate you, you idiot,” he breathes, looking into the deep brown eyes. Zura is still thinking, he doesn’t know what about, and he wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted anything but he doesn’t know how to ask and he doesn’t want to take, so he kisses Zura’s dumb forehead gently through the thick bangs and then releases him. Zura continues watching him until he turns and goes back to camp alone. Another understanding passes between them, though he’s not quite sure what it is, and Zura stops acting like he’s walking on eggshells around him. Gintoki is silently grateful.

It doesn’t happen again, at least Gintoki doesn’t think it does, and he’s been keeping an eye out for it now. He finds reasons to stay with Zura, even when they’re fighting. Every time he sees Zura’s hair disheveled, bile rises in his throat, even when he knows it’s not Takasugi’s handiwork. Takasugi continues to fight like a demon, his favorite distraction taken from him. He doesn’t confront them, although sometimes Takasugi looks at Zura and it makes Gintoki furious. He hates how cold the eyes are. Takasugi’s never felt fucking Zura feelings in his fucking life.

He’ll kill that fucker someday.

But they’re all Shouyou’s students on the hillside, and he can feel Takasugi’s pain when he howls for their master. He unties Takasugi first, gods know why. He’s hurt badly, he needs to punch Gintoki. Gintoki gets it, he really does. A few punches will do wonders for him.

Takasugi pushes him out of the way and goes straight for Zura who’s still on the ground, still bound. “This is your fucking fault!” he screams, his voice as broken as it was when he was yelling for Gintoki to stop. “You were the one that got captured! We were rescuing you!” he grabs a huge fistful of Zura’s hair and pulls him to his knees, drawing his sword. “This is your fucking fault!” Zura doesn’t react.

He’s going to kill Zura, Gintoki thinks, heart in his throat. Takasugi’s going to fucking kill Zura and I’m going to kill him and this whole fucking thing will have been for nothing. It’s his own fucking fault, he knows fucking Takasugi has it in for Zura, what the fuck was he thinking?! He killed sensei for this! But as he raises, drawing his sword, running to help, his mind already focusing on losing the last two people he knows in the world, Takasugi pulls back harder and draws his blade through Zura’s long, beautiful hair.

The ponytail comes off in his hand, and Zura falls back to the ground, his face covered by his now short hair. He doesn’t struggle, doesn’t even move. Takasugi stands up, throws the ponytail on the ground and spits. Gintoki doesn’t know why he did it. Likely Takasugi himself doesn’t know. He’s just always had it in for fucking Zura, breaking things just to have them broken. There’s something strangely intimate and violating in the action, something very Takasugi about it. He’s always gone for Zura’s hair and now he’s taken it all. Gintoki still rises, puts himself bodily between the two men in case Takasugi isn’t done yet.

But something has changed, something in Takasugi has snapped, even more than it had been. His beast has grown too savage to be quelled by Zura’s blood, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When Takasugi speaks, he addresses Zura, not him. “You’re no samurai. You’re fucking dirt. You’re nothing.” he snarls. “Don’t ever show your face before me again.” he storms off.

Gintoki stays, unties Zura, who looks strange and somehow vulnerable with his hair shorn short and uneven. Zura doesn’t cry, still does nothing. He thanks Gintoki blankly, looks at the handful of his hair like he’s debating picking it up, and then turns to go back to camp without it. Gintoki follows and hates himself.

Zura goes back to camp to stay, goes back to his position, back to his job. Gintoki sticks around for a few days, just to make sure Takasugi Isn't coming back. He’s not. His reasons for staying are gone. Zura evens out his hair, but it’s still a reminder of things they lost. There’s not enough for even a small ponytail, and he seems unanchored, his hands twitching to the short strands often. There’s a loss there he’s still processing, both tangible and intangible. Zura thoughts. They don’t discuss Sensei. They don’t really talk at all. Sakamoto has been gone for a while now. Zura seems to spend a lot of time thinking Zura thoughts, and Gintoki suspects that those thoughts are bad. It’s not something he can help with.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the day he leaves, his few possessions on his back.

“I’m sorry too,” Zura says before turning back to camp. That’s what a general does. The war is effectively over, but a general doesn’t abandon his troops.

They don’t see each other for ten years.

—

Gintoki isn’t surprised at all to see Zura’s a terrorist, he’s seen the wanted posters the last few years, hasn’t he? Zura’s buried hundreds, maybe thousands of comrades over the years, and it obviously still affects him deeply. He’s still a goddamn general, lost war and all. Gintoki is actually a little surprised that Zura specifically seeks him out, he figures he’s nothing but a very bad memory. He tries to talk some sense into Zura, tries to get him to put down his unmanageable burden, and isn’t surprised when Zura bristles in response.

He is surprised again when Zura remains in his world, albeit the very furthest reaches. When Zura helps him rescue what he's begrudgingly beginning to see as his children. He gets a massive space duck, of all things, and somehow that seems to mellow him out. The duck seems to be able to keep up with his weirdest thoughts the way no one but Sensei has, and they’re a dangerous pair but Gintoki’s glad he has a hobby that’s not twisting the knife in his own back.

The Zura feelings still bubble up occasionally, and sometimes, especially when Zura is being particularly silly, he’s surprised to find he still wants to kiss the man. And sometimes, especially when Zura is being particularly silly, he gets a strange feeling that Zura wants to kiss him too. He doesn’t act on it, doesn’t believe either of them ever will, but it’s nice.

He wonders idly what the duck would say.

Gintoki goes crazy when he sees the hair in Nizou’s hand, sees him rub it against his face. He knows Zura isn’t dead, he can’t be, Zura’s gone through worse shit than this. Gintoki has seen Zura’s intestines peeking through a slash in his stomach, prayed to gods he didn’t believe in, and grieved for the loss of his friend, and Zura has gotten better. Zura’s alive somewhere, and he’s been savaged again. Something’s been taken from him. He’s probably alone, and Gintoki wishes he could be wherever that is. He swings at Nizou blindly, he fights on instinct, he doesn’t really realize how badly he’s injured until the fight is over. Zura is alone out there somewhere alone, while Gintoki’s friends care for him.

Then Zura’s on the boat, and he’s injured, but he holds his head high and his sword steady. Gintoki knows something has transpired between him and Takasugi again, but it doesn’t seem to rest heavy on Zura’s shoulders. They fight back to back for the first time in ten years, and Gintoki realizes he knows the familiar footwork like it was yesterday. He’s hurt badly, but he’s enjoying himself. He wonders briefly if Takasugi ordered his minion to take Zura’s hair, or if there’s just something about massive assholes and Zura’s topknot. Zura doesn’t seem as bothered this time and Gintoki is just glad to see him in one piece.

Zura jumps off the boat, and Gintoki follows him, not quite sure what his plan is. It doesn’t seem quite as stupid before he realizes they’re hundreds of feet above the water. He clings to Zura for dear life and wonders if this is the end.

Then a parachute opens, and they’re gliding. He continues his death grip on Zura as they float to the water. Zura talks to him, words tearing away in the wind, something about their books from school. Gintoki’s is gone. He’s not surprised that Zura still has his. Zura doesn’t let go easily.

They reach the ground, and Gintoki is slow to let go of Zura. They’re both alive, against all odds, and he hasn’t felt this weird rush in years. The parachute ride only seemed to intensify the feeling, and literally clinging to Zura’s body for several minutes has had an effect on him. Zura’s hands are on his shoulders, but he’s not pushing him off. They stay that way for a while.

The Zura feelings are stronger than they’ve been since the war, and Gintoki doesn’t fight them, just lets them flow through his body. He runs his fingers through Zura’s cropped hair and catches his breath, feels Zura’s chest heaving against his. He still doesn’t know how to ask and he still doesn’t want to take, but when Zura pulls him closer their lips meet and something breaks and he’s clawing, grasping desperately for Zura, who holds him tight. They kiss like they’re fighting, rough and needy, and nothing’s felt this right since before the war, since they were somewhat innocent kids against a heartless fucking world.

They make love for the first time in the rocks by the harbor, smelling of blood and sea breeze, loving and hurting and feeling, and it’s awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s wonderful. He loves the noises Zura makes, the way he moves against him, the obvious need in his actions. The tired smile Zura gives him at the end is amazing.

They don’t spend long there, they’re both bleeding out, and Zura’s men are apparently searching for them because by the time they reach pavement there’s a truck there with men and medical supplies and the weird massive duck that’s always following Zura. Who knows how it got here from the ship. He doesn’t really know what Zura’s up to these days, doesn’t really want to know, but he’s got enough power and connections to get a sterile blood infusion started in the back of the truck, and Gintoki badly needs blood. Zura holds his hand while the liquid fills his starving veins, and it feels nice. The hand, that is, he can’t really feel the blood. Zura drops him off at his place with hospital grade antibiotics and painkillers that he thinks are amanto, but gods they work well so he doesn’t care. Zura goes back to his insurgents and his duties and his space duck, and Gintoki goes back to his kids. But there’s been yet another shift in his relationship with Zura, and this one seems like a really good thing.

He finds out later from the kids that Zura went after Takasugi, tried to talk to him like a comrade, and only got his head promised to the Harusame out of the deal. Gods know what he was thinking, maybe about their childhood, maybe about Sensei. Maybe just some missguided need to play the peacemaker again after all these years. Maybe because, despite everything that happened, Zura doesn’t hate Takasugi. It’s complicated, Zura had said, and that’s likely the tip of an iceberg that will never quite surface. He doesn’t ask.

The sex happens a few more times, and they don’t really plan it, but it’s nice. Zura shows up for no reason out of nowhere more often, space duck normally in tow, and that’s nice too. Gintoki doesn’t like the war and doesn’t like that Zura’s still fighting it, but he does what he wants and he can’t really give Zura shit for doing what he wants. Zura never stopped fighting, doesn’t know how to stop fighting, Gintoki knows. But sometimes when he rests, he rests with Gintoki, and it’s nice.

One day he happens upon Zura, In full women’s clothes, again with the heels. He’s off gathering information, somehow, but when Gintoki meets him they end up paying for a sleazy hotel even though both of them are flat broke. Gintoki isn’t confused this time, he really likes the way Zura can walk in the shoes, the swivel it puts in his hips. He laughs when Zura won’t let him tear the pantyhose off him, says he still needs those for his mission. Zura laughs too, and Gintoki loves the sound as they both work to get the garments off without leaving runs. He doesn’t mind a bit when Zura takes control of the situation and fucks him roughly in a skirt that barely covers his toned thighs.

He feels weird on Rakuyou when they meet up with Takasugi again, but Zura takes it in stride. He spits in Sakamoto’s face just like Gintoki, and Takasugi doesn’t go after him like he used to. His beast has shifted, smelling new blood, and he pursues Utsuro with his usual single mindedness. Gintoki still keeps between them, feels his blood racing when they get close. It almost seems unfair that Takasugi takes so little interest in Zura after all the shit he pulled. Gintoki wonders again if he ever had feelings for Zura besides the desire to see him break, and it makes his blood boil. Zura’s good, though, and if he’s having his Zura thoughts it’s not overwhelming him. Gintoki’s surprised when Zura engages in some light flirting, but it warms his heart. Life goes on, and flowers can bloom in the worst adversity. He still hates Takasugi.

Something has passed between Zura and Takasugi again when he wasn’t looking, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The assassination wasn’t real, Zura is still here, the feelings that he felt about Zura’s death are over before he has a chance to process them. He thinks Takasugi’s taken something from Zura again, or at least tried to, but Zura’s gotten stronger. He hasn’t given anything. They run for the terminal, reunited as Shouyou’s students once more.

He doesn’t approve when Zura decides to stay in the ship as it’s coming down, but he does his own shit and he can’t really say anything when Zura does his own. Zura’s the lowest in the ship when it goes down, and it takes a while to find him under the wreckage. He’s fine, not a scratch on him despite the literal tons of metal that fell around him. His brown eyes find Gintoki’s, and he’s obviously still processing what happened.

Gintoki offers him a hand. “Takasugi is dead,” he says, although he’s pretty sure Zura already knows, and Zura just nods absently in response.

“I didn’t hate him,” Zura replies after a long bout of very strong Zura thoughts, his hand raising to his hair and running his fingers through it distractedly like he’s surprised he kept it this time. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t hate.” he twists a finger in his long hair and he tugs it. “In some ways, I pitied him.”

Zura takes his hand, and Gintoki helps him to his feet. “I hated him,” he says, and finds it’s true even if it’s not as strong as it used to be, “but I think I understand him better.”

“He always had a beast in him,” Zura replies, head still very much full of Zura thoughts, hopefully not too bad, “even when he was little. Something he couldn’t control.” He looks over the wreckage with his eyes that always seem so old and wisened yet blissfully empty. “You were right, Gintoki. Sensei was still there. I didn’t expect to see him again.” He closed his eyes. “Thank you, Gintoki.”

Gintoki smiles, feeling an openness he hasn’t felt in years, and impulsively places a kiss on Zura’s long hair, somewhere around his temple.

“Do you two need a moment?” comes a voice from behind them. He forgot he has his kids with him. He turns.

“Come on, you’re sixteen now! That’s old enough for an R15 doujinshi! You can handle a little kissing!” he protests, and then, because it feels like an important moment and he doesn’t want to let it slip away, he turns Zura’s face and kisses him properly on the mouth for good measure. Kagura whoops, Zura blushes slightly, Shinpachi just seems like he saw it coming. He puts an arm around Zura, both supporting him and being supported by him. They’ve been through some shit, yet again. This time, however, it seems like things will finally go back to normal, or a new normal. And, hey, maybe Zura can be a more prominent part of this new normal. “Are we done here?” he asks Zura.

Zura looks like he’s burying a lot of things that needed to be buried, both in life and in his private Zura thoughts. He smiles at Gintoki. “I’m done,” he says. They leave together, and Zura spends the night at the Yorozuya even if Gintoki doesn’t have a room anymore and they end up sleeping across the table from each other on separate couches. Elizabeth shows up in the morning with lots of questions about the happenings after the assassination attempt, and the four explain it together. It’s nice, Gintoki thinks, and feels the warm Zura feelings of childhood.

Zura (It’s Katsura if he really wants it to be, Gintoki has finally decided, he just doesn’t know how to break the news. It feels like it has to be special, like pulling out a ring) is doing some weird vigilante shit, and Gintoki doesn’t really understand it but he guesses it’s fine. Zura always had a lot of weird Zura energy and weird Zura thoughts, and they need an outlet, even if he’s conquered the country and reformed the government he was trying to change. It gives him time with his precious duck, and that seems to be important for proper Zura enrichment.

The duck, by the way, turns out to be a more enthusiastic wingman than even Kagura is.

Zura��s still wanted, maybe, it’s hard to tell, but it’s difficult to arrest a guy who has coffee with the princess on a weekly basis and constantly texts Shimaru memes. He doesn’t bother to wear disguises anymore, although he sometimes does for fun, and Gin isn’t a bit surprised when he comes to Zura’s apartment and sees a pair of red heels next to the sandals in the entrance. Zura’s a champ in them, and they make his calves look nice.

He’s been spending a lot of time at Zura’s place. Can you blame him? He doesn’t have a room anymore. They have sex, and sometimes it’s still frantic and needy, but sometimes it’s also gentle and silly. Sometimes they just make out and watch reruns. He’s learned the ins and outs, the scars and muscles of Zura’s body, and he finds it’s comfortable to just be with the man for the sake of being with him. He gets the warm Zura feelings in his chest often, and he’s beginning to admit that it’s what he always suspected: love.

And Zura? He still has Zura thoughts, a lot of them, and Gintoki doesn’t really understand them any more than he did when they were kids, but he doesn’t seem to have many of the bad ones. He doesn’t just go away from himself for no reason. He’s healing, Gintoki realizes, and maybe he doesn’t have to keep busy every second of his life just to keep from thinking bad thoughts. Zura enjoys being with him just for the sake of being together. Zura, Gintoki thinks, probably loves him at least a little too.

Sakamoto said that Sensei was living in the altana of the planet, watching over them, and that he wants them to be happy. Maybe, just maybe, he’s smiling at the thought of his students finally finding some real happiness after all the shit that’s happened.

And that’s not a miracle. That’s just what Senseis do.

—

This is partially because I went trolling through Gintama doujinshi and most of the Katsura ones seem to be him in a fucking awful toxic relationship with Takasugi and that’s just the way it goes and I know that’s kind of the point of the doujinshi because that’s just how they are but it somehow got into my brain. Then it went Ginzura because that’s the way my brain goes these days and I’m secretly terrified that Katsura is in love with Gin and Gin isn’t in love with Katsura and I just want my boy Zura to be happy (despite the fact that all my fics right now are about him being miserable) I think the end is too fluffy for the beginning, but it’s hard not to get a little silly when you get into the actual series and I can’t just write Elizabeth off because I’m convinced Elizabeth is essential to Katsura’s mental health. Speaking of Katsura’s mental health, I don’t have any official diagnosis but he’s definitely got some PTSD (who doesn’t in this series) and he’s definitely disassociating during some of his Zura moments but he’s also neurodivergent and probably genderfluid. Poor boy needs someone to understand him.

I’m going to be real, I have no idea what happened during the Prime Minister Assassination scene. I’ve watched the movie and read the manga several times, but I’m not sure what’s in it for Katsura (He says they were working together?) and I’m not really sure if Takasugi came into it with an intention to kill, but it seems like he did? But my boy seems to have gotten through it just fine? I really like to think that Gin went in to kill when he thought Takasugi killed Katsura, although I don’t know if he even knew.

And I’ll be real, I didn’t really think about medically inadvisable grievous injury sex after the Benizakura Arc but I watched the movie version while I was writing this and you can’t tell me at least one of them didn’t get a boner during the parachute scene. Even if they were both stone cold straight it would happen.

Sensei totally ships GinZura. Not up for debate.

If you like the idea of Katsura and Gin fucking more explicitly and with less angst, I’d recommend you check out my blog because I’m bad at math but I think it’ll be about a month before I get an invitation to AO3 so I don’t really know where to post fics. Political Lessons are Only Important if you can Hold Your Listener's Attention in particular I’m proud of.

#gintama #ginzura #katsura kotarou #sakata gintoki #takasugi shinsuke #takazura #elizabeth gintama

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sweatysandwichenthusiast · 3 months ago

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Navigating Local Codes and Regulations with Your Fayetteville HVAC Project

When it comes to heating and cooling setups, repairs, or upgrades in Fayetteville, North Carolina, comprehending the local codes and guidelines is vital. Many house owners are often overwhelmed by the myriad of guidelines that govern heating, ventilation, and cooling systems. In this article, we'll break down everything you require to understand about navigating local codes and guidelines with your Fayetteville HVAC project

Rough-In Examination: Before walls are closed up. Final Assessment: To make sure whatever is operating properly and safely. Energy Efficiency Standards

Fayetteville has actually embraced particular energy effectiveness requirements that align with national standards. This implies your brand-new heating and cooling system needs to satisfy specific SEER (Seasonal Energy Efficiency Ratio) rankings for air conditioners.

Choosing a HVAC Company in Fayetteville NC Why Go Local?

When searching for an HVAC business in Fayetteville NC, picking a regional professional has its benefits. Regional companies are more knowledgeable about local codes and policies than bigger nationwide chains.

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Employing unlicensed employees might save you money in advance however could result in extreme consequences down the line. From fines for code

#Youtube

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wetbloodworm · 2 months ago

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because i think it's fun, elaborating on a few details

breaking down the model name:

Chapetek - manufacturer name. derived from the brothers who coined the term robot

Ivaldi - indicates the specific mold used, so the base of how the android actually looks. face, body, etc. surname of a roboticist i pulled from a list. all chapetek models use surnames of notable roboticists or programmers etc, though this doesn't imply that the mold resembles the individual.

NC - non-commercial, so androids not intended to be used by companies and instead are generally for individual use. commercial models start with C.

750 - indicates the specific programming used, capabilities of the model, etc. what the android can do and how it behaves. each digit probably represents something different but i got no clue what lmao. it's just technical stuff this doesn't really matter. im forcing myself to leave it alone.

TECHNICALLY, the 750 doesn't fully apply to zephyr, considering his programming doesn't fully conform to the standard. he'd have his own designation if the company knew about his whole deal. but chapetek doesn't know and zeph is touchy about the whole thing anyway so that's a moot point.

zephyr thoughts

i mentioned previously that zeph is a mid-range personal assistant-type model, and thinking about stuff there. like since they're pre-made rather than customs i'd imagine they all come from the same mold. you can customize after the fact but body and facial structure are all gonna be the same. zephyr would absolutely be hugely uncomfortable running into another android of his model out in the world. it was bad enough seeing some at the company. he's a little self conscious of his facial scar but at the same time having something to differentiate him a bit is nice.

looking up famous roboticists for model names and i'm going with the Chapetek Ivaldi NC750 as zeph's model

what was zephyr called before he named himself? i don't think he had a name. androids generally don't come with names, like maybe some higher end brands do that but generally nah. i think while androids at chapetek are undergoing quality testing and such, they're identified by serial number, shortened to the last three digits for brevity.

zeph's number ends in 209, so that's how andrew and the other employees would've addressed him at the company. actually i can see andy referring to the androids he works with as ms/mr/mx [number] specifically depending on the model. so zeph, before saying he's not a girl, would've been Ms 209.

#aiverse tag #zephyr tag

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starfall-spirit · 2 years ago

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Hate to break it to you, but Feysand has always been a retcon and SJM is a liar who says she’s always had them planned to sound cooler and to cover up the fact that she’s always said 1) she never plans her books and 2) she had to add Rhys in earlier and that she’d originally planned for him to be the villain.

Detailing the actual story of how ACOTAR came to be from her own former newsletter, she wrote two and half ACOTAR books in 2009 (then originally only a trilogy). In 2014, SJM scrapped and rewrote the entirety of that original second and half of a third book and completely started over with them, creating what is now ACOMAF and ACOWAR. She did not change anything in ACOTAR, though, but she did add things in during editing. She’s also said Nesta and Lucien were originally supposed to be mates and that she didn’t even plan for Nessian until she wrote the scene where the IC goes to ask Feyre’s family for help.

If Nesta and Lucien were originally endgame, that would infer that Feyre in the original second book actually spent a majority of her time in the Spring Court because how else would Nesta meet Lucien? He doesn’t live in the NC. He doesn’t live the AC. And if a majority of the plot is taking place in Spring and the story is from Feyre’s pov, it would also imply Feyre was still with Tamlin. 🤷🏼‍♀️ And a quick reminder that the entire series was originally a Beauty and the Beast/Tamlin retelling, not just the first book.

You can love Feysand, no one is telling you not to, but if you’re going to try to debunk what others are saying, then at least find out why they’re saying it in the first place so you can provide a proper counter argument. There’s overwhelming evidence within the first book that anything after it was never planned.

In fact, you could take Rhys out of the first book and the Calanmai scene would still work if Lucien had been the one to find her. The dresser would still work if Feyre and Elain’s drawers were swapped. Amarantha’s whore could be anybody, and the scene where Rhys forces Tamlin and Lucien to beg for Feyre could’ve happened with that anybody, not just Rhys. Maybe you should think about why the first book of a book series, where he’s supposedly been the plan all along, could still play out without him. 😬

Hi, anon.

I would first like to let you know, my inbox is not a place to start ship wars or attack people for their opinions of canon fandom matters. I hope in the future you respect the simple request at the top of my page to leave me polite asks.

But, to clarify a few points you've addressed here, look under the cut

"She never plans her books."

Anon, I'm not sure what precisely you mean when you say plan. There are many types of writers. When you're drafting an original story you may create an outline detailing the step by step plot, conflict, character development, call to action, etc.

Or perhaps you are an author like me, who instead prefers to free write. I won't hesitate to admit I can't stick to an outline beyond points A, B, and C. For example, my Anastasia AU

Chapter 1: The Rumor, The Legend, The Mystery (St. Pete)

Rumors

Plan Con

Meet Elain

Chapter 2: Things My Heart Used To Know (December)

Learning Heritage

Rhys’ 1st appearance

Chapter 3: The High Lord Lies Cold (Neva flows)

Rhys Bonus

Chapter 4: Let Me Say Goodbye (Stay I pray you)

1997 ~For the Magic~

Carriage out of Dusk

Carriage stopped enroute

Escape

Chapter 5: In a Crowd of Thousands

Nightmare/Talk

Travel on foot to gate to Day

Meet Helion

Chapter 6: Could it Be? (Quartet)

2. "She had to add Rhys in earlier than planned to be a villain."

What exactly is the point of this statement? Maybe Feyre could have stayed inside the manor on Calanmai. Maybe Lucien could have stumbled upon her and the three fae who targeted her. If you think she's the only author to rewrite a story or add characters in an earlier or later position, I'm going to guess you don't have much of a concept of the natural writing process.

3. "Detailing the actual story of how ACOTAR came to be from her own former newsletter, she wrote two and half ACOTAR books in 2009 (then originally only a trilogy). In 2014, SJM scrapped and rewrote the entirety of that original second and half of a third book and completely started over with them, creating what is now ACOMAF and ACOWAR. She did not change anything in ACOTAR, though, but she did add things in during editing."

Again, the natural writing process. Rewriting a hundred times over if it's necessary to get the book published. Editing for the sake of a fluid storyline.

4. Your points on Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian have nothing to do with a Feysand of Feylin endgame. There could have been a dozen different ways SJM planned on Lucien and Nesta meeting outside of Spring that we will never know. The fact is that in the end, SJM decided "Lucien and Nesta would be at each other's throats. And not in a good way". Or something along those lines. In walked Nessian.

5. "You can love Feysand, no one is telling you not to, but if you’re going to try to debunk what others are saying, then at least find out why they’re saying it in the first place so you can provide a proper counter argument."

I am aware I have the freedom of expression in the fandom. I would also like to clarify I was entirely polite in "debunking" the counterargument to defend Tamlin. Did you feel particularly attacked when I told a new fandom member to try the second book and see if it was to their liking when they saw Rhysand's story?

Or was it my assessment of Tamlin's lack of anger management and every marker of an abuser he shows from the second he comes to take Feyre across the wall.

TL;DR

No matter how many rewrites ACOTAR went through, there was no character retcon on Tamlin or Rhys. Book one was an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast and Book two was an adaptation of Hades and Persephone, even if very few elements were taken from the actual tales.

For any others who wish to drop in and give me a polite hello, my inbox is always open and I'm chugging along so I have some lovely Feysand and crack ship snippets to provide you with.

#acotar #feysand #feylin #feysand has never been a retcon #rude anon #don't waste my time with pettiness #just do a little research please

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say-al0e · 5 years ago

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Rest

Rating: NC-17 | No one under 18! Minors, DNI!!

Summary: Your relationship with Din has become strained and you’re no longer sure where you stand with the man behind the helmet. He leaves you with Boba while he runs an errand and Boba helps you realize that there’s more to life than pining.

Warnings: vague spoilers for the last few episodes of season 2, mentions of anxiety, mentions of family/world disappearing (not graphic, only in passing, but just in case) sorta dom!Boba (not super mean but a little demanding), very light choking, overstimulation, fingering (uh, oral and otherwise?), penetration (p in v), c*m eating, um. I think that’s it? (Other than, like, feelings but meh.)

Pairing: Din x Fem!Reader (Past/Implied/Unrequited? It’s complicated) - Boba x Fem!Reader (he uses ‘girl’ as a pet name)

Word Count: 7.1k (....I’m very sorry)

PART 2

“I’ll be back.”

Three simple words, uttered quietly - almost reluctantly - with his visor trained on you, were all that Din gave you before he stepped down the loading ramp of Slave I and disappeared into the dense forest that surrounded the ship. Though you were used to him disappearing, heading into the unknown to track bounties or fetch supplies, this was the departure that stung the most.

Though Din was careful about his affection, you were used to more. Lingering glances, soft touches, quiet words; but this time, he hadn’t reached out to place a gloved hand on your cheek and hadn’t tacked on the softly uttered ‘cyar’ika’ you had once been so used to hearing fall from his lips when addressing you. He gave you three words that seemed to be a formality, a courteous gesture meant to quell your anxiety instead of one borne from affection, and you found yourself half-wishing he’d left without acknowledging you at all.

That wasn’t fair and, realistically, you knew that. You were overthinking and taking offense where none was meant, you knew that, too. His mind was elsewhere - as was yours - but rationality had long disappeared. It was left in the dust on some desert planet far from the forests of your current location, shattered into irreparable pieces from too many nightmares come true, and in its place grew the creeping tendrils of doubt that wrapped around your lungs and squeezed until your chest felt hollow.

Doubt blossomed into other nasty feelings - fear, worry, anger, despair - that grew until they filled your heart and head and left you clinging to but a few final silk threads of hope. It was nauseating, feeling so many conflicting emotions when you’d gotten so used to living off pure adrenaline and smatterings of affection, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped.

Your life - Din’s life - didn’t allow for unfettered happiness.

Months ago, before you began to realize that you could desire more than survival, you would’ve taken those three words at face value. And even now, if anyone else had uttered those words, you would’ve wished them well and hoped for their safe return.

But it was Din who had uttered those words and you knew now that there was more to this life than living to see another day.

There was a moment of sheer desperation, just after he disappeared into the tree line, that nearly convinced you to run after him and beg for something, anything, more than those three simple words. But the ache in your chest was so strong that you feared your heart would burst if you so much as moved from your spot by the door. You knew that he meant to reassure you, to tell you that he would return and you would continue on, but his words sent your thoughts spiraling and made you question every move you’d made over the course of a few short weeks.

Din, who was stoic and quiet but loved fiercely once he decided to let someone in, had wormed his way into your heart. He had become a constant in your life - and you in his - in a matter of months and that was, in and of itself, a thing to marvel at. With lives like yours, stability was never an option. Attachment was weakness, affection was nonexistent.

Until Din, you hadn’t even realized it was missing.

In the short time that you spent with Din and the Child on the Razor Crest, you learned more about life than you had in all your years. Though Din was as new to allowing others into his life as you were, you both fell headfirst into navigating the complicated emotions that had you questioning the life you’d lived. It was hard, wondering if you’d been seeing the world through muted lenses, but Din helped you navigate it.

Watching him, a warrior through and through, openly love the Child and devote himself to the friends he’d made along the way - if only somewhat reluctantly - made it easier for you to give in to the warmth that bubbled in the pit of your stomach. For the first time, you allowed yourself to feel emotions you’d been taught were weaknesses and nearly everything you felt was for Din.

You felt a maternal love for the Child, something you hadn’t realized you were capable of, and a platonic affection for Cara. You felt elation, watching a couple be reunited, and relief watching a town be saved from the brink. But none of those things compared to the affection that you felt for Din.

You weren’t sure if you could call it love - you weren’t even sure how to define love - but, whatever you chose to call it, it filled your chest with the most pleasant ache. And the thought that Din returned your affection, that he felt for you what you felt for him, had been enough.

It was only natural that your relationship progressed the longer you spent with him. You grew comfortable with one another, between one bounty and another, and your relationship began to gradually shift. You both spoke more, though he still spoke significantly less than you, and you swore you heard him laugh more than once. He made jokes and offered casual touches, a lingering hand on your arm here and there or a touch to your cheek after a particularly intense battle. And he took to calling you ‘cyar’ika’ - hesitantly, at first, until it began to slip out as casually as your name - before sharing his real name with you.

It was then, when he trusted you enough to share such personal information, that you realized just how much he meant to you. And it was then that you openly told him how much you cared for him.

You wondered if whatever you felt would’ve been better left unsaid. When it lingered, unspoken and unacknowledged, between the two of you, there was no danger. It was there, just under the surface but still so far out of reach, but it couldn’t hurt either of you.

Speaking it aloud made it real.

You wondered if you should’ve waited for him to make the first move, to address his own feelings first, or if there was anything you could’ve done that would’ve prevented the chain of events that followed your confession. But the longer you dwelled on the subject, the clearer it became that there was no satisfactory answer.

When you confessed your feelings, Din began to pull away. The touches grew fewer and farther in between, the conversations grew shorter and shorter until they nearly stopped altogether. He always seemed to catch himself before he could address you as ‘cyar’ika’ and, as of late, almost refused to be alone with you. You weren’t sure what you did wrong, where it fell apart, but it had and the fallout nearly crushed you.

You were trying, desperately, to fix what was broken but you wondered if it was time to move on. There was one mission left and, after that, you feared that Din would disappear without so much as a courteous goodbye. That was the last thing you wanted but you were quickly coming to grips with the idea that you might have to learn to live without him.

“Sit down or take your pacing outside, girl. He’ll return.”

You froze, momentarily startled by Boba’s voice interrupting your thoughts, and slowly blinked back the tears that had threatened to fall. You glanced around the cargo bay, surprised by the sudden realization that you’d moved from the doorway and started pacing, before settling on the intimidating figure who sat in the corner. His eyes were on the armor spread on the floor in front of him and you gave him a once over before sparing the loading ramp one last look.

“I know. I’m just… worried, I guess. He’s been preoccupied lately.” You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and worried with the place you’d already bitten until it bled, a habit that you’d picked up in recent weeks, as you sheepishly turned to face him.

Though you’d been hyperaware of his presence from the moment you met - Boba Fett was an imposing force who commanded attention, no matter the circumstances - the storm of emotions that Din’s departure set in motion had clouded your mind and left you unable to focus on much else. You’d forgotten he was there, that he’d settled in the cargo bay the moment you landed, and felt your face heat in embarrassment as you realized he’d witnessed Din’s departure and your pathetic reaction.

Boba lifted his gaze from his armor long enough to fix you with a look, one that made you realize that you were vastly understating emotions that he could clearly read, and you shrank away from him on instinct. You folded your arms over your chest and shifted your weight from foot to foot as you glanced around the ship that you had yet to truly figure out.

Though you hadn’t known him long, you knew that Boba wasn’t the outwardly comforting type. He didn’t offer false hope and wasn’t going to be the one to hold your hand as you navigated your emotions. He wasn’t cruel - not to you - but optimism didn’t seem to be a word in his vocabulary. So when he said, “He’ll be fine,” you knew that it wasn’t meant as a falsehood to ease your worry. It was a statement, the truth as he saw it, and it eased some of the tightness in your chest.

He wasn’t speaking only in terms of physical safety - that was always a concern but, at the moment, the least of yours - and you knew that. You’d realized very early on that Boba saw more than he let on and had carefully studied each of the strangers he was bringing aboard his ship. He knew you infinitely better than you knew yourself and his belief that Din would be alright made it easier to breathe.

You lingered, standing near the door, for a long moment and listened to the sound of Boba shifting tools around. It was soothing, white noise that drowned out the static in your brain, but you weren’t sure if Boba minded you being so close. You hesitated, unsure if you should ask or simply take a seat, when Boba heaved a heavy sigh. “Come here.”

Grateful for his invitation, you took the few steps that separated the pair of you and took a seat on the floor near him. You were far enough away that you could be certain you weren’t crowding him but close enough that could see all of him, from the scars that ran prominently across his cheekbones to the few faded ones that littered his hands. He kept his eyes on the armor scattered across the floor while you kept your eyes on him.

You watched as he methodically cleaned the pieces of his recently returned armor. It was dirty and in desperate need of repair - though you weren’t sure what damage came from his previous adventures and what had been done by people like Cobb - but you knew that he was glad to have it back. It was strange to see a Mandalorian without his armor, though you knew that Din was feeling the oddity more than you, so you took the time to observe Boba as he worked.

Cara had been the one to regale you with rumors of his past (though she was quick to remind you that they were just that, rumors) when you had a moment alone. She painted him as one of the fiercest bounty hunters the galaxy had ever seen and, judging from the battle you witnessed when you met, you didn’t hesitate to believe her. The more salacious rumors - that he had, at one time, been as notorious for his looks and ability to bed a variety of partners as he was for his abilities as a bounty hunter - were ones that you hadn’t given much thought.

Now, though, as you watched him work, you decided that you believed those, too.

The years hadn’t been kind to him and neither had his career, however, he was still handsome. He cut an imposing figure, with dark eyes and an air of unmatched strength, but you’d seen brief flashes of charm that would’ve disarmed anyone long enough to spend the night with him. He had a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and enjoyed stirring up trouble in a way that gave you a clear picture of the Boba from twenty years earlier. He was interesting, so unlike anyone you’d had the pleasure to meet before, and you welcomed the distraction.

“See something you like?”

You blinked, unaware that. Boba had caught you staring, and dropped your eyes to his armor after meeting his bemused gaze. You felt your face heat as you struggled to form a response. “Yes - I mean, no. I mean…” He laughed then, a throaty chuckle that barely shook his shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut as you searched for an appropriate response.

Your eyes fell to his hands, carefully tracing the scars that littered them as his fingers nimbly worked to remove a dent from the chest plate, as you weighed your words. “I just… it’s weird, you know? Not seeing you - that’s not weird because you’re handsome,” you added, the words jumbled as you rushed them out, “just, seeing so much of you. I’ve known Mando for so long and I’ve only seen his hands. I guess I’m just used to staring at the helmet.”

“There’s more of me to see.”

Your head snapped up at that, eyes wide and lips parted. Boba met your gaze evenly, his face impassive but his eyes twinkling with the mischief of someone twenty years his junior, and you heard him laugh once more when you were the one to drop break eye contact. You returned your gaze to his armor, this time staring at the helmet by his side, and hoped desperately that he couldn’t tell just how warm your face had gotten.

“Grab that can of paint.” You glanced up just in time to catch Boba’s nod in the direction of a can of green paint - the color you recognized from pieces of the armor. When it was firmly in your hand, he nudged the chest plate in your direction. “We’ll be here for a while, might as well make use of our time.”

The time passed quickly as the pair of you worked in near silence. Boba uttered directions, where to leave a piece of armor to dry or how specifically to paint a certain section, and called you out any time you got too distracted watching him to continue painting - how he knew you were looking was beyond you, but any time you stared for too long, you could guarantee that by the time your gaze reached his face, Boba would be staring right back at you with the same amused look in his eyes.

He wasn’t much of a talker - though you were beginning to assume that was just a Mandalorian trait - but the silence was never awkward. If your travels with Din had taught you anything, it was that not every silence needed to be filled. Forced conversation wasn’t worth having so you left it alone, content to sit in silence with Boba and allow the methodical way he worked to distract you from the storm of emotions that raged in your mind.

It was just after nightfall when you finished, your fingers stained green and the tunic you wore dotted with flecks of orange, and it was then that you returned your full attention to Boba. He was finishing the work on his helmet, restoring the last piece of his armor, and you watched as he ran his fingers over a dent.

There was a question that had lingered in the back of your mind since the moment you met Boba and, though you still hesitated to ask, you imagined there would be no better time. “What will you do, when this is over?”

Boba remained silent as he stretched his legs in front of him. His eyes never strayed from the helmet and, had it not been for the brief pause of his hand, you would’ve assumed he hadn’t heard your question. You didn’t expect an answer - at least, not an in-depth one - so his silence was unsurprising. You weren’t sure what he’d done before you met - in the time that he was rumored to be dead - and you weren’t sure why he should tell you what he would be doing when you parted ways but you were curious and, if you were honest, a small part of you was looking for ideas.

You always imagined that you would continue on with Din. Regardless of what happened with the Child - if he stayed with you or if you were able to find his home - you imagined that your journey with Din was far from over. Your visions of the future included traveling, fighting, living by his side but those visions had grown dimmer and dimmer in recent weeks.

They seemed like fantasies now, long lost dreams that slipped like sand between your fingers whenever you awoke, but you struggled to build a new reality when there was nothing else you wanted.

“I’ve always wanted to explore. There’s so much out there, so many planets I’ve never seen and people I’ve never met. I want to see it all.”

“What’s stopping you?” His voice was gruff, as if he was unused to asking such questions, but he lifted his head and turned his attention to you as he awaited your answer.

You blinked, not expecting Boba to respond at all - let alone ask that -, and frowned as you contemplated what to say. Months ago, you would’ve said Din. You went where he went, plain and simple. Before that, your allegiance to your family. But now, with no family to return to and a Mandalorian who no longer seemed interested in having you around, you realized that there wasn’t a single good reason to put it off any longer.

“Nothing.”

It was hard, admitting the acceptance that there was nothing holding you here - beyond the rescue of the Child - aloud, but acknowledging that felt almost as if a weight were lifted off your chest. The heaving sea of emotions roiling in the pit of your stomach calmed slightly, the eye of the the storm that would soon lull you into a false sense of security, and for the first time in weeks, you took a deep breath.

“There’s nothing stopping me from exploring the galaxy.” You paused, taking a moment to glance at the cargo bay door for the first time since Boba allowed you to help him paint, before you returned your attention to him. You met his eyes, the deep brown swimming with emotion you felt certain you’d never be able to read, and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t distracted wondering what color Din’s eyes were. Instead, you found yourself curious to know more about the man who sat before you.

“The galaxy is awfully large. You’ll be wandering forever.” His words held none of his usual bite. They were far from soft - though you imagined him incapable of whispering, of providing gentle comfort and quiet reassurances - but they lacked the condescension you feared as you shared your desire to explore. There was no laughter, no mockery; just the observation of a man who knew from personal experience.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.” You glanced down, your eyes dropping to your hands that laid folded in your lap, as you shrugged. “I don’t have a home anymore so I’ll be wandering regardless.”

You knew that Boba heard you - you heard the minute change in his breathing as you confirmed the assumption Fennec had made about you upon your first meeting - but he didn’t press. If he was curious about how you survived or if you blamed him - if you blamed his father - he didn’t ask. He remained silent, a gesture that allowed you to continue speaking, and you hesitantly voiced aloud things you dreaded to think.

“I think…” You paused and lifted your eyes from your hands to glance at Boba. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, face impassive but eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “I think the thing I’m most afraid of is that it’ll be a lonely existence. I want to explore, to travel, but at the end of the day, I want to be held. It’s silly, wanting physical comfort when so much of my life has been without it, but that’s the thing I fear. Not dying on some faraway planet; dying alone.”

“I’ve spent most of my life wandering the galaxy. It is a lonely existence.” It was an acknowledgement that you hadn’t expected, one that conveyed a deeper understanding of what you meant than you could have hoped for, and it was accompanied by a quiet sigh. “You’re only human, girl.”

His eyes held a story far more complicated than any you could ever hope to understand based on rumors. The way his fingers brushed the helmet, the reverence with which he treated his armor, told you that he understood your fears. They were not baseless, he did not consider them frivolous, and at some point, he might’ve even felt them himself. He knew the pain of no longer having a home, a family, to return to. He knew the desire to disappear into a galaxy that could swallow you whole without so much as a spared thought.

He knew the desire to lose yourself in another, if only for a moment, in order to drown out the chatter of a million conflicting emotions.

“You should get some rest, little one. When he returns, we’re leaving to meet the others and I suspect rest will be hard to come by for a while.”

His tone was the same, gruff but void of any malice, and the new nickname sent a slight shiver down your spine. Something sparkled in his eyes at the sight of your own widening and the corner of his lips ticked upwards as he took in the goosebumps prickling your skin. “I’m not tired.”

He openly regarded you then, his dark eyes sweeping your form. You held still, your breath caught in your throat, as he took in the way your fingers gripped the material of your pants in an effort to keep yourself grounded. With Boba, you were never sure what to expect - each move he made was more surprising than the last - but the last thing you expected was the smirk that quirked his lips. “I could tire you out.”

Your eyes widened, eyebrows winging up in surprise, and your lips parted as you met Boba’s bemused look head-on. You knew what he was insinuating - at least, you assumed you did - but that didn’t stop you from finally asking, “What?”

It was the only word that came to mind, the only thing you could force past your lips, and and Boba chuckled as you gaped at him. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he placed the finished helmet on the tarp near the rest of his armor and stood, his eyes flicking between you and his quarters. “You can stay out here and wait or you can come with me, little one. The choice is yours.”

A small portion of your brain - the rational center that had been decimated and replaced by worry - told you to reject his offer and wait for Din to return. Your feelings for Din ran deep, something akin to love burned hot in the pit of your stomach, but Boba was right; you were only human. Your desire for companionship, for someone to take a moment to touch you, has grown stronger and stronger since Din last laid a hand on your shoulder and he’d made it clear that he was no longer going to offer you that comfort.

Boba was not Din but, in the moment, you realized that that was a good thing.

With a pounding heart and shaking limbs, with a heart that beat for another and a stream of consciousness that told you that you were making a mistake, you stood from your seat on the floor and stepped closer to Boba. He met your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he never spoke aloud, before turning to his quarters. You followed behind him, the heavy thud of his boots against the floor matching the thudding of your heart in your chest, and willed yourself to stop thinking.

You watched as Boba settled onto his bunk, his back to the wall his legs stretched in front of him. He looked every bit the imposing figure you knew him to be, dangerous and menacing with his sights set on you. You felt heat pool in the pit of your stomach, a desire that had been lingering but was tamped down by so many other feelings, and decided that giving into your feelings was what you were meant to do.

He patted his thigh, a gesture for you to swing your legs over them and settle on his lap, and you toed off your boots before settling with one knee on either side of his hips. One of his hands, rough and calloused from years of experience, gripped the back of your neck as the other moved to your thigh. The heat of his palms seeped into your skin, branding the spot with a fire that you’d never felt before, and you shivered at the weight of his touch.

“This what you want, little one?” He looked you in the eye, his gaze heavy and his voice low, as he waited for your consent. When you nodded, the movement stiff with his hand on your neck, he clicked his tongue. “Words, girl. Tell me, is this what you want?”

“Yes, please.”

Boba hummed, pleased by your response, and nodded himself before using the grip on the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. His lips, like his hands, were warm and slightly chapped but the feeling of them pressing against yours instantly quieted the thunderous noise that had been bubbling in your brain. Your mind went blank at the feeling of him pulling you close, at the press of your chest against his, and you focused solely on Boba.

His kiss was unlike any you’d ever experienced. The press of his lips against yours was firm, a pressure that you felt, and certain. He knew what he wanted and, like everything else in his life, was unafraid to pursue it. His kiss was not rushed or frenzied but you would hesitate to call it languid. It was tempered, even; the kiss of a man who knew what was necessary to build you up before destroying you completely.

You sighed against his mouth, your hands moving from your sides to his shoulders, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips. His kiss proved Cara’s rumors beyond a shadow of a doubt, showed you just how different this man was from your own Mandalorian, but that was a line of thinking you refused to dwell on as Boba’s hand drifted higher on your thigh.

Your hands moved to his chest, your palms splayed across the sturdy expanse that moved steadily beneath them, and you took the chance to study him as you pulled away to catch your breath. Boba allowed you to take him in, his hand flexed against your thigh as your own moved to brush the scars that littered his face, and made a quiet noise of surprise as you dipped your head to press kisses along the line of his jaw.

You weren’t sure if he enjoyed the attention or if he wanted to allow you time to grow comfortable with him but he gave you a few moments of unrestrained freedom to explore the little exposed skin you could find. However, when he grew bored of feeling your lips brush his skin, he used the grip on the back of your neck to guide your face back to his.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, little one.”

You blinked at him, unsure of what he meant for you to do, but when he only returned your look of confusion with an even look, you took it upon yourself to reach for the hem of your tunic and tug it up and over your head.

Boba unapologetically took in the exposed skin, his eyes raking over the scars littering your torso - most of which you acquired during your time with Din - before he set his sights on your breasts. His hands moved, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, to your stomach. His palms seared your skin, leaving a brand that would live on in your memory, as his lips returned to yours.

His rough hands found your breasts and he lingered for a moment, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts to send a shiver down your spine, before he cupped them. His touch was like his kiss, certain and firm but undeniably pleasing, and it brought you closer to him as you eagerly pressed your chest into his touch. You felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement but chose to ignore it as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples.

It had been far too long since another person offered you the kind of physical comfort that Boba was giving you and though you’d been hesitant, you quickly forgot why as you felt your body being engulfed in the flames of your lust. Nothing existed outside of Boba, outside of the feeling of his hands on your chest or his lips on yours. His scent, something natural with a hint of spice, filled your nose and had you clinging to his shoulders as one hand moved from your chest to dip past the waistband of your pants.

You lifted your hips enough for Boba to slip his hand between your thighs and breathed a heavy sigh when he pulled away from the kiss to glance at you. His fingers brushed your folds, finding you slick and warm and eager for his touch, and you wanted to hide your face as you caught the amusement in his eyes.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been touched.” It wasn’t a question, he could tell by the way you eagerly moved your hips in search of more friction, and he didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he dipped a finger into your heat and watched your eyes go wide. His eyes remained on your face and you swore you saw a sort of curiosity in them as he catalogued the way your lips parted, his name leaving them in soft sighs, and how your eyebrows furrowed whenever his fingers brushed a particular spot.

It was torture, a slow buildup that you hadn’t realized he was capable of, but you knew the reward would be worth it.

The tension in the pit of your stomach drew tighter, the coil of white-hot heat a rubber band ready to snap, as Boba added a second finger. His fingers, larger than your own, filled you in a way that had you gasping for breath but he continued to steal the little air you had in your lungs by capturing your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. The pad of his thumb, rough and calloused from years of work, rubbed tight circles over your clit and your nails dug into his arm as you rocked your hips.

Your head dipped down, your forehead moving to his shoulder as you sought your release, and Boba grunted as he moved his hand faster. “Come on, little one, don’t hold back.” When he felt you clench around him, when he heard the keening noise you made at the use of that name, his free hand moved from your breast to your throat. His grip wasn’t tight enough to cut off your air supply but it was firm enough to tilt your head so that you were looking him in the eye once more.

He watched, eyes dark and lips swollen, as your chest heaved and your lips parted in a moan of his name. You felt every drag of his fingers against your walls, the heat of his hand seeped into your bones and sent a shiver down your spine as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. The thing that did you in, the touch that pushed you over the edge, was the shift of his hips that pressed his hardened cock against your ass that met the thrust of his fingers inside of you.

It was overwhelming, the feeling of him surrounding you, and you cried out his name as you slumped in his grasp. He kept you upright, his hand on your throat keeping you from returning your head to his shoulder, and he continued to move his fingers until your hand left his shoulder to tug at his wrist. His hand slipped from your pants and he brought his fingers, coated in your release, to his lips. You watched with wide eyes as he cleaned them, his tongue dragging over the digits greedily, before blinking in surprise when he brought them to your lips next.

Boba watched, enthralled, as you tentatively took his fingers between your lips. He let you move at your own pace for a moment, swirling your tongue over the digits now coated in his saliva, before he pushed them deeper. He pressed them to your tongue, the taste of his skin overwhelming your senses, and tilted his head.

“Are you tired yet, little one?”

For a moment, you forgot what the purpose of this had been. You forgot that he intended to wear you out, to put your thoughts to rest and help you sleep. “Not even a little.”

You wondered, briefly, if that was the wrong thing to say. Boba seemed to take it as a challenge, his mouth setting in a firm line and his jaw clenching as he nodded. “Get up and take these off.” He gestured to your pants, already ruined with the release you’d had, and you stood on jelly limbs to step out of the garment.

He remained fully clothed, covered in black cloth, as you stood bare before him. He gestured for you to return to his lap, your thighs placed over his once more, and drew you into another kiss the moment you settled. As his lips worked yours over, his hands moved yours to the waistband of his pants. He used them to tug the material down, just enough to free his cock, and you eagerly attempted to pull away from the kiss to see him.

You itched to reach out and touch him, to drag your fingers over the head of his cock, but you kept your hands firmly placed on his chest as you watched him stroke himself lazily. He used the precum, beaded at the tip of his cock, to ease the movement and you watched with parted lips and bated breath.

Boba allowed you a moment to look at him before his hand returned to your throat and he was pulling you back into another kiss. He gripped your hips and guided you up, bringing you closer to his chest, before he ran his cock through the slick of your folds. He brushed your clit and you shivered, already sensitive from your first orgasm. He smirked against your mouth, his lips quirked just enough to feel, as you gripped his shoulders at the searing heat that burned through you and whimpered against his lips when you felt the head of his cock brush your entrance.

He left you in suspense for a long moment before he began pulling you down onto his cock. The stretch was overwhelming, a delicious ache that had your toes curling and your lungs constricting, and you broke from the kiss with a gasp as you sank down onto him. He gave you a moment, a brief bit of respite to catch your breath and adjust to the size of him, before he brought both hands to your hips and began to guide you.

Though you were on top, Boba controlled the pace at which you moved. He met each drop of your hips with a deep thrust of his own and you swore you felt him in the pit of your stomach. You were hypersensitive, aware of every brush of his fingers against your heated skin and every drag of his cock against your walls, and it only took a few particularly hard thrusts and swipes of his fingers against your clit to throw you over the edge for the second time.

While you didn’t expect Boba to praise you, he’d proven himself capable of surprising you at every turn. He continued fucking you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he murmured, “Good girl,” into the column of your throat. He only paused for a moment, his cock never leaving you as he moved to shift the pair of you so that you were lying on your back, and you were blinded by the white hot bolt of pleasure that coursed through your veins at the feeling of the new angle.

Boba slowed his pace, his strokes slow and deep as he destroyed you with each thrust, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. Your heart pounded in your chest, the blood rushing through your veins sounded like waves crashing in your ears, and you felt disconnected from reality as he drove into you. Nothing mattered, nothing existed, outside of Boba tearing you apart piece by piece and you keened as he hit the hidden spot deep inside of you.

You were floating, soaring high above the planet, as Boba rutted into you and you never wanted the feeling to disappear. He enveloped every one of your senses - the spicy scent of his skin, the taste of his tongue, the heat of his body, the sound of his voice rasping in your ear - and you lost yourself in the pleasure as he drove you to your third orgasm of the night.

It was almost too much, feeling him continue to rut into you as he chased his own high, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain as you relished in the warmth of his skin on yours. You floated, high on the feeling of pleasure that coursed through your veins, as Boba gave a few final thrusts. You felt him in the back of your throat, deeper than any other lover had ever been able to reach, and nearly sobbed as you felt him fill you. He remained inside for a moment, his own ragged breath easily covering the sound of your gasp, before he pulled away and glanced between your legs.

He watched as the mixture of your releases dripped onto the sheets of his bunk as you came down from your high before he lifted his head to give you a feral grin. Before you could question it, Boba was making his way between your thighs and pressing them even further apart. You were too boneless to do much more than lie there, a hand on his shoulder, as you shuddered at the feeling of his breath on your thighs.

Boba wasted no time between your thighs, eagerly licking at your folds, and you keened as he worked you up for the fourth time. It was devastating, watching him greedily lap up everything you had to offer, and you had to shove him away to finally regain your breath. He remained for a moment, watching your cunt clench around nothing, before he moved to press a final kiss to your lips. You savored the taste of your combined releases on his tongue, savored the weight of him pressed against you, and whined when he pulled away.

“Get some rest.” When you blinked up at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion and confusion as to why he was leaving you, Boba shook his head. “I don’t think you want your Mandalorian to find us like this, little one.”

At the mention of Din, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The little voice, the one that had begged you not to follow Boba to his quarters, had been silenced by your lust but was freed by Boba’s title for him; ‘your Mandalorian.’ What would he think, returning to find you naked and sated in Boba’s bed? Or would he even think about it at all?

You didn’t know, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t think you wanted to figure out.

“You’re only human, girl,” Boba repeated, his voice cutting through the noise in your head. “We all need physical comfort sometimes. Get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

As you watched Boba straighten his pants and disappear from his quarters, presumably back to the cargo area, you felt exhaustion begin to outweigh your racing thoughts. Boba wouldn’t say anything to Din, you knew that, and you wondered if you should. That had gotten you nowhere the last time, even farther from your dreams than you’d ever been to start, and it wasn’t as if you were anything to him.

There was nothing there; at least, nothing that you wanted. There wasn’t a clear path to get it, either. He’d made that very clear. Din put up walls, made of beskar and heavily guarded, and you were tired of attempting to break them down only to be pushed even farther away.

You still wanted him, more than anything in the galaxy, but, for the first time since you met, you were beginning to realize that there were other paths for you to follow. Din leaving you behind wouldn’t be the end of the world - a terrifying pause, certainly, but not the end.

You had options, a life to lead even if Din wasn’t in it, and you took solace in the idea that you could find comfort in the touch of another. There was more to life than Din, more to life than chasing after a man who no longer wanted you, and as you drifted to sleep with Boba’s scent surrounding you, you hoped that whatever was next would be kind to you. You hoped that it would afford you peace and tranquility, a moment of rest after a lifetime of worry.

But, in the back of your mind - the part untouched by the clarity of possibilities - you still hoped that Din would return to you.

___________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I started this with the intent of it becoming a threesome. That... clearly did not happen. We had feelings and this thing sort of went left. I don’t know what this is and I’m sorry for it. But I hope you at least enjoy it? (Also, not to be a Boba fucker on main but, like, damn.)

#boba fett x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian imagine #star wars imagine #the mandalorian x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #v's fics

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rxin3akamallory · 2 years ago

Text

I’m doing this game because I wanna!!

(NC) = Non canon

1) Gill X Peach (Finding Nemo) (NC)

2) Dory X Marlin (Finding Nemo) (NC)

3) Cosmo X Wanda (The Fairly Oddparents) (C)

4) Sakura X Syaoran (Cardcaptor Sakura) (C)

5) Kara X Luther (Detroit: Become Human) (NC)

6) Kenji X Brooklyn (Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous) (C)

7) Oscar X Bea (Fish Hooks) (C)

8) Tohru X Kyo (Fruits Basket) (C)

9) Nick X Judy (Zootopia) (NC?)

10) Gloria X Melman (Madagascar) (C)

1) Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

So Kenji/Brooklyn was barely implied in CC until Season 4 so for a while I was actually a Darius/Brooklyn shipper. But then episode 4 of season 2 happened and there was a small moment with them and I was like “hm okay, I can see why people ship it.” Then episode 6 of season 3 happens.

For context, a new hybrid dinosaur Dr. Wu created in secret, the scorpious rex, poisons one of the main characters, Sammy, with it’s spines. While Yaz runs to the med bay to get the antidote, Brooklyn and Kenji stay behind to keep Sammy company. Kenji is understandably freaked out by the situation and Brooklyn comforts him.

Brooklyn: “Kenji, it’s okay. I’m scared too.”

Kenji: “What? Y-You are.”

Brooklyn: “Yeah, I just like, freely admitted that.”

*Sammy groans while unconscious*

Kenji: “I’m not scared. I-I mean.. I am, it’s just… What if she (Sammy)… None if my friends have ever-

Brooklyn: Don’t say it. Yaz is gonna come back with the antidote, and then everything will be fine.

Kenji: “What if she (Yaz) doesn’t find it? Wh-What if it doesn’t work?”

Brooklyn: “Kenji… Kenji, look at me. The only thing we can control is helping her (Sammy) feel better. And right now, we have to do whatever we can.”

(I wish I can find these clips separately in full because omg!!!)

But what really made me shift before it was canon was episode 10 of season 3.

Basically the main characters find a laptop with research Dr. Wu left behind to create a dangerous hybrid dinosaur, the scorpious rex. Before Wu can retrieve his laptop from Isla Nublar, the kids take it for themselves. Unfortunately while they’re running from Wu and his group, Brooklyn gets caught and is held captive unless the kids give Wu his laptop.

The group try to strategize what to do and they ultimately decide to delete the research off the laptop first before retrieving Brooklyn. All but Kenji. Kenji is the only one (if I remember correctly) that keeps insisting they go and get her right away because the files were taking too long to delete, only to be shot down. Kenji then decides to steal the laptop before the evidence was 100% deleted and finds Brooklyn about to be flown off the island with Dr. Wu and his team.

This what started to make me really like Kenji as a character, the fact that he made this tough decision and betraying his friends just to save Brooklyn. Like holy shit!!

Plus every scene with them after is just so adorable, I love them sm!!

2) Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

MULTIPLE! Like so many, I can’t even count them on my fingers.

My favorite is Of Fish and Men from Fanfiction.net

3) Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr screen saver?

No because I don’t have anyone to match with me :,c

4) If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

I’d abandon ship, love ain’t real anymore-

5) Why is 1 so important?

They are THE comfort ship of mine. Both Gill and Peach, Gill especially, are parental comfort characters of mine, so they’re like that my parents that are those parents that act lovey doves to make the kids embarrassed. Like they kiss and the kids go “oooooo!” or “ew!!”

6) Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Dead serious. I’ve shipped WildeHopps since Zootopia came out.

7) Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

I’d say Kyo and Tohru. (This is your sign to watch Fruits Basket, it’s so good!!)

8) Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

This is a tough one for sure. I’m gonna choose three because I can’t decide one just one

Oscar and Bea,

The childhood besties, we love that

Kenji and Brooklyn,

Literally almost died multiple times to save each other!

And Marlin and Dory,

Because not everyone is willing to travel halfway across the ocean to find your missing child.

9) How many times have your read/watched 10’s fandom?

Idk what this question is referring to so I’m gonna answer in terms of the media.

I rewatched the Madagascar films, mainly one and two, multiple times as a kid, two especially because of the Melman/Gloria scenes!! And just because Escape 2 Africa is the best in my opinion. I’ve seen Europe’s Most Wanted a few times as well but didn’t rewatch it as much. In terms of Penguins of Madagascar I’ve only seen the movie once and barely seen the show. The holiday specials I’ve seen once or twice but I’m definitely gonna rewatch them again! And A Little Wild I’ve only seen Season 1. It was okay.

10) Which ship has lasted the longest?

Dory and Marlin, I’ve shipped them since I was a kid, Melman and Gloria would also be up there.

11) How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Once in season 5 and it was DREADFUL!!

12) If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

8, purely because of Kyo’s true form.

13) Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

No, but Oscar had hidden his crush from Bea until he confessed to her at graduation. He got close to saying his feelings a few times though. Then when the graduation episode happened, Bea realized her crush on Oscar but Shellsea encouraged Bea to not tell Oscar just simply because she could do better. (Not true at all girl-)

14) Is 4 still together?

Yep!! And I’m so happy!!

15) Is 10 canon?

Yep and I couldn’t be happier!

16) If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

So I’m not fully familiar with how the hunger games works, but I would say Cosmo and Wanda because of their magic. They could literally poof all of the other couples away in a snap.

17) Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

No because they aren’t canon and I’m sad.

18) Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

GILL AND PEACH AND DORY AND MARLIN! We ride together, we DIE together!

19) Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

No because they’re barely posted on Tumblr and I’m sad.

20) If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

I hate this question, WHYYYY

Judy and Nick ig :c

OTP Game

Pick your top 10 OTPs without reading the questions.

Damon x Elena (TVD)

Francis x Mary (Reign)

Jace x Clary (TMI)

Hook x Emma (OUAT)

Oliver x Felicity (Arrow)

Dean x Castiel (SPN)

Percy x Annabeth (PJ)

Spike x Buffy (BtVS)

Draco x Hermione (HP)

Isaac x Allison (TW)

Keep reading

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ladyelain · 3 years ago

Note

Wait I'm so confused lol, El/riels get mad that we're "forcing her away from her family" by thinking Elain would thrive in the Day Court w/ Lucien. But then they want her to rule the Dusk Court w/ Azriel...which is also "away from her family." Like make it make sense, I thought y'all said she needs to be in the NC with her sisters. 😭 (Also this argument makes no sense b/c they can literally winnow to e/o when they want to visit.)

One of the biggest myths about Eluciens is that we want Elain to stay as far from Velaris as possible because apparently we hate the IC / the Night Court and so does Elain.

Which literally implies that moving away from home automatically means you're on bad terms with your family, when there are plenty of other reasons for moving. (Like, I feel personally offended lol.) If anything, distance teaches you to value and appreciate the love you have even more.

Nobody ever wants to "force" Elain away from her family.

#she’s gonna want to leave herself lol #don’t quite get it #elucien #elain archeron #asks

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Note

Quick question, I’m currently writing my first Zemo x reader fic (my first reader fic in general and my first fic in three years… the Zemo thirst is real) and was curious how you determine the rating for your fic?

I’ve never written smut, so I’m not sure if that will be in there but there will be some things implied via thoughts, a little implied Sir kink, and other implied things. I’m tempted to rate it M in case the rating goes up, but was curious how you go about rating yours if you don’t mind answering? Thanks!

ooh that's tricky, to be honest I write so much smut that I usually have an easy job of just labeling it all E/X but I'm gonna give my personal take on this below:

explicit, described smut (as in, somebody's genitals get interacted with): E for Explicit, X

implied smut, heavy petting, making out: M for Mature, NC-17

sexual comments/innuendo: T for Teen, PG-13

and then obviously none of those would be general audiences c:

that said, as long as you describe everything in the warnings themselves then the rating is just a formality! hope this helps!

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aurekfonts · 4 years ago

Text

Translating the Sacred Jedi Texts - Part I

By Ender Smith

Adapted from the original twitter thread

This is the first part of an ongoing Jedi Text Translation series

The Sacred Jedi Texts are ancient writings of the Jedi religion in the world of Star Wars. Though their appearance is limited to just two of the films (The Last Jedi, and The Rise of Skywalker), they are given the thematic weight of representing the entire history of the Jedi religion.

In The Last Jedi, Yoda opines: “Read them, have you? Page turners they were not!”

Likewise, Phil Szostak (Lucasfilm creative art manager) has warned:

“designers don’t have time to add Easter eggs, lore hints or layers of symbolism (outside of the obvious). If you’re searching for hidden meaning in #StarWars art, it’s simply not there.”

Let us keep those thoughts in mind as we begin to explore and translate the Jedi Texts.

Jedi Texts Filler 01 by Dan Burke

Several unobscured pages of the Sacred Jedi Texts can be seen in The Art of Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker by Phil Szostak. The pages themselves appear to be assembled from individual blocks of text and illustrations, in order to meet the high demand of pages required for the film.

By cross-referencing these images with the Visual Dictionary, we learn that this language seems to be interchangeably referred to as “Protobesh” and “Coremaic.”

The implied etymology of the name “Coremaic” is that the language comes from the galactic core, the core worlds, or perhaps a specific planet such as Corellia or Coruscant.

“Protobesh“ meanwhile might refer to a precursor/prototypical form of Aurebesh, the most common alphabet in the Old Republic, Imperial, and New Republic eras.

Since many alphabets in Star Wars are simple substitution ciphers for English (equivalent to the in-universe “Basic”), I decided to try an automatic tool to decrypt them. (Boxentriq is my favourite).

After trying various blocks of text, and adjusting the decryption parameters, I was nearly ready to concede that it was untranslatable gibberish, until a single passage caught my attention, from the left-hand page of Jedi Texts Filler 01 by Dan Burke:

I noticed a couple of repeated words, one with 3 letters, and another with 4. After some trial and error, I began to see words resolve throughout the passage:

It reads [sic]:

IN THE SECOND PHASE OF EACH STAR CYCLE THE JEDI THE JEDI IS OFFER ED. ORCE OF THEIR.

While some of the sentences are incomplete, the pendulum had swung entirely the other way, and I was certain it could be translated!

So I turned to the right-hand page to see how accurately I could decipher it.

Translating a Lengthy Passage

There are definitely some new letters mixed in there, but because I had already accounted for over half of the alphabet in the first passage, it was possible to work out the missing letters using context:

It reads in its entirety [sic]:

IN THE SECOND PHASE OF EACH STAR CYCLE THE C THE JEDI IS OFFERED THE CHANCE TO ALIGN THEIR BEING WITH THTHE ORCEOF THEIR CHOSENCRYSTAL.

THE FORCEIS STRONGEST THE FORCE FLO WS FREELY THE FORCE IS ALL.

THIS M EANOTHING TO ME.

[this line is not readable, due to corruption in my source image] COMMON.

IS OFT EN AND EASIL Y MIS ALIGNED.

SPLIT PIECES CAN BE NO LONGER OF NEL TOANEL THE FORCEFAIL ED PIECES ARE HIGHLY. AND THEREFORE ILL EGAL TO TRAD E PIECES ARE TRADED AMOUNGST THE SMUGGL ERS AND BLACK MARKE EERS AS AS A POWER SOURCE.

KRC FOUR ALTHUGH COMMON IS OFT EN AND EASILY MIS ALIGNED FIVE SPLIT PIECES CAN BE NO LONGER THE FORCEFAILED PIECES ARE HIGHLY VOL ITILE.

A) AND THEREFORE ILL EGAL TO TRADE B) PIECES ARE OFT EN TRAD AMOUNG ST THE SMUGGLERS

C) AND BLACK MARKE EERS AS A POWER SOURCE

D) KCR FOUR ALT HOUGH COMMON

E) IS OFT EN AND EASILY MISALIGNED

F) SECTION NC TW O DENSITY RAT IO EIGHT SIXTHS CENTRAL ALITION

AND THER EFORE ILLEGAL TRADE PI ECES AR TO TRADE PI ARE OFT EN TRAD AMOUNGST THE SMUGGL ERS AND BLACK MARKE EERS AS A POW ER SOURCE

ALIGNMENT

IGNITION PROCESS

CRYSTAL WILL SDIVIDE INTO THREE PIECES IS MIS ALIGNE S IS MIS ALIGNED VOLITILE ALTHOUGH COMMON.

Making Sense of it All

As you may be able to tell, there are several statements mixed together on this page with varying degrees of coherence.

I have attempted to reconstruct each source-statement as follows:

Regarding a ritual for the spiritual alignment of the crystal with the Jedi’s being:

In the second star cycle, the Jedi is offered the chance to align their being with the Force of their chosen crystal.

The Force is strongest when the Force flows freely. The Force is all.

Regarding the physical alignment of the crystal in the lightsaber:

Central alignment [with an accompanying illustration]

Ignition process [with an accompanying graph]

Section NC-2: Density ratio 8:6

Regarding flawed and damaged crystals:

[Crystals with some particular defect] are often and easily misaligned.

Split pieces can be no longer [functional? useable?].

The Force-failed pieces are highly volatile and therefore illegal to trade.

Pieces are therefore traded amongst the smugglers and black-marketeers as a power source.

Regarding the author’s personal feelings at time of writing:

This means nothing to me.

In Conclusion: Was Yoda Right?

If we take the literal text on the page as canonical, as existing exactly like this in the diegesis of the films, this particular Sacred Text seem to exhibit circular, stream-of-consciousness meditations upon complex scientific, religious, and economic systems. If so, I think we would be justified in agreeing with Yoda that “Page turners they were not.”

As for Phil Szostak’s statement from before, that “designers don’t have time to add Easter eggs, lore hints or layers of symbolism (outside of the obvious). If you’re searching for hidden meaning in #StarWars art, it’s simply not there,” I think it is important that we take it in context.

The concept artists behind Star Wars often do not spend more than a couple of hours on an individual painting. The pressures of the production schedule require artists to work quickly and iteratively. Ideas are thrown out and scrapped at a rapid pace as the story, design, and construction is undertaken.

While these pages are filled with references to kyber crystals and Jedi rituals, there is nothing too profound or complicated discussed. The repetition is the result of quickly copied phrases that are there to fill space and to visually tell a story of the volumes of Jedi texts and the writings they contain. That they contain any lore at all is remarkable, but we must not take that to mean that anything they say is immutable canon.

In other words, take the artist’s words at face-value here: “The Force flows freely. The Force is all. This means nothing to me.”

Resources & Acknowledgements

Here is my Protobesh alphabet chart based on my translations:

Ender Smith is the editor-in-chief of AurekFonts: the unofficial archive of in-universe Star Wars fonts.

Support future translations and typographic design at ko-fi.com/aurekfonts.

All photos used are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. They have been used altered and unaltered for educational and critical purposes in accordance with Fair Use law.

#star wars #the last jedi #sacred jedi texts #aurebesh #rise of skywalker #translation #sw-translation #protobesh #coremaic #sjt-translation

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jaeknightorbats · 5 years ago

Text

Tunnel Caprica [M] part 5

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre: Smut, dark romance, Rich!Sehun, Convenience Store Worker!Baekhyun

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a seemingly wealthy man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards. It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content(!), substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 5

Word count: 5.7k words

Chapter warnings: Explicit language, mild graphic descriptions

‘Why the fuck did I say yes.’

Baekhyun was anxious all afternoon.

He couldn’t get his head off of the possibilities that could happen later that night at High C’s, the club downtown that Sehun talked about. Baekhyun had never been there since it was an exclusive place. He’d barely been in that area, especially at night—where he had heard stories that the driveway was often packed with sports and luxury cars with people coming out of it in the weirdest fashion, both literally and figuratively.

Baekhyun was never really the type to hang around in bars or clubs frequently, he only did so when a friend invited him on some occasions, and it’s a good excuse to socialize and let loose. But it had been months since he was last invited, he had been too focused on his own commitments.

‘I must protect Yuri,’ he thought. ‘I must protect myself.’

Sehun wasn’t picky with his prey. He didn’t discriminate. He would insert his damn cock to whichever hole he wanted. That was what Baekhyun was afraid of—Sehun’s unpredictability.

He couldn’t tell Yuri what kind of a person Sehun was because that would only reveal what had happened between him and Sehun.

‘Or maybe I’m overthinking things?’ He wondered. ‘He seems harmless outside the bed.’

“What the hell am I complaining about? He gave me 4K,” he mumbled to himself as he twisted the shower knob off. He was in the shower.

Water dripped from the tips of his hair falling to the wet tiled floor of his bathroom. And his eyes noticed the bush that was going around down there, protecting his dignity. If he still had one. Not after what had happened the night before. Then he remembered Sehun’s—that looked alluring. Baekhyun wondered if he had his cleaned, he wondered would it look as pleasing?

Baekhyun suddenly couldn’t get the idea off his mind, suddenly having the urge to cut his bush down right that moment. Maybe it would make him feel better, more confident about himself. And it may be convenient to cut it down this moment than later.

‘I’m not doing this for anyone.’ Baekhyun thought to himself. ‘I’m doing this for myself. No, I’m not trying to impress anyone. Not because we’d meet later.’

“Just a trim,” he muttered to himself, staring down.

‘Just so it happens there’s a party tonight. Just pure coincidence.’

“Just a trim,” he repeated.

“What took you so long? Did you sleep there?” Yuri asked, eyeing Baekhyun when he stepped out of the bathroom, as she hooked a large hoop earring on one ear.

Baekhyun scratched his crotch over his shorts, and topless. He stretched his neck from side to side from the sore he felt while doing the procedure. He then stroked his stomach and answered Yuri’s question, “Upset tummy.”

Yuri looked back at the mirror, convinced with his answer.

“What are you wearing?” Baekhyun asked with a frown while he was drying his hair with a towel.

After she hooked the other earring on her other ear, she turned to him with an open arm and said, “Well, how do I look?”

Baekhyun stopped drying his hair, a bit stunned, while he evaluated Yuri’s look when she faced her whole body to him. The first thing he noticed were her perky breasts under her string strapped red cropped top. Then she’s also wearing a black high waist mini skirt, revealing a part of her abdomen, finishing it with a black heel. “That’s too revealing,” Baekhyun uttered.

Yuri looked down over her outfit. “No, it’s not,” she retorted. “Besides, this is my best clothes. And this is the only thing I brought.” They had stopped by at Yuri’s place to pick up some of her clothes earlier. She continued, looking back at the mirror in front of her, “You have no choice. If you only listened to me, we could’ve bought clothes earlier.”

Baekhyun arched his brow. “With what?”

She looked at him over the mirror, opening her eyes wide open as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“The money?” Baekhyun answered himself, referring to the money he received from Sehun.

She raised her shoulders. “Yeah. What else are you going to do with it?” She then gasped, eyes glimmering, “Oh! We can finally go on a trip, Baek!”

“A trip?”

“Yeah!”

A trip, something Baekhyun hadn’t thought about. Then images of white beaches and warmer climate appeared in his mind since his country, Ioca, was full of mountains and lands. They could totally afford to go a much less-earthy place with the money he gained. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he agreed with a wondering smile.

Yuri’s lips curved upwards, delighted that Baekhyun seemed to like the idea. So she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders. “Right?”

Baekhyun stared down at her and wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist. She smelled good with the usual Eau de Cologne she wore, her eyes looked strong with the dark eye makeup she had. “You look pretty.”

Yuri blushed, and tiptoed to reach for Baekhyun’s lips. “I love you, baby.”

Baekhyun kissed her again, then said, “I gotta get changed.”

“Okay, my handsome boy.” She stared endearingly at him while gently stroking her palm across Baekhyun’s buffed chest to his slender stomach that tickled him. Her hand kept stroking down until she got a hold of his shaft, and squeezed them. Baekhyun grunted, his stomach tensing, suddenly feeling weak. She bit her lower lip and moaned. Then suddenly, she slightly jumped from her position, jerking her hand away from him, as if she got pricked by a thorn. Then Yuri gazed at Baekhyun with a frown, studying him. Then she said slowly, “Okay, go get changed.”

It was past nine in the evening, Baekhyun and Yuri had finished preparing. Baekhyun was wearing a pair of black jeans, a tacky denim jacket over a white shirt. Yuri was looking at him quizzically by the door.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” Baekhyun asked, approaching Yuri.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing something more… suave? Like the one you wore to his party?”

“Babe, it’s a club. No one would see me there.” He added, “People sometimes go to clubs with just shirts.”

“I know, but have you seen that man?” Her eyes opened wide, and jabbered, “That suave looking man who just stood out there outside your place this morning? That man? They’ll probably be in their suits.” Baekhyun didn’t speak, but he began to think twice. Yuri huffed, “Just make sure don’t ridicule us in front of them.”

Baekhyun shrugged and opened the front door of his place. He left his car parked on the side of the street after he and Yuri came back from Yuri’s place, picking up Yuri’s things.

“Don’t you think we should call an Uber instead?” Yuri asked, looking at the car with contempt.

“What’s wrong with my car?”

“I mean, you may never know what could happen. You can’t drive if you drink,” she said, implying that there could be a possibility they’d drink.

“We’re not gonna drink,” uttered Baekhyun firmly. No, he had no plan on drinking. Not after what had happened that night.

“But you’re not sure about that, babe.”

“Well, I’m not gonna drink,” he retorted.

Yuri went quiet, then she pouted, “I’m telling you, baby—I’ve said the same thing myself before. And I always end up drinking.”

Baekhyun sighed, because he himself was guilty of the feeling. He always ended up drinking. However, this time, he felt so sure about not drinking even though he could drive. “No, I promise I won’t drink. I have a job tomorrow, remember?” Although Sehun's job for him was in the afternoon, he couldn’t take any chances to have another hangover.

Yuri grunted in frustration. “Can we just call an Uber?” She pulled her phone out of her tiny purse that could only hold her large phone, a compact powder and lipstick, not even her wallet could fit. She only brought bills.

“You don’t like going there with my car?”

“Yeah, I don’t,” she grumbled as she tapped on her phone. “Baek, these are rich people. Have some self-respect. At least make yourself look presentable.”

“Babe, the car’s not going inside. We’re just going to park it somewhere.”

Yuri gave Baekhyun a side-eye, glaring at him, then looked back at her phone. “Ha-bloody-ha. Very funny.” Then her mouth circled when something popped out on her phone, someone took her booking. “We got a Mercedes Benz.” She smirked at him. “Two minutes.”

“Benz? You took premium?”

She arched a brow. “Of course.”

Two minutes came by, the shiny black sedan parked outside Baekhyun’s place. Yuri grinned when the vehicle came by, Baekhyun only gently smiled at his girlfriend, shaking his head. It didn’t feel overwhelming for Baekhyun when they entered the luxury vehicle, and it also seemed a bit old. At least they could tell they had ridden a Mercedes.

Yuri sat closely to Baekhyun, cuddling herself into his shoulder, and Baekhyun wrapped one arm around her waist. “I’m excited,” she said. “It’s been so long since we went out like this at night. Did you miss it?”

Baekhyun scoffed. “Not really.”

“Why? You’re so fun when you’re drunk.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, you’re just so fun.” She looked up at Baekhyun and closed her eyes, pouting, for a kiss while quietly humming an ‘Mmmh.’

Baekhyun gulped, staring down at his girlfriend. He avoided her lips but instead leaned closer to her ears, and whispered, “Baby, we’re in someone else’s car.”

Yuri’s eyes remain closed. “So what?”

Baekhyun glanced at the rear-view mirror of the car and caught the driver looking at them, then they both avoided each other’s gazes. “Yuri, c’mon.” Baekhyun slightly pushed her away, then looked through the window.

But Yuri still leaned her head on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “But isn’t he so handsome?”

Baekhyun looked at Yuri. “Who? Sehun?”

“Yeah. He looked like a celebrity. He’s so tall!”

Baekhyun almost thought the same thing on his first encounter with Sehun at the convenience store. He had thought Sehun was lost inside the convenience store.

“Baek, what does he do?” Yuri questioned.

Baekhyun was lost in his thoughts when Yuri asked a question, then slowly, he understood it. “What?” Now that he thought about it, he never really knew. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Maybe business?” He guessed.

“What the hell did you do to his party then? You didn’t even get to know him?”

“Get to know him?” He repeated her question with a hint of mockery. Why would he want to get to know him? Then, in a snap, he remembered everything about Sehun. Every-thing. Regret consumed him that left him wordless. But he immediately snapped out of it. “Oh! I remember it now,” he exclaimed, pretending that he remembered what Sehun does for a living. “I was a bit tipsy that time when he was talking about it. He, uh,” he was thinking of a lie to stop Yuri from asking more questions, “he’s in the art business. Selling art.” He remembered the man named Chen from Sehun’s party who was trying to sell his art to Sehun, and used this story to cover himself.

Yuri arched a brow. “That’s it?”

“Y-Yeah, rich people like to buy art.”

“Where’d you even learn that?”

“That’s what he said. ‘Cuz they have nothing else to do with their money.” Saying that himself suddenly made Baekhyun envious of these rich people’s lives, even if it was only a wild guess. If he only had that kind of money at his disposal.

“Really?” Even Yuri was surprised. “How much do they—“

“I have no idea, Yuri. Like I said, I was tipsy.”

“Gosh. Imagine if I was that rich, too.”

A loud muffled music and rowdy people from the outside caught Baekhyun’s attention, so he looked through the window and saw a convertible passed by them with people throwing their hands up while the music in the car played so loudly. “I think we’re close,” Baekhyun said.

Yuri detached herself away from Baekhyun and exchanged looks between the windshield and the window. They were beginning to see a line of shiny luxury vehicles and sports cars in bright red, pearl white, pitch crystal black, opulent blue—one was even in lime gold—parked along the street. Baekhyun was now feeling thankful for Yuri’s suggestion to take an Uber. Because driving along this street of wealth with his car would eat him alive, the same thing that almost happened to him when he had gone to Sehun’s mansion.

They were finally approaching the infamous High C, people were coming in with such manner and glamour, and people coming out on someone’s shoulders, walking wobbly. Baekhyun even spotted one throwing up already at the sidewalk. Baekhyun clenched his jaws; being in a club was all fun but it wasn’t the safest place at all.

After paying for their fare to the Uber driver, Baekhyun and Yuri got out of the vehicle and they were already feeling the party with the unruly people outside—shouting, smoking, one couple were making out. People in such peculiar and questionable fashion coming out from a vintage Mustang, two-seater sports cars, still sober. All those vehicles that Baekhyun only saw on the internet, now these cars were having a feast in this street.

Yuri bit her lips, Baekhyun could see the excitement in her eyes. There was always a certain feeling to be in a club—a sudden boost of arrogance and confidence, high sex drives, and ready to forget about themselves for a night.

“Wooh,” Baekhyun heaved. He couldn’t contain himself, he knew this would be intense.

Baekhyun and Yuri held hands as they approached the bouncer that was about 6 foot tall with large muscles and broad shoulders. But the bouncer blocked the entry door without saying anything, and he didn’t need to say anything—him blocking them was already intimidating.

Yuri courteously smiled at the bouncer and said, “We have a friend inside, uhm, Sehun?” She glanced at Baekhyun. “Oh Sehun?” Baekhyun nodded at her as confirmation. Yuri looked back at the bouncer. “Oh Sehun. We’re with him.”

The bouncer frowned at the couple, studying them. “Go to line,” he simply said under his rough voice. Baekhyun and Yuri turned their heads to their right and didn’t notice there was a long line going on to enter the club.

“But, mister,” persuaded Yuri, “I’m telling the truth. We have—”

“Line.” The bouncer couldn’t be swayed, even with Yuri’s beauty.

Yuri looked at Baekhyun. “Baby, do something about this. Call him.”

“I-I—“ Baekhyun pulled his phone out of his pocket, nervous.

“Go make your call at the line. Don’t block the way,” said the bouncer.

“No, we’re going to stay here ‘till we meet our friend, Oh Sehun.”

“Get in line,” said the bouncer more firmly.

“C’mon, Yuri.” Baekhyun pulled Yuri’s elbow..

“But, Baekhyun.”

Then the bouncer suddenly smiled, stepped aside, and let a couple enter the club without even lining up. The man slid something on the bouncer’s jacket pocket—perhaps a tip—and patted the bouncer’s back as they entered the club.

“Baek, maybe you can bribe him,” Yuri suggested while she was getting dragged at the back of the line.

“No, we’re not gonna bribe anyone.”

They finally reached the end of the line. Yuri grunted in frustration. “But, baby, we’re going to take ages here. By the time we get in, it’ll be the closing time.” Then she asked, “Are you calling Sehun?”

“He’s not picking up.”

“Ugh. Maybe the music’s too loud inside.”

It was already 10:30 PM, Sehun had said 10 PM, yet Baekhyun and Yuri were still at the line, barely moving. Yuri was frustrated, and Baekhyun’s patience was also getting tested.

“Why isn’t he picking up?” Yuri complained.

Baekhyun clenched his jaws, also annoyed at Sehun. Annoyed being in line. Baekhyun then saw in his peripherals a tall vehicle cruising in the street. And a sudden relief washed over him in a wave when he saw that black G-Wagon that he once drove when was saving Sehun. This must be Sehun. It should be, he desperately thought, already pissed off standing outside for so long.

And without fail, a long legged man stepped out of the vehicle after parking his car on the other side of the street. It was Sehun. He was wearing a white button-up shirt over a black and white suit--half white and half black, and a pair of white slim dress pants that amplified his height.

“Oh, my god. That’s him, isn’t it?” Yuri moans, also relieved.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Sehun crossed the street, eyes on the bouncer, ready to enter without lining up.

“Sehun!” Yuri yelped out of desperation, raising her hand to get his attention. At this point, Baekhyun didn’t care if Yuri embarrassed them, he just wanted to come.

Sehun stopped from walking from a distance and turned his head to their direction. He narrowed his gaze, still not moving. Baekhyun threw his hand up, maybe Sehun could recognize them. And Sehun’s face relaxed after recognizing Baekhyun. He waved, signaling them to step forward to him. And it was such a relief to finally get out of the line.

“Hey!” Sehun greeted them when the couple reached them. “I almost forgot I invited you tonight. Have you been here long?”

“Yes—“ Yuri.

“No, we just got here, too,” Baekhyun lied out of politeness. Yuri glared at him.

“That’s good.”

“I thought you don’t like late people,” said Baekhyun.

Sehun scoffed. “This is the club, man. The later you are, the better.” Then Sehun paid attention to Baekhyun’s outfit. “What are you wearing?”

“What’s wrong?”

Sehun frowned, slightly shaking his head in disapproval. Then he looked at the people in the line and walked towards one of the people in the front. “Hey, how much would you take to trade with my friend’s jacket?” He asked a younger looking man about Baekhyun’s size in a sheen gray blazer.

“What?” The man exclaimed, confused.

“One hundred dollars?” Sehun asked even if the man didn’t understand Sehun’s question.

“Whose jacket?”

Sehun pointed at Baekhyun. “His. So $100?”

The man peeked at Baekhyun. “No, my suit’s not for sale.”

“One-eighty dollars?” Sehun offered higher, the man had gone silent.

“Tw-two hundred,” the man countered.

Sehun scoffed. “Two hundred?” He repeated, amazed by the man’s audacity as if Sehun wasn’t bold enough to ask for some stranger’s suit. “Fine.”

The man pursed his lips. And just like that, the man said, “Deal.”

Sehun snapped his fingers at Baekhyun who was standing behind him, Baekhyun immediately understood so he removed his tacky jacket and exchanged it for the better-looking suit.

“Come,” then Sehun said, walking back to the bouncer with the couple, after giving the man some money. Then Sehun placed a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder after Baekhyun put on the suit. “I like my associates to look presentable in front of my friends.”

Baekhyun only listened, then Sehun walked past by him to face the bouncer. “They’re with me,” Sehun said. The bouncer did not say anything and unhook the velvet rope to let them enter. Sehun quickly shook the bouncer’s hand and patted his back. “Thanks, Taec.”

Loud music drowned the noise from the outside when they entered the dark place, and lights only came in the flashes off the dance floor. The club was packed. Conversations were only possible by screaming. Sehun led the way, followed by Yuri, and Baekhyun was holding Yuri’s hand while they walked past the jammed crowd.

Baekhyun leaned to Yuri’s ear and shouted, “Aren’t you cold?” It was also ice cold inside and Yuri was wearing clothes that revealed too much of her skin.

“No, I’m fine,” Yuri shouted back while they followed Sehun. “I’m going to drink anyway,” she added.

Sehun then stepped to a staircase leading to the second floor of the nightclub. Baekhyun had never been into the second floor of any nightclub since couches and tables were usually much more expensive to pay for due to its exclusivity (if they wanted a much more private place). He barely even sat into any couches on the first floor, he and his friends only paid for the high tables—those without chairs (so they only stood)—when he used to go out at nightclubs. Music was much less harsh on the second floor so they didn’t have to use all of their voices to talk. And it was also much less packed. They could overlook the dance floor from above.

Sehun finally stopped in front of a table with a U-shaped couch, and people in that table began to greet him.

“Hey, man!” Sehun did a man handshake with a man that seemed to be as tall as Baekhyun. And Sehun did another with a man taller than Sehun that could reach him. The table was almost full with men and women in it.

Sehun stepped back to present Baekhyun and Yuri to the table. Sehun patted Baekhyun’s chest, “This is Byun Baekhyun,” he looked at Yuri, “and his girlfriend, Yuri.”

Baekhyun and Yuri received Heys and smiles.

“These are my friends,” Sehun gestured at each man at the table, “Lay, Kris, Tao, Luhan, and Kyungsoo. Also known as…?” He drawled, smirking at the table, waiting for them to complete his sentence.

“BBC!” The men in the table shouted proudly.

“BBC?” Yuri asked innocently.

“Billionaire Boys Club,” Sehun answered smugly. Yuri’s mouth opened. Even Baekhyun was in surprise.

“Hey, Sehun, how much is your net worth again?” A narrow shouldered man questioned provokingly.

“Oooh,” A blonde man reacted at the take.

“Very funny, Kyungsoo,” Sehun yapped, then mocked, “Hey, I heard your family is taking it hard with the stocks down.”

A man reached for the man named Kyungsoo’s shoulder and sympathetically patted them with a heavy hand while Kyungsoo’s eyes stayed round open.

Sehun scoffed then he gestured at the women at the table. “And, of course, these are their girlfriends.” But not everyone seemed to have brought a girlfriend since the number of women in the table isn’t proportional to the number of men. There were only three women besides Yuri.

People at the table cramped themselves to give seats for them. Yuri sat first, followed by Baekhyun, then Sehun sat last, sitting at the end of the couch. Best seat, in Baekhyun’s opinion— easy to get out of the table. The people in the table were wearing such colorful and patterned suits, women wearing intricate hairstyles and strong make ups. Baekhyun and Yuri were totally underdressed. But nobody seemed to pay attention but themselves.

“So, what do you do?” A woman shouted from the other end of the couch, asking Baekhyun.

Baekhyun suddenly felt intimidated with eyes all on him. He didn’t want to answer the question, especially if he would shout it across the table.

“He works for me,” Sehun answered for him. Then adds, “And why do you care?”

The woman arched her brows sassily—her cheeks already pink, her eyes already in a daze, drunk. “I just wanted to know.” Then she looked at Baekhyun as if evaluating him from face to his upper torso. And Baekhyun felt he was being judged, especially with how simple he looked.

Sehun then put two shot glasses in front of Baekhyun and Yuri and poured them with Absolut vodka that was already opened on top of the table. It seemed like the people on the table had been there fairly long with the half empty bottles and glasses scattered across the table. “Drink up,” said Sehun. Sehun only poured himself a glass of champagne. Yuri took the shot. And Baekhyun didn’t even think about it twice, he also took the shot. After the frustration he felt at the line, a shot of vodka felt deserved.

“What time did you land and you weren’t able to come to my party?” Sehun asked a tall man with black hair and hawk eyes who sat at the center of the chair who had a girl around his arm.

“I landed this noon,” he yelled over the loud music.

Sehun only nodded as a response while he sipped his champagne. Then he leaned over to Baekhyun’s ear and said loudly but not loud enough for everyone to hear, “The girl on his arm is not his wife. It’s his girlfriend.”

“What?” Baekhyun screamed. And after the buffer, he understood what Sehun had said. “He’s cheating?” He screamed in Sehun's ear.

“Don’t talk too loud!” Sehun shouted.

“But I can’t hear you!”

Then Sehun put a finger on his lip, smirking, shushing Baekhyun. One shot after another, Baekhyun could feel his body heating up but his mind was still sharp, he thought. People at the table laughed and talked loudly. Baekhyun and Yuri tried to socialize with them, especially Yuri, who was taking shot after shot—tasting all the alcohol in the table. And she was already looking red.

People were standing outside their table, minding their own business—partying, dancing, flirting, and whatnot.

Sehun was standing in front of a table with a glass of champagne at one hand, telling a story about a trip he had years ago. The hawked-eye man, Tao, complained that he had heard this story from Sehun, but Sehun liked telling his stories, so they had to endure him.

Some in the table were minding their own business, some were listening to Sehun, like Baekhyun and Yuri.

Baekhyun’s eyes then travelled to a pale white skin woman in black minidress with see-through sleeves who might pass by their table. Her hair was neatly ponytailed, her lips alluring red, and she wasn’t wearing too much makeup. Baekhyun thought she looked beautiful and elegant. And to his surprise, the woman stopped at their table, and that was also when a tall man in black suit and pants emerged from the dim lights who was with the woman. Baekhyun noticed that they were holding hands.

Sehun was in the middle of talking when the woman (or couple) stopped, and Sehun found himself somewhat dumbstruck.

The couple smiled and waved at the table, and people seemed to be delighted to see the couple with their cheerful greetings. Some threw their hands up to wave at them. The blonde hair man, Luhan, did a manly handshake with the tall and tanned man in black who was with the woman.

“Nayeon,” said Sehun, staring at the woman. Baekhyun noticed from the side that the woman’s dress was also backless, flaunting her white skin.

The woman turned her head to Sehun and quickly smiled. “Sehun.”

Sehun leaned forward to air-kiss the woman and gazed at her. “Beautiful as always.”

The woman chuckled gracefully, and Baekhyun thought that looked beautiful. She smiled, “It’s good to see you, Sehun.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Then the man with the woman interrupted, handing over his hand to Sehun, and called his name, “Sehun.”

Sehun hesitated to take the man’s hand for a shake, but then later took it, “Jongin.” They did a quick but firm handshake. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The tall man named Jongin smirked and chuckled, ignoring Sehun. Then he assisted the woman by holding her back to sit at the other side of the couch.

Sehun went from nonstop talking to a suddenly composed man. He unbuttoned his suit as he sat next to Baekhyun opposite the couple. He then leaned to Kyungsoo, who sat at the corner, next to Yuri and said, “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?”

“They told us the last minute!” Kyungsoo answered loudly.

Sehun hissed, shaking his head, and sat straight. He leaned to Baekhyun, eyes glued at the woman, and said, “That, my friend, is my ex-lover—Park Nayeon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Let me tell you something,” he pointed a finger at Baekhyun so Baekhyun leaned closer, “A real keeper, she is. I was serious about her.”

Baekhyun was in slight surprise to know about this information about him. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Sehun scoffed, repeating Baekhyun’s question. “What happened—well, you know women. I don’t understand why she’d go with that small dick Jongin when I’m the total package.” He poured himself a glass of Johnnie Walker gold label and drank it in one shot.

Baekhyun looked at the couple across the table. Jongin’s hand was resting at the backrest of the couch, while Nayeon was leaning against his chest while they chatted with Luhan who was sitting next to them. “They look good,” said Baekhyun.

Sehun scoffed, cocking a brow in disapproval. Then he took his flute glass of champagne, leaning his elbow against the backrest of the couch. “Jongin!” He yelled. But Jongin didn’t hear him over the loud music. “Jongin!” Sehun yelled again and everyone’s attention was at Sehun’s.

The man in black suit and black silk button-up that showed his chest and collarbones raised his brows after hearing his name.

“Why are you always in black? Are you some sort of grim reaper or something? Are you going to kill someone?” Sehun scoffed and laughed, looking across the table. Some also laughed with him. Baekhyun nervously chuckled.

The woman with him, Nayeon, pulled Jongin’s inner arm to whisper something to him. However, Sehun and Jongin locked eyes at each other intensely.

“I didn’t see you in fashion week in Paris last two weeks,” Sehun shouted, somehow changing the topic yet their eyes were telling differently with their dead stares. Even Baekhyun could feel the tension that was exuding. “I thought I’d see you in Versace’s show.”

“We were at Pilati’s,” Jongin answered, composed.

Sehun squinted one eye, leaning forward, as if he didn’t hear what Jongin had said over the music. “Who?”

“Pilati.”

“Who?”

“I think he said Pilati,” Baekhyun said to Sehun.

“We were at Stefano Pilati’s show, Sehun,” Nayeon said loudly to Sehun.

“Pilati, oh! Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Sehun said directly at the male. Sehun scoffed, “No wonder.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” The tallest man with the deepest voice in the table, Kris, clapped his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “We’re having a good time here, a’right?”

Sehun took a deep breath and so did the man on the other side and looked at his woman. Sehun finished his drink with a bitter face.

“How ‘bout we make a toast, a’right? For a good life?” Kris raised his glass of champagne, and a lot followed him with their own variety of drinks. “A lot of us haven’t seen each other for a while. Let’s bury what’s in the past, and be grateful for what's now, you sons of billionaire bitches.” People at the table laughed, easing the tense atmosphere with Kris’s short speech.

“Cheers to that!” Shouted Lay.

“Cheers!” Most people exclaimed, Baekhyun did so timidly.

Baekhyun totally ate his words about not drinking since people kept pouring his glass and yet he didn’t ever refuse a single shot. How could he? What power did he have to refuse such powerful people? Yuri was becoming louder after every shot and was becoming friendly with Lay, his girlfriend, and Kyungsoo.

“Yuri.” Baekhyun held Yuri’s waist from behind, feeling protective over her.

But Sehun then wrapped his arm around Baekhyun’s neck and pulled Baekhyun to him. His cologne was strong, and in the influence of alcohol, his cologne smelled stronger, amplifying all of his senses. Everyone started to look attractive, everyone started to sound funny. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks for inviting us.” Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Why did you invite us anyway?”

Sehun released Baekhyun from his arms. “Why can’t you be just grateful, Baekhyun?”

“No, I’m grateful. Thank you, Mr. Oh.”

Sehun guffawed, slamming one hand at the table. “Mr. Oh.” He shook his head, still laughing, wiping a fake tear off of his eye. “You’re way too serious, man. Anyway,” he lightly slapped Baekhyun’s chest, “How was it?”

“How was what?”

Sehun glanced at Yuri, cocking his brows, then his eyes travelled back to Baekhyun. Baekhyun immediately understood. But before Baekhyun could speak, Sehun said, “Have you found your true colors?”

Baekhyun wasn’t expecting that type of question. “What do you mean?”

Sehun leaned closer to Baekhyun, “I mean whom did you enjoy more—me or her?”

“What?” Baekhyun’s eyes were wide in horror. “What type of question is that?”

“You’re always so defensive, you’re too obvious.”

“How am I defensive?”

However, Sehun changed the question, “So how did it feel like to be inside a woman? Great?”

Baekhyun evaluated his experience with Yuri. “Yeah, it’s not so bad.”

Sehun scoffed. “I know. Fuck,” he grunted, cocking his head, as if he’s suddenly turned on. Then he asked, “Did you make her cry?”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “Cry?”

Sehun patted Baekhyun’s thigh heavily. “You, my friend, are gifted. Unlike this motherfucker,” he quickly pointed a finger across the table, pointing to the male in black talking to his woman as if the couple were the only people in the world with their eyes glimmering at each other. “That needle dick, Jongin,” he hissed. Then he looked back at Baekhyun, “I feel sad for her. Really.”

“Maybe it’s not all about the size.”

Sehun howled. “Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun. I know lots of people who would kneel for someone like you.”

“People?”

“Women… and men.”

Baekhyun’s face was in utter disgust. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not glad to hear that? It’s a huge compliment.” He pulled his Juuls that he was holding to his mouth and inhaled a deep smoke. He offered the tiny, sleek e-cigarette to Baekhyun if he wanted a smoke but Baekhyun declined as Sehun puffed the smoke out of his mouth and hose. It smelled fruity. “You don’t want it? It keeps your head straight with all these booze.”

Sure, Baekhyun’s head was all over the place but he didn’t feel he needed the smoke.

Sehun then smirked at Baekhyun, “That face you’re wearing is certainly not the face you had when I was inside you.”

Baekhyun’s face went blank. How should he feel about that?

Sehun stood up from his seat, he didn’t seem he had a lot of drinks as he still could stand straight and button his suit. He then told Baekhyun, “Come with me.”

A/N: Real sorry for the slow (and super sloppy) updates :-( But do let me know your thoughts, send notes, it does make me remember that I have to update this. Thank you!

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yeli-renrong · 5 years ago

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Another proposal for “direct representation of syllable structure” - this time to avoid requiring monosegmental representations of prenasalized stops in Sinhalese. But this direct representation of syllable structure is only necessary in derived forms - it doesn’t occur at the underlying level.

Sinhalese contrasts surface prenasalized stops with NC clusters: [kandə] ‘the hill’, [kaⁿdə] ‘the trunk’. The plurals of ‘hill’ and ‘trunk’ are [kaⁿdu] and [kaⁿdəwal] respectively. Feinstein’s derivations of these:

|kandw-a| ‘the hill’ kand.wa kand.da (with C + glide > CC) kan⦰.da (with loss of C2 in three-consonant clusters) kan.də [kandə]

|kand-a| ‘the trunk’ ka.nda ka.ndə [kaⁿdə]

|kandw| ‘hills’ ka.ndu [kaⁿdu]

Feinstein has two objections to analyzing prenasalized stops as obstruent nasals. First, it’s hard to represent the phonetic detail of whether or not the nasal component of the prenasalized stop is voiced. He doesn’t list this as being contrastive in any languages, and as far as I know it isn’t - whether or not featural theories should concern themselves with things that aren’t contrastive anywhere is a matter of taste. Second, Sinhalese has automatic nasalization of vowels in two environments: immediately adjacent to nasals on either side, and preceding a prenasalized stop. This is easier to describe if prenasalized stops are NC clusters. But unless there are no similarly directional rules for affricates, that would imply that affricates also have to be treated as clusters. (A very weak example: English doesn’t allow /tʃs/, but dialects with yod-coalescence allow /stʃ/. And if affricates are clusters, yod-coalescence would have to consist of two separate rules, wouldn’t it? - one to derive tʃ dʒ from tj dj, and another to derive ʃ ʒ from sj zj.)

#linguistics

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''bottom is a rock'' by mother mother

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