#hi shin unit

[sakura-i12]

The General and The King

[blah-blah-notes]

I don't know why, but for me, this scene was much better in the manga than the anime.😍🥲

Kingdom chapter 473

[artisautismtic]

nona_navy's Welcome to the Hi Shin Unit

[whothecrappadoodlecares]

bit of a spoiler but not big

Shin, for the first time (to my memory), wearing actual expensive formal clothes instead of workout rags, finally happens on page.

Is it in an important event at the palace? no.

Is it with the king and other nobility? no

Is it when he gets awarded the title of general? not even.

it's officiating a marriage for a childhood friend in his village. not a single noble or rich person in sight. just farmers, hunters, soldier of the unit amongst their shacks.

I absolutely love that shin shows more respect towards his tried and true friends and allies than the ones the he traditionally should.

and i love that the ones who deserve that respect don't care, and the ones who demand that respect aren't worth it.

[citrus-soda]

Voted Keron's tallest kindergartner-slash-war-machine two years in a row!

bonus ↓

[sayruq]

In February, Adham, a 20-year-old Palestinian, was visiting his family’s home in the West Bank. One night while scrolling through Grindr, the gay messaging app, he received a message from an anonymous user “hey,” the user wrote, before “tapping,” the platform’s function for expressing interest. The user, like Adham’s, had a blank profile that included only minimal information about his interests and whereabouts, specifying only where he lived. (Drop Site News has changed his name to protect him from retaliation.) They hit it off and were chatting for a few hours before Adham shared that he was a university student in the West Bank. That prompted the user to share his thoughts on several professors at the university who had recently drawn attention for voicing pro-Palestine views. “He wanted me to be disgusted by them,” Adham told Drop Site. “Why are you trying to convince me that this doctor is a bad person just because he's against the occupation? It feels weird at first. Just bizarre.” Adham chalked it up to a difference of opinion and the two continued to chat. Eventually Adham sent the user his number so they could message on WhatsApp. Once the conversation moved off-platform, the user revealed his identity to Adham. “That’s when he said he worked with Israeli intelligence,” he said. Using Adham’s number, the user had identified him and began sending him messages with the names and photos of his family members he had found on their Facebook profiles. Adham hadn’t even shared his name with the user, much less anything that could point him to his family members—he’s not out to his family. “I started crying and I didn't know what to do,” Adham said. Adham blocked the profile on Grindr, but soon began receiving SMS messages repeating the same threats. “It was a whole night from 12 to the sunrise,” Adham said. “He kept threatening me, saying he will expose me.” The user told Adham he sought intelligence on Adham’s cousins who, at the time, were in an Israeli prison, awaiting trial on suspicion of their involvement with the al-Qassam brigades, Hamas’s military wing. “He told me that I should go to their homes, search and question their parents and get as much information about them as possible,” Adham recalled. “He said that you can't run away from us. We, you know where you live,” Adham said. “So I just get the SMS card, I throw it, I turned off my phone.” In the morning, he checked his mother’s phone continuously to make sure she hadn’t received any messages. One of his friends had his Grindr chats and images sent to his friends and family after receiving similarly threatening messages from a user who claimed to be an Israeli intelligence official. Drop Site could not verify the messages to Adham came from an intelligence official. But a former official with Unit 8200, Israel’s signals-intelligence agency, confirmed the involvement of Shin Bet, Israel’s internal security agency. The Israel Defense Forces declined to comment.

[augustinewrites]

I love your keeping up with the Fushiguros series! You write beautifully. I was wondering how Megumi and/or Gojo would react to reader being hit on. But reader doesn’t notice.

“which one is it?” gojo asks, resting megumi’s baseball bat on his shoulder. 

it’s no secret that gojo and megumi don’t agree on a lot of things. 

like, a lot of things. 

they don’t like the same foods, the same genre of movies, or the same style of clothes. they can never agree on what shows to watch in the morning or whether certain items are recyclable or not. 

but this is one front that they will always be united on.  

the boy scans the park, huffing as he points the offender out. “there.”

their target for this mission? male. mid to late twenties. single. a threat that must be eliminated at all costs.

he’s sitting on the same park bench that you and tsumiki are on, both of you laughing as he tells you a joke.

“does he always sit with you guys?” gojo asks, lifting his sunglasses to peer across the playground to where you are.

“yeah,” megumi confirms, glaring. 

gojo glances down at his own ten year old, touched that they’re actually on the same page for once in their lives. but he’s prompted to look back over when he hears your laugh once more, tensing when he sees the man reach across the back of the bench to touch your shoulder.

that’s his final straw.

“alright, here’s the plan,” he starts with the utmost seriousness, crouching down to the kid’s height. “we’re going to–”

“dig a hole in the field and bury him in it,” megumi finishes a little too decisively. 

“uh,” gojo laughs nervously, reconsidering whether horror movies are a good way to practice channeling cursed energy. he taps the baseball bat against his palm. “we’ll call that plan b. first we’re just gonna scare him a little. show him and everyone in this park what’ll happen if they try to make a move on what’s mine—”

megumi kicks his shin.

“ours, sorry.” 

so they move in. megumi takes two strides to match each of his, but they still look every part the intimidating sorcerer duo they’d grow to be one day. 

you see them coming right away, and gojo watches you cycle through emotions faster than tsumiki goes through strawberry milk. confusion, realization, and finally horror. 

“satoru,” you say, in that tone with that look on your face (the one that often precedes a lecture). 

he’s about to casually cut into the conversation when a little boy (the man’s son, he assumes) cuts in front of him, bashfully handing you a handful of dandelions. 

megumi doesn’t try to hide his disdain, scoffing under his breath about how they were just weeds. oh, gojo realizes as he glances down at the kid.

so he’s not the only one who’s jealous.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A number of children are brought in to a hospital in Gaza after an Israeli drone bombed the children on the roof of their home in the Al-Bureij Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip on Saturday. 📈 The current death toll in the Gaza genocide now exceeds 38'919 Palestinians killed, while another 89'622 others have been wounded since October 7th. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

GAZA GENOCIDE DAY 288: ISRAELI OCCUPATION PRIME MINISTER BLOCKING NEGOTIATIONS WITH HAMAS, WHITE HOUSE CONSIDERING SANCTIONS AGAINST BEN-GVIR AND SMOTRICH AS ICJ ACCUSES ISRAELI OCCUPATION OF VIOLATING INTERNATIONAL LAW, GENOCIDE CONTINUES UNABATED AS MASSACRES OF CIVILIANS ESCALATE

On 288th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 4 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 37 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 54 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or whose bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The Zionist Prime Minister of the Israeli occupation, Benjamin Netanyahu, refuses to authorize his negotiating team's return to Doha, Qatar, to resume negotiations with the Palestinian resistance movement, Hamas, in order to finalize a ceasefire and hostage exchange deal that could lead to an end to the genocide in the Gaza Strip.

Reporting also stated that Netanyahu is hesitant to ratify any deal prior to his planned trip to the United States, where the Prime Minister is scheduled to give a speech on July 24th to the American Congress, and will meet with US President Joe Biden.

This comes as pressure builds on Netanyahu to sign a deal with the Hamas resistance movement, which has resulted from increasing diplomatic isolation for the Zionist entity, while dozens of families of Israeli hostages being held in Gaza continue to demand the Prime Minister ink a deal to return their family members as quickly as possible.

The families, along with other groups of Israeli activists, have organized regular popular protests in Tel Aviv and elsewhere, demanding the Netanyahu regime reach an agreement for a ceasefire and hostage exchange deal, while Netanyahu has accused the Israeli security establishment of imposing the US President's proposal on his government.

In a meeting Netanyahu called on Friday, the IOF Chief of Staff, Herzi Halevi, demanded that he sign an agreement for a hostage exchange deal, after which, the Prime Minister ended the meeting.

Earlier last week, the Israeli Prime Minister said in a press conference that "for months there has been no progress (in hammering out an agreement in Gaza), because the military pressure was not strong enough."

In response, Halevi demanded Netanyahu apologize for his comments during a security conference attended by the heads of the Shin Bet security services and the Mossad intelligence agency, telling the Prime Minister that "These statements are serious. I demand that the prime minister issue an apology."

In other news on Saturday, US President Joe Biden's White House are considering issueing sanctions against National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, two openly fascist Israeli cabinet ministers, during a meeting of the National Security Council on Wednesday covering how to respond to Israeli attacks on the occupied West Bank of Palestine, and the deteriorating situation there.

Israeli colonial settlers have regularly attacked Palestinian communities in the West Bank, largely sanctioned by the Israeli government and backed by the Israeli occupation army, while the government has continued a policy of expansion of illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank, while holding up the tax revenues belonging to the Palestinian Authority.

According to reporting in the American media outlet Axios, the Biden administration is "deeply frustrated" with the Netanyahu regime's continued policy of settlement expansion and the weakening of the Palestinian Authority, noting that the more extremist members of Netanyahu's coalition have openly allied themselves with fascist colonial settler groups and militias.

Axios says the meeting was called after yet another surge in violence by Zionist colonial settlers against Palestinian communities, while the Netanyahu government has announced plans to build another 5'000 housing units for Zionist settlers and to legalize five illegal outposts.

On Friday, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at The Hague determined the Israeli occupation's practices and policies "violate International law" and that the occupation is violating Palestinians right to self-determination in the occupied West Bank, and further accused the occupation of violating the Geneva Conventions.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation has continued its genocidal war in the Gaza Strip, killing and wounding dozens of Palestinians, while decimating the few remaining housing units, facilities and infrastructure of Gaza.

On Saturday, sources with Al-Awda Hospital in the Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, reported that doctors with the facility succeeded in saving the fetus of a pregnant woman who was killed after the Israeli occupation forces bombed her home in the camp during the early morning hours.

The woman was immediately transferred to the hospital, where doctors in the Operating room managed to remove the fetus, which was born alive, before being transported to the Nursery at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the city of Deir al-Balah.

According to Palestinian sources, Zionist warplanes bombed several residential homes and a gathering of civilians in the Nuseirat Camp, killing at least 6 Palestinians and wounding several others.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) said it's rescue crews recovered the bodies of 4 Palestinians killed in the occupation's strikes, after Israeli warplanes bombed the home of the Al-Tawil family in the Nuseirat Camp, before recovering two more dead bodies after a bombing that targeted a group of civilians on Al-Rashid Street, a coastal road west of the camp, transferring the dead and wounded to Al-Awda Hospital.

In another atrocity, occupation artillery detatchments shelled the vicinity of the community college in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, southwest of Gaza City, after which, PRCS paramedic crews transported the bodies of 6 martyrs to Al-Ahili Baptist Hospital in the city.

The war crimes of the Israeli occupation continued when Israeli fighter jets bombed a residential apartment belonging to the Ayyad family in the Mari' Abu al-Amin area of the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood, north of Gaza City, killing 6 Palestinians and wounding more than 10 others.

Zionist warplanes also bombed the Al-Sharahi family home in the New Camp area of the Nuseirat Camp, killing 4 civilians, including citizen Yassin Al-Sharahi, his wife and his children, and wounding a number of others.

The Israeli occupation army then went on to bomb a residential house belonging to the Abu Sidra family in Camp-2 of the Nuseirat Camp, near the Al-Talaa Mosque in the central Gaza Strip, killing and wounding several Palestinians.

The occupation's atrocities and war crimes continued when Zionist fighter jets bombed the Abu Jasser family home in the Al-Alami area of the Jabalia Refugee Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip, resulting in the martyredom of 4 Palestinians and wounding a number of others who were transferred to Kamal Adwan Hospital in the camp.

Occupation warplanes later bombed a residential home belonging to the Al-Batran family in the Al-Bureij Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of 3 civilians and wounding several others, while another bombing destroyed a populated house near the Martyr's roundabout in the camp.

The crimes of the Zionist Army continued with an occupation drone strike that targeted a civilian riding a bicycle on Street-5, north of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing the Palestinian resident who was taken to Nasser Hospital in the city.

Reports also state that the occupation army continues to bomb and shell neighborhoods west of the city of Rafah, in southern Gaza, in conjunction with artillery shelling of residential neighborhoods east of Khan Yunis.

In yet another violation of International humanitarian law, IOF fighter jets bombed a residential house belonging to journalist Mohammad Jasser, killing the journalist, his wife and two children, all of whom were transferred to Kamal Adwan Hospital.

The Israeli occupation army followed up their horrific crimes by bombing the home of the Al-Sabbagh family in the Al-Zarqa area, north of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of two Palestinians and wounding several others.

Occupation artillery and airstrikes also continue pummeling the Al-Da'wa neighborhood, north of the Nuseirat Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, while near non-stop airstrikes and shelling have also been targeting various neighborhoods of Gaza City, as well as northern and southern Gaza, killing more than 25 civilians since dawn on Saturday, with the majority of victims being children.

The attacks continued into the evening, when Zionist army fighter jets bombed a residential house belonging to the Siam family, west of the Yassin station, in the Saftawi area north of Gaza City, while victims of the bombing were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Another occupation bombing targeted a residential building in the Nuseirat Camp, resulting in the martyredom of 3 civilians and wounding a number of others who were transferred to Al-Awda Hospital in the camp.

Later on Saturday evening, an Israeli occupation drone targeted the Araba area, north of Rafah City, in the southern Gaza Strip, killing two Palestinians and wounding others, while four Palestinian children were wounded by an occupation drone strike that targeted the children on the roof of their home in the Al-Bureij Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing war of extermination in the Gaza Strip, the death toll now exceeds 38'919 Palestinians killed, including more than 10'000 women and well over 15'000 children, while another 89'622 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

This brings the official total number of casualties to 128'541, or the equivalent of 5.58% of Gaza's 2.3 million Palestinian residents.

July 20th, 2024.

#source1

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#videosource

#graphicsource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson (it has a title y'all!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Nervous excitement has Steve out of his bed 25 minutes before his alarm goes off to wake him. It’s not unusual on game days. He gathers ingredients in the kitchen until he hears Robin’s alarm, and then he starts making both their breakfast smoothies.

She fumbles down the hallway a few moments later with her eyes still closed, takes the cup from him, and sits in the middle of their living room floor.

“Pilates today? Or did you get a workout in at the show last night?” She asks after a few sips, and Steve joins her near their mats.

“It’s a tradition, can’t go changing shit now.” He teases, laughing as she throws her head back with a tired groan. Then she’s hauling herself to her bedroom to grab a hoodie.

They exercise on the balcony, like always, but keep it light. Steve tries to get plenty of stretching in on game days, making sure he’s loose and limber before he hits the ice. After about 30 minutes, Robin’s teeth are chattering in the cool morning air, so he calls it, and they head back inside. He gathers his gear while Robin showers, and then they make their way to United.

Steve heads to the locker room to gear up, manages to finish a whole bottle of water before he hits the rink. He takes a few slow laps around the rink as the rest of the team starts to roll in, runs through a few drills on his own before team practice starts.

They keep things minimal on game days; sprints and passes, shots on goal. Steve does a final lap backwards around the rink, before clearing off to the locker room to finish putting on his uniform while the other team takes the ice for their own practice. 

As he refills his water bottle, he gets whacked in the shin with the body of a hockey stick. He watches it happen, feels an echo of the impact on his shin guard, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Max.

“Hello to you, too.” He says through a little smile. She rolls her eyes, but smiles back at him.

“They’re here.” She says, in an ominous tone, despite her smile. “You guys seemed to hit it off last night, I’m glad you didn’t scare him away with your weirdness.” 

“I’m not weird, you guys are weird.” He mumbles back, kicking the stick from her hand but catching it before it hits the ground. “Last night was fun. I just hope he doesn’t hate the game as much as I think he’s going to.”

“Awfully concerned about him having a good time.” She leans in closer to him to tease, and while he feels his ears get hot, he shoves the hockey stick back into her arms and walks back toward his locker. “Dustin is working in the AV booth tonight, so be prepared for a lot of Eddie on the big screen.”

“You overestimate how much attention I pay to the overhead.” He replies, rolling his eyes and taking a big gulp of water. 

He hadn’t exactly considered the consequences of Eddie actually coming to the game. He was bound to draw a lot of attention, but what would that turn into? Steve had, smartly, elected to stay off the internet after he’d gotten home last night, and he hadn’t bothered to check social media before coming in. He was sure there were pictures and videos of him at the show floating around, insinuating things beyond what they actually meant. He was just as sure that there was at least one person who had taken to their feeds to report that Eddie and Steve had hung out after the show; never mind the fact that everyone else was there. Never mind the fact that they weren’t alone. 

Except they had spent most of the night alone. Other than a few interruptions, their time at Fatpour had mostly consisted of Eddie and Steve sitting at a high-top table close to the bar, munching on snacks and talking about everything and nothing and whatever crossed their minds. Eddie insisted he was going to make a playlist for Steve, and Steve offered to teach Eddie how to ice skate. And it felt… nice. It had been a while since Steve had that with anyone.

Max just moves on, reminding Steve of which stretches he needs to do now that he’s in his gear, and the coach and captain both give speeches in the locker room, before everyone moves out to the rink. They take the ice as the announcer reads off their name, and Steve taps his stick with the right wing who stakes up next to him.

He glances around, chewing on his mouth guard absently. A part of him knows that Robin and Eddie and whoever else from CC made the trip to the game are in one of the boxes around the upper level of the area, but he hadn’t asked which one when he had briefly texted with Eddie this morning, and now it was too late. But, he figures it’s probably for the best. Not knowing where to look keeps him from running the risk of sparking more speculation about nothing.

______

Even having heeded Steve’s warning to wear layers to the game, Eddie is freezing. He’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under a hoodie under a leather jacket, but he’s still cold. And Robin is bouncing around the box suite in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking perfectly comfortable and Eddie doesn’t get it. He zips his leather jacket all the way up and sinks into his seat, bobbing his head along to the music echoing through the arena.

“You’re going to be cold when we’re leaving if you don’t take something off.” Robin chastises, and Eddie just rolls his eyes. Jeff, Freak and Lucas are chatting, sitting in the seats just outside of the box. Inside the box, Gareth looks just as cold as Eddie, chatting with Nancy and Will on a sofa.

Paige returns a few minutes later with a bag of merchandise, courtesy of a voucher from the team, and drops it on Gareth’s lap. “Hoodie for you,” She declares, pulling out a black hoodie with the Blackhawks logo and throwing it into Gareth’s face. “Hoodie for you,” She adds, tossing a red one in Eddie’s direction. She pulls two more thinner zip ups out of the bag and drops them on Jeff and Freak’s heads. When she comes back in, she locks eyes with Eddie, who pauses as he unzips his leather jacket.

“What?” He asks, cautiously, and she grins.

“Got something else for you,” She says, and he’s instantly concerned.

“You’re freaking me out.” Eddie points out as he slips the hoodie he’d worn over his head and replaces it with the fleece-lined red hoodie with “Blackhawks” written across the back shoulders. Robin claps and jumps up and down beside him, concerning him further.

“They put one aside!?” She asks, and Paige nods, before tossing the rest of the bag to Eddie.

When he pulls out the contents, he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “You guys asked them to give me a Harrington jersey?” He raises an eyebrow at Robin, before pulling it over his head. It fits a little loose over the hoodie, but looks similar to how he’d seen other people wear theirs.

“Steve doesn’t know, but I asked. Figured you might like it.” She says, grinning as he turns a light shade of pink he fully intends to blame on the cold.

When the team introductions start, Robin drags Eddie out into the seats just outside the box, so they have a better view. While it’s colder out there, Eddie’s warmer in the new tops, and finds he doesn’t mind it as much. 

Robin and the members of the Party in the box break into cheers when Steve skates out onto the ice, and Eddie can’t help the little smile that crosses his face as he watches Steve interact with his team.

The puck drops and Steve manages to slip it away from the Kraken’s center, gliding down the ice effortlessly before passing it off. It’s a tiny thing, trying to pay attention to the puck, so Eddie finds himself just tracking Steve as he zips and twists around. After a few minutes, Steve skates back to the Blackhawks box and jumps in as another player hits the ice.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” Eddie’s confused as he looks at Robin, who gives him a soft smile.

“He’s fine. They only play for so long, before they switch out to keep them from getting tired.”

He tries to pay attention to what’s happening then, with Steve off the ice, but finds himself watching the other sit along the bench. He bangs his stick against the wall a few times, shouting things Eddie can’t hear. When he gets up to go back into the game, he pats the player he’s replacing on the back before hitting the ice. 

The next chance he gets the puck, he takes a shot toward the goalie, who stops the puck between his legs. Steve keeps skating, zipping around and getting back into the action. He gets the puck back, but is quickly checked by two Krakens who send him into the boards hard. Eddie grimaces, and a penalty is called on both Krakens for charging.

Steve scores a goal in the second period, and Eddie joins the Party in cheering along. He spots himself on the big screen and grabs Robin, pulling her into frame as she jumps up and down. 

The celebrations die down a little, and Robin scooches closer to him. “I can have them knock it off, if you don’t want to be up there. Dustin’s in the booth right now.” She offers, and he shrugs.

“I don’t mind. I kind of expected it, after the TikTok blew up.” He shrugs, tracking Steve back around the ice.

Blackhawks end up winning the game, 5-2, and while Steve doesn’t score again, he assists in each of the following goals. Each time, he has a different celebration with whoever he set up for the goal, and it’s sweet to watch Steve goof off, to hear his friends' excitement as he succeeds.  Walking back out of the booth, Eddie feels like his voice is more raw from screaming at the hockey game than it was from last night’s concert. 

_____________

“You shouldn’t skip the ice bath, Steve, you took a hard hit into that wall.” Max is lecturing as they move through the arena to where she says everyone is waiting. 

“I’m fine, I’ve taken worse hits and I stretched plenty. My shoulder just dug into the pad wrong. I’ll have a bruise, but it’s fine.” He insists, holding the door open for her then following her into the box where chaos immediately erupts.

Mike and Lucas are bouncing around, gushing about how great he played. Steve laughs, squeezing Lucas’ shoulder and ruffling Mike’s hair, before his eyes land on the band. They’re all wearing fresh Blackhawks gear, and Steve can’t help but grin.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you guys were able to come! Did you have a good time?” He asks, moving closer to them.

“Dude, I fucking love hockey. I haven’t been to a game in forever, this was sick. And you were killing it out there. I think I like hockey even more knowing someone who is playing.” Freak says, and Gareth nods along.

“Hockey is the only sport I’d ever really been interested in, so this was fun! Great game.”

“I have never had an interest in hockey before, but it was still cool to learn about.” Jeff admits, and then Steve turns to Eddie. His hands are tucked up inside the sleeves of the jersey, nestled in the front pocket of the hoodie beneath, but he grins.

“I concede, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated. I think it helps that you were awesome out there.”

Steve turns a soft shade of pink, shaking his head before nodding back toward the door out of the box. “Want to grab dinner with us? I’m starving.”

______________

They’re in some bar Steve texted the directions to but Eddie can’t remember the name, when he catches Steve staring at him from his spot between Dustin and Lucas. Eddie raises an eyebrow and waves a little, which seems to snap Steve out of it. He blushes and waves back, before covering his face with his hands. Eddie snorts, before getting up and moving so he’s sitting across from Steve.

“You weren’t mad that I put you up on the big screen, right? I think the team actually put it up on socials at some point, so I hope you didn’t mind.” Dustin rambles at Eddie as soon as he sits, but he’s quick to ease the kid’s concerns.

“It was fun. Don’t worry about it, kid. Really.” He says, watches Dustin visibly relax, but then Robin carts him and Lucas away, giving Steve and Eddie space and tossing a wink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie finds himself growing to appreciate her more and more. “I really did have a good time tonight. Cross my heart.” Eddie says, before drawing an “x” over his heart with his fingers.

Steve laughs, and opens his mouth to say something before he seems to reconsider. He thinks for a moment, before leaning over the table. “Are you wearing my jersey?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looks down and laughs. He’d forgotten he hadn’t taken it off, and Robin had said that Steve didn’t know about it. “I mean, it’s technically not yours. Just has your name and number on it.”

Steve squints his eyes before he leans back and takes a sip of his beer. Eddie seizes the opportunity to be chaotic, then, decides to take the leap. “I mean, I totally could be wearing your jersey, if you wanted me to. But you’re going to have to take me out of this one first.” 

It’s worth it, if for no other reason than Steve starts choking on his drink, coughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention. He composes himself quickly, but his face is still bright red, and Eddie grins.

“You’re a menace.” Steve accuses, voice hoarse and thick, and Eddie shrugs.

“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm going to try reblogging with a tag list this week because it's LONG and I have no idea how else to try to make it work without hitting a character limit. Thank you to everyone who is still reading! I've got so many ideas for this bouncing around in my head, I can't wait to flesh them out and I hope you continue to enjoy!

[sakura-i12]

The Boss has Arrived!!

KingdomS04E06

[secular-jew]

BREAKING. Huge news. Hostage recovered alive! It's not surprising that Al Jazeera is withholding the name of the rescued hostage today. Why?

Because the rescued hostage was Qaid Farhan al-Qadi (52 years old), a Muslim Arab Bedouin who was rescued in a Gazan terror tunnel, saved by dozens of Israeli Jews who put themselves in mortal danger in a daring and dangerous operation.

The hostage rescue was carried out by Israel's Shayetet 13 Unit, an elite group of Navy Commandos, with collaboration from the IDF southern command, the Shin Bet security agency, and the IDF's 162 Division.

Shayetet is the Hebrew word for "Cruise" and is Israel's equivalent of the US Navy Seals.

This is a picture of Qaid Farhan al-Qadi before Oct 7th.

This is a picture of Qaid Farhan al-Qadi in a hospital bed in Israel, with his religious Muslim brother and a religious Jewish doctor. There are 2 million Muslim Arabs who lives as equal citizens in Israel -- IDF soldiers risked their lives to bring him home, with the focus and vigor as they would any other citizen.

This represents Israeli partnership in all its glory is exemplified in this powerful and joyful moment. Would you see such an image in ANY Arab Islamic country?

May he have a refuah shleima mehara.

[artisautismtic]

[puck-luck]

the adventurous one | dawson mercer

warnings: outdoor/public sex, unprotected sex, references to oral (f!receiving) at a later date, dirty talk, praise pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader request: "Okay hear me out but Dawson seems like such a nature lover and hiking guy. So could I request something where he and reader go on a hike by a river or something because Dawson wanted to show her but she doesn’t want to hike anymore (lazy girls unite) so she stops him for a “water break” and slowly she manages to get him to have sex right there. Completely public but also private? Please?" ABSOLUTELY! wc: 2000

“Daws, slow down,” you call, watching the distance between your boyfriend and yourself increase with each step. 

Dawson had invited you to go on a hike with him this afternoon in place of his normal workout. You had said yes because you love your boyfriend, but you were both all too well aware that he was a little more physically fit than you, being, oh, an athlete and all.

You had held out as long as you could before asking for a break, but you’re nearing a creek and it’s a pretty sight, so maybe Dawson will let it slide.

You sit down on a stone and dig through your backpack for your water bottle, gulping down the still icy-water. Dawson has turned around and is making his way back to you now, plopping down on another rock near you and stretching his legs out. 

“Tired already, baby?” Dawson asks, rubbing his shins and grinning at you.

You glare at him, bothered by his teasing. You take another gulp of your water, then shove the bottle back into your bag. “Not tired, just hot.”

“You always are,” Dawson says with a nod. He stands, then grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet. “Ready to move along?”

You groan, pursing your lips and looking up at him with a furrowed brow. Dawson mistakes your displeasure for a similar pose that you do when you’re asking for a kiss, so he leans down to peck your lips. He takes your hand and goes to pull you along, but you stay in place.

“What if I proposed an alternate workout?” You ask. “Instead of finishing this hike.”

Dawson chuckles a little, coming to stand in front of you. He ducks his head a bit and raises his eyebrow comically, like he’s listening intently to the idea that hasn’t even fully formed in your head yet.

You walk your fingers over his chest, teasing him. 

“It involves cardio,” you say, trailing off. You let your hand slide up his neck and into his hair sensually, then you smile at him. “Your favorite kind of cardio.”

Dawson laughs, twisting the end of your ponytail with his index finger. “How about we finish this hike and then, when we get home, I’ll treat you to some of that cardio?”

“Or,” you drawl, “You could fuck me right here and then we could go home?”

Dawson looks around. “Right here?” He asks. “In– on the trail?”

You shrug, batting your eyelashes coyly at the boy. “Why not?” You ask. “Aren’t you supposed to be the adventurer here? Why am I the one suggesting this?”

He’s got a silly look on his face, seeming suspended in time as he processes what you’re saying, and you want to poke his cheek to wipe the expression off his face. Instead, you push his hair back and scrunch your nose while he thinks, peppering a series of kisses over his cheeks and the corner of his lip.

“You’re dangerous, huh?” Dawson finally says. “And you hate hiking that bad?”

“Well, I only really said yes because I wanted to spend time with my cute boyfriend,” you say. “And since I’ve thought of a better idea than hiking, I want to spend time with my cute boyfriend that way.”

Dawson sucks his teeth, then his tongue pokes through the hole in his mouth. You can tell he’s relenting, even a little excited by the idea. He pushes you backwards, walking you off the side of the trail just far enough that you can still see the pathway, but no one can see you in the trees unless they’re looking.

“Right here?” Dawson asks, biting his lower lip and sliding his hands over your waist, underneath your shirt. “Right now?” He untucks his lip and kisses you, then lathers his lips down your neck. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pulling off his shirt and getting your hands on his sweaty chest. 

Dawson tucks the shirt into his backpack before returning to you, then pulls your shorts down your legs and tucks them away. 

You’re half naked against a tree, feeling much more vulnerable than you ever have been, and you feel very glad that Dawson isn’t moving to take your shirt off. Yes, you suggested this, but it was really a ploy to get out of hiking. You’re not normally this adventurous, true to your word that Dawson is supposed to be the adventurous one, but the thought of being in public does send a little thrill up your spine… in addition to the thrill from the litany of kisses that Dawson continues to leave along your exposed neck, shoulders, and chest. 

“Give it to me, Daws,” you whisper, pulling him up to your lips. He uses one hand to push his shorts down just enough that he can draw his cock out and wrap his fist around it. 

He pets his cock through your folds as he strokes himself to full hardness, letting the tip of his dick poke at your clit and stimulate you to the point that you’re dripping for him. The spongy head of his member leaks against you and helps spread your slick. He pitches his hips forward once he’s satisfied that you’re both completely ready.

“Have you been keeping secrets from me?” Dawson teases quietly. “I didn’t realize you love me so much that you would let me take care of you in front of everyone.”

“There’s no one here,” you reply, just as his tip breaches your hole and you let out a sigh. 

“But you would, wouldn’t you?” Dawson says. “If I wanted to fuck you somewhere way more public, you’d let me, yeah?”

He continues to push inside you with little strokes, teasing you as he draws in and out. He’s filling you, but he keeps sliding out with slow pumps. He’s waiting for you to answer, but he’s not stopping his movements. It feels far too good for you to do anything but moan, so Dawson continues to talk. 

“Maybe for another time,” Dawson muses. “For now, how about I make you come and then we can head home and I’ll give you another one?”

“Yeah,” you agree, clutching at Dawson’s muscles.

He hikes your leg over his hip and drills forward, covering you with his own body. His thrusts are short and pointed, hitting your back wall and causing your mouth to drop open in pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your tight walls around him.

You squeeze him as you near your peak, only intensified by the breeze rustling through the trees that reminds you that you’re in public and anyone could walk by. You wrap your arms around him, forearms sticking to his skin. One of your hands grip the waves of his hair tightly, tugging slightly with each thrust. 

“C’mon, babe,” Dawson murmurs. “Come on my cock and I’ll clean you up when we get home.”

He speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand up your loose shirt to squeeze one of your tits. He pinches your nipple and tugs a bit, leaving you whimpering beneath him.

“I can feel you getting closer,” Dawson continues in a whisper, his voice filling your ear like a physical caress. “I want to feel you fall apart.” He sucks your neck, nipping at your earlobe. 

You arch up into him, his cock shifting inside you to hit your g-spot. You reach down and rub circles over your clit with your middle finger, your head tipping back and getting caught on the bark of the tree. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, sucking at the edge of your jaw. “Atta girl.”

Your moans grow high pitched and Dawson covers your lips with his own to make sure no one can hear you, even though you haven’t heard anyone else walk along the path since before you thought to entice him.

You come over his cock, clenching down on him as your body is riddled with shocks and waves of bliss. 

Dawson slows as you come, watching your expression change with the feelings that overcome you. 

When you recover, he’s back to sliding in and out of you, stimulating his cock just enough to stay hard but not enough to threaten his own orgasm if you want to stop. 

“What are you doing?” You groan, frowning and tugging his hair. “Go, Dawsy.”

“Go?” He questions. “Y’sure?”

“Want you to come too,” you reassure him, locking your leg around his waist and lifting the other to join it. Now, he’s pressing you against the tree to keep you in place and he’s reaching a deeper spot inside of you. You’re wrapped around him like an octopus and you’re grinning at each other.

“Okay, baby,” he agrees, starting to move again.

“Don’t hold back,” you instruct, and he laughs.

“Okay, no holding back,” Dawson says, then shushes you with a little peck. “You asked for it.”

He lunges into action, thrusting forward with a determination that leaves you reeling, especially after you just experienced such a strong orgasm. 

He’s quick and hard. He pushes you against the tree and it hurts a little bit, but not enough to make you ask him to stop. You want him to come, come inside you, give you something to clean up later when you get home and he puts his head between your legs. 

The thought of that draws you away from the bark that’s rubbing against your bare backside, turning the discomfort into intense pleasure as you resume your soft circles over your clit. 

Dawson is grunting in your ear, kissing you, holding you tightly and praising you as much as he can before going breathless. His hips are stuttering, bucking against you in an uncoordinated way that signals his impending orgasm. 

“Fill me up, Dawson,” you goad, scratching over his back with your nails, marking him up. You’ll look down at those marks when he eats you out at home and moan louder, making the same kind of noises that Dawson is making now as he crests over.

“Baby,” he moans as his seed starts to spill inside of you, filling you and warming you. He pumps his hips, letting his orgasm run its course. Little noises and pants leave his mouth, lips brushing against your own. “Yeah,” he murmurs, repeating the word as he comes back to himself and the pleasure dissolves. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you agree, rolling your hips a few times, then tapping his shoulder. “Okay. Get out. Time to go home.”

“But I like it so much in here,” Dawson teases, sounding faux-pained just to get on your nerves. He always does this, especially when you guys risk a quickie before you need to be somewhere or meet someone. 

“Mmm, well, maybe you can come back later,” you assure him as he slides out of you and tucks himself away. 

He uses his shirt to wipe between your legs before pulling your shorts up your legs, redressing you and kissing your stomach before coming back up to your lips. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you reply.

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back to the trail, walking down the part of the path you’ve already taken back to the car. “You really didn’t like hiking with me?” He asks. “So much that you’d risk getting a tick– which I’m going to check you for later, by the way– just to convince me to go home?”

“I wanted to work out with my cute boyfriend,” you remind him, swinging your hands between you. “This type of work out is much more fun than walking up a big ol’ hill.”

“I’ll convince you one day,” Dawson teases good-naturedly. “But you know, I won’t complain if you want to do this again.” He flashes you a wink and a big smile, a little skip to his walk that you match all the way to the car.

note: i'm still at work! this is andy from the past! i hope you guys enjoyed this fic and i can't wait to come back and be more active in a couple of weeks <3

[writers-potion]

Writing Armour

Types of Armour

All types of clothing provide some protection.

For street fights where you have a couple of teenagers brawling, it would be appropriate to dress them in jeans and a jacket. For more protection, a quilted winter coat or a morotbiker's thick leather jacket, perhaps.

Leather, especially when treated and straightened, offers good protection against arrows, swords, and spears.

The historical armour will include glued-together layers of fabric, thin wooden or bone platelets sewn onto cloth. For wealthier and more advanced societies, metal would be used.

An armour has many parts, and you'll want to describe them with varying levels of detail. However, here are the basics:

A cuirass is a breastplate, protecting the heart and abdomen.

Greaves are shin guards, usually strapped on, protecting the front fo teh lower legs.

Arm guards (bracers)

Helmets

Modern armour will involve a bulletproof vest (which may also be knife-proof). It can be stiff and heavy, and the wearer will sweat under them.

The body armour can lose its effectiveness after a few years.

Disadvantages of Armour

The typical armour (made of steel) is heavy and clunky. In a few hours, your hero is likely to be sweaty, hot and stinky on the inside.

Armour restricts mobility.

Every armour have gaps (the wearer needs to breathe!), and a clever fighter will aim for the chinks.

Shields

Shields are held by the hand rather than worn, so larger shields will be cumbersome and heavey to move, while smaller ones will offer only partial protection.

Shield often consise of wooden frames with leather, hides or metal. They may be painted with heraldic emblems, scary faces, or with magical pentagons.

A shield can also be used as a weapon, like ramming it under the opponent's chin or slamming it down his feet.

The smaller fighter can use a shield well to their advantage, since a shield of the same size will have fuller coverage of their body. However, they will need a strong arm.

Units of githers may use shield formations, such as the tortoise of the Roman legions, the shield wall of the Vikings, and the Greek hoplites shielding not only themselves but the man next to them.

This post is for writers who are trying to bluff their way through a fight scene with minimal knowledge! For full-fledged scenes, I recommend more research.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[opultea]

Where’s My Kiss? - 2

Genshin men see you kiss something, and can’t help but want one for themselves… ft. Gorou, Wanderer

GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - Drabbles - Fluff, Angst w/ fluff ending (Wanderer) - SFW (very slightly suggestive at the end of Gorou's)

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 1 - ft. Dottore, Zhongli

Guest Staring - Tawara! Camp dog of the Watastumi Resistance. (Featured in the 2023 birthday art for Gorou, check it out if you haven't seen it!)

Gorou

The finality of the hard won end to the Vision Hunt Decree was an event celebrated by all of Inazuma, most of all the resistance of Watatsumi. Although despite the relief and happiness that the peace brought, there was also the struggle of readjustment. It was not easy coming down from the high tensions of war, and the army still had soldiers in excess. Many now contributed to the last relief efforts for struggling communities, and as reconnaissance units. This was the very task you and a very special operations officer were undertaking at present.

Tawara scouted ahead as you secured the empty battlefield. Many war torn plains were left with lasting remains of equipment and resources, of which you and your trusty camp dog were tasked with retrieving. Her Excellency wished to put the war in the past, and to move forward, there couldn’t be such reminders of the horrors endured during the time.

“Tawara! Where are you boy?” You called, hoping the sweet shiba hadn’t gone too far. A yip in the distance helped your eyes find the pup stood atop a small hill where the enemy camp would have been.

This particular battlefront had little left of the war, only a few broken weapons and cracked armour plates that weren’t considered worth salvaging when the camp was first emptied. You took stock of how much still lay in the field so you could get an accurate gauge of how many soldiers it would take to clean it up for good.

Tawara zipped down the hill and over to you, pressing his paw to your shin to gain your attention. Looking down, you smiled at the pup and the dendrobium he held in his mouth.

“For me?” Tawara carefully dropped the bloom at your feet and barked cheerfully, sitting and awaiting your reaction expectantly. “Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest,”

You knelt down and cooed at the camp dog’s cuteness, squishing his fluffy cheeks in your hands, causing Tawara’s tail to wag wildly behind him.

Plucking the dendrobium off the ground, you inspected the deep red bloom before your gaze drifted across the still-dead grass of the field. New shoots of green could be seen dotting the dry dirt, but there was no mistaking the ground flattened by the feet of soldiers. Perhaps Her Excellency would approve planting some dendrobiums in the field to restore and improve the area.

“You’re a true genius Tawara,” you smiled, smoothing the fur on his head with a well-deserved pat. You went a step further with your affections, clasping Tawara's face in your hands again to press a gentle kiss on his left and then his right ear, before landing one on his snout. You laughed as the pup licked your cheek in return.

Little did you know that another loving pupper was watching the whole affair with unidentified jealousy and a fluttering heart.

Gorou had been notified of your mission long before you set out to complete it, being the general. Although he admittedly preferred when the actions assigned to you could be carried out alongside him, or at least within the campgrounds. Being apart was never easy, even when he knew you would return eventually.

Today Gorou had been lucky enough to finish his reports early and decided that his free time may as well have been used to help you with your mission. He had no doubt in your abilities, but Gorou tended to miss you quickly, so you often received a helping hand from the doggy general even when you didn't need one.

Rounding the hill close to the old front, Gorou felt a streak of unease being back in a place where he had fought so viscously, but it was all washed away as soon as he saw you. His tail began to sway as he approached, watching you smile and interact with Tawara. Then he saw it.

Gorou’s left and then right ear twitched in unison with your kisses, his mouth agape and face flushed. You had never kissed his ears before. The general's ears continued to twitch as he imagined your lips touching them, the images in his mind sending another round of fluttering to his heart.

As Gorou stood frozen and red hot at the edge of the field, Tawara eventually noticed him, barking in recognition and bounding over to greet his superior officer. You followed closely behind, equally happy to find that your boyfriend had come to see you.

"Gorou! Done with your work already?" He didn't hear your question until he shook himself from his stupor. "You okay honey? You're all red,"

"Y-yes!" The confusion on your face caused Gorou's pause, his body fidgeting and eyes trying to latch onto something that could ground his thoughts. "I just, umm... do you think I could... no, never mind."

"Gorou," you gently took his cheek in your hand, placing the other on his chest. "We've talked about this; you know I'll never judge you for anything,"

Ears coming to lay on his head Gorou nodded, still blushing wildly as he finally found the courage to make his request.

"Could you... kiss my ears?"

You cooed quietly, heart overflowing with love for your sweet partner but trying not to embarrass him further. Taking his hands in your own, you kiss Gorou's ears twice each, trying not to giggle at the way they twitched each time.

As you brought yourself away, Gorou whimpered faintly, likely not on purpose.

"Come on, let's head back to camp. I have a report to give for this reconnaissance mission, and you have more kisses to gain, perhaps somewhere more private?"

You smiled demurely as Gorou blushed, swiftly nodding his head and following you and Tawara back to the camp with anticipation.

Wanderer

Now renowned scholar ‘Hat Guy’ was currently in class, despite his vehement protests towards attending formal lectures, leaving you alone in the home to tidy up the shared space.

Lesser Lord Kusanali had seen your relationship bloom since the beginning, before even either of you had seen it. She was immensely pleased that the previously misanthropic puppet had grown to love another, and once informed of the official announcement of your relationship, she generously allowed the Wanderer to move from the Sanctuary Surasthana to a home of her choosing close by. It was a quaint and quiet home, but both of you cherished the space. It was a place you could just be together, and need nothing more. Because of this, you took great pride in making sure the home remained a place of respite, and so liked to keep it tidy.

Deciding to start with the laundry, you gathered a basket and went to the bedroom to gather anything in need of washing. Humming a little to yourself, you plucked the pillows off the bed, thinking of washing the cases, when a little thud on the ground came as you lifted your partners pillow.

Curious, you knelt to inspect the thing that had fallen. What was he hiding in his pillow? Kuni certainly wasn’t the type to believe in improving his sleep by hiding trinkets under his head. However, what you discovered made you gasp. On the floor lay the tiny cotton doll resembling Kunikuzushi, its beaded eyes reflecting its obvious displeasure with having taken such a fall.

Tenderly, you took the doll in your hand and stroked its head as you would with Kunikuzushi. Why was it here? You had only ever seen the doll once or twice when Kunikuzushi had readjusted his sleeves or changed shirts, but you knew that he always carried the cotton companion with him. Running your hand gently across the doll, you felt a snag on its back. Turning it over revealed a tear in the seam, a puff of cotton poking out its spine.

“Oh, poor thing,” you muttered, rising slowly while you cradled the doll like a babe. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Collecting a sewing kit from the drawer and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, you let the doll rest on your lap as you prepared. Gently, as if it could feel your stitching, you mended the fabric. You smiled as you steadily sewed. It made you happy to think you could help Kuni this way, even if he had tried to hide the issue under his pillow.

Kuni has always been private, even with your long-standing relationship it wasn’t easy for him to show such vulnerability. But this doll was his vulnerability, a piece of him he showed almost no one. It was fulfilling to aid it.

Pulling the thread tight, you tied it off and admired your handy work, turning the doll over to greet it again,

“There, all better.” You landed a tender kiss on the top of its head, sealing all your love and care into its plush fabric.

A small choke brought your head up, allowing you to see your partner standing in the doorway, a rare kind of apprehension etched upon him. Your eyes caught each others, astir in stagnant bodies. Kunikuzushi's hand trembled on the doorframe, mouth open as if trying to form words he didn't know.

Through the silence, you lifted a slow hand, extended and opened with a hopeful invitation. The puppet approached, taking your hand and the seat beside you. No words were spoken as you gently lowered his head into your lap, letting his body lie across the bed and his arms wrap around the mended doll. As tears began to shake from Kunikuzushi’s face, you leaned down to press kisses to his head, caressing his hair and allowing him to finally feel the pain and vulnerability that had always ached in the space where his heart should have been.

"Thank you, for daring to love all of me," The shaking whisper stirred the greatest sense of care in your heart.

"You have never deserved anything less,"

The response brought him to sit up, clasping his body around yours as he continued to wring tears into your shoulder.

Perhaps it was not often that Kunikuzushi showed his vulnerability, but you could never stand to mind. Not when these tender moments were so treasured. Besides, you knew well that you would take anything he gave you. You were ready to love it all.

[rooksunday]

hi okay so we’re onboard with fox and his droid buddy and all i’m saying is

there’s a universe where the kaminoans weren’t quite as confident in their product and they slid one perfect android into each dispatched division, to report back on defects in the clones in the field. to protect the IP, and all that.

the AD units don’t know what they are. why would they need to know that someone else sees through their eyes? besides, all vode know they are observed from the moment they’re decanted until the moment they die. what would one more set of eyes be, after all that?

anyway what i’m saying is that, in the coruscant guard, those eyes are thorn’s.

but the force is dark on coruscant and it does strange things to thorn’s circuitry. he gets blackouts—but many in the guard experience blackouts. he should report them—he feels strongly that he’s supposed to report them and yet—but it’s probably just the weather. the job. not getting enough fresh air or laps. that’s probably it.

then thorn is lost on scipio, and all his data is lost with him.

(by that point the kaminoans don’t bother issuing new AD units. the war has firmly cemented their galactic reputation.)

time passes. then, one day that resembles every other murky day, a knock comes at fox’s door. it’s honk!, the mouse droid that adopted fox for some absurd reason, and behind him trails—

fox stares. “that’s a b1 in a trench coat.” he jolts to his feet, drawing his blaster in the same motion, and shouts, “that’s a kriffin’ b1 in a karking trench coat! i’m going to hang widget by his toes!”

the clanker dodges the first shot, and the second, and then fox yelps as honk! tases him in the shin and—

“what in haran is going on in here?” stone demands, bullying past the crowd. he stops in the doorway to fox’s office and has to take off his helmet. “i reiterate my question more forcefully.”

fox is hopping, holding onto his shin with one hand, and waving his blaster in the face of a placid b1 droid. a droid wearing a trench coat. a droid with red wings painted on the crest of its chassis.

“honk! is a separatist! arrest these droids!” fox yells. his eyes are wide and his forehead glistens with sweat. he has, stone notes, impeccable balance.

“i’m not a separatist, sir,” the b1 says. “you said they’d never take me, anyway. remember?”

it sounds—

fox’s blaster hand is shaking. “i don’t— i don’t know what you’re— stone! shoot it!”

stone didn’t reach for his blaster. he’d get decommissioned, but he waved off the troopers crowding behind him, and he didn’t reach for his blaster.

at least the clanker would shoot him in the front. stone swallowed.

“sir, i—“

“commander—“ the clanker started.

fox barked a command, underscored with a wave of his blaster. “no!”

a flurry of beeps came from the region of fox’s ankles, loud in the standoff. honk! whirred around fox’s desk and chittered at stone. he glanced at his vambrace, then honk!, then the clank— then the droid. then fox.

fox’s hand was trembling on his blaster. he could’ve shot the droid a dozen times by then but he hadn’t. he didn’t seem able to look away from those red wings for more than seconds at a time.

stone swallowed again.

he’d been wishing for thorn to come back for a long time, and now he finally understood the warning in all those tubie tales. be careful what you wish for didn’t cover even half of it.