#i just worry about them. and from my privileged point of view i wish there was anything i could do

[shreddedleopard]

I genuinely think William’s real name is actually still William, just with a different surname.

Hear me out.

#1 — irony.

Remember the omake where Bonde asks him and he’s got his ☺️ face ‘that’s a secret, heh heh heh.’

Lol William is the biggest mischievous jokester going. This would be his exact reaction if people were asking like 👀 omg what is it?? And all along he’s like, lol will.i.am guys, chill. No-one cares about your first name, it’s your surname which means anything around here. You’ve all been barking up the wrong tree. Which brings me on to my second point ~

#2 — symbolism.

I cannot scream enough about how bloody genius it would be for William’s name to be, in fact, just William, but with a more common surname like ‘Smith.’ For the purposes of this discussion, let’s call him William Smith. As an orphan, he gets adopted into the family Moriarty, where there is in fact another William: Master William James Moriarty. Immediately, you have two boys of similar ages with the exact same first names, highlighting how, in fact, they should be equal if we’re looking at their basic information and identifiers. But what is it which sets them apart, and is the very message and theme running through the heart of Yuumori? Class inequality. And what dictated your social class at the time, so very unfairly? Your family lineage.

The name of Moriarty is what gives Albert’s little brother his superior, privileged position in life, over William ‘Smith.’ And yet, they are both young boys, both Williams, both should have the same sort of start in life in the equal world our William wishes to create. But they do not; the moment they are given their surnames — the moment those are penned on the paper of their birth records following ‘William’, the chasm that divides these boys is immense and unfair.

#3 — interesting coincidences, hints and clues in the text.

• William loves Shakespeare — that’s part of his identity in the same way being a mathematician is. He quotes Shakespeare all the time, he grew up in a library and has all of the plays memorised. Shakespeare’s first name was also William. Additionally, Shakespeare’s birthday is believed to be April 23rd. William’s birthday is listed as April 1st — April Fool’s Day, and it has been confirmed that this is a fake birthday, so we don’t know his real one currently. (But my guess is it’s still in April).

• The Moriarty’s never call William by his name, pre-fire, but the children at his orphanage do, and they call him Will.

At the Moriarty house, he is on the receiving end of more hate than Louis; they seem to despise him to the nth degree. I wonder if this might be because he shares a name with their precious William, and this irks them. They refuse to call him by his name because that doesn’t belong to him, filth from the streets, it belongs to their beloved son who can do no wrong.

I can see a mother like Lady Moriarty refusing to call another boy by the name she gifted her son, especially when William reminds her that there is something she had in common with his own mother — someone who she would view as completely beneath her: they chose the same name. What a disgrace, to be associated or viewed as having a similar mind to a woman of such low standing!?

We also see William only ever call William Moriarty with the title ‘master’ in front, as though he also feels the need to make the distinction. This could just be because he’s trying to be polite, though. I could honestly dissect the entire first chapter panel by panel and highlight how William being William is such a simple but perfect concept which highlights this noble family’s insecurities, discrimination and narrow mindedness. William Moriarty feels the need to constantly reaffirm his own identity in the presence of our William.

Because … if they share full names now, with the adoption … the lines are blurring. What makes one William Moriarty superior to the other? A worrying thought indeed for this boy. (Answer: there is no difference, they’re both equally deserving of opportunities in life.)

It all makes such perfect sense and explains away the awkwardness of the writer having to avoid use of William’s name simply because ‘it needs to stay hidden to create the mystery.’ This gives the characters themselves reason within the text to avoid using it, which makes everything so much more authentic and real. It makes sense because it does, not because it has to for the plot.

• William promised not to steal anything. Twice, we see him reassuring and then reaffirming that he wouldn’t steal anything, and both times are in the presence of William Moriarty.

If we want to take this statement in light of names, and toy with that lovely device foreshadowing, William having always shared the same first name would in fact mean that statement holds true — he did not steal William’s name; it was always his own to begin with, and Moriarty was a name given to him as part of his adoption, the same as it was given to Louis. He really didn’t steal anything, despite the fact that he was probably made to feel guilty or worthless every day because of the name he shared with William Moriarty.

This also means that William probably never actively deceived any of the townspeople, either; it really was just a case of mistaken identity which he manipulated for his own cause.

The townspeople made the mistake, rather than William outright lying. William is, by trade, more of a master manipulator who turns situations to his advantage with his quick thinking, rather than straight up lying or deceiving people (see: The Merchant of London.)

• Sherlock saw his birth name but never mentions it. And still chooses to call him Liam. Yes, we might’ve had a conversation happen off screen. Yes, Sherlock might choose to do that because that name is sentimental and William has asked not to be called his true name for reasons unknown. But it would fit so beautifully if William really is his name, and Sherlock’s realisation that day when he read the birth records was that oh, so this — William ‘Smith’ — is Liam’s real name. Naturally, he would continue to call him Liam with no discussion needed, because it’s a shortened version of William.

• We have lots of characters who share the name William, but with different variations on the shortened version; another symbol of how people can be equal in some senses but also their identity can be individual to them also. William H Bonney is Billy the Kid, the mathematics genius William and Sherlock stumble upon in Durham is called Bill Hunt.

#4 — practicality and marketing.

People become attached to characters and their names, and there comes a certain point in a work where it’s very difficult to alter a character’s first name and still retain a fan base’s sense of identity for that character. Calling William say, Robert, from now on, or revealing that as his true name while we continue to see him referred to as William is all sorts of confusing, emotionally. Perhaps it’s just me. But the idea that I’ve been calling William the wrong name all along feels off and sad, whereas the knowledge that he’s at least been able to keep that part of himself consistent, when everything else has had to be an act, is actually really comforting and empowering.

I’d love to write another thought dump on why William being William all along is also, so very emotionally delicious when you explore the implications in the story; it’s heartbreaking and makes him an even more sympathetic character who I just wanna hug, so perhaps I’ll come back to this! Because re-reading those earlier chapters with this in mind really hurts so good.

He stole nothing; he was always the true William, that at least is one thing that always belonged to him — it was only society and us that dictated there was one William worth knowing more — was more interesting and held more narrative power — than the other.

This is still William’s story.

[rosemaidenvixen]

The Pinned Moth

Chapter 5: Gnashing teeth

Content warning: non graphic torture, dehumanization

Ao3

The Collector let out a whoop and jumped down from the tree, landing into a fresh, powdery pile of snow. Playing pretend was fun, but he liked to shake things up every once and a while with a new game. And King was right, going to the knee to play in the snow was tons of fun to!

He popped his head out of the drift and shook off the powder “Hey King, let’s make a snow-demon!”

No reply.

They glanced around at the snow covered rocks and trees surrounding them, more flakes drifting down from the sky, but King was nowhere to be seen. Grin dropping off their face, the Collector floated up into the air and glanced around “King?”

There, from his higher view, he saw King was sitting on a rock on the other side of the hill, hugging his knees and staring at the Archive house in the distance.

He looked…sad. 

Drifting over, the Collector touched down on the ground just behind the rock “King, what’s wrong?”

King stiffened, tail going puffy “Oh– it’s, it’s nothing,”

They frowned “It’s not nothing, you’re sad,”

“No– I– it’s just–” King let out a deep sigh, raised fur lowering, and lifted a claw to point towards the far off Archive house “You knew….my dad, right?”

Oh. 

King hadn’t been looking at the house, he’d been looking at the skull.

“Yeah,” the Collector jumped up and floated down to sit on the rock next to King “He put me in that stupid disk, big bully,”

“So I guess my dad was a big jerk,” King let out a small laugh, but the noise didn’t sound happy.

Hearing King sound so miserable made the Collector’s insides feel all twisty. He didn’t want to make King even sadder, he was his best friend, he had to make this better.

“Don’t worry, you’re not like that!” he turned towards King, pushing himself up onto his hands and needs “Like, all the other Collectors were jerks, but I’m not like that,”

King was quiet for a moment before slowly turning to look at him “What were the….other Collectors like?”

“Pshh, boring,” the Collector flopped back on the rock and held up a hand, on the ground a mound of snow rose up in the shape of a tall, cloaked figure, wagging its finger in time with the Collector waving their hand “To be a Collector is a privilege and a duty, stop this foolishness and take your status seriously, blah blah blah,” 

Their hand fell back to their side, the snow figure collapsing into a shapeless pile on the ground “I wasn’t really alone when they were still around, but it felt a lot like it,”

King let out a weak chuckle, but a more happy sounding one now “Heh, you can be surrounded by people and still be lonely,”

The Collector blinked “Hey…yeah, that’s right,”

“Hey Collector…were you there when the Collectors and the Titans started…fighting?”

They froze, going completely still on the snowy rock “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Ok…” King said slowly “But that’s when my dad locked you up, right?”

The Collector sat up and folded their legs underneath them “Yeah, he snuck up on me and trapped me when I wasn’t looking, he was all ‘A pup has no place in war’ but then stuck me in his skull until Philip found me, and Philip was almost as bad as being alone,”

King didn’t say anything for a long time, the two of them sitting on the boulder while snow fell silently all around them. 

“I just wish…” King’s voice was tight and small “I wish I could have known my dad, or met some of the other Titans, and that I wasn’t the last–” choked off, hugging himself and burying his skull into his knees.

The Collector felt their jaw drop open, chilled to the bone in a way that had nothing to do with the snow. Before they knew what they were doing the Collector found themselves stretching out their arms and leaning towards King, only remembering to stop at the last second.

Friends didn’t just grab each other, they needed to ask nicely.

“Hey King, is it ok if I hug you?”

“Oh– uh, sure,”

The Collector pulled King onto their lap and held him close, fur tickling his arms and chin brushing against the top of his skull. The silence stretched out longer, the Collector wracking their brain for the right words, before they finally spoke.

“I’m…sorry about the Titans, I…wish I could change what happened to them. But I promise I’ll always be here for you and you’ll never be alone ever again,”

“Y– yeah, right,”

“Yeah!” the Collector felt a smile spread across their face “I promise, even when we’re both grown-ups a hundred thousand years from now, we’ll still be playing and making snow-demons together!”

King went stiff for a second, then slowly leaned back into the Collector’s hug “I’d…I’d like that,” 

Satisfied that he’d successfully cheered his friend up, the Collector nuzzled his chin on the top of King’s skull “Yep, the two of us are gonna be best friends forever,” he held up a hand and lifted his finger “Pinky swear,”

After a few seconds King lifted his own paw, extending his smallest claw to touch their pinky.

The Collector grinned, wrapping his pinky around King’s while giving him a squeeze with his other arm “Don’t worry, neither of us is gonna be lonely every again,”

The Collector jerked awake, the room filling with bright lights. They snapped their head upright, jerking when they saw that two humans were already in the brightly lit room, fiddling with the control panel.

Their already galloping heartbeat sped up even further, their entire body starting to shake. 

Not now, not so soon, they didn’t even get any time to rest–

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe the humans were only going to drain them a little today. Maybe they were just doing ‘Maintenance work’ right now and weren’t going to drain them at all.

Trembling dying down but not going away completely, the Collector sat fully upright and turned to face the humans, listening closely to every word.

“--still can’t believe that the intel came from Hopkins of all people, for crying out loud the man’s a certified member of the flat earth society,”

“Hey a broken clock is still right twice a day, I’m just disappointed that the specimen got away,”

“Don’t worry, the entire city is on lockdown, it’s only a matter of time before the Security team tracks it down,”

The Collector felt their insides twisting in on themselves even while their heartbeat kept booming in their ears. None of what the humans were saying made any kind of sense? Were they doing something new? Or were they talking about something that had nothing to do with the bubble and the machines? Whatever it was they didn't dare drop their guard for a second. Keeping all of their focus on the humans.

The humans kept talking about nonsense while flipping switches and pressing buttons on the control panels. A sharp whine escaped their throat when they heard the machine above them hum to life.

“This is a pretty significant jump in percentage, are you sure about this?”

The Collector snapped his head up at the sound of the familiar word.

“Positive,” the other human spoke up “The specimen shows no sign of their baseline dropping and the Lamp has proven to be remarkably resilient. If we do a few runs at eighty five percent this morning we’ll be able to fully charge all the batteries for your team’s Warp Gate prototype before noon, and still have time for a cool off before the afternoon testing,”

The Collector’s heart stopped, their entire body turning cold.

…..eighty….five….

Before he knew what he was doing he was scrambling to  the edge of the bubble towards the humans, banging on the glass with both fists “N– no, please!”

The humans didn’t even look up from the control panels. Like they didn’t even see him, didn’t hear him–

No one heard him, no one saw him, it was like he didn’t even exist.

The Collector pounded on the side of the bubble, desperate to get the humans’ attention. But deep down he knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter what they said or did the humans acted like he wasn’t even there. But he had to try, sixty percent was so bad already he couldn’t do eighty he just couldn’t! Had to do something, try to get them to stop, maybe, just maybe, this time– 

“Please please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want!” their voice hitched with a hiccup, eyes stinging “Magic or spells or anything! Just please do– don’t–”

“Alright let’s give it a shot,”

The hum turned into a rumble, the Collector’s heartbeat booming in their ears, entire body quivering so badly they could barely move.

“Please!” he banged his fists against the glass “P– please a– a– at least do a lower percent! Just please don’t–”

The humans just stood there, uncaring as always, one was still focused on tinkering with the control panel while the other held a notebook with a pen at the ready while watching the bubble, the only thing on their face cool curiosity.

You can be surrounded by people and still be lonely

“I’m right here!” they screamed, banging both fists on the glass in an explosion of red sparks “J– just see me! Hear me!” they choked off with a cry, sinking to his knees, tears breaking free and rolling down their cheeks “P– please…”

The humans didn’t react, they never did. 

His begging choked off into a sob, slumping against the side of the bubble and sliding to the floor, all the fight leaving his body, sobbing in a crumpled heap on the floor even as the rumbling grew louder.

It didn’t matter how much he screamed and shouted and cried, nothing ever changed, no one listened. 

No one cared.

The rumble broke into a deafening roar, a tsunami of searing pain crashing into him, stretching his sobs into a scream.

[garliclicker]

My introduction

Hello, my name is Garliclicker and I live in the UK. However I'm of Polish blood, born and raised there. I want to write a few words as an introduction to me and my blog...

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As a little girl, I never would've expected to move around a lot, especially from country to country, I never would've thought I would be able to speak another language fluently nor go to a new school where I would have to use it on a daily basis. However finding friends which I could share my hobbies with was even more unexpected. My life has been completely flipped upside down in the span of a few months to a point where I cannot comprehend what it could've been if I haven't left Poland.

I moved to the UK during my school holidays of 2018, and at first I had been inclined to believe that this trip out of my home country was merely to explore the world, take a break from the exhausting atmosphere of a bustling city that Krakow is and catch up with family, yet this assumption proved to be naïve under the circumstances which we left at; in a massive rush, packing the most important things and saying goodbye to the family back in Poland. Knowing this, imagine my surprise when I was told we wouldn't be returning home and on top of that, I would have to go to a new school here without even knowing the language. From that day on England would become home for the unforeseeable future. I cried for days on end, I was terrified of the big and complex world that opened up before me, and rightfully so as I was so young and innocent. A world full off endless possibilities and major opportunities.

School and literature is a massive part of my life, it played a very significant role in shaping my opinions, dreams and aspirations when I was growing up and now continues to give me hopes for the future. It has been a 'stable rock' in the storm that engulfs my life, an anchor holding my ship down in a deep and dark ocean. I fully comprehend that my move is a great privilege which many people wish they had however it hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows.

I constantly struggle with longing for a home regardless of whether I have a house or not. The emotion of yearning for as familiar building is engraved deep in my heart, leaving a squeezing, wrenching, grasping pang in my heart whenever brought up. I never truly had a safe place to manifest myself as a person, a place I could call home, a place which I don't have to worry about vanishing in a press of a button. All of this greatly influenced the person who I am today and how I react to stimuli around me.

I also have to deal with the isolation from my peers and co-workers because I don't fit it and never have. My 'abnormality' makes it difficult for me to interact with those around me as their judgement and lack of open mind shakes me to the core. Our customs differ drastically and I have little similarities with them so this is where my blog comes in to play. I am very optimistic in finding some friends or just like-minded individuals who share my hobbies, views or past experiences.

My family also told me to start one since I've always wanted to do a thing like this :D

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Thank you so much for reading till the end if you did, and if not, no worries I understand this post is massive and won't pique everyone's interests. Have a great day and I hope to see you on my blog soon!

Garlicked this. <333

[wahlpaper]

If You Come Softly Review

If You Come Softly by Jacqueline Woodson

CW: Death, Child Death, Police Shooting, Gun Violence, Racism, Discussion of Cheating, Discussion of Divorce, Trauma from Child Abandonment, Discussion of Child Abandonment, Tension Between Parents and Children, Discussion of Homophobia, Anxiety, Grief

4.5/5

This is the sort of book that schools should be including in their English curriculums. I would assign it to Middle or High School students. Somehow this book that should be considered a classic has gone under the radar. If You Come Softly by Jacqueline Woodson was published in 1998, but it is still very relevant today. It discusses race, religion, divorce, interracial relationships, difficult family relationships, and more. The book is poetic, approachable, and serious. I'm unsure how I've managed to go over 20 years without previously discovering it.

Based in Manhattan and Brooklyn, New York, this novella is about Ellie and 'Miah, two teens that are inexplicably drawn to each other. After a meet-cute in the halls of their prep-school, neither one can stop thinking of the other. At first they worry if they should be together because he's black and she's Jewish, but as months go by, they change each other's worlds forever.

Woodson is a black queer woman, a poetess, a mother, and a writer with many works under her belt. She is not Jewish, however. While I loved the choice for Ellie to be Jewish, her representation felt surface-level. She has a Star of David necklace, her hair is the stereotypical dark curls of white Jewish people, and holidays like Yom Kippur are mentioned, but I didn't get a good grasp on Ellie's relationship to her Judaism. Woodson did not negatively portray the religion nor did she include anything harmful, but I do wish she had done more with it.

The book is told in chapters that alternate between Ellie's and 'Miah's points of view. This is one of the things that makes the book into the should-be-classic that it is. Both kids have gone through a lot in their lives and are very rich (literally and figuratively) characters. 'Miah is the son of two successful artists, he's traveled the world, he's also witnessed his parents getting divorced, and he suffered from the death of his grandmother. Ellie comes from a large family and lives near Central Park, but she's been abandoned by her mother more than once and she rarely sees the rest of her family. Together 'Miah and Ellie face racism and what it can do to the love they share.

Anyone can likely guess the ending within the first few pages of the book, but I'm not going to spoil it, just in case. As I said before, this book is still very relevant today. There's light and dark to it. The reader will likely find themself pulled into the love story of 'Miah and Ellie and then wishing desperately for more time with the two of them. Despite my usual aversion to meet-cutes for not being realistic, this story feels very real and raw throughout. It doesn't shy away from trauma, the realities of racism and white privilege, or complicated family dynamics.

If you have never read or heard of this book, please put it on your list. It's short, powerful, and beautifully written. If you audiobook it, you may get a Forward by Woodson too. Have your tissues ready and give this a go. The only thing you'll regret is how little we've moved forward in society.

[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!!

[donald4spiderman]

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

-

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

-

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

-

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

[misschifuyu]

To choose a lover

requested here

characters: ran haitani + rindou haitani

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Giggles and whispering comments were passed around, giddiness present in the voices that spoke out just a few metres away from you.

As much as you tried to focus on the tiresome work that was splayed out on the piece of paper before you, it was completely futile to drown the girls out.

It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about. The school you were all under had the privilege - if one could even consider it as such - to hold two infamous students.

The Haitani brothers.

Whilst the eldest was in his final year, the younger still had another year under this roof until he followed in his brother's footsteps.

But there was really nothing to dislike about going to class when one had a literal fan group who's main topic was always them.

There were girls who preferred Ran, with his signature braids that they always wished they could undo for him; and others that would always fawn over Rindou's cocky ways and stubbornness, trying to catch his attention wherever he went.

The current conversation, however, wasn't just fixed on talking about their aspects.

Far from it. Sending each other questionable looks and making fun of those on the other side of the opinion, they were discussing who, out of the two brothers, was better.

Those on Ran's side had the advantage of saying that he was older, therefore more responsible and willing to take care of anyone.

Sure.

He would make the perfect husband, some were proclaiming. But...the youngest would always want to show that he is the strongest, the more dependable one, as a result of the inferiority that had always hung with him since they were young.

It wasn't that he was, he just hadn't pushed himself to be known as much as his brother had done all those years back.

Needless to say, it was an argument that would never see an end. At least not until the two left the school behind and continued up to wherever the future would take them.

It was amusing, from your point of view, to hear all of these discussions. For years now you had known the two, as close friends who had grown up on the same street, so you knew everything that there was to them, right down to what they actually did when they said they were studying.

Definitely something that the girls would be pushed back by if they ever found out.

But, if it really came down to it, you probably wouldn't be able to pick one out of the pack that they came in, either.

They both had their merits and faults, and, truth be told, neither of the two were that much of a pleasure to be around with, as much as their fans would beg to differ.

One thing was for sure, though. It had come into the light when the three of you had been hanging out one afternoon, without much else to do.

You had asked the youngest about what he thought about his notorious lower level when it came to comparing him with his brother.

It had simply been a spur of the moment, and you hadn't expected him to actually give a sorrowful response.

He was well aware that he was viewed as the weaker brother of the two, and as much as he'd try to prove otherwise, it had always been something that would eat away at him.

Naturally, both you and Ran had jumped to convince him that he was far from a weak person.

The fact that he was viewed as such meant nothing at all when it came down to the reality of what he was, and that there was no point in even listening to those ignorant - and frankly, irrelevant - opinions about himself.

At the end of the day, although you would never openly admit it near the oblivious fangirls, you held a considerable amount of affection towards the two of them.

Of course, they had their odd moments in which you only wished to hit them around the head with Ran's metal bar; but, all in all, they would always be your childhood friends.

So choosing between them was simply out of the question.

Both of them held an equal importance to you, so when a peculiar feeling started growing for one of them, you quickly averted it so it would be felt for the two, whatever it were to be.

They were two peas in a pod, and you weren't about to change this because of a measly crush.

However, the thought would only bug you more whenever you were all together. Such as the current situation, sat right between the two of them on the comfort of their couch.

Before even coming over, you had mentally ordered yourself to disregard the ridiculous thoughts that had flooded your mind.

The girls back at school hadn't help with the problem one bit, if anything they worsened the conflictive feelings; and now you were to spend the afternoon with the two.

One could only think that all odds were against them in such situations.

Head resting on Ran's shoulder, legs atop Rindou's, your eyes were fixed onto the screen before you. The reasoning behind spending the afternoon together was the airing of your favourite show.

However, you were now racking your brains over what you were supposed to do after the series ended. Watching a movie was the prime option, but you figured they would want to move from the couch and do something else.

And the two were very talkative, so you would have to, inevitably, push everything in your mind aside to prevent from even giving the smallest hint surrounding your thoughts.

Your stiffness didn't go unnoticed, and, soon enough, you felt a hand on your leg, startling you in an instant.

"What the hell is up with you today, Y/N?"

Rindou had lost all attention for what was playing on the screen, and it looked to be as though he had for a bit now. This meant he had felt your change of attitude well before he had actually asked about it.

"What? No, nothing...why?"

Knitting his eyebrows together, the blond looked over at you with a disbelieving stare. By now, you were sure Ran had shifted his interest towards the two of you.

"You've been all skittish since you got here. You got something important on your mind or what?"

Geez.

"No...I've just been thinking about something stupid, that's all. Don't worry about it, now let me watch th-"

"That being?"

Now you were cornered. From behind you, having turned to look at Rindou, a voice spoke out the question. In slight panic, you managed to come up with another way around it.

"Well...that, let's say, if I had to choose one out of the two of you, I wouldn't know who I'd pick. It's a silly question one of my friends asked today, that's all"

God bless the fan girls. You were sure to never judge them internally again, because they might have just saved your skin in the nick of time.

Your nerves calmed down as you heard Rindou chuckle at the concern, and you figured he'd just brush it off as another one of your peculiar inquiries.

However, as he fully turned towards you, it was clear that he wasn't about to let this go unfazed.

"Well, you can't just leave us like that without an answer. Go on then, if it was a life or death situation, who would it be?"

"Rindou...you know I'd get rid of both of you if I could"

You all laughed at your words, stirring the conversation into an area that you were certain you could get a hold of.

Each one of you was just as ridiculous as the next one, so it wasn't hard to divert difficult topics.

If only the youngest wasn't so damn pushy.

"On a real note, there's gotta be one of us that you like just a little more, Y/N"

Upon knowing that perhaps you had driven yourself into a dead end, you started to fumble with your fingers.

What the hell were you supposed to say? If you picked one, the other was surely to get the wrong idea.

"Um..."

A slight shift behind you made you turn your head, catching Ran just a little too close for comfort to your face. Great, just what you needed.

After a few, nerve racking, seconds in silence, it was the eldest of the two that decided to break the ice. You were all just wasting time there, after all.

"Listen...since my brother seems incapable of forming a decent sentence, what we've been trying to get at is which one you'd choose, because we've both liked you for some time now and we kinda need to know who you'd go out with"

Well.

Certainly an unexpected turn to your seemingly uneventful afternoon. It appeared that you weren't the only one struggling with the damned feeling that was a crush, but you hadn't gambled that it would be both of them...and for the same person.

You couldn't choose.

In the same way that you had to waver the feeling of more than just friendship between the two of them, there was no way you could pick one now.

It would be unfair for the other, especially since you would only be lying to yourself for saying that you felt nothing for the half that was left aside.

There was only one way out of this, unless you wanted to shatter the relationship you had built between them for the past years.

"I...both of you. I can't leave one of you out when I, well, like both of you"

A huge weight was lifted from your body the moment the brothers exchanged a look, followed by an agreeing nod. Far from the catastrophe you had gambled with, that much was sure.

As Ran leaned his head on your shoulder, Rindou gave you a bright smile, one that not everyone had the chance to say that they've seen.

"Wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

No. What was going to be hard was having not one Haitani by your side, but two, as a partner. Sure enough, you were really going to know what their poor mother had to put up with now.

[tsunderedoctor]

Hey purple, I’m baaaack!

So I’m having a pretty shitty day. Yesterday, my dad told me to “be considerate” after I left the refrigerator door open for 2 seconds just to refill my water bottle. Normally, I just let their words fly over my head bc that’s the only way I’ve survived so long living with them. Although, this time it really hurt me bc him and my mom do it constantly, and sometimes even I have to close the door behind them. I was tired and I already had a argument with my mom just moments before I didn’t feel like getting in with him at that moment.

I thought the hurt feeling would’ve gone away by now, but it’s still festering in my mind. I thought back to all the time where I was practically the only considerate one in the family. To the point where I’m basically a people pleaser so to be told to “be considerate” really irked me and almost made me cry from frustration. My parents still have this view of me as some privileged women who doesn’t know the hardship of life, and it really annoys me.

So I was hoping you could do an emergency request for me with Marco, Sanji, and Shanks with a s/o who is normally upbeat just getting more short-tempered before breaking down and being comforted by them? It’s ok if you can’t and I’m sure I’ll get over this, it’s not the worst thing they’ve said to me so I’ll live. It doesn’t help that my birthday is this Sunday though.

I wish you a happy holidays and a joyful day/night!

I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know apologies don't make it go away, but do know I feel your pain and I'm here for you. I hope things start working better and you are able to leave that toxic environment.❤️❤️

Marco the Phoenix

The two of you sat in silence, the stress of losing your former captain getting the best of you. Earlier you had snapped at one of the new recruits, they didn’t mean to set you off, only mentioning the older man who had died protecting those he loved. You weren’t ready to accept his death so early. 

Marco had pulled you away, giving the newbie a smile that it was fine, both knew they didn’t mean any harm, you were just upset. Now you both stood in his office, him waiting patiently for you to talk as you stared stubbornly at the ground. 

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice cracked in the silent room, your glare was enough to make the floor shrivel if it could. Marco only nodded, understanding how you felt. Feeling the waves of your emotions finally come undone, you ran over to the man, hugging him tightly, the tears finally falling.

His arms were quick to wrap around your shaking form, he stood quietly, giving you the chance to cry out how you felt. He had taken over the role as captain for now, and as captain he would let his crew grieve the death of their beloved father figure. He would be the rock you all need right now, no matter what. “It’s okay, no one will die again on my watch.”

Vinsmoke Sanji

The blond was arguing with the green haired man once again, though it didn’t usually bother you, today it seemed to leave you on edge. Snapping at the two men to knock it off, Zoro only grumbled, trying to go back to sleep as your blond lover looked heart broken over you yelling at him.

“Y/N-swan...” Running over to you, he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, not wanting to be separated from you, like a lost dog who imprinted on it’s new owner.

Sighing, you petted his head softly, the look on your face was enough to let the man know you were upset. You hadn’t meant to yell at him, sending him a soft sorry, he only shook his head, more worried about your wellbeing than you yelling at him. “What’s wrong?” 

Shaking your head, even you didn’t understand the need to cry in the moment. Pulling you to him, the position had changed as you held on to him. A hand quickly going to your head as he whispered words of comfort to you. “It’s okay, I’m here with you.”

"Red Hair" Shanks

Taking a swig of the beer in your hand, your captain and lover gave you a worried look. You had been drinking more than usual and the man didn’t know the reason why. When he had asked, you told him not to worry about it. He had blinked and you had bit your tongue to fight off apologizing, you were annoyed with him enough, you didn’t want to say sorry now.

Eventually he took the bottle from you, your drunk hiccups echoing in the now quiet room, the rest of the crew left, feeling the tension between the two of you. “What’s wrong?”

“You just had to go and be an Emperor, don’t you care about what the others think? About how they feel?” Glaring at the empty space in front of you, you refused to face the man as he sighed, somehow knowing this talk would come. It was quiet for a long pause, both parties stubborn to give in, both thinking they were right. 

“I won’t leave you, I won’t die, believe in me.” His usual chipper voice now held a serious tone as he grabbed your hand, holding it in his own. Feeling some tears fall, you wiped your face as he pulled you off your stool into his lap, letting out another drunk hiccup the man only chuckled, you can barely hear him calling you his baby before your eyes closed, head comfortable in his chest.

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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

My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

-------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

--------------------------------------------------------

I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

[donutloverxo]

Pinky promise

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - Tis part of my donut series which is linked in masterlist. You can just read it for the smut tho, smut usually doesn’t have anything to do with plot🥴🥴

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve yells at you but promises not do it again. But then he had to teach you a lesson too...

Warnings - 18+ONLY, smut(m/f), some assplay, spanking, daddy kink, brat tamer Steve, angst, references to stalking, more to come in future chapters.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 4.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

He traced the bridge of your nose with his finger, ever so lightly, his touch barely there so as not to wake you from your peaceful slumber. He smiled at the way you cutely scrunched up your nose when he withdrew his finger.

With your hand across his chest, both your legs over his thighs - you were pretty much sleeping on top of him - clinging to him like a koala. Not that he’d complain. He couldn’t be happier.

Most nights he can barely sleep for two hours, if that wasn’t interrupted by his consistent nightmares - but with you everything felt so serene. He hoped to make you feel the same way.

“No more kale,” you murmured in your sleep.

He frowned, what the hell were you dreaming about?

After your first time together he had given you a nice bath, washed your hair. His bathtub was too small to fit both of you so he simply helped wash you up and then help you into his t-shirt. He never knew he would find his clothes so sexy on you. He wondered how big the baths in the tower’s apartments were. Surely they could fit the both of you. Maybe then he could bathe with you and more...

That was maybe the only flaw you had. How insatiable you manage to make him without even trying. Lathering up your soft skin had done a number on him, especially when his hand drifted between your legs, cleaning you up thoroughly. You were pretty out of it to know what was going on.

Even now, he had woken up with an achingly hard erection. What with snuggling your plump ass that was persistent on grinding against his crotch, for some reason. He decided to ignore it - maybe take care of it later in the shower.

He needed to make you some breakfast first and get you replenished and strong. Then if you’re up for it, maybe he can have his fun.

After struggling to get out of your snuggly trap without waking you he made his way over to the kitchen. Beating up the batter for waffles, some fresh fruit, juice and a PB and J. He put all of it on a tray, wishing he had a rose or two to make it easy on the eyes, he made his way over to you.

Caressing your face, placing a few loud kisses on your cheek as you whined, “Wake up, darling,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s Saturday,” you pushed him away, turning on your side and away from him.

“I know but I have to go to work. I’d like to spend some time with you, wouldn’t you? It’s your first time sleeping over I want us to have breakfast together,” he nuzzled the crook of your neck.

You kicked your blanket away, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light, “Okay,” you slurred, “but you should know I’m not a morning person.”

“Noted,” he smiled, hugging your back closer to him.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt it against your butt cheeks. There was no mistaking it, “Steve, are you... hard?” you asked in a low voice. You wiggled your butt so you could be sure - yup, that’s his monster cock awake again, alright.

He hummed, “It’s just what you do to me, princess.” He snaked a hand up, fondling your soft flesh of your breast with it. Squeezing your hard bud through his t-shirt.

“Does... it hurt? I know it’s a weird question but I’m just curious...” you trailed off.

“Sometimes it’s just annoying and sometimes it’s painful. Like right now,” he husked in your ear, holding onto your hip and rutting up in your ass. His palm making it’s way between your legs, tracing patterns on your inner thigh.

“Oh. Then maybe you should do something about it. I don’t want you be in pain,” you squirmed in his hold. You could still feel the ache of last night’s activities in your core but the idea of going at it again was just as appealing to you.

“Yeah? You want it?” he let his fingers dip in your folds, “You’re fucking drenched, princess,” he groaned.

You gasped. It’s not everyday you hear Captain America spouting such profanities.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to do a thing,” he promised, pushing you on your stomach he took his shirt off of you. Shoving a pillow under your hips to give him access and let you relax at the same time. “You were so good last night, doll. Can you be good now? For me?”

You nodded your head, your cheek pressed to the soft pillow. You didn’t really know what ‘being good' entailed. You did know that if he wanted to slap you and have you thank him for it, you’d probably do it. Really you would do anything to please him.

You jerked as you felt the tip of his tongue nudge at your entrance. Dipping inside your heat - so warm and velvety - and then pulling out to lick a stripe up your slit.

“You’ve got a nice ass, sweetheart, fits in my hand perfectly,” he praised, squeezing your ass and then kneeling behind you.

He touched the column of your spin, pressing on the middle of your back to arch you up to him, your wide hips and butt presented so perfectly to him. It was like a dream come true. There was no way he could resist.

Pulling your cheeks apart, he admired your holes, before prodding at your second hole and tracing it with his tongue.

You squealed at that. “St - Steve, what are you doing?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

“You don’t like it, doll?” he asked, licking at it again, “If you don’t just say so. I’ll stop.” he stated. Which wasn’t a lie, he probably should’ve asked you before doing it in the first place.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t like it... it’s just so dirty but I think in a good way,” you shove your face back in your pillow.

He chuckled, maybe that was why he loved the idea of it so much as well. It was so debauched - something he only got to share with you. To the world he maybe pure and pious but he won’t hesitate to eat his girl’s ass any chance he gets.

“I know, doll. It’s like you stir up something dark in me,” he gritted, pressing his thumb inside your tight pluckered hole, “I knew the moment I met you, you were nothing but trouble,” He groaned when he felt you clenched around his thumb.

You jerked forward at the unusual fullness. Gasping incredulously, “Wh - I’m trouble?! You’re the one with your finger buried up my ass. But sure! I’m the one corrupting America’s son,” you yelped when you he delivered a harsh slap on your butt. “Jesus! Warn a girl!” you heaved as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Being so exposed to him and letting him have his way with you - most of it liking it WAY more than you should have should make you feel at least a modicum of shame but it didn’t.

He shushed you, “Didn’t you promise to be good?”

“I promised no such thing!”

He shook his head, there was no point in making you behave, not that he truly wanted you to be good anyway. Pulling his thumb out of your ass, he slathered some lube on your slippery folds, massaging it on your bundle of nerves.

You whimpered into the pillow, “Do we even need it anymore?”

“Yes, we do,” he held your hips in a firm grip, lining himself up to your cunt, “You’re too small to take me without it,” he smirked as he pushed into your warm heat.

You would never understand how much he loved the fact that you were smaller than him. He could fight off anyone who dared to threaten you or hurt you, he had to bend a significant amount to kiss you, he could easily haul you up, manhandle you - do whatever he wants to you. Not that he’d ever take advantage of his strength - but these were some privileges he would never have without the serum.

He bend over you, his chest to your back, pulling you closer to him by circling a hand around your soft stomach. Driving his hips back before harshly snapping them forward. He nuzzled the crook of your neck, “How does that feel? Hm?” He set a fast pace, thrusting into you with much more vigor than the previous night. Something about doing it from behind made it all the more primal and needy.

“So good,” you choked. Your fingers digging into his forearms as you felt his tip hit your spongy spot, making your vision blurry and mind hazy.

He knelt above you again, so he could look at your ass. Jiggling from the force of his thrusts. His hand ached to spank it again - but he knew he shouldn’t. Not before talking to you about it. He compromised on fondling it with his palm as he felt you clench around his length.

“You close, doll?”

“Yeah,” you murmured as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your whole body going taut as pleasure took over you.

Your hips collapsed back on the bed - not really having enough energy to hold yourself up anymore.

He pulled out just when he was about to come, jerking his cock with his hand till spurts of his spend landed on your ass and back.

He used the shirt you were wearing to clean to you up, setting the tray of breakfast before you and giving your forehead a quick kiss.

You munched on a slice of apple, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. causing him to raise his brow at you. “It’s just I’m completely naked -having breakfast in bed. Never imagined I’d get so lucky.” you gushed, making heart eyes at him.

“I’m the lucky one,” he smiled, booping your nose, “I have to get going though.”

“I thought you wanted to have breakfast together?” you pouted, hoping that would make him stay as he rummaged through his closet, setting his clothes out. Giving you a nice view of his bubble butt. It’s thicker than mine.

He looked at you over his shoulder, “I already had my breakfast, doll,” he winked.

Your jaw dropped as you closed your mouth and then opened it again, gaping like a goddamn fish as you tried to think of something to say.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, making his way to the shower, “I’m running late since you distracted me.”

“Sure I distracted you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve greeted him, putting a hand over his shoulder to get his attention.

“What the fuck?” he helped, spilling his coffee all over his keyboard. He turned around in his chair, giving Steve a steely glare, “What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Sure ambushing Tony in his lab may not be his greatest idea but - “I need a favor.”

“It’s always about what people need from me,” the billionaire shook his head despondently, trying to clean his soiled workspace with some napkins, “Came to ask for sex tips, have you?”

“What?!” Steve blurted out, his eyes widening.

Did Natasha go around telling everyone about their private conversation? If so he’ll never hear the end of it. He was on the receiving end of almost all of Tony’s jabs. Why was he coming to him for such an important favor anyway...

“Too bad for you, I don’t give away my trade secrets.” He shrugged.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breathe, he can do this, it’s for his girl.

“Fine, I’ll tell you some of them. A woman has eight erogenous zones - ”

Right, this was just Tony being Tony. Nat would never to that to him.

“Jesus, Tony! I don’t need sex advice from you!” He was well acquainted with your erogenous zones now, even though you’ve only been together a couple of times. He could make you come without even touching you.

“Really?” Tony raised a brow, eyeing him up and down, “It’s weird that you have a life outside of the Avengers in the first place.”

“Right. You probably think I go to sleep in the cap suit,” Steve retorted, his lips pressed in a flat line. To most people there was no distinction between cap and him.

“Actually, I did,” he grinned, “What did you want anyway?”

“Well... I need you to promise to keep this between us,” Even if he and Tony had somewhat of a ‘complicated’ friendship, there was no one he could trust with this,

He nodded, “Cross my heart,” doing so over his chest.

“Is there anyway you can hack into a CCTV camera?” Steve asked, giving him your address. There was only one outside of your building, it wasn't much but it was all he had to work with.

“Should be easy enough,” he said, hitting the keys of his keyboard, “Looks like their footage expires in a month or so.”

“That’s okay, I only need to see this past week,” he pulled up a chair, taking a seat beside him.

“Are we stalking Miss unicorn? Is she cheating on you?!” he gasped. “If you get cheated on then the rest of us don’t have any hope.”

“No... she thinks she’s being stalked. And I believe her.”

“She’s awfully lucky to have an Avenger for a boyfriend then.... are you sure you want to go through over two hundred hours of it? Just get an intern to do it,” he pressed play, fast forwarding it over four times.

“I can’t trust anyone else with this. Besides I’ll know what to look for,” The serum also gifted him keen eyes. Even if the the footage was blurry and pixelated he could figure out a lot by just looking at body language and such. “You don’t have to watch it with me.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I have nothing else to do,” he drawled, “JARVIS, cancel all my appointments. We’re stalking Steve’s girlfriend. I’ll go get the popcorn.”

It was not easy to spend the entire weekend sitting in a chair watching basically nothing with Tony, but Steve managed to just tune him out. He seemed to get excited, to poke fun, every time Steve dropped you off at your doorstep, always leaving with a thorough goodbye kiss.

Think of the children!

All this PDA is not good for you squeaky clean image, Cap. You’ve been corrupted by the Gen Z and the millennials.

“Wait, stop right there,” Steve asked upon spotting an electrician, inconspicuous at first sight...

“It’s just the cable guy.”

“He’s carrying a gun, see,” he pointed at the screen.

Tony scrunched up his nose, “No, he’s not. You can barely see his face.”

“Is there a way to get a clearer image of his face?”

“No. This isn’t a movie. You can always interrogate her neighbors,” he suggested.

“I don’t know about that. Let’s keep that as a plan B.”

They didn’t really find anything else of use. He cracked his neck, ready to home to you after a long day. Grateful that he had someone to go home to. He thanked Tony while putting on his jacket.

“Don’t thank me. Just remember that you owe me forever.”

“That’s fair I guess...” he dusted off the wrinkles in his pants.

“So does she like live with you now? Haven’t you only been dating for two months? I’ve never even had a relationship that long.”

“Well, I’m not you.” And he didn’t appreciate other people snooping in his private life. He had no idea what he would do if his relationship went public. He decided not to worry about that for now. He needed to work on his first least.

Three weeks later

You huffed, your ankle twisting against the ground. You straightened your feet back up and willed yourself to keep walking. Just two more blocks. You can do this.

Today was not your day. Your boss had sent you all the way to Connecticut to do a delivery. Even though it wasn’t your job to do deliveries. Which meant you had to take the subway - which was over an hour late. You couldn’t even call Steve to let him know that you would be late because your phone just chose to stop working.

And then your heel broke... which meant you were dragging yourself back home all the way from the station.

You were ready to just go to sleep and maybe never wake up.

“Finally,” you grumbled, slamming the door behind you and ridding your feet of the uncomfortable strappy knock offs. “Oh, Steve, you wouldn’t believe the day I had,” you plumped down on the couch, laying back against the cushions.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You opened your eyes to see him standing tall in front of you. His hands folded over his chest and his jaw clenched as he glared at you.

“Huh?”

“It’s almost midnight,” he shook his head. “Did it occur to you to maybe call me and let me know that you were going to be late?”

“I - my phone just stopped working - ”

“Let me guess - you forgot to charge it again,” Your name rolled off his tongue, which meant something was wrong - he never said your name, he had over a million nicknames for you. “That’s not charming. That’s just careless and irresponsible of you. You’re an adult, start acting like it.”

“Fuck you.” The words escaped your mouth before you could ponder about it. Tears burning your eyes, but you held them back, you had never been afraid of being vulnerable in front of him. Right now, however, you needed to stand your ground.

A look of hurt crossed his face before it hardened again. “You can never take any sort of criticism - ”

“It just stopped working!” you yelled, interrupting him. “It’s old and yeah I don’t use it properly because I’m irresponsible, so it stopped. I didn’t even know what time it was.”

“I was worried about you,” his voice cracked. He rubbed his eyes. “I made so many calls. I called your mother - who didn’t even know who I was.” He gave you a sardonic chuckle. He was discussing marriage plans with you and you hadn’t even told your family about him.

“You know, Steve, if you want a responsible and mature girlfriend, you should go and get one. I’ll make it easier for you,” you stood up, bumping into him and heading towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he grabbed at your forearm, pulling you back.

“I’m leaving! I’ll go stay at my mothers,” you choked on a sob, your arms feebly trying to fight him off, “I don’t need you or your help! I’m sure plenty of mature women would love to be with Captain America.”

“Stop it! I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Your tears pulled at his heart strings. Making him regret his words.

“If you didn’t mean it then you shouldn’t have said it,” you spit. Finally gathering enough courage to look into his eyes, “I guess I know what you think of me now.” Your bottom lip quivering as you tried to push at his chest. But he was built like a rock, refusing to budge even a bit.

He grabbed your wrists, “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve used better words. But you can’t just pack up and leave whenever we have a fight.”

You scoffed, “Yes I can! Just watch me!”

“Yes, you can,” he sighed, pulling your head into his chest, “but you shouldn’t. Don’t you think your words hurt me too?” he asked. Nuzzling his nose in your hair, swaying you both side to side but you were still pushing at his chest and whimpering. “Just let me hold you for a while. I thought something bad had happened to you.”

Which seemed to quell your rage for the time being as you went limp in his arms. He hadn’t told you about the suspicious cable guy or how maybe you were being stalked. Either by SHIELD, someone out for revenge on him or an unwanted suitor of yours. It didn’t really matter. He didn’t want to worry you, maybe he should tell you to get you to take things more seriously.

“You really had me worried there,” he mumbled, “Do you forgive me?” Placing a kiss to your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “Nuh-uh.”

“What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?” he wanted to know.

You rubbed your tears and snot on his shirt - as a petty revenge, looking up at him with your swollen eyes and nose, “I read somewhere that the best way to ask for forgiveness is changed behavior.”

“That is true,” he nodded.

“Since you’ve never been that mean before - I can let it go for now. Only if you promise not to do it again.”

“Of course, sweet - ”

“I mean it. No yelling, cursing or meanness of any sort. I don’t care that you’re Captain America. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I promise.”

“You have to pink promise to seal it. A pink promise has higher esteem than a normal one,” you stated, holding your pinky up to him.

“Can I seal it with a kiss?” he suggested but then bit his tongue at the deadly glare you have him. “Okay then, I pinky promise,” he linked his pinky with yours, looking into your eyes, “I’ll never ever yell at you or curse at you. Or be mean ever again - the last thing I want to be is like my father.”

“What? You never told me that your dad - ”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, “Can I kiss you? Please?” he gave you his best puppy eyes.

“Nope,” you pushed him away. You can’t be too easy. He had to pay. “I’m tired, I had a long day. Im'a just go to bed,” you gave an exaggerated yawn.

You headed off to your shared bedroom again, but then before you knew it - in the blink of an eye - he hauled you over his knee as he sat back on the couch.

“Not so fast,” he tutted, stroking your clothed buttcheek. “Let’s not forget you were at fault too. You had me worried sick. I was imagining the worst things about you and I couldn’t get a hold of you. I’m never letting you out my sight again.”

You rubbed your forehead, dizzy from being spun so fast. Looking at him over your shoulder, “But what you did... or said was deliberate.”

“Maybe so. But you could've called me and let me know. I would’ve come to you and picked you up.” He pinched your butt as you yelped.

“I don’t remember your number!” You heaved. What was he up to? Why were you over his lap?

He shook his head. “Even you have to agree that is irresponsible. You’re supposed to be good at numbers, baby. Aren’t you an accountant? Think you can count to seven? You need to be taught a lesson.” He pulled the helm of your dress, exposing your Powerpuff girls panties to him.

The smug asshole. “Excuse me! Who are you to teach me a lesson?”

He snapped the elastic band against your hip, “These are cute.”

Your cheeks heated up and you tried to tell him off, flustered and exhausted you just give up. Pushing your cheek against the cushion. “Whatever,” you grumble.

“You’re such a brat you know that? You love making me worry when all want to do is protect you and keep you safe,” he pulled your panties down till they were tangled in your ankles, warming you up by stroking your naked cheeks. “I’m getting you a new phone. And you don’t need to work for someone who doesn’t appreciate you - I can take care of now,” He had always had a bad feeling about your eccentric boss, sending you away on such a short notice - you absolutely did not deserve to be treated like that. “How many do you think you deserve?”

Steve never associated spanking with sexiness or as anything erotic. He was supposed to be a gentleman. He shouldn’t have such dirty kinks.

Sure he likes a nice plump ass. Your ass to be more specific. He loved seeing it in tight yoga pants, snug jeans. Hell he even liked seeing it in dresses that don’t necessarily flaunt it. When he is forced to use his imagination.

He also liked seeing it in your cute pastel cotton panties. With stars or heart patterns. Or better yet, no panties.

Just a few days ago, he saw your ass perched up in your cute pink panties, as you were scrolling on your phone, leaning on the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help it, his hand moved before he could even register what was happening. He slapped your ass, the smack echoing in the room, your ass jiggling, and your small yelp, made him harder than hed ever been.

You looked so adorable when you tried to act like you didn’t like it. Though the musky scent of your weeping sex clearly said otherwise. He bent you over the counter and fucked you then and there to prove you wrong.

He never spanked you again. He didn’t get a chance to, until now...

You were pretty out of it, sleep taking over your tired eyes, maybe that’s why it just slipped out - “Whatever you want, daddy.”

“What?” he instantly stopped his ministrations, staring at the back of your head.

“What?” you asked. Your eyes widening , “Oh dear god, did I say that out loud?” You shut your eyes so tightly, refusing to ever look at him again.

You had only ever read about it in erotica or used the term in jest. Maybe part of you did feel that way about Steve but there was absolutely no way you’d ever admit it. You joked with your friends about how Steve was a ‘big daddy’ when you had told them you were dating Captain America. Because of his height and build and nurturing nature. They dubbed him ‘America’s daddy’.

“Yes, you did,” you could feel him smirking through the smugness dripping in his voice, “It’s ok, doll. I don’t get why you’re embarrassed, I can be your daddy. I think you deserve seven? For every hour you were late. You promised to be home by five pm.”

You didn’t say a single word, not really trusting yourself to speak at all. He pinched your butt again, demanding an answer. “Yes! Fine! Seven is okay I guess.”

“You are to count them and then thank me for them. Understood?”

“Just get on with it,” you would feel yourself getting wetter with anticipation, you squirmed in his hold, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction.

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll spank you till you can’t see straight. And now, just because of that it’s ten.” He slipped his hand between your legs. Smearing your arousal around your lips. You probably didn’t know about his enhanced sense of smell, letting him know whenever you were aroused. “What do you want the safe word to be? When you say it - we stop.”

“How about buttercream?” you suggested.

“Buttercream it is. Now get ready. Remember to count and - ”

“And thank you, yes I remember,” you rolled your eyes. Wondering if he’s ever going to actually go through with it or if he was all talk.

You yelped as soon as he landing the first blow, the burning sting and the loud smack that following causing your cheeks to heat up.

“One. Thank you...” you tried to catch your breathe, “daddy.”

His cock stirred at your new petname for him. He could sink into you right then and there but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He raised his hand again, delivering blow after blow to you, alternating between both your cheeks. Sneaking one small to your upper thigh as well - just because he could. He held back his strength, of course. He didn’t really want to hurt you, just teach you a lesson.

“Nine, holy fuck!” your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists tightly. Needing something to hold onto. “Th-thank you, daddy!” You added. Cursing yourself for almost forgetting.

He let his fingers wander down to your cunt again, dipping a finger in your heat, “You seemed to be enjoying this. Have you learned your lesson?”

You furiously nodded your head, “Yes! I’ll always tell you when I’m going to be late. I mean... as soon as I get a new phone.”

He snorted, “Don’t worry about that, princess,” Soothing a hand over your swollen skin, “Just one more. Think you can take it?” you nod again.

You whimpered and then moaned as he delivered the last slap to your right cheek. “Te - n,” you hiccupped, “Thank you...”

“You were so good, sweetheart,” he cooed. Setting you down on the couch, hovering over your back and peppering kisses to your ass, “but I’m far from done with you.”

You hummed as you heard the tell-tale sign of him unzipping his pants. “Gonna be a long night,” you giggled into the pillow.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[flr-house-husband-blog]

Female Led Relationship In Real Life

FLR explained, the woman has final say on all matters. The man accepts her wishes, her wants, and her punishments. This isn’t the FLR most men dream about in real life which is sexual in nature; I can promise in real life it is much different and more rewarding long term for both parties involved.

For us, yes housework is my responsibility and it started out with her lowering the normal standard that she kept up so that I could get down a routine. Overtime I’ve gotten better and worked longer in rooms and areas that did not meet her standards. I want to say higher, but they were only higher standards to me when we were vanilla. I see now the importance of daily, weekly, and monthly deep cleaning chores and tasks. They really do make the house ready for guests at a moments notice without worry and it really lifts a level of stress off of her which reflects back into us and our time together.

I’ve been timed and my daily chores I can do in 20 mins if I hustle. Normally it takes me an hour in between making her breakfast or getting ready for or after my work. Either way my “right” to ask permission to play video games or have screentime on my phone is once my chores are complete. The weekly tasks I’ve broken down into days to accomplish them easier (for myself), to not get behind, and make sure I meet her expectation of cleanliness.

My fav part of our FLR which has led to has been more love, time, and attention towards her is a phone rule. Dinner at home or out, regardless with friends I have to ask permission to use my phone. Needless to say no one bats an eye as they think it’s great we’re not on our phones. I like to check google reviews and see photos of different food options at a restaurant and it’s almost always a yes when I ask and then I put it away or it goes in her purse. I will say getting to that level of discipline isn’t easy.

In FLR I thrived with any new rules or expectations as soon as Goddess Amy figured out the best punishments that one changed my perspective and made me do risk/reward calculations before taking an action. What worked for her and didn’t cause her too much additional time away from what she enjoyed and was highly effective for me was corner time (30+ mins sometimes) and marking down in my shared chore app her grievances, which I too could see and were addressed with the paddle when she so decided. Unlike fantasy FLR there is nothing fun about having your pants around your ankles and being met with a firm paddle. She knows once I’m over ten that each and everyone will be remembered throughly. She has taken it a step further and makes me recite while I’m being paddled. Again not sexy but to make sure i know what I did and what I should do again.

Writing lines or the same thing over and over on paper takes a lot of time and she doesn’t except sloppy work. When that comes up I know I’m metaphorically fucked. It’s the equivalent of a cold shoulder when we were vanilla and I know a conversation is coming.

FLR isn’t all chores and sex. It’s a means to have a more loving and quality filled relationship. It’s non-standard but really does the trick for us. Of note when you’ve been met with consequences for falling short on expectations it really does change you behavior and moments vanilla you might want to give constructive feedback or argue a point of view. In FLR skip it and if you don’t like the point/topic/discussion try and bring it up at the end of the day or week, and if you really want ask if she wants feedback and if she says yes then maybe; otherwise wait until the end of the day or week.

In real-life FLR I can only give my perspective and maybe some of hers. For me I’d say the most important part is the man accepting she has the authority. Leadership isn’t all about being right, it’s about inspiring follow-ship naturally and accomplishing shared goals of the individuals under you and for the organization. Goddess Amy does that wonderfully and this is where you could say she understands my kinks (motivation) and pessimistic characteristics (frictions). She has a firm grasps on all things me and has goals for me, expectations for herself, our house, and our family. FLR works well for us because I accept and want her authority and she cares about all of the above to ensure each and everyday we move forward and improve. It’s not like the kink where things are expected to be absolutely perfect. She knows what I can handle and pushes the bubble little by little until it’s “perfect”, I look back and think wow what a difference I never thought this was possible.

Have you heard the phrase “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. If daddy ain’t happy don’t nobody care. “ That phrase sums up FLR. This ties in with communication and roles of FLR. She can easily say be ready we are going out and that means get in nice clothes and get everything ready to go or she can say she’s going out, which means I have the house to myself and if I’m lucky I’ll be given permission to watch TV or play games on my laptop. This ties in with staying on top of the routine she has set for me and other rules like no screentime without the chores being done. Most times I’m fortunate enough to get sceentime when I have the house to myself and sometimes it’s an opportunity for me to address a writing assignment she would like or an addtional chore. Rarely does it include me playing and sending pictures while she is out and about, but either way I’m always responsive and accept what she chooses as I know and believe it has a purpose. I just don’t sometimes fully understand it until later on down the road.

Real-life FLR the man only does what she wants and in ours she has retained meal prep for us and weekday dinners. The weekends I get to grill out and make her meals. Dishes are easy in our house. After a meal we clear the table, some things into rubber ware, some things rinsed in the sink and then into the dishwasher. We have a sign for clean/dirty and the dishwasher gets ran at night once full every couple of days and per my checklist is emptied or check daily.

A big benefit for her is me seeking ways to earn extra privileges ultimately by going out of my way to be on my best behavior, pampering her with love, surprises, and foot rubs. Some days she surprises me with the same to include paid massages and also breakfast in bed.

In public we appear vanilla, with the exception that I may secretly ask permission to have a soda or bend our diet plan a bit with a dessert. I’ve found asking before we go out with friends is better and also she has coded eye brows and looks which convey a silent approval or disapproval as I talk through what I might want when asked.

In addition to not meal prepping every meal since she loves cooking and helping us meet our fitness goals there are a few other things she retains control of. One is laundry, not because she loves it but because only she understands our walk in closet system for her stuff. Every morning I make sure everything is in the hamper and check the dryer- going through and pulling clothes tout of the dryer and separating out her dresses, tops, panties, etc in a way that makes it faster for her to put away herself, along with hanging and putting away all of my clothes neatly. Second the baby’s room there is a fancy rug which gets cleaned a certain way that’s off limits to me. I didn’t ask why and daily just make sure everything is clean and organized. Unlike fantasy FLR you won’t see me begging to do more chores, but you will see me finding areas which I add to my daily to keep off my monthly and deep clean routine to save myself time another day but just maintaining the area better. One example for this is dusting, yes the dreaded dusting. Once despised, I now prefer to address it per room per weekday versus all at once on the weekend. For me it’s less tedious when mixed in with picking up toys, vacuuming, and wiping down surfaces versus a whole hour of it another day.

To end this long discussion one thing that I like most about our FLR is despite me, the man not having final decision is that she gets my feedback 9 times out of 10 before making the final decision. I always feel heard and understood even when I don’t get what I wanted on most big topics, this isn’t the case with little chores or screentime expectations.

[jasontoddiefor]

nobody's keeping score

Ship: HideKane

Summary: In a world where ink stains the white papers of constitutions, damning the lives of ghouls, their existence is no secret or rumor, but a topic of heated debate, protests, and anonymous organ donations in shady alleys. No matter how bright the CCG appears in their white coats, their light cannot reach the dark tunnels where ghouls and sympathizers alike are plotting. And when Hide, after hours of sitting at his best friend’s hospital bed, sees him wake with one eye black and red, the difficult question is not how to get him help, but how to avoid him becoming the figurehead of a conflict threatening to turn into a bloody revolution.

AN: Notes: You ever just take a 4-year break from a fandom and return with spite fic because you remembered how much you hated canon? Yeah. This fanfic is my attempt at corralling the TG worldbuilding into something coherent that makes sense. I will keep some elements of canon, others I will throw out of the window straight away. This is utterly self-indulgent.

“And with the developments in synthetic meat production—”

Hide wanted to groan. They’d been discussing the same question for the last three hours of class and he was, frankly speaking, done with it. People were running out of arguments and circling back to topics that didn’t contribute anything to the conversation they were supposed to be having. From the way their lecturer was glaring at the latest speaker, Hide would say that she was also very done.

“Yoshimura, as stated before, we are not discussing possibilities for ghoul integration, but the mere premise of whether they even deserve the rights needed to legalize their status as citizens. The right of existence of an individual should not be dependent on what modifications would have to be made to accommodate them, but whether they deserve to live regardless.”

Hide had zoned out about an hour ago. His opinion on ghouls had always felt rather clinical, mathematically detached, despite Hide’s history. Maybe too much time had passed since he’d looked at the bloody remains of his father to really hammer home the fear-motivated rejection so many people fell to. Perhaps the CCG investigators, who had dragged him away from his father’s corpse, should have allowed him to get a little more traumatized before the kindness of his new parents had become enough to dull those painful memories.

Some ghouls were no different than brutal serial killers, and they had to be taken down, but the rest seemed to be getting by just fine. If a new legislation would make it even easier for them to go about their everyday lives, perhaps the number of violent ghoul attacks would go down as well. Hide was well aware that this was the view of a privileged person. Growing up in the 20th ward meant that you needn’t be scared of leaving your house when it was already dark. Kamii University prided itself on the fact that it could safely offer evening classes such as the one Hide was attending now. The same certainly couldn’t be said for the other wards. Any citizen between the 9th and 13th wards would probably advocate vocally for the extermination of ghouls. The 11th especially resembled a warzone even during the daylight. Ghoul sightings were nothing unusual there, and investigators’ mutilated bodies were displayed as trophies and warnings alike. Meanwhile, nobody had died in the 20th war for something like ten odd years. Sometimes it felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop, but most of the time, Hide didn’t even think about ghouls.

By the time class was finally over, Hide had taken only one or two more bullet points. They hadn’t really said anything of interest and it reflected in his writing. Usually, Hide would be sending rapid-fire texts to Kaneki now, but his friend was still on his date and Hide didn’t want to bother him. It had taken more than just a bit of teasing and probing to get Kaneki to ask that girl out and he wouldn’t self-sabotage his hard work.

It was good that Kaneki was connecting to people that weren’t just Hide.

And it would be awesome if Hide could do the same.

Codependence needed two people to work and Kaneki was definitely not the only one struggling with independence. Hide had yet to figure out how to let go of Kaneki when his relationship to the other boy had been the only stable thing in his world for the longest time. Nothing said mental health like latching onto an abused child to escape the stifling air of his brand-new foster fathers’ home.

The next time he visited his parents, he’d bring them some flowers to make up for how troublesome he’d been as a child.

Glancing at his phone again, Hide realized he had to hurry if he wanted to take the early bus home. He was just about to plug in his headphones when an unknown number flashed up on the display. Who would call him at this time? Hide was definitely someone who preferred texting. Even his parents knew better than to call unless it was serious. The only person he ever actually called was Kaneki, and that was only because his friend sometimes got so lost in a book, he forgot to text back or didn’t even hear the phone buzz. Hide contemplated picking up for another ring, then gave in and accepted. “Nagachika Hideyoshi speaking, who’s calling?”

“Hello, I am Tanaka Akako, a nurse of the Kanou General Hospital. You are Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact?”

The blood in Hide’s veins froze.

“Yes, I am. Has— has anything happened? Is Kaneki alright!?”

The nurse’s voice was so calm, steady, and pleasant as if this was a chat between friends. Somewhere Hide knew that it probably helped most people, but it just put him on edge. “Nagachika-san, your friend and another young woman were involved in an accident. Dr. Kanou is preparing him for surgery, but as his emergency contact, we have to discuss the possible options before we can proceed.”

Hide didn’t want to discuss any options. There shouldn’t be any besides Kaneki’s survival. Hide wanted to rush into the operation hall and hold Kaneki’s hand, wishing he could turn back time, tell his friend to remain at his side and consider that girl out of his league so he’d spent the evening with him and not getting sent to ER. This couldn’t be real; he was sick to his stomach.

“What are the options?” Hide asked, panic threatening to strangle him as he rushed to the street, trying to find a taxi to take him to Kanou General straightaway.

“Kaneki-san sustained serious injuries. Dr. Kanou is willing to transplant the deceased Kamishiro-san’s organs into your friend to save his life even if her family hasn’t consented yet. The only consent we can ask for in Kaneki-san’s case is yours and—”

“Do it,” Hide replied immediately. He didn’t know Kaneki’s date, and as much as Hide loved people, argued for a baseline acceptance every day in class, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the wishes of a family whose daughter was already dead. The only thing they were still good for once their hearts stopped beating was serving the living with their remains.

Kaneki might survive because of her; what else could matter? “Do it, whatever you need to save him— you have my full permission.”

Finally, a taxi approached and stopped right when Hide waved for it. He quickly climbed inside and, paying no attention to the driver, told him to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.

“And in case he doesn’t survive, may his organs—”

“He will survive,” Hide pressed because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he were to lose Kaneki. He’d built a life around his best friend and how much they meant to one another. Hide couldn’t give up on that, couldn’t let it slip past his fingers. “He’ll survive. I know it.”

Organ transplants took place every day without any complications—

Hide’s eyes widened. “Kaneki has recessive ROS!” he all but shouted at the nurse, startling the taxi driver.

Kaneki’s father had died because of it. If Kaneki got the wrong blood transfusions or anything, his RC cells were suddenly pushed to start acting up, the dormant sickness could turn on and what if Hide had just damned him to a life of wasting away—

No.

Stay positive. Don’t freak out even more. They hadn’t done anything yet, merely asked for Hide’s permission to help Kaneki at all. He was saving his friend’s life; he wasn’t cursing him.

“Thank you for telling me, Nagachika-san. I will pass that on to Dr. Kanou. You have just contributed immensely to the safety of the procedure.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Hide said. “Just— he has to hold on. Tell Kaneki he has to hold on until I’m there.”

“We will, Nagachika-san, don’t worry. Dr. Kanou will do his best.”

His best.

The words echoed in Hide’s mind. How was he ever supposed to know if Kanou’s best would be enough for his friend? Hide excelled at being optimistic, could see the positive side of most things in life, had learned how to be hopeful at the funerals of people he’d loathed. He just couldn’t allow himself to drown in any negative possibilities.

The rest of the drive passed in the blur, either because the driver had known to speed up after listening in on the phone call, or because Hide was so out of it that he didn’t really register the streetlamps flickering by until the taxi had reached its destination. Hide passed the driver a couple bills, probably more than the transport had actually cost, but he didn’t care. What were one or two skipped meals compared to being there before it was too late? Hide rushed inside the sterile white hospital, eyes immediately set on the front desk.

“My friend,” Hide stuttered as he clung to the counter, holding it as if it were his lifeline. “He was brought in— an accident. He was on a date and there was an accident. Dr. Kanou is operating him?”

The receptionist seemed confused, needing a moment to make something coherent out of Hide’s rambles. “I need your identification before I can tell you anything about our patients.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Hide fumbled for his student ID card and put it on the counter with shaky hands. “Nagachika Hideyoshi, I’m Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact.”

“Of course, your friend is still in the operating room. You can wait here.”

Hide didn’t want to wait, but what else was there he could do? He hated feeling useless like this, unable to contribute anything productive. The receptionist sent him a kind look and, defeated, Hide crossed the entrance hall to the waiting room where he remained together with other worried family members and patients, clutching his phone so he wouldn’t start screaming. He couldn’t stop moving his legs, stress keeping him wide awake even as the hospital emptied and less and less people sat around him. How long did such an operation take? An hour? Two? Hide had absolutely no idea. He didn’t study anything like this. His major was English literature, which was about as helpful as hot air at this moment.

He could quote enough books concerned with some medical drama and family members in the hospital, but none of them brought him any comfort.

“Nagachika-san?”

Hide looked up into the kind face of an elderly man wearing a pristine white coat.

“Y- yes?” Hide replied and quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. “Are you Dr. Kanou? Is my friend alright? Can I see him?”

“I am sorry to have caused you such worries. The operation went well. Your friend is resting in intensive care right now. He is still asleep, but you may visit him. The presence of loved ones is often very beneficial to the healing process.”

Healing.

A sob shook Hide’s shoulders. Kaneki was alive. He hadn’t died.

“Thank you,” he managed to say in between his sobs. “Thank you, thank you for saving his life.”

The doctor only kept on smiling and kindly put his hand on Hide’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly in what was meant to be comforting. “It is my job, young man. You don’t have to thank me. Nothing is more important to me than saving innocent lives. If you follow one of the nurses, you can see your friend immediately.”

Hide thanked the doctor once more, relief slowly filling the pits anxiety had hollowed out. He followed the nurse through the labyrinth of death, decay, healing, and salvation up to the intensive care station. Quietly, he was led to a room. The door opened, revealing one lone figure on a bed.

From a distance, hooked up with so many tubes and wires, Kaneki was nothing like the person who took up half of Hide’s life. He seemed so much smaller and looked like just one push could snap his connection to life.

“Please remain quiet,” the nurse told him. “And don’t move him.” Glancing at his still trembling fingers, she added, “but you may hold his hand.”

Hide nodded, then quickly crossed the room to Kaneki’s bed and sat down on the chair next to it. Kaneki didn’t move at all; not even a single muscle twitched. Hide would assume they had led him to view his friend’s corpse if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Pushing up the sleeves of his jacket, Hide took Kaneki’s hand in his own.

“Hey, Ken,” he muttered, pressing his eye close so no tears would escape them. “You scared me there. Don’t ever do that again.”

Predictably, Kaneki didn’t reply. Nevertheless, Hide imagined that just for a moment, he squeezed Hide’s hand back. Slowly, the tension bled from Hides’s shoulders and he made himself comfortable in the hard plastic chair. This was bound to be a long night and he was starting to feel his exhaustion catch up to him. He tried to keep his eyes trained on his friend for as long as possible, remaining alert for a change to his condition, but it was getting more and more difficult to keep them open.

Eventually, the darkness caught him as he fell. Hide knew he stirred a couple more times during the night, likely when the nurses came to check on Kaneki. Nobody asked him to move and leave, something he was immensely thankful for. He wouldn’t have been able to let go. By the time the sun began to chase away the shadows again, Hide wasn’t sure how much he had slept, only that it had definitely not been enough. But that was alright, he could catch up on sleep sometime later. It was far more important that Kaneki was going to be alright.

Hide turned to look at Kaneki’s face and found his friend awake, staring back at him.

One eye gray like a stormy cloud before the morning rainfall.

The other was blood-red against the night sky.

[senlinyu]

(1/?) Hi Sen! I hope you're doing alright; I feel like I've been seeing a rise in anti-dramione and anti-Manacled (sometimes even people harassing you as a person) content on social media, so I hope you're doing ok and don't take what people say to heart. Every time I see people read 7 chapters (despite seeing the warnings) and make huge sweeping incredibly damaging assumptions abt you/the story/the fandom as a whole I get so mad but then I realize over half of them are minors +

(2/3) and/or don't have good critical thinking and I havta shut my mouth lol and just ignore them (ex: I saw someone criticize Manacled and then in the same breath say 'I don't know why books are even allowed to have rape in them and it's almost always romanticized in some way' and I had to stop my eyes from rolling down into South America) I do kinda worry about how much Manacled is being recommended on a whole but I feel generally people are very careful and point out the triggers when recommending it and it's just antis who are looking to be offended. Also obviously it's not your problem nor is it under your control how popular Manacled gets. Anyway just wanted to send good vibes and well wishes your way and please don't worry about the antis and the thoughtless people harassing you bc your content is loved by those who understand and have the critical thinking to appreciate the beautiful pieces you write.

Yeah. They pop up on my FYP every once in while and I check to see if any of the criticisms are valid, because admittedly it is an imperfect story and I know that and I’m willing to acknowledge it to anyone with constructive criticism, but normally they miss the whole point of the entire story, so I don’t take them very seriously.

Apparently I’m a privileged white woman appropriating the trauma of POC. Which is funny to hear as a POC. And also, the things I’m being accused of appropriating aren't even the right historical events, but it seems that WWII is the only war they ever learned about in school.

All in all, I’m not terribly concerned that people felt uncomfortable and conflicted about the dystopian horror story I wrote. I’d be more worried if they weren’t. The whole reason for trigger warnings is to warn people away from content that they would be uncomfortable or triggered by reading. 

Now, of course there are the people who think that stories with rape or  sexual assault shouldn’t exist at all, and neither should any content that doesn’t explicitly align with their exact views. And I feel sorry that they feel like they don’t have the critical reasoning skills necessary to entertain a thought without agreeing with it. 

As someone who was raised in a world where sexual assault didn’t exist and no book was allowed that offered views that didn’t align with my parents’ exact ideology, I happen to know that it is that exact recipe that has led to the sexual abuse scandals emerging from practically every single major religious organization over the last ten years. And also Donald Trump. And therefore, I do not give a fuck about people who want to censor or repress real world atrocities or fictional allusions to them, because talking about those things and ensuring that victims of those things aren’t just reduced to being nothing but their victimhood is what emboldens people to finally speak out. 

[julyarchives]

Lovers In The Night || (M)

Dating an idol is already hard, and when you debut it gets even harder, but your boyfriend Changgu knows just how to make up for all the time spent apart 

→ Pairing: Yeo One x Female Reader 

→ Genre: Smut; just a little bit of angst in the beginning 

→ Words:  2.2K

→ Contains: established relationship (sort of); first time; cute soft smut

→ A/n: Finally, here is the story of our birthday boy of the week! Thank you so much 🌻anon, for your request! This can be read as a one-shot, or as a follow up of So Bad, it’s up to you!

Your debut has finally happened and because of it, your relationship was riskier than ever. Changgu and you started dating when you were still a trainee, fully aware of the consequences that come with his fame, and one day possibly yours'. And now that it's arrived, there was hardly any dating during the day, or dating at all when the schedule was packed with promotion activities.

This particular morning, Pentagon and your group had an appearance together in a TV show and it was really tough for you to act like you weren't even close. He was just perfect as an entertainer, so he always stood out on variety shows. The hardest part was backstage when you thought it could be your chance to sneak some time together, but since the other members didn't know you were together there was no chance to do so.

Acting like you were strangers really hurt you. While the other girls celebrated the success of your appearances, you just sat quietly in the corner and texted him.

"I miss you." You quickly typed.

"I miss you too, you look so beautiful today." He didn't take long to answer

"You too! I wish I could say that in-person :( "

"I'm sorry :("

You've been together for a couple of months, so this wasn't how you expect to spend the honeymoon phase, and texting somehow made you miss him more. 

After the promotions were over for the day, you figured you could try and meet your boyfriend, but as soon as he texted back that he was still busy with a photoshoot you simply crumbled. It was a tiring day and all you need was some kisses and your boyfriend's embrace, but acting like strangers was all you got, and now you decided to let yourself feel sad. You couldn't vent to anyone because you had to keep it a secret, so your resolution was to just lay in bed and allow a few tears to come out. You knew what you signed up for when you confessed to him, and he warned you that this might happen, but you just could not help but feel sad for not being able to enjoy your relationship like a normal person.

You ended up falling asleep, and It was a little past midnight when the sound of your phone ringing woke you up.

"Changgu?" You answered the phone, not expecting this call

"Hey, sugar!" his tone was cheerful "I just left our last schedule, I'll be there in 10."

"What do you mean, Changgu? It's late, you need to rest!" You protested, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"You better be ready when I arrive." You could hear the smirk in his voice before he hung up.

10 minutes later and you were properly dressed, hiding your face with a bucket hat and a mask. As soon as his car parked, you wasted no time getting in and releasing yourself from your disguise. Changgu drove off smoothly.

"Hello" you said shyly.

"Hey, sugar" he stole a glance "you look stunning as always"

"You look yourself" you replied "what's up with the sudden call? I thought you would be tired of working so late."

"Nah" His hand sneaked to your thigh, squeezing gently, and you thought he never looked so cool before. "I will always have time for my girl"

You giggled quietly, a little surprised at the sudden possessive pronoun. It makes you feel special, you are his.

You drove off of the city, taking a highway, just quietly enjoying the wind coming from the opened windows and the song quietly serenading you. You didn't bother asking where he was taking you, you trusted him completely, and knowing that it was a place more secluded like that was a nice bonus. 

You finally arrived at the top of a hill where the hill offered a beautiful view of the city with all the privacy you two need. 

"Wait just a second" he pecked your lips quickly and left the car after grabbing something from the backseat. 

you watched him open a big cozy blanket he took out of a picnic basket on the ground and place candles carefully, lighting them up to create a romantic atmosphere for you two. 

"You can come now" he opened the car door for you, reaching his hand, which you gladly took.

The date was the calm and peace you needed. You had pizza and drank wine, and now you were just quietly sitting with your back against his chest, basking in his presence.

"I'm sorry we can't have many dates, y/n," he said "I know you miss it.'

"I do" you admitted defeat. "But I understand, we've both been so busy. I just miss being your girlfriend, that's all." 

He planted delicate kisses here and there, at the top of your head, neck, and shoulders.

"I'll make it up for you, sugar." He whispered in your ear, his warm breath ticklish against your skin.

You look at him, who had the most charming smile across his lips, and suddenly all you wanted was to feel it against your own. You turned to face him and hooked your hand around his neck, gently pulling him closer.

He kissed you slowly and sensually, exploring every inch of your mouth. You breathed in his scent and felt glad to be in his arms, having the privilege of being the one he kisses this passionately. You relaxed your body and laid with your back on the blanket, pulling him together so he stayed on top of you, not breaking the contact for one second.

You kissed him and kissed him, and really kissed him. You could never get tired of his touches. The way his hands caressed your sides, your arms, your cheeks, your hair His chest flushed against yours, and your whole bodies together, connected like it was meant to be. But the more you had him, the more you wanted him

"Changgu" you called him in between kisses "I want you"

"You have me, y/n" he looked deeply into your eyes, breath already heavy.

"No." You replied "I want you."

"Oh" he looked surprised "y/n, are you sure? I mean, we've never gone past this point, and don't you think it's too soon? I don't want you to feel pressured or…"

You lingered a peck in his lips to stop him.

 "I don't think I can wait anymore, Changgu, I want you so bad." 

As you pulled him for another kiss, you took the opportunity to remove his jacket. He started kissing you harder, touches now more desperate like he allowed himself to do as he pleased freely, not holding back or planning to stop any time soon. Your hands explored inside his shirt, grazing your nails along the lines of his toned chest and abs. 

You two sat up for you to take his shirt off, but this time when lying down, you decided to be on top. You straddled him, and one of his hands grabbed behind your neck, intertwining fingers in your hair and tugging in to guide the kiss, while the other went to your thigh, squeezing its way up your dress. 

He, then, grabbed your ass and guided you to grind against the growing bulge in his jeans. He never touched you like that, and feeling in his actions how much he wanted you only got you fueled. His gasps and small sounds that you wouldn’t quite catch if you weren’t this close to him. 

Both of his hands went to your ass before climbing up and taking your dress out of you, leaving you wearing only your underwear. He looked at you in awe, admiring every curve of yours and caressing it gently, like he was engraving your body in his fingertips.

“y/n” he called you again, but already had your full attention “are you sure that’s what you want? You already said you miss being my girlfriend, and after this things might change between us. And if we don’t have time to meet up again so soon, I don’t want you to feel that way when things get more serious.”

“I don’t need any labels to know what I want, Changgu.” you simply answered “and I don’t think I can go back in this. All I want is for you to have me. All of me. We can worry about what that means later.”

“Okay, then” he nodded and firmly kissed you again.

You reached your hand in between you two and dared to go inside his pants after u. You felt his hard member against your palm and risked a light squeezed, which earned a hiss out of him, and a small curse to drop from his lips. 

“Is this good?” you asked 

“Fuck, yes” he muttered under his breath “just move slowly, please”

You followed his command, carefully watching his reactions to see if you were doing correctly. You moved your hand up and down, flicking our wrist the slightest, just wanting to make him feel good. To return the pleasure, Changgu cupped your breasts, his big hands massaging it in its whole, pinching your nipples through your lacy bra, the jolts of pleasure running through your whole body as he knew exactly where you liked to be touched, and the wetness pooling in between your legs helped his case.

“I need more, Changgu” you pleaded, lewd voice almost out of control. “Did you bring a condom?”

He nodded and dig a hand in his pocket.

You backed away and watched as he opened the wrapping and unrolled it around his dick after discarding his lasts pieces of clothing as you did to yours. ‘This is it’, you thought to yourself ‘no going back now.’.

He held your hips and aligned it with his’. He gave you a small reassurance nod and eased him into you. He was big, so you stood still for a few seconds, adjusting to his size with eyes close. You felt his gentle hand caress your face and whisper how good you were taking. 

When the stinging pain from being stretched eased, you started rocking your hips. He guided your hips again in a slow movement, you two enjoying the sensation of being the closest you’ve ever been. You leaned down to kiss him again, nibbling his plush bottom lip sensually.

He jerked his hips up to meet yours and hit just the right spot that made you let out a loud moan involuntarily, leaning back up and throwing your head back in pleasure. You rested your hands on his strong pecs, balancing yourself to thrust against him harder.

“You look so beautiful, sugar” his voice came out breathy, which only made him sound sexier to you.

The pleasure was building up and your legs started shaking, the effort in your thighs also getting too much, all caused you to slow down. Changgu, always so thoughtful and attentive, sat up and held you close for a deep kiss.

“Lay down, baby” he whispered in your ear “let me make it good for you.”

With his hand supporting your back, he laid you down gently and positioned himself on top of you, not wasting any time in pushing himself into you again. 

He thrust faster this time, a few strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, and he never broke eye contact, watching your every move like he was hypnotized, and you felt just the same, not being able to take his eyes out of his intense gaze. You embraced him, and it was the best feeling to have his whole body flushed against yours, skin to skin warmness in the chilly evening. It all felt straight out of a dream.

He adjusted the angle for him, and now he was hitting just the right spot inside of you, your mouth hanging open with just incoherent sounds leaving it, seemingly something close to Changgu’s name.

“I’m gonna…” you managed to put these words together and Changgu understood it really quickly.

“Let go, Sugar, let me see how good you feel.”

You reached your hand and massaged your clit just to intensify your climax, and you allowed yourself to call his name like a prayer. Your walls tightened around him, and your noises drove him to his edge. He grunted and kissed you sloppily, riding off both of your orgasms.

He collapsed by your side, chest rising up and down fast, tied the condom, and tossed it aside before pulling you in to lay on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, holding you securely against him and his hand caressed along your spine while your fingers followed the muscle lines on his stomach.

“That was amazing,” he said and kissed the top of your head “You’re always amazing.”

You looked up and kissed his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself, mister” you smirked. “I’m glad I did this with you.”

“Me too” he answered and kissed you passionately like you knew only he could do it.

The drive back was quiet, both of you dreading to get back to real life, but enjoying each other nevertheless. He was more touchy than before like he just couldn’t just keep his hands to himself anymore now that he knew he could touch you however he wanted.

He parked in the alley next to your dorm, even though the streets were empty this late at night, but better safe than sorry.

“So, I guess that’s it” He sighed, turning to face you and cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your face

“I guess” you smile half-heartedly “We have a schedule together tomorrow, though.”

“We do. See you tomorrow, then?” 

“See you tomorrow, stranger.”

[zeldasayer]

I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

[the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff]

Chapter 6

I manged to finish chapter 6 😃. I’m so excited about this one. I had so much fun and I hope y’all like it. Inspiration for the fic comes from @heyitssmiller and her fabulous anons. Credit for the characters goes to @lumosinlove 

To say he was nervous was a gross understatement. Leo had spent his whole life behind the tower’s walls, and now he was going to a place full of people. He was going to meet Finn and Logan’s family. 

Leo stopped in his tracks when he saw the stone building. The orphanage didn’t look the way he expected. It was a house, probably a family estate. It didn’t look scary or intimidating, it looked inviting and warm and like what a home was supposed to be. 

It looked like what the tower never was. 

Leo heard Finn take a deep breath. “Celeste is going to have our heads.” 

A nervous laugh bubbled out of Logan. “Yeah, we’re super dead.” 

“Worth it”, Finn said softly, looking at Leo. The boy didn’t seem to notice. 

The blonde had a worried expression on his face. He had heard Logan and Finn talk about Celeste constantly. She sounded like a great person, if not a little scary, but nothing like what Walburga was like. What worried Leo was that she wouldn’t like him. 

He didn’t know why that worried him so much. He’d told the other two as much, they had tried reassuring him. Tried telling him she would like him just fine because, as Logan put it, “what’s not to like”. 

“Well, let’s go.” Finn began walking towards the building. “To our, hopefully painless, deaths”. 

“I can’t tell if you are joking or not”, Leo sounded worried. 

Logan laughed, “they’re joking, trust me.” 

Finn turned around to look at Leo, they had a puzzled look on their face before something clicked in their mind. 

“Don’t worry, Celeste is a sweetheart she won’t hurt us.” 

They opened the door. A small child with long brown hair came running out and jumped on Logan, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. 

“Hey Katie.” 

Logan put her down and she looked up at him with a glare. “Logan Tremblay, don’t ever disappear like that again.” 

Finn watched Logan get scolded by a small ten year old Katie with an amused face. After glaring at Logan for a few seconds she turned around to look at Finn, she was mad. 

“Don’t think I forgot about you. Disappear like that again and I’m taking away your Katie privileges.” She turned to look at Logan, “yours too”. 

Leo tried to suppress a laugh as he watched them both apologize profusely. “What are Katie privileges?” 

Logan looked at Leo before explaining, “Basically, if she takes away our Katie privileges, we would have to call her Katherine.”

She turned to look at Leo, the anger in her face changing into curiosity. 

“Hello, who are you?” 

“I’m Leo.” He put his hand out for a handshake. 

“Katherine”, she said, shaking Leo’s hand. 

“Wow Katie, you’re so classy”, Finn said between giggles, “shaking hands and everything.” 

“Shut it Finnegan”. 

Logan laughed at Finn’s pouting face. “Lo, you’re sister is making fun of me”. 

Logan’s shrug made Finn pout more. Leo wanted to kiss it away. 

 He shouldn't feel like that about Finn. They had a boyfriend who, Leo realized, he also wanted to kiss. The realization made him startle slightly. He wasn’t exactly surprised, he had dreamt about having a storybook ending since forever. Someone coming to rescue him from the evil inside the tower had been a fantasy of his since he had started reading. 

In the story it was always some damsel in the tower. It was always a girl getting rescued by a dashing prince. Finn and Logan weren’t a prince, and he wasn’t a damsel, but Leo found that he really didn’t care. They had gotten him out of his own personal hell, that he had lived in for years, and he loved them for that. 

Leo had known Finn and Logan for about three days, and he knew almost nothing about them, but he knew enough to know that what he felt wasn’t just gratitude. They were patient with him when he didn’t understand things, and made him laugh and got him out of his thoughts when they drifted to the more dangerous of his memories and they were so beyond gentle with him. 

They made Leo happy. 

They had taken every idea, thought and opinion Walburga had planted into his mind and destroyed every single one of them, and yes maybe somewhere there was someone that would want to take advantage of him the way she always told him the world would, but she already did that.

 Walburga was every single danger and horror she preached about. People like her were the reason Leo wasn’t allowed to leave the tower. That’s why he had made the deal with Finn in the first place. He had made a choice between two monsters and he didn’t regret it. 

If Leo had chosen to stay, to just give Finn the crown and let them leave without him, he wouldn’t have gotten to know either of them. He wouldn’t have known that there were people out there that could care for him, he wouldn’t have known what kindness and love felt like. 

If given the choice again, he would always choose Finn and Logan. 

“Leo, are you alright”. He met Logan's worried gaze. Leo blinked slowly, shaking the thoughts from his mind before responding. 

“Yeah, I’m ok” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Well Katie is already inside and probably announced to the world that we’re here so”, Finn made a motion with their hand, “you may get questioned by an eccentric twenty three year old .” 

Leo laughed, Logan was pleased to hear it sounded real. “What do you mean ‘questioned’.”

“June is very curious. She tends to ask a lot of questions.” 

“Who’s June?”  

“June is Finn’s Katie”, came Logan’s response. “Come on”, he motioned with his hands for Leo and Finn to follow him inside the house. 

The inside was interesting to say the least. There were toys and books thrown all over the floor.  A boy and girl were running around being chased by Katie, there was who Leo guessed was June, painting the portrait of a woman that was sitting in front of her. 

  “Alright so, they”, Finn whispered while pointing at the kids, “are Pascal and Celeste’s children. Marc, Adele and well you already met Katie.” 

“What about them?”

“That’s June“, they pointed at the girl painting, ”and her girlfriend Heather. 

The girls turned at the hushed voices. June’s eyes went wide when she saw Finn. She ran towards them and hugged them tightly. 

“June, I can’t breathe.”

“Shut up, you have no say in this”, she said, hugging them tighter. Leo could have sworn he heard Finn’s back crack. 

“June”, Heather grabbed June's waist, trying to pry her off of Finn, “love, they need air”. 

“June, sweetie, I prefer my partners in one piece”, Logan said between giggles. 

June must have decided that Finn had suffered enough, because she let them go,  punching them in the arm right after. “Finn soon-to-be Tremblay, I will only say this one, you disappear like that again and I am hurting you.”

Logan blushed slightly at the name, Finn just laughed. “Heather please control your girlfriend before she murders me.” 

“Why on earth would I do that Finn.”

“Because you like me and would hate to see me dead?”

Leo felt a slight tug at his hair and looked down. Katie was braiding a small piece of his hair. “Hi”. 

Katie looked up at him, “can I braid your hair?” eyes shining with barely suppressed excitement. 

Leo thought about it. He wasn’t used to anyone other than Walburga touching his hair, but how could he say no to such a cute kid. “Yeah”. 

Katie grabbed his hand and brought him over to where Adele and Marc were seated on cushions with a basket of different colored daisies. When Leo sat down the three of them began braiding the flowers into his hair. It was calming, he liked being able to relax into the feeling of someone doing his hair just because they wanted to. Katie, Adele and Marc didn't have ulterior motives to do this, they didn't know, and even if they did Leo doubted they would want to hurt him like Walburga did.

“Hey”- a girl’s soft voice brought him out of his thoughts- “my name is Adele, this is my brother Marc. What’s your name?”

“Leo. It’s nice meeting you”. 

“Why is your hair so long?” Marc said from besides him. He was making a flower crown. 

“My caretaker has never let me cut it.” He tried to keep his tone light. 

Katie hummed, like never cutting your hair was a completely sane decision. “I wish I didn’t have to cut my hair”, she said before going back to placing flowers on Leo’s hair.

“All done”, Adele said as she placed an orange daisy on Leo’s ear. “Come on, let’s go show Lo and Finn.” She pulled Leo by the arm and dragged him over to where Finn and Logan were sitting with June as she continued to paint Heather. 

Katie reached them first. Logan picked her up and sat her on his lap so she could whisper something to him. “We made Leo’s hair pretty.” Logan smiled softly before looking up and seeing Leo. 

Logan’s thoughts stumbled over each other. Different versions of the words beautiful and adorable and lovely running through his mind in both English and French. Finn felt a couple faint taps on their leg, but they didn’t pay any attention to it. Their  mind couldn't focus on anything that wasn't blonde hair, daisies and soft baby blue eyes.  

“What do you think?” Leo asked, twirling so they could have a good view of the braid. Finn made a soft sound while Logan just sighed, a soft smile on his face. 

“You look-”, a dreamy sigh left his lungs, Logan couldn’t find words to describe the way Leo looked. 

“You look amazing”, Finn had a dopey smile on their face.  

“Thank you.” There was a soft blush on Leo’s cheeks, his eyes shining with amusement and something else Logan couldn't recognize. “I think the crown is a nice touch.” 

Finn couldn’t have agreed more with the last statement. The crown on Leo’s head was beautiful. It was made of yellow and purple daisies, and it fit Leo perfectly. Resting gently on his head like a halo. 

Logan watched Leo crouch down in front of Katie so that she could fix the flowers that had gone out of place with a soft look in his eyes. Both Finn and Logan turned towards each other, brown meeting green, a mutual understanding passing between them. 

Leo was great. He was funny and sarcastic and beautiful. Even though they had met Leo less than three days ago it felt like they had known each other for years. Whatever it was that Finn and Logan felt for Leo was right. 

They realized that what they felt about Leo was exactly how they felt about each other. They loved Leo. They didn’t know how they fell for someone they had just met, didn’t know when or why or even what it was that made them fall in love in the first place, but it didn’t matter. 

Finn and Logan loved Leo and it felt right, and if they had learnt anything through the years it was that things like these didn’t follow order. Love was messy and wild and free and so right. 

Finn and Logan loved Leo, they just hoped Leo could love them back.