#and if you find yourself genuinely bothered by that you probably should take a break from the internet for a while

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[winterrrnight]

babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

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I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

[the-travelling-witch]

a/n: i was watching the olympic skateboarding final, zoned out and zoned back in to find this in my drafts; modern au (but not part of my existing modern au universe)

genshin masterlist || modern au series

Skater! Childe who you meet at a skatepark your friend dragged you to. You’d been perfectly content watching your friend jump around the bowl as you sat to the side, earbuds in as you busied yourself. That was until someone tapped your shoulder and moved in front of you to block out the sun as you stared up his tall stature. It was a skater you’d seen do some recklessly tricky jumps earlier.

Strands of ginger hair stood off to the sides of his head, no doubt ruffled by the helmet dangling from his arm. The loose black shirt draping over him obscured most of his body, though you had seen how it outlined his toned body while he zoomed through the rink earlier. His skateboard rested casually against his leg, his fingers energetically drumming against it as he shot you a lopsided grin. 

“Sorry, don’t mean to bother you,” he started when you pulled an earbud out. “But I figured I had to come talk to you or I’d kick myself for it later.”

“Oh uhm thank you… I guess?” You stammered, not quite sure how to react. This guy could play the male lead in a rom-com, was he pulling some kind of prank on you?

“So, you don’t seem to have a board with you,” he continued, undeterred by your hesitance, as he plopped himself down cross-legged in front of you, the piercings in his ear gleaming in the sunlight with the movement. “Not into skating yourself, are you?”

“No, I’m just here because of my friend,” you admitted. Not wanting to let the conversation with the handsome stranger dwindle quite yet, you wrecked your brain for something to say. “You obviously are, so uh do you come here often?”

“Yeah, I try to come here as often as I can. Helps me clear my head, you know? Oh, where are my manners? I’m Ajax, by the way.” He grinned, taking your attempt at conversation and running with it. When you told him your name, his smile widened, showing more of his teeth and crinkling around his eyes. “That’s pretty, suits you. Anyway, you should definitely try skating yourself sometime, it’s real fun.”

“I’m afraid if you told me to break a leg, I quite literally would,” you chuckled weakly.

“C’mon, nobody’s asking you to do a kickflip right out the gate. It’s really not that bad, just start with the basics.” Ajax cocked his head to the side, strands of ginger artfully falling to frame his face, before he beamed excitedly and extended his hand to you. “Actually, why don’t you give it a shot right now?”

“Huh what, like right now right now?” 

“Yeah, here you can use my board.” You don’t quite remember when you had put your hand in his but his fingers were pleasantly warm as he pulled you to your feet effortlessly. “Just try standing on it. Hold on to me if you want to, I won’t let anything happen to you, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know?” With a shaky exhale you slowly set both feet on the grey and red board underneath you, still holding onto Ajax’s hand, the rings adorning it already warm under your touch. The first time the board suddenly moved underneath you, your free hand immediately latched onto his shoulder.

“Woah easy there, it’s all good, you’re doing great,” the ginger encouraged you easily. The way he stroked his thumb over the back of your hand was probably meant to soothe your nerves but it only served to make your heart pound faster.

“You don’t need to lie to me, I know this is like less than the basics,” you gritted out through clenched teeth and a layer of embarrassment. Naturally that was child’s play compared to what he probably got up to.

“I’m telling the truth, I swear. You’re going out of your comfort zone to learn something new, even if you’re scared.” There was so much genuine seriousness in his voice, it made you pause to actually consider his words. “That takes guts, not everyone takes that leap. So yeah, you’re doing great for me.”

Perhaps meeting his ocean blue eyes was a mistake because, in that moment, you found yourself falling deeper than you initially thought you could and you quickly had to avert your gaze again. For a while, you practised balancing on the board, even managing to get the hang of kicking off the ground without landing on your ass and you found yourself agreeing with him; this was fun. Though perhaps that was also thanks to the company you kept.

All too soon for your liking, you heard your name being called as your friend waved at you, skateboard in hand. Turning towards Ajax you stepped back onto solid ground, looking for what you could say.

“I guess that’s my cue,” you said somewhat breathlessly, handing the board back to him. “Thank you so much for teaching me, I really enjoyed it. Uhm… is there a chance I’ll see you again?”

“I’d hope so.” To your relief, Ajax seemed to share your sentiment, even sending a cheeky wink your way. No use blaming the heat of your cheeks onto the sinking sun now, you supposed. “Well you already know where to find me but I’ll do you one better. Do you have your phone?”

Handing it to him, you watched him tap away before giving it back, the screen still showing his newly created contact, the name of which had a little heart attached. “Call me, okay? And not just because of skateboarding lessons. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Sure, will do.” At this point, you were starting to wonder if the smile was permanently stuck to your face by now with how much your cheeks hurt. “Take care then.”

“Will do,” he playfully replied, flashing you that charming grin that introduced you to him in the first place. “You make sure to get home safely. And don’t miss me too much, you hear?”

With a shake of your head you waved him goodbye as you caught up with your friend, who eyed you knowingly, no doubt waiting to pry the details out of you. This is where your paths strayed from each other again. For now, at least.

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[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Aizawa x class 1-A reader when he finds out reader is also doing vigilante work? I’ve always wondered how he would feels about that

Icl I feel like he would understand tbh like he was probably doing the exact same thing before his career took off. He has a very strong moral standpoint so I figure he would place justice above legality but hes still a teacher and would have to disapprove but he wouldn't be like angry??

I feel like this was portrayed in the anime but it's been a hot minute since I've watched it - what do you think? :D

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3

Check out my kinktober!

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞

Dark circles decorate your eyes as you sit slouched at the desk before class starts. Sleep had eluded you as you spent the night with your parents, helping them feed into their warped, self-indulgent sense of justice by doing vigilante work.

Usually, you'd consider yourself to be at a strong, good moral standpoint, focused on doing good by the people rather than focusing on legality and logistics. But to be quite honest, this self-righteous act of "freeing the people" is starting to become exhausting. It's actually getting on your nerves, really.

You love your parents, but they can be very, exhaustingly eccentric at times, and sometimes outright smug. It's absolutely infuriating. It's so difficult to watch that it hurts, and the more you think about it, the more bitter you begin to feel.

Or maybe this is just the exhaustion talking. Who knows?

It feels like you're just sacrificing little pieces of yourself at this point, giving your body and soul to some 'vigilante work' and your training to persue your career as a hero.

Aizawa is the first to notice the change in your attitude. He is the first to realise that you may be burning out, and he's the first to genuinely worry about you.

As your teacher, and considering the amount of security hazards your class has been subject to in the last year, Aizawa is well within his right to keep tabs on all of you and your home lives. He knows your secret.

After class ends, you're pulled aside by your teacher.

Part of you wants to cry. What is it this time? A failed test? Maybe a lecture on missed homework.

Apparently not. And judging by the look on his face, it's much more serious than a missed assignment. He looks... genuinely concerned, which is an expression you've gotten to see far too many times than you should have to. Wow, you think. The poor guy deserves a break.

"I know what you've been doing every other night, so don't bother trying to lie. I want to say that I'm proud you're taking your hero work so seriously, but don't you think you're overdoing it? Maybe even just a little? You're exhausting yourself, and pretty soon you're going to burn out. Did you even sleep last night?"

Oh, like he can talk about sleep and burnout of all things.

And really, he can. But the brewing bitterness and hostility inside of you is starting to bubble, and you can feel in the back of your throat that a breakdown is imminent. God, don't cry. Please, not now, of all times.

Shiny, salty tears start to collect at your waterline, and the tired teacher lets out a defeated sigh, placing his hand on your shoulder. It's an oddly comforting gesture, really.

"I-... I just want to help... My parents will go out with or without me- and they're not very experienced- so I just worry that if I'm not there, something will happen..."

"Look... The first part of helping is knowing how to best help yourself. Look after yourself, or you might not live long enough to see yourself become the hero you've always wanted to be... Youre a hero, not a martyr - the self sacrifice isn't necessary yet."

Wise words from a man who's seen it all.

He looks disappointed in you, at the very least, but there's a spark of pride in his eye for his tryhard students who do the best they can, and even if you don't see it yet, you will soon enough.

[flying-nightwing]

I gotta know.

In your professional opinion, do you think slade knows the hand on the lower stomach trick and the pillow trick?

Do you think anyone else your write for knows them? 👀

hehehheheHEHEHE 👀😏

I believe Slade knows, and knows it *very* well. HOWEVAH. Him using either entirely depends on whether or not he cares about the pleasure of the person he's having sex with. He's definitely not using the techniques on someone he's having a one time thing with, that he never wants to see again. Can't afford to have someone trail after him begging for more and/or have them recognize him out of all things because of it if he's on a mission or smth, y'know? bc yeah that will happen he's that good (man's got an ego to the moon). But if it's someone he wants around? Someone he wants to see again? He's never gonna tell them that, that's for sure but that orgasm WILL bring them back to him without fail. every. goddamn. time.

As for the other characters, Bruce knows them. And he's good at it. Selina taught him and it changed his mf life. He definitely uses them more leisurely than Slade, Brucie's a giver in bed and he just LOVES to see his partner's soul ascend from what he's doing to them. He's got a reputation to uphold and he'll literally die before he lets down a partner of his.

Dick knows too. I refuse to believe he wouldn't. But I feel like he would act like it's something incredibly normal. Like, he wouldn't even notice he's doing it, and he'd genuinely be surprised when his partner reveals it was the first time a man did that to them (eventually he'll realize that not everyone actually knows that or are bothered to do it, but he still wouldn't treat it as a special event kind of thing). He's just out there, casually raising the bar for everyone else. Dick game strong in every sense of the term babes.

Jason's case is a bit more complicated. If we take him right after his resurrection, them no he doesn't. Jason died a virgin, I will die on that hill, and whatever happened with Talia didn't actually happen I don't know what you mean. Bro's caught up in revenge and taking over a crime empire, he does NOT have the time for a game of dating and seduction. He's under so much stress, oh my god. And when he begins to chill, his partner is Roy, and Jaybird's not the one on top babes (again, HILL I WILL DIE ON). But Roy does teach him the trick so older Jay knows too. When he uses the tricks, it's already bc he trusts his partner enough to see him naked and vulnerable so it's pretty much always in a sweet way.

Since we're on the topic of Roy, well, he obviously knows. Roy "I seduced a dangerous international assassin to the point where she had my kid" Harper absolutely knows and he's SMUG about it. As the Youth™ says, bro's got rizz. He knows your exes weren't as good as him. By the time he's done with you, you won't even remember you had exes.

Tim read about it one time when he fell down a rabbit hole of research after opening the internet to (initially) look up romantic gestures idea. He tries to use it but it turns awkward the first few time, bc he treats it like any other skill and it just breaks the mood. Until he can find someone he trusts enough to practice with, he'll just refrain from doing it.

Steph knows. And she will openly criticize the men in her life that doesn't. Being ego checked by Steph is probably the most mortifying thing ever. "Oh? You don't know about those? Yikes... That's embarrassing. Yeah. Yeah no you should take down that tweet about being a sex god, yeah, you're just embarrassing yourself more now. Please stop" She's braver than any US marines.

(that's pretty much the main ones but if i forgot any lmk)

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑾

pairing: chef!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, romance, modern au, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.4k

summary: thanks to a reservation mishap, and an unexpected breakup via text, you find yourself sharing valentines dinner with a charming stranger.

warnings: oral (receiving), hint of dirty talk, piv

a/n: I was @lowlights secret valentine for the exchange we did in the dave server 💘 happy valentines, laura! I hope you have an amazing one, and I hope you enjoy this fic. It was super fun to write (and honestly a much-needed break from writing joel 24/7 lmaodfvdf) so thank you for that! 💘💘💘

The restaurant is flooded with people. The poor staff runs left and right, most of them carrying trays of food and the remaining others taking orders. It smells fantastic inside. You identify a hint of citrus in the air. The chatter is loud, but you can’t focus on any of it. Your bottom lip trembles, eyes glued to the phone screen in front of you. 

Sorry, I think we should see other people. This isn’t working out and I’m pretty sure you already knew this. 

Obviously, you didn’t have a clue he was feeling like this. If you had, you wouldn’t bother with making reservations two months prior. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, how on earth can you even reply to this? Who the hell would dump someone over text on Valentine’s Day. Not that you attach a lot of sentiment to the day, but still, it’s quite a dickish move no matter if you care for the day or not. He could’ve waited another day—He could’ve at least had dinner with you, knowing that you’ve put a lot of effort into planning it all. 

Frowning, you place the phone face-first over the ridiculously soft tablecloth. He was right. You should have seen it. You weren’t happy, you were just comfortable. 

“Excuse me ma’am?” 

Blinking, you look up to the waiter. He genuinely seems upset to have pulled you away from your train of thought, but honestly, you were grateful. When you smile, he mimics your expression, seemingly more relieved. 

“Will your date be arriving soon?” 

Ah, now that’s a question. 

“Uh…well,” you lower your gaze back to you phone, an awkward smile touching your lips. “He just broke up with me so…no?” 

“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that Ma’am,” you’re not a fan of how robotic he sounds, like he’s used to it, but you swallow and wait for him to continue. “Do you want to proceed with the menu?” 

“Yeah, I mean I might as well. I made the reservations.” 

“Delightful—” he stills for a brief moment, clearly contemplating his next words. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“We’ve seemed to make a mistake when taking your reservation ma’am.” 

“Meaning?” 

“We accidentally reserved this table for another patron as well.” 

Isn’t that just delightful. Truly, this is just your luck, first get dumped and now you’re probably going to be asked to leave. De-fucking-lightful. 

“I guess you’re going to ask me to leave then,” you mutter, already reaching for your jacket. The waiter halts you by raising both hands, such a strained and calculated movement. 

“Ma’am, you have misunderstood. The other reservation has been made for one person only, I simply wanted to ask if it would be okay if he could be seated with you. I apologize for the inconvenience, we will be sure to bring complementaries for the both of you.” 

“Oh,” you slowly lower your hand, still a bit in shock. Swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, you nod. “Of course. And it’s alright, better than being by alone.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I will be bringing him in shortly.” 

The waiter, true to his word, comes back only minutes later. 

The first thing you notice about the man meant to be your dinner partner for the evening is how broad he is. 

He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, dark brown eyes lingering over the empty chair sitting across from you. You swallow down your embarrassment. He’s wearing a white cotton pleat-front shirt, a dark forest-green velvet suit, a black bowtie, and a white pocket handkerchief for a pop of color. You notice a rather expensive-looking watch on his wrist. 

The waiter introduces the stranger, “This is Mr. Tovar. Once again I truly apologize on behalf of the establishment. We hope you enjoy your evening.” he says and disappears into the chaos. 

Mr. Tovar smiles, leaning forward, he offers you his hand. “You can call me Pero,” he says, a soft accent you can’t quite place in his voice. Your cheeks start to burn. “And you are?” 

Stumbling over your words, you manage to introduce yourself. He nods and takes his seat across from you, the waiters bring out the appetizers. It was a pre-planned Valentine’s menu. Looking down you notice the colorful and elegant platter, featuring thin, rosy-pink slices of beef arranged on a bed of dark green arugula and scattered with golden shavings of parmesan cheese. 

“Wow this looks amazing,” you mutter, and he agrees, picking up his fork. Not waiting for this to be a silent supper, you clear your throat before speaking. “So…Mr. Tovar—” 

“Pero is fine.” 

“Pero,” you repeat, enjoying the way the name feels on your tongue. “What brings you here alone? You got dumped too?” 

“I just enjoy food,” he stuffs a slice of beef between his lips, he’s surprisingly un-elegant despite the way he looks. However, the way he eats makes you forget where you are. It’s a big bite, that’s for sure. “Today was the only empty reservation they had. So it was either today or…five months later. I did not want to take the chance.” he swallows. “But it seems they didn’t actually have the reservation.”

“Yeah, I guess things get pretty intense on Valentine's.”  

He shrugs, another slice disappearing between his lips, “It is okay. It all worked out in the end.” 

“You don’t mind sharing a table with a stranger?” you smile, your tone light. “I bet you imagined this night differently.” 

“Very,” he grins then shakes his head. “But that does not mean this is necessarily bad. I can imagine worse people to eat with, compared to that this is nice actually.” when you stare at him, slightly mesmerized, he adds. “Can I ask what brought you here?” 

“Dumbassery,” a bitter chuckle drops from your lips, he looks up at you between dark lashes. “Sorry, basically I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend but well…he sent me a text that he wants to see other people about—” you check your watch. “A half hour ago.” 

“Ah, I am sorry to hear that,” he cleans the remainder of his plate and so do you. “However, you do not seem that bothered by it.” 

“I guess I wasn’t that into it, to begin with,” you mutter, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He must’ve sensed it because before you can say anything, Pero starts to apologize. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. For what it’s worth I’m happy that I ended up at your table,” 

“I guess this is what they call a silver lining,” the waiter scoops up your plates, and another one fills your glasses with Merlot to pair with the red meat entrées. “Anyway enough about me, what do you do? Who is Pero Tovar?” 

“Depends on who you ask, hermosa,” he quips. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles in your chest, his smile widens upon hearing the sound. “I am a chef.” 

“A chef? I guess that explains why you like food so much.” 

He nods, “It had been a childhood dream of mine. We didn’t have much…food, and mi mamá could make wonders out of very little. That inspired me heavily. And well, here I am now.” 

You’re speechless and he takes notice of it but says nothing. Swallowing, you muster a response. 

“That’s amazing, I’m sure she’s proud of you.” 

“She is,” he grins. “What about you? What do you do?” 

You’re about to answer when the waiter suddenly comes to place the entrees in front of you both; a perfectly cooked steak, set on a bed of crisp, green roasted herb butter, with a spoonful of dark red wine reduction drizzled over it. A basket of fresh bread and butter is also placed on the table. The butter is on top of small plates, made into a shape of a pyramid but honestly… they look like butter nipples and you fight the urge to giggle. 

“What is it?” he chuckles, brows pinched together. “Did I spill some wine on my shirt?” 

He makes a show of looking down and you laugh. You shake your head. “You’re good don’t worry. I was just…well the butter,” 

“Ah yes, the butter nipples—” 

You’re mid swallowing your wine when he says it, you nearly choke, your lungs burning from attempting to swallow and cough. He shoots you a worried look, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink. 

“Sorry…was that not…what you were thinking?”

“No no, it was,” you suck in a breath and shakily palace the wine glass back. “That was exactly what I was thinking actually, that’s why I was surprised.” 

“I mean, it is quite obvious what it looks like, no?” he cuts into his steak. “I honestly would’ve taken the rest of your words with a grain of salt if you said it did not look like it.” 

“Oh, so it was a test?” you tease, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Not really, but if it was, you passed with flying colors.” 

“I’ve always been a grade-A student.” 

After the incident of you nearly choking to death over butter nipples, the two of you eased into the conversation. Pero is ridiculously easy to talk to. Despite what you had initially thought of him, he isn’t intimidating at all. He orders the two of you a second bottle, talking about his experiences as a chef. He prides himself in still enjoying the art of cooking, whereas, apparently, most chefs have lost that spark—which in return mirrored within the dishes they prepared. 

There is a lot of under-the-table touching, your knee constantly brushes against his. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not, you want to believe he’s the one initiating the secret touches. 

“Did you meet Gordon Ramsay?” you dumbly ask, the wine hitting your tongue. “I used to watch his shows religiously.” 

“I have…” he swirls the wine in his mouth, both of your plates are licked clean. “We got along…for the most part.” 

“There’s a story there, tell me.” you coo, pressing both your elbows against the table. Suddenly he feels physically closer, but you know he isn’t, at least you think he isn’t. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“There’s going to be another time?” 

Your question hangs in the air. You feel nervous, you had hoped to sound flirty, but honestly, you have no idea what you’re doing. Your eyes follow as his hand comes near, it hovers above yours for a brief moment. He lets out a sigh, and allows his hand to fall, it looks much bigger than yours, you hold your breath. 

“I would like for there to be another time,” he mutters, averting his gaze but still keeping his hand in place. “If you want to.” 

“I would very much so, yes.” 

Your cheeks ache from smiling. Looking down, you notice that the waiter had already placed an elegant-looking dessert in front of you both. A visually stunning dessert, with a bright red cheesecake layer atop a crumbly cookie crust, topped with a colorful mixture of fresh berries in a glossy compote. Pero takes a forkful into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

A violent heat instantly flares between your legs. Mouth and lips feeling dry, you stick your tongue out to wet them. His eyes follow your tongue, his cheek moving animatedly as he chews. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” you look down and pick up your fork, you push a berry off of the cake. “You look good when you eat.” 

“Really?” 

You look up again, noticing that he genuinely looks surprised. You slowly nod, holding his gaze. He brings the fork to his lips, making a show of opening his mouth and closing his lips around the desert. He chews steadily and nods. 

He says nothing else, the conversation topic shifts. All you can think about how warm it is. 

Despite your protests, Pero pays the bill, saying that you’ll be paying next time. 

It all happens in a blur. The door closes shut, the sound of it nothing but an echo to your ears. He presses you up against the wall, lips on your neck, licking the salt from your skin with the flat of his tongue. With a whimper, you press your hips into him, feeling the hardness underneath. 

You had simply invited him upstairs for a cup of coffee. Who knew elevators could be such an aphrodisiac? 

“Is this okay?” he asks between soft bites, the tremble of his voice seeping into your skin. “Is this what you want?” 

“Yes to both of those—” 

He lifts his head away from your neck, strong arms caging you in. His breath ghosts over your skin and you breathe in, being under his gaze feels like melting under the sun. 

“Kiss me.” 

And he does. Over and over again. He can’t get enough of you and he conveys that with his lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the bitterness of wine and the sweetness of berries. He sucks the air from your lungs, teeth clattering and his nose pressing into your skin. Heat skims over your very being, settling between your legs. His palms knead the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer, guiding the sloppy roll of your hips. 

When he parts, you can see his lips glistening under the dim light, they’re completely kiss swollen and you fight the urge to suck his bottom lip between your teeth. 

He swallows and your eyes follow the bob of his adam’s apple, “Where is your bedroom, bebita?” 

“This way.” 

You feel the tremble in his chest, he squeezes your hips one more time before he allows you to guide him further into the apartment. Pero doesn’t even glance at the bedroom, he kisses you until you’re falling back first into the soft sheets. His hands cradle your thighs, thumb drawing smooth circles over your pantyhose. Your breath hitches, your mind disarray as his face comes into view. 

“May I?” he asks, sounding as if his mouth is flooded with saliva. 

You chuckle, brushing a lock of soft hair that covers his right eye, “You may.” 

A loud rip follows your answer. The cold air rushes a shudder up your spine, your hips raising without a second thought to seek his heat. The thin fabric falls to the floor in tatters. You yelp when he tugs you further to the edge of the bed, he kneels between your legs, gently raising your hips to reach where his mouth is. 

“You’re still hungry?” you tease. 

“I’m fucking starving.” 

He presses his nose against the seam of your panties, inhaling your scent before mouthing along the soft folds, he teases you with the tip of his tongue, applying pressure when he finds your clit. You gasp, fingers curling into the sheets. You’re sizzling, the heat of his lips adding to the fire. He slowly peels the fabric away, sticky with slick, and he drops it to the floor below your feet. 

Thumb pressing into your clit, he gently pulls to get a better look. You shine for him, wordlessly begging him to continue. 

“Tan hermosa,” he rasps, his breath chilling as it ghosts over your sex. “Have you been thinking about this during dinner?” 

When you don’t answer, he smiles, drawing quick circles around your aching clit. “Filthy girl,” he groans closing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

You whimper his name, pushing your trembling fingers into his hair, your drag your nails down the back of his neck. He gradually moves down, tongue nestled between the lips of your cunt while the curve of his nose bumps into your clit, he kisses you tenderly—intimately. It never felt this good before, not that anyone before took the time to learn what made you feel good. Pero moves according to the sound of your voice, the trembling of your thighs, and the drag of your nails. Every little thing he picks up and uses to his advantage. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. You come with a sharp cry, tugging him by the air and pulling his sinful mouth closer. You’re shaking like a leaf, thighs pressed against both sides of his face. Slurps and groans echo from the back of his throat, tongue moving greedily, making sure not a single drop escapes him. 

“So good,” he moans, looking up to you and licking his lips. “I think I am ready for the main course now, cariño.” 

“Oh god,” you sigh, the sheets feeling extra sensitive against your skin as he pushes you up the bed, taking his place between your wet thighs. He strips quickly, you notice. “That was amazing, Pero. God— I’m lost for words,” 

“I’m flattered but also a bit sad that it is such a surprise to you to feel so good,” he answers, a sly smile touching his wet lips. Leaning in, he drags his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling you. “Do you want to feel good on my cock, princesa. Tell me.” 

“I do,” you murmur. “Please,” 

“You sound pretty when you beg.” 

“Please,” you repeat again, raising your hips. “I need to feel you.” 

His cock lays heavy between your legs, he licks the salt off your skin as he rolls his hips, coating himself with slick. Heat pools in the pits of your stomach. You feel the touch of his lips over the swell of your breast, tongue moving around your nipple ravenously before he pushes himself inside. The stretch makes your entire body go stiff. 

“Relax,” he whispers into your skin. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out as his hands skim the frame of your body, it’s a soothing touch, one that makes you arch and take more of him. “‘Feels good,” 

Pero moves slow, burying himself inch by inch until he sinks into your heat completely. During this, he continues to touch and kiss you. Thick fingers rolling the hardened peaks as his tongue slips into your mouth, swallowing your moans and begs. 

His cock feels heavy and warm inside, you flutter around him, slightly grinding your hips as a silent beg for him to move. He does. Pero drags his cock out, only the head stretching you, and buries himself back in with one hard thrust. Your eyes go wide, your jaw goes slack. It’s like electricity shooting up your spine, every nerve singing with pleasure and very much so alive. 

“More,” you manage to choke out. “More, Pero—Please,” 

Pero dips into the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, he thrusts into you with the same enthusiasm, if not more. His strokes are hard, yet slow. He moans openly into your skin, lips caressing the column as a need, a necessity. Arousal and slick pours between your legs, the way he reacts is very similar to a man taking breath after being denied of oxygen. You squeeze around him, your second orgasm already starting to simmer deep in your gut. 

He must’ve felt it because he pounds into you with fervor, one hand skims down your body and grips your thigh, forcing you to spread yourself even wider for him. The slick sounds accompany your moans, every movement deeper than the one before. You see a flash of light under your eyelids, black dots hovering in your line of vision as your entire body convulses and shudders, pleasure scorching your skin like the desert sun. 

Your eyes flutter open in the midst of a lustful haze, you see Pero pulling way from you, the sudden emptiness makes you feel cold. He wraps his fingers around his weeping length, holding your gaze and groaning as he strokes himself until he’s coming in thick ropes, staining your stomach. You moan at the warmth splashing over your skin, your body a trembling mess. 

Pero leans over you, softening cock in hand, he crashes his lips into yours, licking the inside of your mouth eagerly before pulling away. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says, voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Bathroom?” 

“Down the hall first door to your left.” 

You can’t help but watch as he makes his way out of the bedroom, gorgeous ass in its full naked glory. Sighing, you fall back into your pillows. 

Little did you know, being dumped at the last second would turn out to be the most fortuitous twist of fate.

[highladyluck]

Re: Rand going off at the end:

Specifically the way he talks about the polycule feel weird and OOC to me. Getting stuck on which member of the polycule to ‘visit’ and then deciding he loves them all equally, like he hadn’t already come to that conclusion a while ago? Plus no acknowledgement that he’d be having children in the same thought as the polycule.

I’m probably influenced by the knowledge that RJ wrote that ending a long long time ago and Sanderson had to apply it faithfully, but I think even without assuming that bit was written earlier, it would be jarring.

Elayne made her choice about having Rand’s kids without his involvement, but she did that for safety reasons pre-TG and ‘assuming Rand would be dead’ reasons post-TG. Knowing he’s out there and not actually dead and instead joyriding around in disguise would probably be just a little bit irksome. She’s human and perfectly capable of hypocrisy. (Elayne has also done a joyride to avoid her responsibilities, but her joyride was technically to stop climate change, and it’s just a coincidence that she got to run away to the circus.)

I do think that there are good reasons for Rand to go ‘find himself’ post-TG rather than attempting to immediately fulfill his remaining obligations to people. He doesn’t have chronic pain anymore and he doesn’t hear voices anymore and he doesn’t have an impossible high-stakes task that he can’t escape anymore, but he had them before, and those thought patterns and coping mechanisms don’t just stop once they aren’t useful anymore, and also he just switched bodies. Like. He needs therapy even if you think he actually resolved all his past issues (Zen!Rand weirds me out, personally.) He genuinely does need to go work on himself.

But I think the cognitive dissonance comes from the ‘woooo permanent vacation!’ energy of the ending, when everyone else has new burdens and messes to clean up. Rand didn’t do it alone, everybody else should get a break too! And he does deserve the break, but to me it should be a break like the Israelites had after getting out of Egypt: hang out getting your basic needs met long enough to have a version of yourself that doesn’t remember the trauma of your previous generation. For them it took 40 years. I don’t know that it’ll take Rand that long, he’s one person, not a group. But it’s ok if it takes a while. I don’t want unreconstructed Rand raising kids any more than he does.

The thing that bothers me is that the deeper meaning of ‘go lose yourself in the metaphorical desert for a while’ isn’t even hinted at in the tone of the text. It feels superficial and very flippant. Maybe that giddiness/flippancy is a part of Rand’s trauma response- he hasn’t been allowed to be flippant or blow off anything for years- but it isn’t presented as that at all. I feel like I need to do intellectual backflips to make it all vibe with the rest of the series.

[merakiui]

Tw: dubcon, noncon, more incel!Idia, choking, attempt at running away, bdsm themes, etc.

Oh little kitten wants to take the lead? That's new, Idia obliges to let you take the lead to ride him, oh such an obedient little kitten you have become, you even want to pleasure him out of your own will!

You slowly sink on his dick in your stupidly slutty get up (a maid outfit that can spill your breasts, it doesn't matter big or small it will spill from how thin and small the coverage from the fabric is. Also a tiny skirt. Idia forbids you to wear underwear)

As you were pulsing on him, thinking he is almost climaxing, your hands grip on his neck, genuinely trying to choke him to his death, Idia passes out.

You took this chance with your wobbly legs and skimpy dress to run out of the dorm. Where should you go?

Octavinelle can provide protection but you would need to give something in return. Also there is no telling that they themselves wouldn't assault you too.

Heartslabyul would cause you to be collared and disciplined by Riddle though they can provide protection. But then again it's not worth the trouble.

Savannah Claw is the den of bullies, it would require a lot of strength to even reach out to Leona/Ruggie and they aren't even guaranteed to help you, Jack is most likely already asleep in this hour.

Pomefiore seems promising but that creepy stalker Rook is not up to any good.

Diasomnia sounds like the best choice, there is no way that Malleus would have any malicious intent against his favourite child of man right?

As darling finished pondering in which dorm to go to, you jumped into the mirror in which they end up in the hall of mirrors, they spotted teachers who would at least keep them safe until you reach a good dorm.

Flashes of horror can be seen in your eyes, not a single teacher cared nor did they want to help you, especially not in that get up,

"Isn't that the dumb mutt who ditched my class for the last 30 days? Why should I help you, from what I see, you were just busy goofing around being a slut." Crewel sneered.

A similar answer was what you got from the other teachers, as you were about to dip into the Diasomnia mirror, a long pale arm was holding your neck into a headlock.

"You think you can get away with choking me then attempting to flee?"

"How did you find me?"

"Are you stupid? I have a tracker planted somewhere on your body, you will never be able to find where, but wherever you go I will always take you back, there's no point in running. No one will ever help you."

"Let me go you disgusting creep, don't touch me!"

"You didn't change one bit, stupid slut. Just flaunting yourself to everyone in public, did you really want to be a communal cumdump? And I was being so generous to save you from these wolves."

Your body feels shivers, cold sweat all over. Why does Idia seem so scary now?

He brings you back to his dorm, this time he put a collar on you that you can't take off without his assistance, the collar electrocutes you (only enough to make you feel it but not actually hurt you fatally) when you run out of the "safe" zone. It also sets alarms all over the dorm.

He decided on actual mind break to punish this kitten. He starts by spanking you with his own hands, then an electric paddle. A vibrator taped on your nipples, clit, and a fuck machine of his exact size, no matter what he uses you still clamp uncomfortably.

It gets worse from there. You can't even talk properly, all you can do is slur his name by the time he was done, he truly has made you into his cumdump.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I kinda wanted to write Azul too but I haven't had a clear image on what I should write huhuhu

IZUNA, I AM CLAWING AT THE WALLS OMG!!! this is so good... orz everyone really is against reader here. No one will bother helping, so now you're stuck with Idia forever. </3 Knowing Crowley, he wouldn't do anything because Idia's parents are rich and have probably helped the school like how the Asim family has made donations and such. And Crowley can't say no to lots of money generous donations!

Maybe the collar he puts on you has a little bell on it so you're more like a kitten. <3 by default, you have to wear cat ears and a tail plug. It would totally ruin the immersion if you didn't! He buys you lots of revealing outfits and cosplays to go with the cat look, and when you're finally, truly broken down and obedient then he can possibly trust you. Still, it's annoying you'd try to kill him and then run. Where else can you go? No one in any of the dorms is willing to help, the professors will mind their business because they're nowhere near as influential or wealthy as the Shroud family, and you're not very familiar with the town beyond NRC. Good luck trying to get off the island as well. You are, in all ways possible, trapped. And Idia knows this, and he uses it to his advantage.

His level difficulty really is that of a final boss. >:)

[spaceorphan18]

Have you read the latest script of K&J's podcast about the Michael episode? I'm very interested in hearing your thoughts. They were talking about Jenna acting out and being forced to take time off. And they mentioned being upset because other people were acting out and getting storylines or being given time off to do other things. The later one is def about D since he went to do the musical but I can't believe he would act out for that, it's like totally OOC.

Same anon as before as I was just finishing to read the script. They did indeed talk about Darren being written off and I'm debating if I should listen this time because the way it's written they seem very jealous of him. I'm getting upset by just reading this. So I'm still very curious about your thoughts about it if and when you have the chance to read/listen to it.

I actually figured you guys were all tired of my opinions, lol.

Yes, I did kind of skim the transcript this morning because I saw people talking about it and was curious. And, I have a lot of complicated feelings about the whole thing.

First of all, though, I say this with love to all the Blaine and Darren fans out there -- Kevin and Jenna are never going to be able to be objective when doing this podcast. I keep thinking about all the other rewatch podcasts I listen to, and how all of them - even when discussing things that were hard to go through and/or things that weren't that great with the show - have a level of decorum that Kevin and Jenna just do not have. I do not know why they began this podcast, but digging into the show on a media analysis level just is not where their talents lie.

(Also, I don't think they love Glee the way those other podcasters genuinely love their show and that just colors how they see things. I'll get more into this in a moment...)

And I get that it's frustrating. Believe me, I do. There are plenty of Kurt things they do not talk about that drive me nuts. But at the same time, I feel like the 'recaps' have boiled down to praising Naya, Amber, and themselves; commentating on whatever BTS stuff comes up, and discussing shit on TikTok. I'm not sure why they're even bothering with the 'recaps', tbh.

But guys - if this podcast is upsetting you, if you're finding yourself this anxious or mad or whatever -- it's time to stop. They're not going to change how they do things, and at this point, I'm not entirely sure what you're waiting for from them? Maybe it's time to stop hate listening <3 <3

***

As for the acting out -- I think a lot of the cast probably did. I'm sure Lea was a terror to work with at times. I'm sure Mark probably wasn't easy either. I know Naya spoke up on a lot of things -- though the producers didn't take as much issue with her until the Season 5 drama. Chris was pretty vocal about choices with his character. I can imagine Amber being just as frustrated with Mercedes' lack of anything to do. Didn't Heather say she kept it all inward? And what about Diana who really seems to not ever want to talk about Glee again?

So - who knows what acting out means, tbh.

Keeping all of this in context -- this cast was very tired by the time Season 3 came around. There were too many characters to service, they keep adding ones in, and they were all very young. (And for those of you who are experiencing your early 20s right now? I hate to say this to you -- but you are all still very young.) Added on the fact that the producers clearly did not understand their mental health needs (as evident about how apologetic Ryan Murphy seems to be about all of it) you get a lot of young people expressing their frustration in a lot of different ways over a lot of different things.

I think that Jenna has some very, very complicated feelings about the show -- and in particular about this era because this is where she had a rather big break down. You know what, I do feel for her, because I can see where she's coming from. I can't imagine - feeling like you're tied to a job where everyone around you seems to be getting a better deal than you, and you're trying to be the nice one, and eventually, holding all of that inwardly will make you crack. I'm glad she went to therapy. I kinda hope she's still going to therapy because it seems as though a lot of this is still bothering her.

And I don't really think that Darren, specifically, is ultimately what led to Jenna's breakdown. I think it was a lot of things compounding on each other and Darren on Broadway might have been the last straw that caused her to crack.

I will say (again with all the love to Darren, I adore the guy) there was underground talk that when Darren first got there - he didn't exactly handle his newfound fame in the most eloquent of ways -- in that he was a little on the pompous side. But again, that was age, and by the time Season 4 came around, by all accounts that I came across, he was friends with everyone.

That said - none of this is Darren's fault. It's not Darren's fault that Ryan Murphy handled his young cast and their mental health very badly. It's not Darren's fault that he jumped on opportunities when they arose. It's not Darren's fault that through his natural talents Blaine became a way more popular character than half the original cast. And it's not Darren's fault that Jenna has her own shit to deal with.

***

So, yeah...

I guess those are my thoughts.

And I'm still here enjoying Kurt, Blaine, Chris, and Darren -- and believe it or not, a lot of the show in general. And I don't really listen to Kevin and Jenna's podcast anymore because they just don't care about the things I do -- and that's fine.

[sinzkiller]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi X Reader

"Change"

Warning: Fluff💕+ damn nasty Smut💀✨

"I wanna trust me, the way that you trust me"

"Ooh, cause nobody ever loved me like you do"

"I'd love to see me from your point of view"

—POV by Ariana Grande

The first time you met Mayuri when Urahara introduced him to everyone in 12th squad, you had your heart set on him. For you, Mayuri is easy to work with, you don't even know why everyone is having hard time with him. It didn't even take a month for you to be close to him, the way you accept him for who he is and match his energy brings you closer to each other.

Those beautiful eyes of his, those beautiful painted skin of his, those beautiful smile of his whenever he's getting excited with new experiment... You never know if he likes you the same way you like him, so keeping the love feeling for yourself is the best option because there's no way you want to ruin the special bond between the two of you.

He never treats you as badly as he does with others but you don't want to make preconceived assumptions about his small kindness.

Now that he's a captain of 12th Division, you can say that you work under him as a Squad 12's soul reaper. While everyone else trying their best to avoid him, you tried your best to get closer to him not just physically, but also emotionally. You are one of a few people that he's close with, but compare with Nemu and Akon, you're the closest one since hundred years ago.

"Captain?" You call for him as you slowly made your way inside the room. It's been a week since he locked himself inside his private lab, totally busy with whatever he's working on. Now it's middle of the night and all the researchers already headed to their own barracks, leaving the place empty except for you and Mayuri. "What is it? Didn't I tell everyone in this squad to not bother me?" The captain respond in such a low voice, hinting that he's drained out. His eyes never once look at you, only focusing on the monitor screen. "Nothing, just checking on my favorite person"

No respond from Mayuri, only the clicking sound of the keyboard being heard. Slowly you approach the captain and standing next to him, giving him a worried look. Your right hand touches his, stopping him from typing on his keyboard.

He groaned, too tired to push you away so he let you to do so. "I know you're tired, captain, how about taking a break?" You whispered.

"I'm not tired and please go away you're distracting me" he replied and and tried to push you away but failed, too tired to move his muscles. You smile softly and pull him from his seat. You're gonna risk it all, he is the man that you love and you should take care of him. Even if he probably will kill you after this, you just don't care anymore.

You know how much he hate it when people see him in such a fragile state so you hurriedly lead him to his own captain's quarters. It's not your first time going there anyway. When Urahara still a captain, he always asked you to help him tidy the the quarters for him so the place is familiar to you. But now the captain's quarters is not belong to Urahara, but Mayuri...

Once you guys enter the room, Mayuri pull his hand from you so that he can undress and heading to the bathroom.

"wait for me here, we will settle this once I'm done removing this paint..." he stated and close the door behind. For some reason there's no threat behind his words this time, he just genuinely wants you to stay there with him.

Around 15 minutes later, you find yourself fall asleep on his bed and immediately get up before he sees you in this state. Just in time he came out of his bathroom, wearing nothing but only towel that wrapped around his waist. You were loss for words, it's the first time you've seen him without his white paint and he's absolutely gorgeous.

"First time seeing me like this, isn't?" He knew what he's doing and it's driving you crazy.

Your hands moving on its own, touching his cold skin and caressing the scars on his arm. "Captain...." You couldn't believe that you finally see the real him.. "Y/n, this time just call me by my name".

Mayuri.. it's been a long time since you call him by that name.. ever since he became a captain, it's absolutely forbidden to address him so casually..

Mayuri pushed you down to the bed, his head now on your chest as he nestled against it. You were flustered, you never imagined yourself to be with Mayuri like this. Slowly you runs your fingers on his blue hair which made Mayuri felt more sleepy and in relaxed state. "I know you desired me, I know you love me since the day that man introduced me to you" He said in a low voice but enough for you to hear. "Holy shit am I that obvious?" This is so embarrassing that you feels like you want to slap the shit out of yourself. So he knew about this.

The tired captain didn't respond, only stare at you in such uncomfortable amount of time before asking you one more question. "Can I trust you?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes"

Now that both of you changed the position, you find yourself straddling him while slowly trailing your fingers on his scars and placed a kiss on it, admiring his body that you've never seen before. "I am surprised you're not afraid of me" he said which made you giggles and stares at his honey gold eyes. "Say something, idiot" he scoffed and smacked your ass. You yelped and accidentally pressed your chest against his, which cause something awaken underneath you.. "Hmmm? Seems like you got me excited" He smirked and smacked your ass again, this time harder than before. "A..ah! Mayuri" you accidentally moaned his name. "Why should I be afraid of you?" you pouted and playfully punched his chest. He wonder why and how you love someone like him, he wonder how is he likes in your point of view.

The special feeling he had for you grew even more when he sure that he can trust you. As someone who is cautious with everything and anything, it's hard for him to just open up and yet he just showed his real face to you...

You cupped his cheeks with your cold hands and give him a quick kiss before look at his eyes once more. "Please don't doubt me, my feeling for you is genuine" you kiss him again but this time on his forehead, trying to gain his trust.

Your fingers trailed the scars on his shoulder as you moved your hips back and forth just to provoke him more. Losing his patience, he pushed you down to the bed and ripped your clothes off your body until your skin was completely exposed to him as he removed the towel from his waist, revealing his huge dick to you.

"Is this huge dick of mine scaring you, girl?" The audacity he had saying something like that made you even more excited. You said nothing and look away, completely embarrassed by the situation you caught yourself in.

He took your left hand and placed it on his chest, wanting more for your touch before he furiously thrust his dick inside your tighten cunt without any warning. "Mayuri..!" You screamed his name and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Be proud..ah.. having my dick deep inside your pussy.. is a privilege you know.. mmm" he said as his half lidded golden eyes looking at you with lust. Showing no mercy, he thrusts himself into your pussy harder until the tip of his cock hitting every flesh from the inside.

"Ma..yuri.. mhmmm I thought you were.. tired?" You said in confusion, surprised that he has such a stamina to fuck you like the beast he is.

"So what, want me to slow down?" He said teasingly, hips still moving but in such unsatisfying slow pace.

His eyes fixated on your bouncing breasts, smacking them multiple time before licking the sensitive buds with the tip of his tongue slowly. You arched your back in response.

"Mayuri..can you just please..faster?" You begged him. He could feel your pussy squeezing his dick harder than before and he absolutely prided himself for this. "Fine, since you begged for it" with that his thrust getting faster than before until your knees getting weak and your legs are shaking. "who do you belong to? Huh?" He asked in a husky voice as his right hand pressed against your neck. "Answer me"

"you, I'm belong to you alone" your answer satisfied him. A few more thrust and he felt something...

"Ah fuck.."

He whimpered and shoot his warm cum deep inside your pussy, not dare to move yet since he don't want to spill it. Your pussy now filled with his sticky semen and it feels so good...

He inserted two of his fingers inside your pussy, pumping it in and out. "Mayuri bae.. i think that's enough ah.." you can't handle the overstimulation and felt like you almost reach your second orgasm.

"Did you just call me your bae?" He said excitedly as he pulled his fingers that covered with his own semen mixed with your wetness and shove it to your mouth. "Say it again, I want to hear it" The blue hair captain sure enjoying this judging by huge smile that appeared on his handsome face. Seeing you struggle to get the words out is so cute for him.

"My Ma..yuri bae" struggling with your own words since his fingers toying with your tongue now. "Hmm?" He brought his face closer to yours this time, fingers still inside your mouth. "Mayuri..bae.. i love.. you" finally, the words he wanted to hear. "You're mine" he whispered and pull his fingers from your mouth.

Mayuri smiles at you before his body collapse to the bed. "Mayuri, are you ok?" You went into panic mode and try to wake him up. "My dick is exhausted and you expecting me to have any stamina left? Since you brought me here I should get my sleep" he murmured and pulled you to lie down with him. He snuggle against your chest, squeezing and playing with your breasts.

"Hey..Mayuri.."

"What? Can't your own man touching your breasts?"

Ok that caught you off guard, but that's not what you want to ask him. "What if you impregnate me?" The question you asked him brought him back to reality. Well he did cum inside you but he didn't remember impregnate you was part of the plan. After a few minutes of thinking, he has made up his mind.

And it will change everything..

"We will keep the baby..my love, I'll make you my wife and Nemu will have little sibling" he said and kissed your lips once more before both of you fall asleep.

~~~~

Nemu: Good morning, mother

Y/n: Mother..?

Nemu: Master Mayuri told me to call you mother starting from today, mother.

Y/n: omg * blushing*

Akon: I want to be the cool uncle—

~~~~

<3

[meili-sheep]

Kaveh and Al-Haitham never insult each other based on their own fields because they both know that they are the best at it. Sometimes, they’ll go as far as to recommend each other for anything related to their specialities.

Al-Haitham: I know someone that could help you with that project you have. Here’s his contact information.

Kaveh: If you want that type of paperwork and record-keeping in good hands, I happen to know just the guy! I’ll get you in contact this afternoon if you want.

————

Kaveh is no longer allowed to judge anyone’s clothes in Al-Haitham’s presence.

Kaveh: What are you even wearing?

Al-Haitham: (immediately chooses violence) When you can afford to buy yourself some fashion sense, you can ask me that question.

Kaveh: I-

Al-Haitham: You think I don’t notice that 85% of your wardrobe is from flea shops?

————

Sometimes, Kaveh doesn’t even process he’s rooming with someone.

Kaveh: For the last time, you were supposed to do the dishes this week!

Al-Haitham: I was gone.

Kaveh: For a week? Seriously? So if I ask everyone around, they’ll be able to corroborate your statement?

Al-Haitham: I can just do them right now. Besides, it’s not my fault that you eat enough for three men every time you actually make it to the dining room before passing out.

Kaveh: For the last time, I had a deadline-

Al-Haitham: That was self-imposed for the reason of not wanting to take a single break and chance losing your train of thought. You didn’t even notice I was gone.

Kaveh: . . .

Al-Haitham: Nothing else to say about that?

Kaveh: You are truly insufferable.

Al-Haitham: So everyone says. I will do the dishes and the leftovers are in the coldbox.

————

Al-Haitham doesn’t even have to acknowledge Kaveh’s presence and that’s enough to piss him off.

Kaveh: Al-Haitham, I swear to the Archons are you even listening to me?!? I’m trying to talk to you-

Al-Haitham: (turned on the noise-cancelling headphones, reading a book in peace)

————

Whenever Al-Haitham has to put his book down, shit’s going down or someone is getting violated severely.

Kaveh: You know what, you’re probably not even reading anything all that substantial, are you? It’s just shitty pulp fiction, isn’t it?

Al-Haitham: (snaps his book shut, actually irritated)

Kaveh: Hah! So it is-

Al-Haitham: (dead-pans, menacingly) This is why you are always broke and scrambling for commissions. No one wants to deal with you, talk to you, or want anything to do with you. You are a goddamn hazard to society and it’s about time that people started to know about it. You tactless piece of shit.

Kaveh: . . . so it’s not pulp fiction?

Al-Haitham: (opens up the book again) If Celestia doesn’t strike you down, I might.

————

There’s no way Al-Haitham is going to evict Kaveh because it would mean that Kaveh won and Kaveh knows this.

Al-Haitham: You could always leave if you don’t like it.

Kaveh: And there you go again, threatening to cast me into the streets like you usually do-

Al-Haitham: You can literally leave when you want to. There’s nothing stopping you.

Kaveh: Don’t you ever get tired of repeating yourself? Fontaine didn’t need to bother with making a repeating record when I already have my own right here.

Al-Haitham: Technically, it’s not yours because it’s me. And I didn’t repeat myself.

Kaveh: Shush, record. Change yourself into something more catchy.

Al-Haitham: Why did I ever let you room with me?

————

Al-Haitham Is (Not) Funny.

Kaveh: I don’t know why the audience thinks it’s funny when my inventions break on stage. I’m not even trying for a comedic act!

Al-Haitham: I believe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.

Kaveh: And what would that be?

Al-Haitham: In the beginning, Celestia ordianed that broke people should never laugh, so perhaps you just can’t find it that funny until you actually have some mora.

Kaveh: I will never ask you anything again.

————

Kaveh Is (Not) A Fool

Al-Haitham: This is genuinely what happened.

Kaveh: No it’s not.

Al-Haitham: Why not?

Kaveh: Because it came from you.

————

And they were roommates!

So I just go to Kaveh's introduction in the quest. And I absolutely love them even more.

And you know what.

I love that Al Haitham is just absolutely honest, and Kaveh Just does not believe him. It's such a funny dynamic. And I really want Kaveh to have like three lines two complaining about Al Haitham and one admitting that he's actually not that bad. Then Al Haitham has one like about Kaveh that's just.

"He's annoying but alright."

Because that's their dynamic. And it's great

[kurogane-redfox]

It had been days since the Last time he heard from Ravyn; Lily would live him a letter.

Dearest,

I wish I could have said this in person. But I fear that my own lips couldn't say this outload. This is harder knowing that I will be gone for some time now and I can't disclose were I will be next. When all I can think about is how your lips belong on mine. Gods, you should be mine and mine alone. But that's selfish of me to wish. TO hope that you would wake up one day and want to be the one at my side for the rest of our lives. The way you look at me when we see each other breaks my heart knowing that you only feel for me in the way of a friend. Someone close to you that you can share a moment with. A kiss with but those kisses mean more to me. Those nights sneaking away with the intent of being close under the sheets, they are memories I hope to keep but this will be the last time you hear from me if I can help myself.

I have been in love with you for a long time. Our last little fight made this harder to do. All I ever want to do is to come back to you. To join your guild and continue to be your partner in all things. But this is becoming harder to face. You are becoming harder to face you.

I love you

I adore you.

You make everything better. I'm safe with you but my heart can't take not knowing where we are going anymore. This will hurt me every day. I will regret this moment for the rest of my life but you are safer when I'm away.. and you deserve to find your forever person.

Farewell, please take care of yourself.

With love ( & yours forever),

Ravyn Hollows.

P.S. I didn't tell Lily where I was going either. So don't bother.

Random Shit @ironshadcw

His eyes read through the letter, his expression changing from the smile he'd had on moments before to anger, and then finally sadness. He could feel the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes and before long they'd begin falling. Some of them hit the paper, causing it to grow wet. He'd grip it in a hand before angerly shoving it into a box. Before Lily could even say anything to the Dragon, the man was gone. Leaving in his wake the sound of cloth tearing, and the scent of blood.

He'd even foregone pulling his coat or boots on, because he'd been home. He'd known he'd fucked up when he confessed to her. She'd thought he'd been joking but he'd been serious. Which was SOMETHING Lily had tried to tell her. That the Dragon did, indeed feel for her. He wasn't someone who would just fool around. He picked on her because that was how he showed affection.

Lily would send her device a message saying simply 'He took the message as expected but I do not know where he went.'

Meanwhile, the Dragon would be fully transformed, an ANGRY cry of pain emanating from him. Anyone nearby would probably get a chill from the sheer anguish heard in the Dragon's sound.

Lily would send her a second message letting her know 'He is finding himself now so do not worry about him seeking you out at this moment. I am not sure he would recognize you in his state.'

He was in so much PAIN. Not only from the transformation but from the fact that he felt his heart breaking. He'd been genuinely in love with her and he'd TRIED to tell her. He'd tried but she'd not believed him and they'd fought. The only way he'd be able to return to himself at some point after getting all the anger out of his system would likely be locking his heart again.

He didn't want to face the pain of LOSS again.

--

Hours would pass, maybe even a day as he flew around aimlessly just trying to calm down. Eventually he'd grow fatigued from the transformation and crash into the ground. He'd be bleeding pretty heavily but not enough to be in danger of dying, when Lily found him and brought his limp body back to the house to clean and patch him up.

Lily would then send Ravyn one more message. 'I found him. He is back home now recovering. Stay safe. I will contact you later.'

[hinatastinygiant]

31 | Leaving Shadows Behind

Pairing: Mikey x Fem!Reader

Undercover Masterlist

A week later, you find yourself at a local park, accompanied by Yuzuha and Hakkai. The three of you leisurely stroll along the winding paths, relishing in the simple pleasure of each other's company. The sun casts a warm glow, creating a serenity you haven't felt in a long time.

"I need to take a break from Toman," you suddenly remember yourself telling Mikey while the two of you were sitting on the rooftop side by side. 

Sadness had flickered in Mikey's eyes, he was trying so hard to understand the importance of your decision and how much it meant to you. But he couldn't help but long for you to stay with him.

"I need to focus on the relationship I'm building with my siblings," you had explained softly. "I want to make up for the time we lost when I was all caught up in Taiju's crap."

Mikey's expression had softened after that, his genuine care for you evident in his gaze. He reached out to take your hand, offering you his support. "I understand," he replied, his voice filled with understanding. "Your family should always come first. Take all the time you need, and know that I'll be here for you."

What makes you feel sick to your stomach isn't the fact that you decided to temporarily leave Toman, but the fact that you haven't seen Mikey since that night on the rooftop. A pang of guilt washes over you as you reflect on the time that has passed. The intensity of your feelings for him lingers, and you begin to ache to be with him again.

Suddenly, you're snapped back to reality as Yuzuha waves her hand in front of your face, concern etched on her features. "Hey, are you alright?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine worry. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Hakkai then joins in, his eyes reflecting the same concern. "What's going on, Y/N? Is something bothering you?"

You take a deep breath, mustering a smile to reassure them. "I'm okay, really," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of unease. "Just lost in thought, I guess. Let's keep walking. Hakkai, weren't you saying something about going back to school?" you inquire, hoping to shift the focus to something positive.

Hakkai's eyes light up and a smile grows on his face as he begins to open up about his plans. He had initially put everything on hold when he joined the Black Dragons, but now he'd determined to make a difference in the community, just like Mikey. He begins to talk about wanting to study social work or something related, to help those who are struggling and create a better future for everyone.

Yuzuha curiously then chimes in, asking, "What's going to happen to the Black Dragons now?" 

Hakkai pauses for a moment, contemplating his response. "Well, I think that-" he begins, but before he can answer, you quickly interject, caution in your voice.

"Let's not discuss that here, Hakkai," you say, mindful of the potential risks of discussing such matters in public. "It's better to keep things low-key for now, you know? We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention when nothing's even certain yet."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry," Yuzuha smiles softly.

"It's alright. Anyway, back to what you were saying, Hakkai... Do you know what you're going to study? Social work?"

"Uhh, I'm not really sure yet..." he answers nervously, much to your surprise. "I haven't had too much time to think of it and I'm still kind of exploring my options," he confesses. "But I know I want to make a positive impact. I'll figure it out along the way."

With a supporting smile, you assure him that he has plenty of time to discover his true calling. For now, focusing on his decision to return to school and pursue his dreams is a step in the right direction.

"Hey, Yuzuha," Hakkai then changes the subject quickly, "What do you plan on doing now?"

His question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you exchange a knowing glance with him. You shake your head subtly, indicating that Yuzuha probably doesn't want to talk about her plans. She's been just doing odd jobs for the longest time and has expressed multiple times that she hates it. Hakkai's confusion is evident as he silently mouths the word "what?"

Yuzuha hesitates for a moment, her eyes darting between you and Hakkai, before finally speaking up. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about that. Mitsuya approached me recently and offered me a job in his clothing design company. I'll be working as the marketing person, responsible for promoting Mitsuya's designs and ensuring that the word gets out to people who might be interested. I'm actually really excited about this opportunity."

Hakkai beams with pride as he listens to Yuzuha talk. "Wow, Yuzuha, that's amazing! I'm so proud of you."

You can't help but feel a swell of happiness for your sister. The strides she has taken and the new path she's beginning fill you with pride. Hakkai's genuine support only adds to the joy of the moment.

Soon enough, Hakkai spots an ice cream truck parked nearby. His eyes light up with delight as he says, "You know what? This calls for a celebration. I see an ice cream truck over there. Let's all get something!"

"Oh, I don't know," you shake your head, so used to being extremely cautious with your money.

"Come on, Y/N. We've got the money for it now," he then tells you before taking both you and Yuzuha by the hand and pulling you over toward the truck. 

The genuine smiles lighting up their faces tug at your heartstrings, an overwhelming surge of emotion filling your eyes with tears. The happiness radiating from your siblings is like priceless treasures, ones you wouldn't trade for the world. And in this moment, surrounded by the simple joy of shared ice cream and the warmth of your siblings' presence, you realize that there's nothing more precious than the happiness of those you hold dear.

Undercover Masterlist

[alastaircraig]

Bowie

Illustration by Hannah Aiello

January 2016:

The strangest part of working in a newsroom: you will occasionally have to act on awful news – if only for a few minutes of speedy fact-checking – before you’re permitted to completely feel it. Even when it’s the loss of somebody who you admire not only for his music, but his very existence.

The first thought that penetrates your professional numbness: a memory of 2003; sitting next to your Mum and sister at a Bowie concert, singing along with the man himself to “Suffragette City”. You will forever cherish the memory of your Mum shouting “WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA’AM”; forever brandish it as Exhibit A in the Wow, My Mother Is A Genuinely Cool Person argument. You realise that to you, the saddest part of this sorry news is the fact that she’ll have to hear it.

The walk home is far, far too short to process anything. So you keep walking. The Brisbane river is lovely. The humid air is cooling. Your fingers, acting almost of their own accord, have already tapped on your magical space-age phone and purchased Bowie’s final album – the album he surely knew would be his last – and pressed play.

It’s weird. It’s alienating. It’s inaccessible. It’s every bit as different to old Bowie as a new Bowie album should be. You find delight not in the songs, but the simple fact that he was finding entirely new things to say to the very end. The knowing references to death and afterlives and vigils are achingly sad, of course. But for the next half hour, he feels very much alive.

You keep walking, and walking, and walking. As the album ends, the final cosmic fade out is almost too much to bear. In your headphones, in this state, it feels like a one-on-one communication: a conscious, affectionate goodbye from a dying man.

Then it’s over. You’re back to reality. The little noises of the outside world seep back in: the bark of dogs, the tweeting of birds, the waves of the river. It’s gentle and peaceful and – through the muffle of the earphones you can’t quite bring yourself to remove – suddenly missing something vital.

So out comes the phone once more. You reach for the old. The familiar. The beloved. The Rock and Roll Suicides. The New Killer Stars. The Ziggies Stardust. And still you trundle along, step by step, doing an approximation of ordinary walking so seamless it has everybody around you fooled. The news has travelled far and wide by now. Is anyone else having a moment like this? That jogger? That lady with the dog? Are they all just as good at pretending? What about their mothers? Who can say?

The sun has set. The humidity has replaced itself with a chilly breeze. Your sunglasses are no longer necessary, but you’re afraid to take them off. You may still need them, having no idea at this stage how your eyes plan to react, water-wise, as you approach the end to Life On Mars.

The air gets cooler. Bowie hits his high note. Your whole body breaks out into sudden goosebumps and you secretly know that’s not the wind’s doing at all. Whatever intangible thing you were looking for in this walk, you’ve probably found it.

As you finally turn and head home, 90 minutes later than planned, you realise two things. First: you’re already writing about the experience in your head. You’ll feel compelled to put it into words. You’ll probably give it more narrative coherence and broader emotional significance than it actually had. You might not edit it; not as much as you should. You will almost certainly regret sharing it. You might not even bother to take it out of the lame second person form, which you are even now worried might seem self-absorbed.

Secondly: the song in your ears no longer carries the weight of the world. It has returned to what it always was, and always will be: good, fun music. As you wait for the elevator, “Little Wonder” reaches its triumphant, transcendent, critically-underrated second half. The doors open. You see your reflection and realise you’ve been quietly dancing on the spot. And smiling.

[alyjojo]

Family Ties ⛪️ - May 2024 - Libra

Overall Energy: 9 Wands

I was seeing Queen of Wands while shuffling too, there could be a prominent Aries figure in your life, probably the mother. I’m also seeing a 3rd party situation with a lover, so the concern would be how your family judges you based on that. They might not like who you’ve chosen, or how you’ve handled things. Some of them anyway. They may not even care to some extent, but *you* feel like they do, and because of this it’s like you’re always on guard. You’re not interested in anyone’s opinions or judgments on what you’ve decided for yourself, but Saturn Libra at the bottom can show that for a long time you did, or if you have this placement then you still do and it’s the bane of your existence. This placement cares very much about fairness, what everyone thinks about them, they desire to fit in and be liked, so if you’re not or even perceive it as you’re not - it *deeply* bothers you. Some of you may have simply had a difficult relationship with Mom. It’s also possible that you’ve gone through a very difficult relationship involving a 3rd party - on either side of that equation, have cheated, have been cheated on - or they’ve moved on and you haven’t yet, you’re still feeling guarded and protecting your heart. No judgement here 🙏

Mother: 3 Wands & 6 Cups rev

Oracle: Restlessness 🙃 - Mercury Aries

61 Happy Accident

Fortunate accidents can act as guides to edit and be open to where you should go next.

Mom could be Aries or have prominent fire in her chart, she’s not the type to let things get her down for long. She’s not sad, not all that reflective, not DEEP, more of an eternal optimist that knows everything will turn out fine in the end. Call it wisdom or immaturity - depending on the situation, although I don’t see anything negative about her. More like your perception of her may be that she doesn’t take you, this, or anything you’re going through seriously. Especially if you have Scorpio/Virgo in your chart, Mom’s sunshine and “it’s fine” and “life goes on” mentalities could trigger & irritate tf out of you. You’re hurting okay, you don’t want her optimism, it doesn’t feel real to you. Or you did everything right, and it didn’t work - you’re a mess now, can you just respect the mess? She doesn’t know how - you two could be polar opposites.

But she does support you, and she does see your life and situation positively. “Shit happens”, and you’ll get through it, and be better off than you were before just wait. That’s pretty much how she views life, take the bad with the good and it’ll all work out. She does wish you’d “come back” or expects you to. Maybe you’ve had a falling out or you just haven’t spoken in a while. She knows you’ll be back, she expects it, and 10 Cups is at the bottom. I think her perspective is just a wide one, probably not much gets to her, she can see the bigger picture. Or if your person is/was a douche, she can easily toss them to the side and just focus on you. “Fuck that guy/girl, you will find better.” Is that what you want idk, she’s not the most sympathetic and can seem idk…fake? Lacking depth. She’s just not the emotional type, but she genuinely loves you & wants what’s best for you. There is no doubt in her mind that you’re growing and will do even better than before, in all ways. If you’ve been the one to leave one person for another or something like that, she’s fine with it. If it was done to her, she’s still fine with it. Nothing can break this woman, she has full confidence & joy in existence as a whole 💪 That’s a good thing.

Father: Death & Queen of Cups rev

Oracle: Order 🧮 - Moon Virgo

69 Precision 🥽 rev

The desire to do things precisely is useful as long as it does not devolve into rigidity.

For someone, your father has passed on to the other side already, and it could have happened while you were young. Or you felt too young. If so, this is what hits your heart, you’re still healing from this…it could feel like it’ll never heal. It really doesn’t heal entirely, ever. There’s a lot of love that pours out of you where your father is concerned, or mentioned, it could be a very sensitive subject that brings you to tears even bringing him up. The oracles would be you trying to bring order to your “messy” emotions and…failing. There is no order in grief, or an acceptable time-frame for healing. It happens gradually.

It’s possible he left your mom, again I’m seeing the contrast of order vs. messy, one may be highly emotional and the other just isn’t, it’s not a balanced match. Or this could be your own feelings with him, like you need to “stiffin up your upper lip” when it comes to him, he isn’t the most emotionally open person…you may not have a very close connection with him at all. He could be the messy one, not fit for the “order” or structure of commitment, parenting, being a stable adult. Deep down they may be very immature. No matter the story, you intuitively understand him, the reasons why he wasn’t happy, or why the two of you don’t mesh comfortably. It feels like you can’t be yourself with him, or that’s switched, it’s not comfortable or easy and you don’t want to feel like that.

Siblings: The World & 4 Pentacles rev

Oracle: Defense 🛡️ - Mars Taurus

Decision ♟️ - Mars Gemini

57 Worry

Worry is attachment to a particular outcome and the fear that it will not come to pass.

I only see one person, and the connection with that person is done. Something to do with money, they’re being described as someone that possibly uses people for money, resources, whatever they can get from you. It doesn’t say why, just that these are conscious decisions this person makes and you’re defensive over that. There may have been an occasion where they acted strategically and downright manipulative, and it’s like once you see it for what it is, you can’t unsee it. So you’ve released this person and just feel unsettled and worried should the occasion arise where you might see them again. I don’t see a close bond, just you feeling very defensive where they are concerned. They made their bed and they can lie in it, basically. Or it’s all switched. Worry may also show that you worry about them, and care, but there’s nothing you can do about this person’s decision making, and you’re not going to continue to save them…because you probably have before.

Grandparents: Knight of Swords & The Hanged Man

Oracle: Fortune 🥠 - Sun Leo

48 Play

Our work can and should take on the quality of okay, for it is play that stimulates creativity.

I’m getting someone is a talker, they value communication and they want you to call more. If you’ve been going through a difficult situation, you’re afraid of what they’ll say or how they’ll judge you - they’re simply upset you haven’t called sooner. That’s it. Are they happy with what’s happened, no, but they hold off on judging anything until they hear it from you, which is a healthy way of being - they’re not just listening to gossip and judging you off of that. This could be switched too, maybe they know you’re going through it and it’s like they purposely step back and act like they “didn’t know” because they’re just hands off and not the type to take action - when you wish they would. Ask how you are, offer to help, care about what’s going on in your world, instead of just leaving you to figure it all out. You will but…thanks? If it’s a particular relationship that’s the issue, they’re waiting until it’s over and done with, then they’ll get involved. When it’s just *you*, who they care about.

If there’s been a long pause here, that will end, and it will turn out well. They support you. For some, your grandparents may be passed on as well, and you have sadness & regrets for not having talked to them more, called more often, it’s a deep guilt that weighs on you. Because in retrospect, you may have had some of your best days with them, they accepted you with all of your silliness and “mess”, it didn’t matter, you were probably little. Very generous and loving towards you, gave you their undivided attention. However they’re gone from your world, you do miss them, a lot. If you can, call them.

Spiritual Ancestors/Guides: The Chariot rev, The Sun rev, 6 Wands

Oracle: Eccentricity 🧝‍♂️ - Saturn Aquarius

67 Introspection

Introspection is often necessary to deepen our awareness of the unity and divinity of life.

You’ve made no movement or progress towards balancing the scales in your family, addressing wounds, regrets, things people say that hurt you, or the perceptions you feel people have of you. You don’t have the confidence to do so, and this message is Spirit saying if you did - you’d be happy with the truth of the matter. People aren’t as disappointed as you think, unless it’s just you not being around, you shutting them out. Some of you are afraid to know what people think, some are just sad, you’ve been through hell and have shut your family out for awhile. You’re waiting for them to come to you, expecting it even - similar message to your mother but switched. She expects you. There’s a lot of expecting going around and not much taking action. Introspection and Eccentricity shows that your alone time is important for you to process the differences between yourself and all people, what makes you - you, and why that authentic person deserves to be supported, loved, and winning. You deserve to win. You could be braiding grass & flowers into crowns and should still be supported. Where you think you’ll be judged is exactly where you’ll be celebrated, and if not, find people that will. You shouldn’t be allowing anyone to make you feel like you can’t be yourself. And at least with the cards out here, I’m not even getting that any of these people are that way.

Maybe Dad. Dad may not tolerate “foolishness”, emotions, things that come from the heart, he could be all about money and tangible shit - what’s inside doesn’t matter. You may have learned some unfavorable things from him, he could be your inner voice that tells you - you can’t. But he’s wrong, always been wrong, and you can 💯 Don’t let one person’s limited viewpoint make any difference on what you do or don’t do ❤️ It’s just one person.

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!