#AKS Security

[rajaniesh]

Best practices to deploy Azure Kubernetes services in a Production environment

Azure Kubernetes Service (AKS) has emerged as a leading container orchestration service, offering a plethora of features that streamline the deployment, management, and scaling of containerized applications.

Azure Kubernetes Service (AKS) has emerged as a leading container orchestration service, offering a plethora of features that streamline the deployment, management, and scaling of containerized applications. One of the standout aspects of AKS is its flexibility in offering both public and private clusters, as well as the powerful VNet integrations. In this guide, we’ll delve deep into these…

[rightnewshindi]

जम्मू के ग्रेटर कैलाश में ड्रेस पहने और AK-47 लिए नजर आए संदिग्ध, सुरक्षाबलों ने चलाया तलाशी अभियान

Jammu Kashmir: जम्मू में ग्रेटर कैलाश के पास सूखी नहर में बीती रात कैंप ड्रेस पहने तीन लोगों को कथित तौर पर एके-47 जैसे हथियारों के साथ देखा गया। इसके बाद सुरक्षाबलों ने तलाशी अभियान चलाया। तलाशी अभियान रात 10:15 बजे समाप्त हुआ। इस दौरान सुरक्षाबलों को कुछ भी संदिग्ध नहीं मिला। अधिकारियों ने नरवाल की ओर चौकियों को मजबूत करने की सलाह दी है। बता दें कि 30 जुलाई को भारतीय सेना ने पुंछ जिले से…

[starsandsuch]

ATMAKARAKA THROUGH THE HOUSES: how does your soul’s purpose manifest in this lifetime? 💡🦋

Your Atmakaraka is the planet in your Vedic Astrology chart with the highest degree. This planet represents your soul’s purpose in the lifetime.

Your Atmakaraka is called your soul planet or your AK planet. It is the significator of your soul.

The house your Soul Planet is in will paint a picture to how exactly your souls purpose will manifest in this lifetime.

Read my original post on identifying your soul planet: here

Atmakaraka in the 1H:

Your souls purpose is about self development. You’re meant to cultivate your own identity in this lifetime. Your major life lessons relate to being authentic and following your own journey. To develop strong boundaries between who you are vs what your expected to be. You’re meant to do things uniquely in a way that suits you and you only. Disregard the path society sets out for you, and create your own. You’re destined for notoriety and recognition.

Atmakaraka in the 2H:

Your soul’s purpose is about creating stability and security for yourself. Your meant to establish yourself in the material world, and be self-sufficient financially. You’re life’s journey is about sustenance. Sustaining yourself, your name, your possessions, your resources and your money. It’s all about creating and maintaining a proper foundation for yourself. You’re meant to use your voice as a method for fulfilling your purpose. Developing your speech to convey a message is apart of what your soul wants to do.

Atmakaraka in the 3H:

Your soul’s purpose is about communication. How do you express yourself? What mediums help you get your message across most authentically? You are destined to bring a specific message to the world that can only be channeled through you. Your destiny has a lot to do with speech, messages, media and conversation. You are meant to exercise a sense of courage in this life and do things fearlessly. Fearlessly communicating your authentic thoughts to the world. Saying what’s on your heart. Through music, writing, poetry, public speaking and the like.

Atmakaraka in the 4H

Your soul’s journey is about developing your inner happiness. Your meant to do what brings you emotional fulfillment. What makes you feel safe, secure, emotionally aligned? That is what your soul seeks to experience in this lifetime. Alignment with family and ancestors is a key life theme for you. To experience the emotional bond with people you call your family. You’re meant to get in touch with your roots, and align with the foundation of who you are. You’re soul seeks a sense of rootedness to the past in order to cultivate your future. The connection you have with your mother is an important part of your journey.

Atmakaraka in the 5H:

Your destined to express yourself creatively in this lifetime. You’re meant to develop and display your creative talents to the world. Your creative contributions are important, unique, and only can be expressed by you. Your life purpose is connected to performance, arts and entertainment. Through these mediums you are able to express your true soul purpose. Parenthood is a sacred journey for you, where you’re meant to experience preganacy/ raising a child. Your destiny is connected to children in general. Teaching them, guiding them, being involved in their development.

Atmakaraka in the 6H:

Your soul seeks to be of service in this lifetime. You are meant to be a healer. Healing yourself, healing those who need your help. Your power lies in being of service to humanity through your healing abilities. You are destined to overcome adversities and cultivate a sense of resilience. You’ll experience challenges, yet this transforms you into the ultimate problem-solver. You develop impenetrable strength: mentally, spiritually and psychologically. You incarnated because society needs your help, God sending one of his strongest soldiers to help heal the world. You have a special connection with animals in this lifetime. They are your allies in this journey.

Atmakaraka in the 7H

Your soul seeks to connect with others through partnership. Your soul’s purpose involves being in relationships that are fulfilling on a emotional, psychological and physical level. It is in your destiny to cultivate your social presence in the world, being a person of charm, decorum and worldliness. Your major life themes involve how you appeal to people and how you use your social connections to elevate your life. Your soul seeks to be impactful in society, through the social influence you have.

Atmakaraka in the 8H:

Your soul’s purpose is destined towards transformation. You experience blockages, challenges and adversities but come out stronger every time. You’re meant to turn your pain into power, to be an alchemist. Your soul came here to experience transformation. Spiritually, mentally, physically and psychologically. You’ll be faced with many unexpected crises yet your powerful intuition will always guide you. The occult knowledge you have will be key in your journey. You’re destined to experience the power that comes from transforming yourself and your life. You’re destined to leave a powerful legacy.

Atmakaraka in the 9H:

You’re destined to be a guide to others. Your soul came here with the purpose of spiritual evolution. Over the course of your life you’ll have many awakenings, epiphanies and realizations. This leads you to amassing abundant wisdom. You’re destined to teach the wisdom you have to others, guiding them on their paths. Your destiny is a worldly one, where it impacts people on a global scale. Your soul seeks the truth, spiritual knowledge, and the ability to live a life free of falsities and illusions.

Atmakaraka in the 10H:

You are destined to achieve your long term goals and be established in the material world. Your soul seeks achievement in the material world. To be successful , have recognition and status is what you’re here to achieve. Your destined to leave your mark on the world in an authentic way, your here to build and leave your legacy through your career and reputation. You are destined for fame or high status.

Atmakaraka in the 11H:

You are destined to fulfill your wishes and desires. Your life has a lot to do with manifesting. Manifesting your long term goals and unique visions. You are a visionary. You’re meant to focus on your gains in life and how you can achieve success in the material realm. Along the way you are likely to be popular and influential. Your purpose leads you to elevating humanity through your influence, there’s a deeper theme here of you making a difference in the world. Your goals and desires help the collective at large. Through your influence you help shape the trajectory of society.

Atmakaraka in the 12H:

Your destiny is about spiritual liberation. Your soul seeks truth and enlightenment. More importantly it seeks freedom from the cycles of reincarnation. You’re likely here on earth now as one of your final lifetimes. You are an old soul. This means your life is about letting go and not having attachments in the material realm that keep you trapped here. That’s why you’re on a discovery of truth. Dispelling illusions and aligning with your true spiritual journey. Your road is lonely, isolating and harrowing at times, but it’s all for the purpose of aligning you with your spiritual destiny. You are a healer and wise person. Your purpose involves being of service to others. You find it hard to connect to the material world/ mainstream society bc your destined for something greater. You’re meant to fulfill your spiritual goals more than material. 12th house is the “exit”. The spiritual, mystical exit where your soul elevates to the next realm after this incarnation, and you break free from being recycled back to earth.

Related posts:

Your soul planet and your mission in this lifetime

Your 1st house ruler and your unique life path

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

How would AK!Jason go with the fact that Y/N got kidnapped by Harley Quinn’s thugs while he was busy on a mission with his Militia. Love your stories by the way!

Abducted

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! Fair warning, this gets angsty. ~2.3k words

The Arkham Knight is surrounded by the dead bodies of nine of his most trusted and skilled men. It's not a mystery how they got that way. He shot the ones that were still alive himself.

Number ten is cowering on the ground, it's pathetic, really. They were supposed to be the best of the best.

That's what he was paying them for. So why the hell aren't you in the safe house he left you in? He unloads the rest of the clip into number tens leg, voice flat as he seethes, "Where are they?"

Number ten cries out. Jason doesn't really care. "They're– Harley! Quinn's gang got 'em," number ten chokes out, shaking and sobbing and weak.

"And where, exactly, did they take them?" Jason asks, reloading his gun.

"I don't know," number ten wails, and if Jason wasn't so pissed he'd roll his eyes. But he doesn't. This is serious. You're missing, and he's on the verge of blowing Gotham to hell.

"Guess," he hisses, pressing the barrel of the gun to the man's forehead.

"I don't– they said something about a carnival," number ten chokes out.

"Anything else," The Arkham Knights asks. Number ten shakes his head vigorously. Jason pulls the trigger and watches the body slump to the floor. He turns to the rest of the men, watching as they stiffen and shift under his gaze.

He's already stalking past them, "What do you have?"

"Sir, Harley Quinn hasn't been in Gotham since the Joker died," one of the men starts. Jason wonders if they notice the way his hands clench. "But there's rumors about a separate cell of Joker apologists, fanatics trying to keep his name alive."

He grits his teeth. Fine, that's not new information. But why would they go after you? "And," he forces out, "What does that have to do with them?"

His men follow him uneasily, "GCPD flagged a shipment to ACE Chemicals that went missing a few days ago. They– it was mentioned the truck was carrying chemicals similar to the ones used in the Joker and Harley Quinn cases, sir."

If he was any less trained, any less used to the hell that is Gotham, he would have stumbled, let out choked sounds and anguish and fear.

"One of the techs has a theory it's a revenge kidnapping," one of the sergeants continues, "for taking over Joker's old hideouts last week. It looks like they used a form of the laughing gas on the sentries outside."

"They're all going to be dead by the end of the night," He snaps, gesturing towards one of the lieutenants, "Get the men to set up a parameter. No one leaves the area. And no one moves in until they're secured. Understood?"

They nod vigorously. "Bring the fear toxin," the Arkham Knight grits out. He's out of the safe house and sprinting over Gothams rooftops without another word.

He knows Gotham better than most. Knows to take a shortcut over city hall, knows to jump in three... two... one... to land perfectly on a passing train. Knows when to shoot his grappling gun for the quickest route to the abandoned fairgrounds.

His heart is racing. He can see the number tracking his pulse steadily rising. He glares at the little number on the corner of his screen with a vengeance. He doesn't get to be scared. Doesn't get to panic until you're back at the base, warm and safe in his bed.

There's bile in his throat as he stalks through the shadows of the carnival. It rises with each thug he leaves crumpled and lifeless in the dirt. He's only acting on his training now, on the drive that he has to get to you, has to save you.

He slips past decaying attractions, clenches his fists at the abandoned ACE Chemicals truck crashed into a rotted ring toss booth. He follows the laughter and taunting voices to a ripped and decrepit tent.

There's not many places to hide, but Jason's the best at what he does. He thinks he might have been born to stalk the filth of Gotham.

His eyes narrow at the sight of you. Arms tied behind your back. Bruise forming on your cheek. Dazed expression, likely a concussion. Balanced precariously on the seat of a dunk tank over a pool of neon chemicals.

His fingers twitch over his gun when one of the goons throws a ball at the target, barely missing as the others laugh.

He counts the number of Joker fanatics in the room. Thirteen men. Eight women. Six posted close enough to you where they could hit the target if he's not fast enough. Seventeen with visible guns. All with visible weapons. There's more voices outside the tent.

He eyes the woman swinging a bat covered with barbed wire a little too close to the dunk tank, too close to you. Jason wants to get you out first. There's too many variables. You could get shot. He's not fast enough.

Someone throws another baseball. It's a perfect toss. He shoots it out of the air.

"You have something of mine," The Arkham Knight drawls, stepping out of the shadows. He would smile at the way most of the room flinches at the sight of him. He would if you weren't teetering over a vat of bubbling chemicals.

One of the men steps forward. Stupid of him, really, "Finders keepers." He says it like it's a game. Like you're just some toy they picked up off the street.

Jason laughs. It's funny, that they think just because they stole you, it makes you any less his, "I'm going to give you two choices. One, you drop your weapons and leave. Two, you stay and you learn exactly what the chemicals in that vat can do."

More people leave than he expected. Huh. Guess they aren't so loyal to the clowns' legacy as they said. "I'm not scared of you," Goon number one spits. Goon number one gets a bullet in his stomach.

"You will be," The Arkham Knight murmurs. It's quick work. They're untrained, inexperienced. Half of them are high. It becomes increasingly clear with each body that hits the floor gasping that someone paid off his men to get to you.

He's pulling you off and out of the dunk tank as the last thug hits the floor, "How bad is it?" Jason's hands do not shake as he unties your wrists. (They do.) His breath does not leave his lungs when you say your head hurts. (It does.)

His eyes dart over your face and he picks you up to cradle you against his chest, "I'll have a medic look over you when we get back." He tries to sound soothing, the modulator makes it sound emotionless. You don't even acknowledge it.

He carries you out of the tent. The Joker fanatics that left are kneeling in the dirt and his men have their guns trained to kill. The Arkham Knight nods to them, "Use the Fear Toxin. Inject them with the highest dose we have. Drop the freaks still alive in the tent into the vat."

"Yes, sir," his men echo. Jason ignores the begging that starts up behind him as he carries you to the armored truck. He maneuvers you inside with him, settles you on his lap as his hand brushes the bruise on your face.

"Boss," the soldier behind the steering wheel prompts.

"Take us back to base, sergeant," The Arkham Knight says evenly, gloves still tracing your bruise. He doesn't ask questions, doesn't make any promises. The only comfort he offers is his hand gripping your waist tightly, paired with the gentle caressing of your face.

He knows it's not kind, the way he's holding you. He sees it in your eyes, even through the exhaustion and headache you're feeling, he's overbearing. He can't bring himself to care. All that matters is that you're safe in his arms.

The rest he can take care of later. It'll be simple for him and Deathstroke to pick through the rats in his ranks. Scarecrow's always in need of new test subjects, after all.

His grip tightens on you as the truck stops. The Arkham Knight picks you up easily, pushing the door open and carrying you inside the base. His soldiers are quick to move out of his way. They should be. Anyone with a brain can tell he's angry.

He's livid, at the way you hardly move, barely react to him. A medic files after him quickly as he sets you down in his personal quarters.

It's not a room he ever uses, preferring to sleep at whatever safe house you're in, but you're safer here until he can weed out the traitors. He watches you shift slightly in the chair, eyes unfocused.

Jason steps back and studies you with sharp eyes as the medic talks to you quietly, taking note of each wound and stumbled answer you give.

"Mild concussion, some scrapes and abrasions. Nothing that won't heal," the medic decides, "They shouldn't sleep for the next hour and need to be monitored for any worsening symptoms."

Jason motions them to leave. He hates to leave you alone, even for a moment, but there is one more order he needs to give. He follows the medic out the door.

A group of squad leaders stand rigid outside his quarters. Good. They should be on edge. "Make an example of any Joker or Harley Quinn sympathizers," he says, tone an unquestionable command, "Anything that's theirs, is a part of our operations by the end of the night."

He doesn't bother to stay and listen to their replies, already turning back into the room where you're waiting. Jason locks the door behind him, crossing the room in three strides and kneels at your feet.

You blink down at him. He hates the distant look in your eyes. You should be here. With him. He tugs his helmet off, "Does your head still hurt?"

You nod a little, the only proof you're really listening. He takes your hand in his brushing his thumb over your knuckles, "Say something." It's a command. It makes you jolt a little. He hates himself for it.

"I thought– they were gonna kill me," You stumble out, voice weak.

He nods, there's no pretending that's not true, "They can't kill anyone now."

He thinks you would have looked alarmed, if you didn't know what he was now. Relentless. A monster. A killer. But you do know, he's made that more than clear since the moment he got you back by his side.

You look resigned instead. Jason wishes you'd look relieved, "Do you need anything," he asks instead, reaching up to brush the bruise on your cheek. He can't help it, it's his fault that it's there.

You shake your head. He hates how quiet you're being, "Say something," he prompts again. He knows he shouldn't, knows you're in shock and you're hurt and you're tired and you're probably scared and he's not helping. But, he squeezes your hand anyway, a silent demand.

"What do you want me to say, Jason?" You breathe out, eyes finally focusing on him.

"Anything. Ask me for anything. Yell at me. Curse me out. Tell me you hate me. Hit me. Give me a bruise to match," He says almost desperately, pressing himself closer between your knees.

There's something wrong with him. He realizes that. The Arkham Knight is well aware that something inside of him is twisted, that you deserve better than this, especially after what you just went through, but he doesn't stop himself.

"I don't wanna hurt you," You murmur, "You came for me."

"I'm the reason you were there in the first place," Jason protests, both hands moving to cup your face, "I would deserve it, welcome it, if it was from you."

"I want," You start, and Jason leans forward eagerly, ready for whatever punishment you deliver, "I want to lay down. I wanna feel safe."

He falters, but doesn't move from between your legs, "You can't sleep for at least another hour."

"I know," You say quietly. Jason stares at you. You're the only thing that makes him unsure now. You always manage to knock him off center, never doing what he expects.

"Okay," he relents, scooping you up just as easily as he did in the tent. He carries you over to his bed. It's unused, perfectly made. He only ever sleeps wherever you are.

Jason carefully places you at the edge of the bed and digs through a drawer, handing you a shirt. He tugs off his armor, and frowns when you don't move.

"You don't want to sleep in that," it's not a question, and maybe he should frame it as one. Try to get nicer. But he thinks he might have forgotten how. You nod and slowly change. His eyes never leave you.

There's a few more bruises than he expected, and it makes rage coil in his chest. There's nothing he can do but crawl into bed at your side. It makes him uneasy, how little he can do for you.

He tugs you against him, he's not as gentle as he means to be.

You curl against him, fingers tangling into his shirt. He should comfort you here. Tell you it's going to be okay. Promise to protect you. He should rub your back and kiss your forehead and ease whatever pain you have in your heart.

But he's not gentle. He's not good. You're like this because of him. He holds you tighter when tears start to soak his shirt, lets you tangle your legs with his.

He doesn't manage to find the right words to say, doesn't manage to do the right thing before the hour is up, and you drift off to sleep. He doesn't think he ever will.

[okiedreamsreviews]

Crushed by AK Evans ~ New Release

Crushed by AK Evans ~ New Release

CRUSHED   Harper Security Ops #6 Author: A.K. Evans Genre: Military Romantic Suspense Release Date: January 10, 2023     What’s the price of survival? Sawyer McKinney didn’t want to come back. It wasn’t like anyone wanted to see her ever again anyway. But this was about life or death, and that meant there was only one place she could go. If Jesse Hale never saw Sawyer again, it would be too…

[porcalinecunt]

017 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘.

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 piss off the arkham knight, you’re poor pussy pays the price! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader. impact play. punishment. pussy slapping. face slapping. spanking. pain kink. degradation. ak! jason is mean as fuck lmao > - <

・:。[ author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ i don’t really like this but oh well blehhhh • ~ •

“did i tell you to speak?”

“n-no..” SMACK!

“good, so don’t fuckin’ talk.”

you’re cheek stung from the brute force of his slap, surely it was gonna leave another hand print. you’re ass as a whole looked a whole lot worse then you could’ve imagined, tender and raw skin becoming a bright red as your boyfriend continued his assault on it.

to tick off the arkham knight himself is a death wish to anyone, but to you, it’s a game like tag or hide ‘n seek. you couldn’t give someone a clear answer if they were to ask why, where’s the fun in pissing off a short tempered and unstable jason todd?

what you’d never admit is the “reward” you received after hitting his breaking point, one which results in him picking you up over the shoulder and thrown onto the bed in your shared bedroom within hq. clothes torn clean off without regard for them, as if jay can’t get you more.

blue eyes bore into your own as his armor falls off, revealing his broken and scarred body from his torture and years of hard training. jason was a harsh man, inside and out, something that disturbingly aroused you. you couldn’t tell what it was but it made you act out for a drop of his attention.

and a spank to the ass. hell, a hit anywhere on your precious figure. from a slap to the face to one against your weeping cunt, no area is off limits to your lover.

his calloused fingers traced the soft curve of your hips, which were bruised with his hand marks. they inched up your chest, your neck, and eventually your face. reddened eyes and arched eyebrows stares back at jason’s apathetic grin, a stupid expression to fit your empty headed self. you were too cute, so much so, it earned you a light slap that punched a whimper out of your throat.

“someone’s sensative, is it you baby? is it my good little boy?” he cooed in a mocking tone while holding your chin. jason was mean, and he relished in it.

you weakly nodded as he caressed your reddening cheek, submitting to the false sense of security. “d’wa, that’s too fuckin’ bad.”

SMACK! tears welled in your eyes from the sting of his palm against your bruising face. before you could protest, a large hand struck your throat, wrapping its fingers into a tight chokehold. the knight pulled your face closer to his, locking your lips in a sloppy kiss. he could practically taste your sweat and tears from his harsh treatment, it only made his untouched cock so much harder.

“keep whinin’ like this baby, i might just cum from that alone..” he crudely chuckled, giving your other cheek a light slap.

through glassy eyes, you gave your boyfriend a puppy eyed stare. pouting your swollen lips, you tried to sweet talk your way out of jason’s punishment. even going as far as palming his ever so hardening cock, only to receive a less then favorable reaction. the knight laughed. he fucking laughs.

“you think i’m fuckin’ stupid huh?” he scoffs, letting go of his grip on your throat. with one tight grab, he flips you onto your stomach and struck a hard one in your inner thigh. “i know what you want, minx, and your not getting it.”

jason hissed, striking the bruised flesh of your ass as it grew more numb as time ticked by. pathetically, you bucked your hips against the ruined sheets, soaked by your arousal. your aching clit tinged with sweet friction as the knight watched in amusement at your embarrassing attempt of an orgasm. your dry humping was rudely interrupted when he slapped your cunt out of nowhere, forcing you to freeze up.

the sound of ruffling and a small yet audible slap made you flinch, as well as the hot flesh that sat on the curve of your ass.

“i’ll give you what you want, just don’t fuckin’ cry to me about it once it’s too much.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[occultfox7]

PAC: How do your friends view you

PILE 1

Signs: Aries, Gemini, Cancer / Gem: Red Tiger's eye / North node / 4 of Pentacles r, 6 of pentacles r, the Moon

Your friends think you are a positive person, who is strong and charismatic. Someone who knows where they are headed to. They view you as someone generous and giving. Maybe you like to spend money to buy gifts (your love language might be gift giving). You are open and love to take care of your friend group. They love how supportive you are and how understanding you are. Sometimes there are misunderstandings and on negative note they can view you as someone who is too anxious.

PILE 2

Signs: Gemini, Taurus, Aquarius / Gem: Garnet / Full moon in Sagittarius / 9 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, 6 of cups

Your friends think you are a fighter who doesn't give up. Someone who seeks adventure. They see you as someone successful and secure. They see you not only as their friend but also as their family. You have had a lot of happy memories together and they think about them a lot.

PILE 3

Signs: Cancer, Aquarius, Scorpio / Gem: Turquoise / New moon eclipse / 10 of pentacles, the Emperor, the Moon

Your friends think you are unique, complex and harmonious. Someone who doesn't dwell in the past but looks towards the future. They see you as the backbone of the group or the leader. Sometimes you might act too much as the mom/dad of the group and that might annoy them. They see you as someone who keeps secrets well and doesnt reveal them, or maybe you are shy and secretive.

PILE 4

Signs: Pisces, Capricorn, Gemini / Gem: Rose quartz / New moon in Capricorn / 9 of swords r, the Moon, Page of pentacles

Your friends think you are compassionate, kind, peaceful and love to ake care of other people. Someone who makes good plans and sticks to them. They view you as someone who has went through lot and that has made you closed off and uncertain. But also they see you as someone who they can depend on and find help and support and vice versa. They see you as someone goal oriented and ambitious who loves to plan things.

PILE 5

Signs: Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn / Gem: Unakite / South node / Page of pentacles, 9 of swords r., 10 of swords r.

Your friends love many aspects about you. They love how you don't dwell on past mistakes, how grounded and loyal you are, how you have learned to depend on them and seek their help. They know you have been going through a lot and how you survived and you are recovering. They feel really proud of you.

PILE 6

Signs: Scorpio, Libra, Gemini / Gem: Snowflake obsidian / First half / the Moon, 6 of cups, 4 of cups

Your friends love how emotional you are and that you arent scared to show it. Someone who commits to their dreams and works towards making them real. They see you as someone secretive, but also keeping secrets well, they love your past memories that you hared together and think about them a lot. Maybe they miss the past you and are a bit melancholic. At this time you may be growing apart and they might feel a bit indifferent.

PILE 7

Signs: Taurus, Libra, Aquarius / Gem: Amber / Waning moon / the Sun r, the Star, 7 of pentacles

Your friends love how positive and energetic you are, that you act as leader and they can trust you. Someone who is always living fully in the present. They see you as someone really bright and positive, enthusiastic, happy, full of hope and inspiration. Someone who is faithful to them until the end. Someone who has grown a lot since you met. Someone patient.

PILE 8

Signs: Leo, Cancer, Libra / Gem: Garnet / South node / Queen of wands, 10 of cups, 9 of wands r.

Your friends think you are a fighter who doesn't give up. They love how you don't dwell on past mistakes. They see you as someone confident and self-assured, passionate, determined, social, extroverted. They see you as someone happy, the life of the party, someone secure and charismatic. They might think you are too stubborn sometimes, too defensive or someone who refuses to compromise.

PILE 9

Signs: Pisces, Leo, Sagittarius / Gem: Green Fluorite / Waxing moon / King of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, Knight of cups

Your friends love how knowledgeable and curious you are. They love how sure you are of what you are doing and where you re headed to. They see you as someone ambitious, safe and kind, someone who is very skillful and helps them a lot. Someone protective and ready to defend their friends at all times. Someone idealistic ready to fight for their ideas, someone charming, tactful, diplomatic, who can mend any fights in the friend group.

[kibblbread]

AK!Jason doesn’t really like anything.. but he really likes spending time with you.

There isn’t much joy in his life, and when he does experience it, it’s pretty hard to tell. Very hard in fact. When Jason is his absolute happiest it’s truly rare that he’s fully conscious or not coming down from a state of extreme distress and panic.

More recent anecdotes of him happily existing involve him waking up or falling asleep alongside you, preventing a loved one from being fatally hurt, or brutalizing soneone that hurts you. Pretty scary, but these aren’t things he wants to acknowledge in the slightest or ever make known to you. External validation is necessary for him to truly feel good at this point in his life, which is something you’re privy to— just not the extent obviously.

When JT is hardly awake or really beginning to fall into what’ll be a comfortable dreamless sleep, he feels safe and secure enough to relax properly. He’s being held, allowed to be perceivably weak in a way that he deems acceptable. He can bury himself deep into the warmth and softness of your body to be protected from the nipping cold of Gotham.

It’s such a special time for him, a sacred moment that he cherishes.

You are his one precious piece of bliss.

Jason doesn’t acknowledge your gentle scalp rubs and lip balm coated kisses outside of a slight tightening of his grasp on your t-shirt. Greedily and lazily claiming his lover and her kind gestures of affection.

This is the most common and most easily detectable example of happiness from Jason. It’s somewhat complex without any explanation but still worth noting to an observant s/o of JT. I think that Jason himself though wouldn’t identify this experience (or lack of) is actually happening beyond him being happy to snuggle every once in a while. Being able to be excited to be touched instead of anxious or irrationally annoyed, it doesn’t occur to himself how often he’s in a nasty mood.

Preventing a loved one from being hurt only gives a small sense of joy that’s usually overshadowed by guilt and anger. The fact that the situation happened in the first place is somehow his own fault in the mind of Jason. But there are times where you’re able to thank him immediately after the fact, those are the times he can feel ego. That pat on the back is always a major surprise to him! Any gratitude he receives in moments so stressful boost his confidence a lot. When you do that he doesn’t have to much time to think about every specific way he fucked up, instead he’s concentrated on rationalizing why you’re complimenting something that in his head could’ve been somehow avoided.

You give him a quick hug and smile up at his faceless red helmet, telling him things could’ve ended terribly if he hadn’t been there. There is a small ping of joy radiate from within his chest. The positive reinforcement of your small affirming touches and verbal encouragement give pause to the harsh self criticisms. While the ultimate core emotions attached to this moment would be some initial surprise and frustration, there will always be a lingering feeling of pride that he got to be your hero.

As for getting a lick-back for your sake, lol, he’s pretty fucked up about it. Whether it be a lowly henchman/gang member or a notorious villain, he doesn’t know when to let up— or if he wants to. Deep down Jason derives a sick sense of joy from maiming people. It’s not his fault, but it’s his responsibility to face this dark and crooked part of himself. He knows it spooks you, it spooks all his loved ones, but he can’t help it can he? He can’t help being the twisted mangled thing Joker forced him to become.

Jason just wants you to feel safe.

He almost never feels safe so this is a favor from him to you of course..

For you to feel safe around a psycho like him.

[redr0sewrites]

Could you do Arkham Knight Jason? Or if not just regular canon Jason, and the things you can unintentionally say to him that would get him hot under the collar? What can you say intentionally to make this man blush like a tomato and have him kicking his feet, sighing dreamily like a schoolgirl when he thinks about it later. Give us your takes on my special bbygirl

🥀A/n: could NOT choose between the two sooooo i added both... teehee!!!

🥀Character(s): Ak!Jason x reader, Jason Todd x reader

🥀Cw: fluff, suggestive, no smut but mentions of sex/praise kink, jason being a liiiiittle horny

🥀minors dni

Jason Todd:

Jason is absolutely whipped for you, any and everything you say makes him fluttery !!! he's disgustingly in love with you and is not afraid to show it

starting off strong for any unintentional comments, any possessive or jealous statements definitely excite him. he would never purposely make you jealous, but Jason can't deny that he finds it attractive when you refer to him as yours. if someone is flirting with him in front of you (and not taking the hint that he is NOT interested) and you interrupt them and say like "thats my boyfriend", Jason nearly giggles!!!

additionally, loves when you call him "my partner", or "my love". anything that depicts him as yours, because yes, he is yours, and you are his. not in a controlling way, but in a "i trust you to give my whole heart to you i love and trust you completely" way

this isn't exactly a comment, but he really appreciates when you defend him? if someone is talking about how he's a murderer or a monster, he certainly doesn't outwardly say anything, but if you speak up about it? he's smiling to himself and blushing like a schoolgirl. Jason would never ask you to defend him, but it's very reassuring to know that you would regardless

when it comes to intentional comments, its even easier to fluster him

flirting, even corny flirting, always makes him very happy. you guys could be married for 12 years with two kids and you using a cringey pickup line still makes him weak in the knees. he loves being romantic with you, and when you are intentionally being romantic in return, it just really affects him positively

sooooo starved for compliments. especially when it comes to his body or looks. after the lazarus pit, his entire body changed. he skipped years of his life, changing from a 15 year old boy to a 19 year old man. he grew in size and strength, and it takes him a while to get used to his body.

it could be as simple as calling him handsome! it just makes Jason feel appreciated and he loves that he appeals to you physically.

i think he's the type to have a bit of a praise kink, so when it comes to compliments, it either makes him really soft and romantic or it takes a different route that leads to the bedroom. he loves praising you, but he really doesn't receive enough praise so it matters a lot to him

COMMENT ON HOW STRONG HE IS AND HOW SAFE HE MAKES YOU FEEL HE WILL MELT. if you say anything along the lines of "being around you makes me feel safe", he will probably cry and makeout with you whaaat who said that 😇 Jason would never want you to be afraid of him, and he cares a lot about your comfort. the idea that he makes you feel safe and comfortable is something he can't understand, and doesn't comprehend how someone as perfect as you could be with him. so please please PLEASE tell him that he makes you feel safe and secure.

Ak!Jason Todd

now Ak!Jason isn't as easy to fluster, simply because he doesn't outwardly show it as much, but he still has a few things that make him tick

when it comes to unintentional things, reassuring him that you'll stay by his side no matter what is a big one. he's lost people, including himself, and he doesn't want to lose you too. reminding Jason that you're going to stay with him, and that you love him unconditionally, is one of the easiest ways to fluster him

another thing that reminds him of how much he loves you is when you shit talk people together. in my opinion, there is nothing more gratifying as someone who's been through abuse than to hear someone else realizing the truth about the people who hurt you. if you started hating on the joker, or criticizing batman's methods, Ak!Jason immediately has heart eyes!!! especially if your animated and funny about it.

if you have any personal vendettas or people you hate, Ak!Jason will gladly join you in venting and ranting. he thinks it's attractive when you compare others to him, claiming that he's so much better than your exes, and ranting on and on about how hot he is and how much better he treats you. he wants to know he's doing a good job, but it's also a bit of a relief that you think highly of him yk? he's also more than willing to make them "disappear" if they're bothering you..

Ak!Jason is more of the jealous type, and would be a lot more into you admitting that you're his than he's yours. if another Big Bad™️ was flirting with you, say for example, Scarecrow, and you respond that you're already taken, or that Ak!Jason is your boyfriend? not only is it a show of your loyalty, but its also really hot in his opinion. he also beats up Scarecrow, but that's irrelevant....!

when it comes to intentional things you can say, this is a bit trickier

like canon Jason, Ak!Jason is a bit insecure about his appearance, especially his scars. if you were to compliment his scars, he wouldn't believe you at first. Ak!Jason does not have much love for himself, and doesn't believe that you can truly see him as attractive when he's so scarred, physically and emotionally. PLEASE compliment his scars, it will not only fluster him but help rebuild his confidence in general

again with compliments, but this time on his efficiency and his skills in general. the work he does is bloody and brutal, and Ak!Jason would never want to scare you. however, if you witnessed him fighting or killing someone (especially in your defense), and complimented him on it? it would probably turn him on a bit ngl. a small part inside of him wants to be your hero, he wants to protect you and keep you safe. if you find it helpful, and even attractive, when he does so, this man is HEAD OVER HEELS in love

bragging about him. yet another intentional turn-on, Ak!Jason loves overhearing you mention to someone else how lucky you are to have him, how strong and brave and wonderful he is, etc. say you both are at some function or other, maybe meeting your family. start bragging about him and watch just how quickly he needs to pull you aside to "talk to you", or how suddenly an excuse comes up and you both have to head home. the fact that you think so highly of him, and would go out of your way to inform others of how much you adore him, is sooooo attractive in his eyes

the last intentional way to fluster Ak!Jason is simple yet effective: i love you. Jason in general is not used to love, but especially Ak!Jason. hearing you say i love you is just so lovely. if you start listing the things you love about him, he will melt. he loves you so, so much, and is so grateful you feel the same

urhrhrhrhrhrh i love him soo much 😭 i need me a Jason Todd smh. i love the idea of Jason w a praise kink, it opens a whole new world of possibilities i swearrrrr. anyways !!! hope u enjoy !!!

[emjayewrites]

the boys trip • jules kounde one shot

SYNOPSIS: Jules gets roped into another one of AK's matchmaking schemes during what was supposed to be a boys' trip to Lapland. Despite his friend's historically terrible taste in setting him up, this time might be different when he meets Y/N. What happens in Lapland should stay in Lapland, but some things may be worth bringing back home. INSPIRED BY: this & this moodboard by my faves!

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!black!reader (Y/N)

WARNINGS: cursing, drinking, smut — 18+ only

WORD COUNT: over 10K, so please show some love!!

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @judesvirtual, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @enretrogue, @yeea-nah @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce, @lev-1-1, @deonn-jaelle, @mufasathatniggatho

The private terminal at Paris Charles de Gaulle was quiet except for AK's pacing and animated phone conversation. Jules slouched further in his leather seat, watching his friend – all confident swagger even at 7 AM, his caesar fade fresh and goatee perfectly lined – sweet-talk his girl in English.

"Baby, just—no, I know security's a pain but— Yes, love, I know…"

Wilhelm caught Jules' eye, his light brown fro slightly squished from the beanie he'd just removed, and they shared a knowing look while Stef and Nas bickered over their usual FIFA argument. Typical morning – Nas pushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes while insisting PSG was clear, Stef's curly fade catching the morning light as he defended Arsenal with his whole chest.

"Elles arrivent dans dix minutes," (They'll be here in ten minutes) AK announced after hanging up, running a hand over his fade. "La sécurité était supplémentaire, apparemment." (Security was being extra, apparently)

"Depuis quand parlez-vous London roadman?" Nas teased. (Since when do you speak London roadman)

"Depuis qu’il a commencé à simper," Stef added, dodging AK's half-hearted swing. (Since he started simping)

Jules stayed quiet, scrolling through Instagram without really seeing it. This season had been kicking his ass, Barcelona's form worse than he'd seen it, and all he'd wanted was a few days with his boys to decompress. No game analysis, no press, no expectations. Just vibes.

When AK had first floated the idea of bringing Van along, Jules had been firmly against it. He got it – long distance was rough, with her in London and AK running his luxury concierge business in Paris. The few times Jules had met her, she'd seemed cool enough, but this trip was supposed to be about escaping everything, including relationship drama, but AK had been persistent.

"Look, I barely see her these days. This trip is the only time that works with our schedules, and..." He'd paused, that look in his eye that always meant trouble. "She's bringing a friend. Might be good for you, get your mind off this season."

The last time AK played matchmaker still haunted him – that disaster in Mykonos last summer with the Instagram model who spent more time staging photos than having actual conversations. Or the "entrepreneur" before that who turned out to just be selling detox teas on social media. His friend meant well, but…he was garbage at picking girls for him.

It wasn't that Jules was picky – okay, maybe he was. But he had standards. He appreciated a natural beauty, curves that didn't come from a surgeon's table in Turkey. Like what was wrong with stretch marks and cellulite? More importantly, he wanted substance. Someone building something real, not just chasing clout or a footballer's lifestyle. His last few hookups had been a wash-rinse-repeat cycle of the same type: beautiful but boring, more interested in being seen with him than seeing him.

"You're too bougie," AK always said. "Too picky."

"I know what I like," was Jules' standard response.

And what he wanted wasn't another Instagram baddie with a BBL and empty conversations. He wanted—

"Oh shit, they're here."

Jules looked up, ready to be annoyed, and...

Oh. Oh.

Van glided in first in her brown faux fur coat and babushka hat, but her friend made Jules sit up straighter. She moved differently – this quiet grace about her as she followed behind. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, baby hairs laid so precisely it looked like art, and when she smiled at AK's introduction, the small gap between her front teeth and deep dimples hit something in Jules' chest.

Her style was effortless – the turtleneck was clearly expensive but not flashy, paired with brown ski leggings, boots, puffer, and gold jewelry. Everything about her seemed intentional but not trying too hard, from her perfect posture to the way her pants hugged her ass just right without being obvious about it.

"Alright," AK said, his whole face lighting up as Van kissed his cheek. "Let me introduce everyone properly. This goddess right here is my girl Vanessa—"

"Van," she corrected with a playful eye roll, her West London accent wrapping around the word.

"Van," AK amended, "and this is her best friend Y/N. Ladies, meet the guys – that's Wilhelm with the fro, Stef and Nas are the ones looking stressed about whatever FIFA argument they're having, and this quiet one right here is Jules."

"Hey!! We about to turn up in Lapland!" Van announced while Y/N just offered a small wave, those long lashes framing eyes that seemed to take everything in quietly.

Jules found himself standing, fixing his Jacquemus sweater without thinking about it. Not that he cared what she thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a flight attendant appeared, perfectly poised in her uniform. "We're ready for boarding."

"Let the ladies through first," AK said.

Van practically bounced up the stairs to the plane. "Oh my days, this is proper bougie!" Her voice carried back down. "Y/N, look at this!"

And then Jules heard it – Y/N's voice, soft and melodic with a lilting British accent that was somehow a bit posh and warm. "It's beautiful," she said simply, and something about the understated appreciation in her tone made his chest tight.

But watching her settle into a seat near the window, pulling out a book (who brings a book on a trip to Lapland?), Jules had to admit – maybe, just maybe, AK wasn't completely fucking up their vacation.

Even if he'd never tell him that.

"You good?" Wilhelm asked quietly in French, catching Jules staring.

"Juste fatigué," Jules replied, but they both knew it was cap.

"Liar," Wilhelm teased under his breath.

"Ta gueule," (Shut up) Jules muttered, but he couldn't help noticing how different Y/N was from Van, who was already talking about the clubs they had to hit. There was something understated about her, the way she moved, the slight smile when she caught him looking.

Fuck.

This was not how this trip was supposed to go. He was supposed to be decompressing, forgetting about his shit season, not noticing how a stranger's collarbones peeked out from her turtleneck or how she smelled like something expensive but subtle as she passed him in the aisle to use the bathroom.

"T'es dans la merde," (You're in trouble) Wilhelm muttered, and Jules couldn't even argue.

Three hours into their seven-hour flight to Rovaniemi, Jules found himself doing that thing he swore he wouldn't do – stealing glances at Y/N from his single seat across the aisle. He'd settled into that classic position – slouched with legs spread, one hand propped on his chin, thumb absently stroking his goatee – trying to look casual while very much not being casual at all.

Van's shriek of laughter cut through the cabin as AK whispered something in her ear in their back twin seats, followed by sounds Jules really didn't need to hear. But Y/N seemed unbothered, completely absorbed in her book – an actual paper book, not just scrolling on her phone like most girls he knew. He caught the title: "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo." That book that was all over TikTok, the one his sister wouldn't shut up about. And was that... a kitten bookmark?

Check box one, he thought. She reads actual books.

The flight attendant moved through the cabin, setting up champagne and an elaborate spread of charcuterie and pastries. Y/N got up gracefully, fixing herself a small plate with careful consideration, and returned to her seat. A small smile played on her lips as she read, and Jules found himself wondering what part of the story caused that reaction.

Stop being a creep, he chided himself. But he couldn't help noticing how her turtleneck hugged her curves, how her crossed legs seemed to go on forever. This could get messy – she was his best friend's girl's best friend after all. But then again, Van brought her for a reason...

Stop being a pussy and just talk to her.

Jules did another scan of the cabin. Nas and Stef were knocked out cold, their light snores creating a gentle backdrop. Wilhelm was lost in his Switch game, probably destroying someone online in Mario Kart. And AK and Van were... yeah, definitely preoccupied.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Jules smoothly stood and slid into the empty seat beside Y/N. She looked up from her book, those long lashes framing curious eyes.

"What's up?" He aimed for cool but heard the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Just getting to the good part," she replied, her soft British accent making even those simple words sound melodic.

"Evelyn Hugo, huh?" He nodded toward the book. "Heard that one's good."

"You've read it?"

"Nah, but my sister's obsessed. Wouldn't stop talking about it in the family group chat."

Y/N's smile deepened, those dimples making an appearance. "It's worth the hype. I'm usually pretty varied with my reading though."

"Yeah? What else you into?"

"Bit of everything really. Some mysteries, biographies..." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "The occasional spicy book."

Jules' eyebrows shot up. "Spicy like...?"

"You ever heard of 'Ice Planet Barbarians'?"

He had – another TikTok famous book, one that had people in the comments wilding about blue aliens and their unrealistically large sex organs.

She's a little freak, huh? "That's, uh..." He cleared his throat. "That's quite a range you got there."

Her laugh was soft but genuine. "Life's too short to stick to one genre, don't you think?"

Something about the way she said it, like she applied that philosophy to more than just books, made Jules lean in slightly. "What else you got on your reading list?"

As Y/N started describing a mix of upcoming reads, Jules found himself actually interested – not just pretending to be interested like he usually did when girls talked. The way her eyes lit up when she discussed her favorites, how she spoke with her hands when explaining particularly complex plots.

"So you're telling me you haven't read any Sally Rooney?" Y/N asked, turning slightly in her seat to face him better.

"Is that the Normal People author?"

"Mm, that's the one." She adjusted her bookmark – definitely a kitten, orange and white – before setting the book aside. "The show was good but the books hit different."

Jules shifted too, his long legs taking up more space than strictly necessary. "I'm more of a music person myself."

"Let me guess..." Y/N studied him for a moment, and something about her direct gaze made him want to fidget. "You've got that look about you. Definitely into fashion, probably listen to Steve Lacy? Kendrick Lamar?"

"Damn, am I that obvious?"

Her smile came with those crater-deep dimples again. "Your sweater's Jacquemus and your shoes are those limited Lewis Hamilton x Dior sneakers. You're either into fashion or you've got a really good stylist."

Now it was Jules' turn to be impressed. Most girls he met only knew the obvious brands, the ones you could easily flex on Instagram. "You know your stuff."

"I work in fashion editorial," she said with a small shrug. "Kind of have to."

Another box checked.

"Editorial?" He leaned forward slightly. "Which magazine?"

"I'm at British Vogue." She tucked a stray baby hair back, the movement drawing his attention to her elegant fingers, no overtly long fake nails in sight. "Junior editor assistant, nothing major yet."

"Nothing major, she says," Jules teased. "Just casually working at one of the biggest fashion magazines in the world."

"What about you? Besides the obvious football career, what gets you excited?"

They fell into an easy conversation about music (they shared a love for Frank Ocean), art (she'd just been to the new Basquiat exhibit he'd been meaning to see), and travel. Y/N had actual opinions, thoughtful ones, not just agreeing with whatever he said like he was used to.

"The vintage shopping there is insane," he said, talking about his time in Japan. "Like this one spot in Harajuku, they had original Raf Simons pieces I'd never seen before. And the food..."

"I've always wanted to go," Y/N said, her eyes lighting up. "The fashion archives alone must be incredible. Plus, I heard they have these cafes where—"

"Where you can drink coffee and play with cats?" Jules finished. "Yeah, they're everywhere. Way better than those fake Instagram spots everyone posts about."

"See, that's what I want to experience. The real culture, not just tourist traps." She tucked another stray baby hair back. "What was your favorite part?"

"This tiny ramen spot in a back alley. No pictures allowed, no social media. Just incredible food and this old man who's been making the same recipe for like forty years."

"That sounds perfect."

"You'd love it," Jules said without thinking. Then, realizing how presumptuous that sounded, added, "I mean..."

But Y/N just smiled. "Maybe I would."

Something about her genuine interest, the way she didn't immediately pull out her phone to check Instagram locations, made Jules sit back and really look at her. "You're dope, you know that?"

The slight flush on her cheeks made something in his chest tighten. "Because I want to eat ramen in back alleys?"

"Because you actually care about the experience. Most people I meet just want the picture for the gram, which is cool but still...I thought you'd be like that."

"Because I'm Van's friend?" She raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Because AK has terrible taste in setting me up."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Y/N's eyebrow arched delicately. "Oh? Is that what this is?"

Fuck. Me.

"I didn't mean—" Jules started, but her soft laugh cut him off.

"Relax. Van already told me about AK's matchmaking attempts." She glanced toward the back where AK and Van were finally sleeping. "The Mykonos story was particularly entertaining."

Jules groaned. "She told you about that?"

"Mm. Something about an Instagram model and a very expensive photoshoot gone wrong?"

"In my defense, I didn't know she'd brought a whole production crew."

Y/N's laugh was worth the embarrassment of reliving that memory. "Well, I can assure you I don't have a glam squad hidden in my carry-on."

"No? Not even a ring light for emergency selfies?"

"The only emergency items I packed are snacks and more books."

Jules felt himself smiling – a real smile, not his usual media-ready one. The kind that actually reached his eyes.

Something shifted in the air between them, the casual conversation taking on a different weight. Y/N held his gaze for a moment before looking away, but Jules caught the slight upturn of her lips.

"We should probably try to sleep," she said finally. "Long day still ahead."

"Right. Yeah." But he didn't move.

"Jules?"

"Mm?"

"That means you have to go back to your seat."

"Oh. Right." He stood, perhaps a bit reluctantly. "Thanks for... you know."

"For not being an Instagram model with a production crew?"

His laugh was soft. "Something like that."

As he settled back into his own seat, Jules couldn't help stealing one more glance. Y/N had already reopened her book, but he swore he saw her smile widen slightly.

Definitely in trouble.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're beginning our descent into Rovaniemi Airport."

Jules blinked awake from his nap, the seven-hour flight having passed quicker than expected. Maybe because of that conversation... He pushed the thought away, stretching in his seat as the plane started its descent through snow-heavy clouds.

The landing was smooth, and Jules watched as Y/N stood to thank both flight attendants by name – Marie and Sophie – even asking about Sophie's baby she'd mentioned during meal service. She did the same with the pilots, genuine appreciation in her voice.

Another box checked.

The whole "be nice to service staff" thing wasn't exactly groundbreaking, but there was something about the way she did it – not performing kindness for an audience, just being genuinely thoughtful – that hit different.

Lapland's winter air slapped different too, the kind of cold that made him grateful for his cashmere beanie as they descended the plane stairs. He wasn't trying to be creepy, walking behind Y/N, but when her foot caught that patch of ice and she started to slip... his hands found her waist automatically.

"You good?"

She steadied herself, this little embarrassed laugh escaping. "Yeah, just... can I get a rewind button? Because that was embarrassing as fuck."

Something about the way she said it, like she was annoyed at herself but trying to play it cool, made him chuckle. "Consider it deleted from the record."

Their luggage situation was borderline ridiculous – his three suitcases for a week's worth of fits, her matching his energy with her own collection of bags.

"Someone came prepared," he couldn't help teasing, watching her oversee the arrangement of her bags on the cart.

Her smile was playful, dimples making another appearance. "Don't judge me. A girl needs options for the Instagram dump."

"Nah, that's actually valid. Fit pics are essential."

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "You bring your whole camera crew or something?"

"Just my Nikon and a drone."

She nudged his shoulder, the contact brief but enough to make him hyper-aware of her presence. "But not a whole production crew?"

Ah, she got jokes... "Listen," he said, trying to keep his face serious. "You can't disrespect the Northern Lights with iPhone quality. That's just wrong."

"Mhmmmm." The way she nodded, all exaggerated understanding, shouldn't have been as cute as it was. "Very professional of you."

"Y/N!" Van's voice cut through whatever was building between them. "Stop flirting and come on, we need to get through customs!"

The customs line crawled by, but Jules found himself not minding, especially when Y/N would catch his eye and they'd share silent amusement at Van's increasing dramatics about the wait.

Their driver was posted up at arrivals with a sign for AK's company – "1 Pourcent Concierge" in sleek lettering because AK never missed a branding opportunity. The private coach was exactly what you'd expect from someone whose whole business was luxury experiences, complete with a mini bar that Van spotted immediately.

"Time to get this party started!" She was already reaching for bottles.

Wilhelm checked his phone, looking tired. "It's 2 in the afternoon."

"We're on vacation!" Van started lining up shots like they were at Tape London instead of just landing in the Arctic Circle. "Stop being a party pooper!"

Jules watched Y/N slip to the back of the bus, pulling out that same book from earlier. He must have been staring because Wilhelm's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Je ne sais pas pourquoi tu fais semblant de ne pas vouloir la rejoindre," Wilhelm said low enough that only Jules could hear. (I don't know why you're pretending you don't want to go join her)

Stef, never one to miss an opportunity to clown him, snorted. "Tu sais que Jules est timide." (You know Jules is shy.)

Jules flipped him off, but Stef just grinned wider.

"I'm chilling," Jules said, but even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded.

"Bullshit," Wilhelm and Stef chorused.

"I don't want to do too much," Jules tried to explain. "Nous venons de parler dans l’avion. Si j’y retourne maintenant..." (We just talked on the plane. If I go back there now)

"Quoi, elle pensera que tu es intéressé?" Stef's eye roll was Olympic-level. "Assez sûr que le navire a navigué, mon frère." (What, she'll think you're interested…Pretty sure that ship has sailed)

"Merde, si tu ne veux pas lui parler..." Nas dramatically ran his fingers through his hair, preening. "I will."

Before Jules could say anything, Nas was heading toward the back of the bus. At that exact moment, Van cranked up some Drake song and started twerking.

Jules pulled out his noise-canceling AirPods with what might have been the biggest eye roll of his life. He tried to focus on Frank Ocean instead of the way Y/N's laugh carried from the back of the bus – probably at something Nas said, which shouldn't have annoyed him but did.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, they were pulling up to their home for the week. The cabin was crazy in the best way – all floor-to-ceiling windows and modern wooden architecture that somehow managed to look both cozy and expensive as hell. The deck wrapped around the whole structure, perfect for Northern Lights viewing, not that he was already thinking about how that could play out.

"Ladies first," he said as they entered, immediately regretting it when Van's excited shriek pierced his eardrums.

"Come on, Y/N!" Van grabbed her friend's hand. "Let's check out the rooms before these boys mess them up!"

Y/N shot Jules an apologetic look as she was dragged upstairs, and he had to fight back a smile. Van's "Oh my god, this one has a FIREPLACE!" echoed down the stairs, followed by Y/N's softer laugh that was already becoming way too familiar.

"T'es foutu," Wilhelm said, clapping Jules on the shoulder as he passed. (You're screwed.)

_______________________________________________

The den of their cabin was peak luxury winter vibes – all exposed wooden beams showing off the snowy landscape, but Jules was barely registering any of it. They'd been killing time until dinner, everyone doing their own thing. Wilhelm was in his gaming zone, Nas and Stef were arguing about upcoming Premier League matches, and AK was texting someone about work because he never really stopped working.

And Y/N? She was upstairs napping, which shouldn't have annoyed him but kind of did. Not that he needed her around, but her presence would've been better than Van's constant complaints about her nails not being done right or whatever else she was going on about before she got ready for dinner.

Jules had nothing against Van. She made AK happy, even if sometimes he wondered how his boy dealt with… all that. But not his woman, not his problem.

The sound of heels on wooden stairs made everyone look up. Van strutted – literally strutted – down in what had to be the tiniest leather dress Jules had ever seen.

"Babe, it's negative twenty-three degrees," AK said, though his eyes said he wasn't exactly mad about the outfit.

Van gave him a look. "I know, that's why I got the fur coat."

"What fur coat—" Jules began, but the words died in his throat because that's when Y/N appeared.

Holy fuck.

She'd let her hair down from that bun, now styled in a middle part with curls. Her own outfit was giving winter goddess – some maroon designer dress he couldn't even focus on because his brain was short-circuiting, and yeah, she was carrying two fur coats.

"Thank god!" Stef broke the moment. "I'm starving!"

The bus ride to the igloo restaurant should've been awkward, but Jules found himself sliding into the seat next to Y/N before he could overthink it.

"Good nap?" he asked, aiming for casual.

"Mm, needed it." Her smile was soft, sleep-warm. "These time zones are killing me."

"Wait till tomorrow when we go snowmobiling. Wilhelm's already talking about racing."

"Oh yeah?" She turned slightly toward him. "You any good on a snowmobile?"

"Better than Nas. Man crashed three times last time we went."

"I heard that," Nas called from behind them. "And it was twice, respect the facts."

The igloo was something else – set in the middle of a forest clearing, stars scattered above them like diamonds. No Northern Lights yet, but the sky was doing its own kind of magic.

Their chef appeared – this older Finnish man with kind eyes – and started describing the courses. "Tonight we're working with what nature provides. Our first course is foraged mushrooms with…"

"For the main," he continued later, "we have local reindeer—"

"Not Rudolph!" Van's gasp was theatrical.

Jules caught Y/N biting back a smile as the chef patiently offered, "We also have freshly caught Arctic char—"

Van opened her mouth again but AK's "Babe, chill" shut it for her.

The waiters moved around them with practiced grace, pouring wine that Y/N examined with actual knowledge – doing that little swirl thing, checking the color against the candlelight.

Jules found himself watching her, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, until she caught him staring.

"I see you, wine connoisseur," he said, enjoying the slight flush on her cheeks.

"You know your wines?"

"Got a few favorites. This Bordeaux that'll change your life, and this Spanish one in my cellar that you should try out." He let the invitation hang there.

Y/N almost choked on her sip. "Are we flirting?"

Jules just shrugged, taking a deliberate sip of his own wine, but he couldn't quite hide his smile.

"So tomorrow," Wilhelm was saying, "we got the snowmobiles booked for eleven—"

"After breakfast at our villa," Stef added.

"Then ice fishing in the evening," Nas continued. "Unless you guys are scared of the cold."

"Please," Van scoffed. "I'm from London, we invented cold."

"That's… not how weather works, babes," Y/N said quietly, just for Jules to hear, and his laugh came out before he could stop it.

The first course arrived – something beautiful with mushrooms and herbs that looked like art. Jules watched Y/N take her first bite, the way her eyes closed slightly in appreciation.

The wine was taking its effect – or maybe it was just her. Jules found himself getting bolder with each course, his hand occasionally brushing Y/N's shoulder when he leaned in to talk, letting his touches linger a bit longer than strictly necessary. The igloo's candlelight did something magical to her skin, and he kept catching himself staring.

"You're staring again," she murmured during the fourth course, some elaborate fish dish he wasn't even tasting anymore.

"Can't help it." The wine made him honest. "You're nice to look at."

Her laugh was soft, private. "The wine's making you brave."

Van's loud giggle cut through their moment – she was properly drunk now, hanging off AK's arm and talking about something he didn’t care for. Y/N caught Jules' eye and they shared a silent laugh.

Their driver met them outside the igloo after they finished their meal, warning them about an incoming snowstorm. "Nothing serious, but better to be inside tonight."

Once they got back to the villa, Van took this as her cue, practically dragging AK upstairs the moment they got inside. "Help me with this dress, baby!"

"Sauna?" Wilhelm suggested to the guys.

Stef and Nas were already heading that way, but Jules' attention was caught by Y/N slipping off her heels, heading toward the stairs.

"Not tonight," he said, not even trying to be subtle anymore.

"Get it, bro," Wilhelm teased.

Jules shot him a look but was already following Y/N up the stairs.

She sensed him behind her, turning with this little smile. "You stalking me?"

"Psssh, what? No." He laughed nervously, suddenly aware he might be coming on too strong. Wine drunk Jules was always a menace. He needed to chill.

But then she hit him with this smile that was pure trouble. "Wanna hang in the jacuzzi?"

Fuck yes.

"Bet."

He practically ran to his room, yanking off his sweater and digging through his suitcase for his trunks. A quick shower, his robe, those Ugg slippers he'd never admit to loving, and he was back downstairs starting up the jacuzzi.

Wine. Need wine.

He grabbed a fresh bottle and glasses, setting them up on the ledge just as Y/N appeared at the doorway. And – oh.

Her robe slipped off to reveal this black bikini that was definitely designed to kill men on sight. The way she eased into the hot water, sighing at the temperature, had his hormones going insane.

"This is perfect," she said, tilting her head back.

Jules slipped in across from her, trying to keep his eyes respectful even though that bikini was making it difficult. The wine made it easy to talk, to laugh, to gradually move closer until their legs were almost touching under the water.

"You're different," he found himself saying.

"Different how?"

"Just… real. Not trying to be anything else."

Her eyes met his in the dim light. "Maybe you're just used to people playing games."

"Maybe." He was definitely closer now, close enough to see water droplets on her eyelashes. "Or maybe you're just special."

The moment stretched between them, heavy with possibility. Then Y/N's hand found his under the water, and that was all the invitation he needed.

The first kiss was soft, testing. But then her fingers slid into his dreads, and he was gone. Her lips soft but demanding against his, and he pulled her closer as the kiss deepened.

They broke apart for air, but he couldn't stop, pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Her quiet gasp when he found a sensitive spot had him tightening his grip on her waist.

"Jules," she breathed, and his name had never sounded better.

He captured her lips again, slower this time but no less intense. Everything else faded – the sound of the jacuzzi, even the wine forgotten on the ledge. There was just this, just her, just the way she fit perfectly against him.

When they finally pulled apart, staying close enough to share breath, Y/N laughed softly. "Definitely better than the sauna, huh?"

Jules grinned, stealing another quick kiss. "Definitely worth it."

"High praise."

"You have no idea."

Who would've thought the quiet girl who reads would be the one leaving everyone in her snow dust?

Jules watched Y/N zip ahead on her snowmobile, her all-white ski fit with that polka dot puffer making her look like some winter fashion editorial come to life. But it was the way she handled the machine – confident, fearless – that had him thinking about last night. About how those same hands that gripped the handlebars had been in his dreads, about how that mouth, which was now hidden behind the black helmet, had felt against his…

"Keep up!" she called back, and yeah, he was definitely in deep trouble.

They stopped at this clearing that looked like something out of a Christmas card – untouched snow stretching for miles, mountains in the background. While AK set up the drone for aerial shots, Van immediately started on what she claimed would be "the baddest snowman in Lapland."

Jules found himself drifting toward Y/N like she had her own gravitational pull. She was adjusting her helmet, cheeks flushed from the cold and the speed.

"Didn't expect you to be such a speed demon," he said, reaching out to fix a strand of hair that had escaped her helmet.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet." That smile again, the one that made his stomach flip.

"Yet?" He stepped closer. "That mean I get to find out more?"

"Maybe." She looked up at him through those lashes. "If you play your cards right."

The others were occupied – Van directing AK on proper snowman architecture, Nas trying to get Wilhelm to race him again, Stef actually getting decent drone footage – when Jules decided to shoot his shot.

"Skip ice fishing with me?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And do what instead?"

"Thought we could chill at the villa instead? Unless you're really excited about sitting on ice for hours…"

"Trying to get me alone?"

His laugh was low. "Is it working?"

Later, the group visited the small village of Levi, and Van pulled Y/N into some boutique, leaving Jules to deal with his boys' inevitable commentary. They found a coffee shop, and Jules knew from AK's face this conversation was coming.

"So," AK said, that smug look taking over his features. "Nous allons en parler?"

"Parler de quoi?" (Talk about what?)

"À propos de la façon dont je suis le meilleur ailier de tous les temps? À propos de la façon dont mes compétences en matière de jumelage sont d’élite?" (About how I'm the best wingman ever? About how my matchmaking skills are elite?)

Stef rolled his eyes. "L’élite? Après cette catastrophe de Mykonos?" (Elite? After that Mykonos disaster?)

"Ou cette fille à Ibiza," Wilhelm added.

"Ou l’entrepreneur en thé détox," Nas chimed in.

"Vos compétences de jumelage sont généralement nulles," Jules corrected, though he couldn't help smiling. "C’est clairement une consade." (Your matchmaking skills are usually trash. This is clearly a fluke)

"Et qu'en est-il quand tu l'as embrassée dans le jacuzzi?" (And what about when you kissed her in the jacuzzi?)

Jules nearly choked in his coffee. "Comment as-tu fait—" (You guys saw that?)

"S’il-vous-plaît," Wilhelm cut in. "Toute la cabine a des fenêtres, génie." (The whole cabin has windows, genius)

"Et Van t’a vu en route pour piller le réfrigérateur," AK added. (And Van saw you on her way to raid the fridge)

"Et Nas espionnait depuis le sauna," Stef said. (And Nas spying from the sauna)

"Surveillance!" Nas corrected. "Je menait à la surveillance." (I was surveilling)

"Vous êtes trop les gars," Jules muttered, but he was fighting a smile.(You guys are too much)

"Admettez-le," AK pressed. "J’ai bien fait cette fois-ci." (Admit it, I did well this time)

"Je n’admets rien." (Im not admitting anything)

"Ton visage admet tout," Wilhelm said. "Tu brilles comme un adolescent avec son premier béguin." (Your face admits everything. You shining like a teenager with their first crush)

Before Jules could defend himself, the girls returned loaded with bags, and damn if Y/N didn't look good with snowflakes in her hair.

_______________________________________________

Their guide showed up for the ice fishing expedition, and Van's parting shot to Y/N was pure Van: "Have fun getting your back blown out!"

"She's something else," Jules muttered as the others left.

"That's one way to put it." Y/N was already heading toward the kitchen. "So, what's the plan?"

The plan turned into Jules showing off his cooking skills – nothing fancy, just some pasta aglio e olio and garlic bread, but the way Y/N watched him cook made him feel like a master chef.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" she asked, perched on the counter while he worked.

"My mum. Said no son of hers was going to survive on takeaway." He handed her a taste of the sauce. "Good?"

Her eyes closed slightly as she tasted it. "Mm, perfect."

They ended up in the den, fire crackling, talking about everything and nothing. About that club Van was insisting they hit for New Year's ("It's Lapland, how lit can it be?"), about Y/N's job at Vogue ("The Devil Wears Prada lied, it's actually worse"), about Jules' family in France and Benin.

"You're really not that bad," Y/N said suddenly.

"Where’s this coming from?"

"From what I expected. From what Van said."

"Van talks about me?"

Y/N's laugh was soft. "She tried to warn me you were shy. Said you'd probably just brood in corners looking pretty."

"And?" He shifted closer.

"And…" Her eyes dropped to his lips. "You're definitely pretty."

This kiss was different from last night – slower, more deliberate. Like they had all the time in the world to explore this thing between them. His hand found that spot on her neck that made her sigh, and her fingers was back in his dreads.

Yeah, maybe AK's matchmaking skills weren't completely trash after all.

Jules couldn't stop kissing Y/N if he tried, each kiss deeper than the last, more urgent. His hand found its way into her hair, curls falling loose from her updo.

Everything had shifted, like the whole universe was conspiring to make this moment happen. Y/N pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, "Do you want to come up?"

"Yeah." He tried to play it cool, but his mind was going absolutely crazy. HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. Here he was, Jules Koundé, known for being calm and composed in front of 90,000 people at Camp Nou, completely losing it over six words from this girl.

Following Y/N upstairs felt like torture in the best way. She moved with this effortless grace that had him mesmerized, throwing these looks over her shoulder that was sin – half shy, half something else that made his stomach flip.

When her door finally clicked shut behind them, the air felt electric with possibility. Jules stood still, his dark eyes tracing the curve of Y/N's silhouette as she leaned back against the door. She reached up to pull the last pin from her updo, letting her curls tumble free. Jules swore he forgot how to breathe.

"You look nervous," Y/N said softly, her voice light, teasing, as she stepped closer, her bare feet barely making a sound against the floor.

"Do I?" Jules asked, his voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat, but the way her hands brushed against his chest when she closed the space between them made it impossible to care.

"A little," she said, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, pulling him closer. "I like it, though. Makes me feel powerful."

Jules huffed out a laugh, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against him. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe." She tilted her head, her lips brushing against his.

That was all it took for him to close the distance, his mouth slanting over hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Y/N sighed into it, her arms winding around his neck as his hands explored the curve of her back, her hips, the warmth of her skin beneath the material of her clothing.

He backed her toward the bed, his fingers trailing down to the hem of her thermal top, pushing it up to reveal the soft skin of her stomach. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, Y/N pulled him down with her, their laughter mingling with their heavy breathing.

"You're in such a hurry," she teased when they broke apart for air.

"Can you blame me?" Jules smirked, his hands sliding over her hips, fingers hooking into the band of her leggings.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with another kiss, deep and deliberate, his tongue brushing against hers. His hands worked her leggings down, the fabric clinging stubbornly until he finally peeled them away, leaving her in just a simple pair of black underwear and the thermal top pushed up to her ribs.

"You’re stunning," Jules murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, as his gaze roamed over her.

Y/N smiled, reaching for him. "Your turn."

Jules obliged, pulling off his sweater in one swift motion, the muscles in his chest and arms catching the light in a way that made her breath catch. He leaned back down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, earning a soft gasp as her hands roamed his back.

The thermal bunched higher as his kisses trailed down her neck and across her collarbone, his fingers skimming along the edge of her panties. Y/N arched into him, her nails grazing his skin lightly, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest.

When she reached for the button of his pants, Jules caught her wrist, his eyes dark and hooded. "Slow down," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. "We’ve got all night."

Y/N grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. "Then you’d better make it worth it."

Jules took his time, his hands tracing over Y/N's curves with a slowness that had her squirming beneath him. His fingers slid her panties down her legs, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of her as more of her was revealed.

Her arousal glistened between her thighs and Jules felt his stomach tighten at the sight.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. He pulled back just enough to sit up, his dreads falling forward, framing his face as he looked at her.

His gaze took in the soft rise and fall of her chest, her thermal pushed up to just beneath her breasts. "This has to go," he said, his voice teasing as his fingers tugged at the hem of the fabric. She lifted her arms, letting him pull it over her head, and then he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. The garment fell away, baring her to him entirely.

Jules let out a slow breath. Her breasts were full, her nipples pebbled, and he couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to the swell of one, his lips brushing her skin softly before moving lower.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips dragging a path across her stomach. His eyes dipped back down, lingering between her thighs. "And this—" He ran a finger along the slickness there, grinning when she shivered. "So pretty. I need to have a taste."

Y/N flushed, her breath hitching as she propped herself up on her elbows to meet his gaze. "I’ve never met a guy who actually liked giving head," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, though there was a teasing lilt in it.

Jules raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something almost wicked. "You've been messing around with the wrong niggas, cherie," he said, shaking his head as if it were an absolute tragedy. He settled himself between her thighs, his hands gently coaxing them wider. "Don't worry. We're gonna change that."

His words sent a shiver through her, her anticipation building as his lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Jules," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"Relax," he said, glancing up at her, his eyes filled with heat and something softer beneath it. "I've got you."

Not to brag because, honestly, it wasn't his style, but this was his thing. Eating pussy was state-of-the-art to him, an art form he'd mastered, a skill that had left more than a few women crashing out over it. He took pride in it, sure, but it wasn't just about being good at it. He enjoyed it. The taste, the sounds, the way a woman’s body responded when he knew exactly what to do — it was intoxicating.

And Y/N? She was a masterpiece. The way her body trembled, her soft gasps, and the way she shifted her hips as if seeking him out — she was an active participant, not someone who held back. It made every second feel electric, like a performance where they were both in perfect sync.

Another box checked. She was fucking perfect.

That thought hovered in his mind for a beat too long, a flash of something deeper creeping in, and he shoved it away. This wasn’t about feelings. Not right now. Right now, he had a job to do. So he got to work.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above her center, letting his breath ghost over her. His tongue followed, a slow swipe that had her hips jerking upward. "Relax, cherie," he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and tinged with amusement.

She whimpered softly, her thighs quivering against his hands as he pushed them farther apart. His tongue explored her folds with purpose, slow and teasing at first, mapping every inch of her like he had all the time in the world, but when her moans grew louder, more urgent, he picked up the pace, alternating between long, languid strokes and focused flicks of his tongue against her clit.

"Jules," she gasped, her hands diving into his dreads, holding on for dear life as he worked her over.

He hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt through her body. Her hips bucked, and he grinned, tightening his grip on her thighs to hold her still. "You're so fucking responsive," he said, his voice muffled as he dove back in.

She moaned again, her body writhing against him, and Jules felt a rush of pride — and hunger. He wasn’t stopping until she was completely undone, every thought wiped clean except for him and what he was doing to her.

Her breathing hitched, turning into desperate little gasps, her thighs trembling around his head. "That’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against her. "Let go for me."

And when she did — her back arching, a cry spilling from her lips, her body shaking with the force of it — Jules couldn’t help but smile. He’d always enjoyed this part, watching the aftermath, the way a woman's body melted into the mattress, chest heaving and cheeks flushed.

"See?" he said, his voice warm and teasing as he kissed his way back up her body. "Told you we were gonna change that." Jules brushed a kiss against Y/N’s lips, still tasting her arousal on his tongue, before pulling back. His voice was soft but charged as he asked, "Got a condom?"

Y/N nodded, her breath still uneven. "In my tote bag. Corner of the room."

He gave her another quick kiss, playful and lingering, before sliding off the bed. She watched him stride over to the tote, his movements unhurried, almost teasing, as if he knew exactly what kind of show he was putting on.

When he crouched down and opened the bag, his smirk widened. "What do we have here?" he mused, holding up a sleek vibrator with a raised brow.

"Oh, my God," Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Put that back, Jules."

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and dropped the vibrator back into the bag. "No judgment. Just saying we might have to use this some other time."

She peeked out from between her fingers. "You’re ridiculous."

"Mm, you like it," he shot back, pulling out the pack of Trojans. He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk turning downright sinful. "Found what I was looking for."

He walked back toward her, the condom packet in one hand and her gaze traveled down, taking in the way he casually shucked off his pants, then his boxer briefs, until he stood completely bare in front of her, his arousal standing proud and unashamed.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly and she had that usual smile on her face.

He tore open the packet with his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as he sheathed himself. The deliberate way he rolled the condom on, his movements smooth and precise, sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

Jules caught the way her thighs shifted on the bed, the way her teeth caught her bottom lip, and his grin softened into something deeper, more intimate. "You good, cherie?" he asked, his voice warm and genuine as he climbed back onto the bed.

Y/N nodded, her fingers reaching out to touch him, to pull him closer. "I’m good," she murmured.

Y/N was bringing out something else entirely in him. Something raw. Something freaky. And honestly? It was only right. If she was going to let her inner freak shine, Jules had no problem meeting her there. He had a feeling, though—there was something about the way she smiled, all soft and sweet, but with that glint in her eyes that promised trouble.

He stayed between her legs, his gaze dragging over her like she was a masterpiece he couldn’t stop studying, like he wasn’t in any rush. Jules had patience, especially when the reward was something like this.

"You’re bad, you know that?" he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands slid up her thighs.

Y/N smirked, her eyes half-lidded. "And you’re just figuring this out?"

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, I’ve been clocking it. Just didn’t realize how bad."

His hands gripped her thighs a little firmer, pulling her closer so he could line himself up. The slick heat of her against him was enough to make his head tip back for a second, eyes closing as he gathered himself. When he looked at her again, she was watching him with that little smile, her legs shifting to hook around his waist.

Yeah, she’s definitely a freak.

He liked that. A lot.

"Say the word, cherie," Jules murmured, his voice softer now, the teasing edge melting into something deeper.

Y/N didn’t hesitate, her hands sliding up his arms, her nails grazing his skin. "Do it."

That was all he needed. Slowly, he pushed into her, taking his time, letting her feel every inch. The way her body tensed, then melted beneath him, had his heart pounding in his chest.

"Shit, Y/N," he muttered, pausing once he was fully inside her, giving her a moment to adjust. "You’re... God, you’re perfect."

She exhaled shakily, her hands gripping his shoulders as she shifted beneath him. "You can move," she said, her voice breathy but certain.

Jules smiled, something almost wicked flashing in his eyes as he pulled back, then thrust forward again, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm.

It wasn’t long before her moans filled the room, soft and then louder, her hands roaming over his back, her nails digging into his skin in a way that had him groaning. "Damn," he said, his tone full of admiration. "You like that, huh?"

She nodded, biting her lip to stifle another moan, but Jules wasn’t having that. "Don’t hold back," he said, his voice firm but still warm. "I want to hear you."

He picked up the pace, his hips snapping against hers in a way that had the bed creaking under them. Y/N met him thrust for thrust, her body arching, her legs pulling him closer, deeper.

"Jules," she gasped, her voice trembling but filled with so much need it sent a shiver down his spine.

"Yeah, cherie?" he said, leaning down to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

"You’re gonna ruin me," she whispered, her voice full of awe and teasing all at once.

Jules chuckled, his forehead pressing against hers as his thrusts grew deeper, more intense. "Good," he said, his voice dropping to a growl. "Let me show you how it’s supposed to be."

And oh, he did.

The intimacy of missionary was something he didn’t take lightly—he liked being able to look her in the eyes, to see the way her lips parted and her head tilted back as he rocked into her.

Her breath hitched with each thrust, her nails raking lightly down his back, leaving faint trails that hurt in the best way. Jules dropped his head, kissing along her jaw, her neck, then catching her lips in a kiss so heated it felt like it could burn the room down.

But as much as he loved this—her chest pressed against his, her thighs gripping his sides—his thoughts kept drifting. He couldn’t ignore the temptation of something he’d been eyeing for far too long.

Since they’d left Paris, Jules had been trying not to be a complete dog about it, but damn. Y/N’s ass was something else. Every time she walked ahead of him, he found his gaze following the sway of her hips, the way those leggings hugged her perfectly.

And now? Thank God.

"Turn over for me," Jules murmured.

Y/N blinked up at him, dazed but smiling, and she nodded, biting her lip as she shifted beneath him. Jules helped her, his hands guiding her onto her stomach, then pulling her hips up until she was on all fours.

And there it was.

His breath caught for a moment, his hands gripping her waist as he took in the view. "Damn, cherie," he whispered, his voice thick with appreciation. "This fucking ass."

She laughed, glancing back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed. "You like it?"

"Yeah," Jules said, smirking as his hands slid over her hips, his thumbs pressing into the dimples of her lower back. "And now I get to see it properly."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of her back, then one to each cheek, his goatee grazing her skin, making her shiver. He took his time, his hands roaming, gripping, appreciating every inch of her.

When he finally lined himself up and thrust back into her, the angle hit different—for both of them. Y/N gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets, her back arching as he set a steady rhythm, his hands on her hips keeping her steady.

"Fuck," Jules muttered, his voice rough, his movements deliberate but powerful. He watched the way her body moved with him, the way her ass bounced with each thrust. It was hypnotizing.

"You good?" Y/N asked, her voice breathless, teasing.

Jules chuckled, leaning forward just enough to press a kiss to her shoulder, his chest brushing against her back. "Better than good," he said, his voice low in her ear. "You feel like heaven, cherie."

Her laugh turned into a moan as he adjusted his angle, hitting deeper, harder. Jules was relentless but attentive, listening to every sound she made, every shift in her body, making sure she felt as much pleasure as he did.

And as much as Jules was enjoying the view—and he really was—it was the sounds she made, the way she responded to him, that had him losing his mind. Every moan, every gasp, every whispered "Jules" was fuel, driving him to keep going, to give her more.

"Perfect," he groaned, his voice almost reverent as he tightened his grip on her hips, thrusting harder. "You’re fucking perfect."

"Ooh fuck, Jules....yes."

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to that precipice with each thrust. She felt so good, better than he could imagine, and when her moans began to turn into screams...yeah...he prayed that no one heard them.

They finally came, her orgasming first and then him immediately after. Both of them still catching their breath, hearts beating a little faster than normal. Jules looked down at Y/N as his sweaty body slumped over hers.

"You're something else, Y/N," Jules said, his voice low but filled with admiration as he moved away to dispose of the condom.

She chuckled softly, rolling onto her side and facing him. "I could say the same about you."

The moment felt calm, peaceful almost, and for once, there was no rush. Jules stroked her hair gently as he lay next to her, the space between them filled with a comfortable silence.

Y/N reached up, brushing her lips softly against his, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "So... what happens now?" she asked, her eyes playful but still searching for some sort of direction.

"I guess we just chill then maybe another round," he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jules woke up to sunlight streaming through Y/N's bedroom windows, the snow outside making everything look bright white and clean. Inside though? Inside was all warmth – her room somehow perfectly heated (unlike his ice box down the hall), and Y/N's bare skin pressed against his under her ridiculously soft sheets.

He couldn't help smirking a little, remembering last night. Everything had gone exactly as he'd hoped when he followed her upstairs, that confidence he usually saved for the pitch coming in clutch.

Now here he was, watching her sleep and feeling pretty good about himself. She looked different like this – all soft edges and messy curls, evidence of their night together in her slightly smudged makeup and the marks he'd left on her neck.

"Stop staring," she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Not staring." He was definitely staring. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how you stole all the covers in the middle of the night."

She cracked one eye open. "Lies and slander. I'm a perfect sleeping companion."

"You literally kicked me."

"You were hogging the bed!"

"It's a king size bed!"

Her laugh was still morning-rough, and something about it made his stomach do that flip thing again. She stretched, the movement doing interesting things to the sheet's positioning, and – he was staring again.

"Like what you see?"

"You fishing for compliments this early?"

"Maybe." She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him with those eyes that got him into this situation in the first place. "Is it working?"

Instead of answering, he pulled her down for a kiss. She tasted so good and when she made that little sound in the back of her throat...

A loud bang on the door made them jump apart.

"Y/N!" Van's voice carried through the wood. "Stop riding Jules and come get breakfast! We got husky sledding in an hour!"

Y/N groaned, burying her face in Jules' chest. "I'm going to murder her."

"I'll help hide the body."

"My hero."

They lay there for another moment, his hand playing with her hair, neither wanting to break the bubble they'd created. Outside, he could hear the others moving around – Van's loud laugh, AK telling someone to hurry up, the clatter of plates downstairs.

"We should probably..."

"Yeah."

But neither moved.

"Or we could just stay here," Y/N suggested, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest that were very distracting.

"Tempting." He caught her hand before it could wander lower. "But if we don't show up, Van will absolutely break down that door."

"Ugh, fine." She sat up, the sheet falling away, and – oh.

"You're making it really hard to be responsible right now."

Her smile was pure trouble. "I can see just how hard it is."

"You're terrible."

"You like it."

And yeah, maybe he did. Maybe he liked a lot of things about this girl who read actual books and drove snowmobiles like a pro and kissed like she meant it. Maybe he was in trouble in the best possible way.

But first: breakfast. And then huskies. And then... well, they had time to figure out the rest.

Jules pulled on his clothes from last night, unable to keep the satisfied smile off his face as Y/N disappeared into her en suite. The sound of her shower starting up had him thinking dangerous thoughts, but nah – they needed to actually make it to breakfast.

His own room felt weirdly cold and unfamiliar after the warmth of Y/N's bed. Quick shower, fresh clothes, trying and failing not to think about last night while he got ready. By the time he made it downstairs, Y/N was already at the breakfast table looking way too good in her red puffer, black ski pants hugging curves he now knew intimately. Those Moon Boots shouldn't have been cute but somehow were.

Their villa's chef had outdone himself – full spread of everything from eggs benedict to fresh pastries, fruit platters that looked like art. Y/N was already nursing a coffee, and the way she smiled at him over the rim of her cup had him remembering exactly how she'd smiled last night when—

"Earth to Jules," Stef called out, snapping him back to reality. "You want the last croissant or can I have it?"

Y/N slid the pastry toward Jules with a wink that definitely meant trouble. "Better fuel up. Long day ahead."

Van’s eyebrows raised in pique interest as she drank her mimosa.

The bus ride to the husky farm should've been chill, but Van immediately dragged Y/N to sit with her, that look in her eye that meant interrogation was coming. Jules caught Y/N's slightly panicked look and had to laugh – she was about to get the full Van experience.

"So," he heard Van start as he settled in his own seat. "Don't leave out any details..."

The husky farm was everything the brochures promised – dozens of excited dogs practically bouncing in their harnesses, their breath visible in the cold morning air. But Jules was only half listening to Erik, their guide, explain the basics of sledding. He kept getting distracted by Y/N's animated conversation with Van a few feet away.

"—and then he did WHAT?" Van's voice carried, way too loud.

Y/N's eyes met his across the snow, this little smile playing at her lips that had him remembering exactly what he'd done.

"Focus, lover boy," Wilhelm muttered, elbowing him. "Unless you want to crash into a tree."

Erik paired them up – two per sled – and obviously Jules ended up with Y/N. Obviously Van made some comment about "riding" that had AK trying not to laugh while pretending to scold her.

"You good?" Jules asked as Y/N settled into the front of their sled, his hands on her hips maybe lingering longer than necessary as he helped her in.

"Better than good." She looked back at him with that smile that was becoming dangerous for his mental health. "Though a bit sore."

Before he could respond to that loaded comment, the dogs took off, their excited barking filling the crisp air as they raced through the snow.

The dogs pulled them through this winter wonderland that didn't seem real – all pristine snow and frosted trees, sunlight making everything sparkle. But Jules was more focused on how Y/N kept leaning back against him, the way she fit perfectly between his arms as he held the reins.

"This is incredible!" she called back, turning her head just enough that he could see her profile, cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

"The dogs or my steering skills?"

"Both." She settled more firmly against him. "Though I think I could drive better."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm. Wanna switch?"

They pulled to a stop at a clearing where Erik had planned a break. Y/N hopped out with that same grace she did everything, immediately going to thank their dogs by name because of course she'd memorized them already.

"Sven likes you," Erik noted as one of the huskies practically melted under Y/N's attention.

"The feeling's mutual," she cooed, scratching behind the dog's ears while Jules watched, something warm spreading in his chest that had nothing to do with his heavy coat.

"You're staring again," Van said, appearing beside him with two cups of hot chocolate from Erik's thermos.

"Mind your business."

"Impossible. This is literally the most entertainment I've had since that Mykonos disaster."

"Which you promised to never bring up again."

Van's laugh was loud enough to make the dogs look over. "Sweetie, that story is getting told at your wedding."

"Whose wedding?" Y/N asked, joining them with snow in her hair.

"No one's," Jules said quickly, but Van was already cackling.

"Just planning ahead," she said with a wink before dramatically calling out, "BABE! Come take pictures of me with the dogs for the gram!"

AK dutifully pulled out his camera while Y/N gave Jules a questioning look.

"Do I want to know?"

"Definitely not." He handed her the other hot chocolate. "Ready to show me these superior driving skills you were bragging about?"

And watching her handle the sled with the same confidence she'd shown on the snowmobile (the same confidence she'd shown last night), Jules thought about how sometimes the best things in life came from letting go of control.

The next few days were a mess of heated kisses, late-night jacuzzi sessions that definitely weren't just about enjoying the water, and fucking each other’s brains out. Y/N kept "accidentally" ending up in Jules' room instead of her own, and he definitely wasn't complaining. Even Van's knowing looks at breakfast couldn't dim the way Y/N's sleepy morning smile hit different when she was wearing his clothes.

Santa's Village had Van acting like a whole child, dragging them from attraction to attraction, but Jules couldn't even be annoyed because Y/N kept catching his eye and biting back laughs.

The go-karting was pure chaos – Y/N proving yet again she was secretly an adrenaline junkie, drifting through the snow like she'd been doing it her whole life. "Your girl's crazy," Stef had said, watching her lap Nas for the third time.

Your girl. Jules liked the sound of that more than he probably should.

Sledding turned into an all-out war, teams forming naturally until it was couples versus singles. "That's not fair," Nas had complained. "You two got that honeymoon phase energy!" But watching Y/N trash talk Wilhelm in her posh accent while absolutely destroying everyone on the slopes? Top tier entertainment.

Then New Year's Eve hit, and Van finally got her wish about that club. It was actually decent – something about drinking champagne in an ice bar while the Northern Lights danced overhead felt surreal. But Jules was more focused on how Y/N felt pressed against him as they danced, how she tasted like champagne and promises when they kissed at midnight.

They'd barely left his room the next day, making up for lost time until Van literally broke in with a spare key because "I NEED MY BEST FRIEND!"

Now here they were, back in Paris, the magic of Lapland already feeling like a dream. They landed in Paris just after sunset, the January air was soothing after Lapland's intense cold. The private terminal was quiet except for Van's dramatic goodbyes – she was basically hanging off Y/N like they hadn't just spent a whole week together.

"I'm gonna miss you so much!" Van wailed while AK tried not to laugh.

"Girl, I'll literally see you next weekend," Y/N said, but hugged her back just as tight.

The guys were more lowkey with their goodbyes – Nas and Stef dapping Y/N up with a "you're cool people" and "don't be a stranger," while Wilhelm gave her a quick hug and whispered something that made her laugh and Jules narrow his eyes suspiciously.

"You sure you don't want to stay at AK’s?" Van tried again, finally releasing Y/N. "We can get brunch tomorrow before heading back to London..."

"I've got that editorial meeting first thing," Y/N sighed, adjusting her carry-on. "Need to prep tonight."

That's when Jules stepped in, unable to let the week end just like that. "Stay at mine."

"I really should get back..."

"I’ll even go with you on the train to London tomorrow morning."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Why should I even stay?"

The look he gave her said everything he couldn't in public. Her quiet "fine" was trying to sound put out but didn't quite hit the mark.

In his car, one of his hands was on the wheel while the other found her thigh. The city lights caught the snow that had started falling – nothing like Lapland's heavy drifts, just light dustings that made everything look softer.

"Your playlist is actually decent," Y/N said, scrolling through his Spotify. "Though I'm judging the amount of Drake."

"Leave Drake alone."

"Make me."

His laugh was low. "Later."

They fell into comfortable silence as Steve Lacy came on, and Jules tried to sort through the thoughts that had been building all week. This wasn't supposed to happen – he barely had time to breathe between matches and training, let alone time for a relationship. But here he was, already thinking about when he could see her next.

"So," he finally said, aiming for casual. "This thing..."

"This thing?" Her smile was teasing.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"You're not going to make this easy, huh?"

Her laugh was soft. "When have I ever made anything easy for you?"

True. From that first moment in the private terminal to right now, she'd challenged him at every turn. Maybe that's why this felt different.

"I want to see where this goes," he said finally. "Like, properly."

"Properly?" She was definitely enjoying watching him squirm. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means I want to figure out our schedules. See when you can come to Barcelona. When I can come to London." He glanced at her. "If you want."

The smile she gave him made his chest tight. "I want."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She squeezed his hand. "Let's see what happens."

Later, watching her sleep in his bed like she belonged there, Jules thought about how AK finally redeemed himself with suggesting his girl and her bestie join them on their boys trip.

Speaking of AK, Jules' phone buzzed with a text:

"So... best wingman ever or BEST wingman ever?"

For once, Jules didn't argue. He typed out a reply:

"You redeemed yourself…but barely."

Then he placed his phone back onto his bedside table and smiled at a peacefully sleeping Y/N.

Yeah, maybe AK did get it right this time.

[ihrthoney]

another late night ak!jason brainrot because i need more content of jason peter todd.

after seeing you again, he couldn’t stomach physical affection. the night he saw you again was the only time, call it the heat of the moment.

there’s nothing more that he wants but to be close to you, to hear your heartbeat but the thought of being hugged.. the feeling of being restrained floods his brain and forces his focus on everything but love.

he still loves you, but he knows it’s different. it’s tainted, it’s like you’re strangers again despite what you say.

he hasn’t told you what happened to him, not fully. he knows you, you’d drown in guilt. this wasn’t your fault. not his girl.

you respected his wishes of space, it’s a little tense because you’re relearning him but you’re just happy he’s back.

he doesn’t fully trust you unfortunately. so he asks to set up cameras and security in your home, tinkering with your phone so no one would locate you or him. he was covering his tracks.

thankfully you don’t seem to leave home much besides work and groceries.

also you no longer work and he has his men get groceries for you.

the morning after he saw you, he wanted to ask you to move to base but he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

you let him do anything to be safe, to be sure, and it makes him ache for you. he would give anything if it meant you two could go back to normal, but he knows he can’t. he never can.

but if there’s one thing he’s going to try for. it’s you.

[zombflesh]

how do you think ak!jay likes to be hugged (i miss him)

I'm about to yap a lot for this one so strap in. I personally think that Jason wouldn't exactly be used to hugs even before he was tortured. Physical attention wasn't something he was given that much as a child, and he's way used to touch being a negative instead of a positive. His short time with Bruce probably helped him accept that touch wasn't a negative thing until the Joker ruined it all. After Arkham Knight, Jason would not be able to properly stomach any kind of physical contact. He's been tortured, beaten, and is at his lowest point. Jason doesn't even feel human at this point because after everything he can only see himself as a shell of who he once was. The littlest things are a trigger to him. Something as simple as a pat on the shoulder makes him want to claw at his own skin. Jason's S/O would need to be very patient at first. Physical affection is a concept that has been tainted for him. He's trying hard to get used to your gentle touches because he wants to be with you. Jason doesn't want you to be with someone that can barely take care of themselves. Jason wants you to be with a person instead of the ghost that he perceives himself as. Jason heals and slowly but surely, he leans into your hugs. Now to actually answer the question sorry for going on that long ass tangent

At first, Jason's hugs would feel like hugging a statue. Very stiff and he barely moves a muscle. That stiffness slowly melts away the more he heals. And when this man hugs believe me, he HUGS. Jason is starved of affection, and he feels safe in your around. When he hugs you it's always firm but gentle. Jason wants to make you feel safe in his arms like how your presence makes him feel safe. Snuggling with him would feel like hugging a giant teddy bear. Jason would hold you to his chest while his fingers would either rub your back or play with your hair. Of course, there are always those hugs where he picks you up and spins you around. Jason's hugs would be so tight and so warm.

Jason is a forehead kisser and anyone who says otherwise is wrong. After every hug he's give you a big smooch on the forehead. Hear me out on this next part. Little spoon Jason. HEAR ME OUT PLEASE!! Yeah, he prefers to be big spoon. But Jason would melt whenever you hold him. Just imagine the realization that Jason is being held hitting him and he just leans into the hug. He would bury his face into your shoulder and let out the most content sigh. Love, security, and warmth are all things he can find in your arms. Jason would love it if you held him before he fell asleep. His face would be pressed against your chest as he listens to your heartbeat. The rhythm of your heartbeat would help him fall asleep because it's just comforting to know that your still there. He relaxes as soon as you brush your fingers through his hair. Or even hearing you talk is enough to make him unwind.

There's something so sweet about Jason letting himself be held idk what it is

[jewish-sideblog]

I know for a fact that people are responding with orientalism, fetishization, and fandomization of the Israel / Palestine conflict. Because there is no way in hell that the American left would have responded the same way to October 7 happening in America.

Imagine if 364 people had been killed by AK assault rifles in a mass shooting at a music festival in America. I think the response from the American left would be much different. There would been have been universal condemnation and a push to dismantle and disarm the known hate group that planned and executed the shooting. There would have been common sense reforms planned to prevent the exact same thing from happening again.

But the mass shooting killed 364 Israelis, not 364 Americans. It was accompanied by 5000 rockets aimed at civilian targets, 775 other fatal shootings, and 247 instances of human trafficking across international borders. Torture. Mutilation. Sexual violence. Infants shot multiple times.

Somehow, that means the response from the American left has fully reversed. Many of them have, in essence, said that “A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.” They used the opportunity to glorify terrorists who mass-murdered civilians with the intent to commit genocide. Isn’t that what the American alt-right normally does in response to violence?

The necessary disclaimer here is that none of this should serve to justify the actions of the Israeli government. A military force that is typically known for having historically low rates of civilian death now has historically high rates— there is no excuse for that. The amount of sheer Israeli incompetence that allowed the attack to happen in the first place, and led such a disproportionate response, is nothing but a complete humanitarian failure of the Likud administration.

But I remember distinctly how many Americans glorified Hamas and called for the destruction of Jews in Israel on October 7th. During the terrorist attack. Before Israel’s military response. Clearly, no military response of any kind could have been justified by the people who usually beg for violent hate groups to get disarmed.

This is a kind of conflict many of them will never have to actually reconcile with, because the while the average American can access an automatic rifle, they can’t access a rocket launcher. Lacking insight into geopolitical history, the realities of warfare, and any actual ties to the real people being killed, they turned their slacktivism into a show. Hamas are Good Guys and Zionists are Bad Guys. And as long as it’s happening several thousand miles away, a Good Guy with a Gun becomes a perfect fantasy.

[saphronethaleph]

Perfect Hiding Spot

“I don’t like you either!” Evazan said, getting into Luke’s face to make his point. “You just watch yourself. We’re wanted men! I have the death sentence on twelve systems.”

“I’ll be careful,” Luke promised, as he turned back to his drink.

“You’ll be dead!” Evazan replied, grabbing Luke’s shoulder to spin him around again.

“This little one’s not worth the effort,” Obi-Wan chided, with a genial smile. “How about I get you something?”

Evazan made a keening noise of frustrated rage, and this time when he grabbed for Luke’s shoulder he yanked the young man bodily backwards. Luke staggered back, then fell, and knocked over a table with a clatter.

Every eye in the cantina turned towards the confrontation, and Wuher dove behind his bar with a panicked shout. “No blasters, no blasters!”

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber flashed out as Ponda Baba drew his blaster, and a moment later the aqualish was missing both the blaster and an arm.

For at least five seconds, there was complete stillness in the room.

“...Master Kenobi?” one of the duros asked, in a brittle voice. “You survived?”

He glanced around the bar, nervous. “I thought I was the only one-”

“I thought I was the only one!”

The speaker that time was one of the Modal Nodes, and all six of his bith bandmates looked at him.

“You can’t mean you’re a Jedi?” Figrin D’an asked.

“You’re a Jedi as well?” three of the other Modal Nodes said, before glancing at one another.

Luke raised his arm, hesitantly, then the duros jedi pulled him upright.

“Thanks,” he said. “But, I mean… how many people in here are Jedi?”

Forty-six lightsabers came out.

“In the name of the Krayt, why?” Luke asked. “Why are you all in hiding here?”

“I thought it was the most out of the way place in the galaxy,” Kardue’sai’Malloc volunteered.

That was hard to argue with, as far as Luke was concerned.

“I came here because I heard a rumour that Darth Vader hated sand,” Hem Dazon said.

Fourteen other people said out loud that they’d heard that too, and another ten nodded along with it.

“We’re touring?” one of the bith musicians asked. “Shavit, that’s a coincidence.”

“Who else picked it off a list when they tried to go into hiding?” Momaw Nadon asked, getting several more raised hands or similar manipulators.

“Why are you here, though, Master Kenobi?” Lak Sivrak asked.

“For the same reason as all of you, I think,” Obi-Wan answered, deactivating his lightsaber, because Evazan and Ponda had run away while he was distracted. “To hide, from the reaches of the Empire. This is the one place that Darth Vader would never come.”

“...who’s the kid?” the duros Jedi asked.

“My name’s Luke Skywalker,” Luke said.

“...was your father Anakin Skywalker?” BoShek asked. “Damn, kid.”

He paused. “Wait. How come Master Kenobi needs passage somewhere, anyway? He was almost able to keep up with Anakin, and Anakin was the best pilot the galaxy’s ever produced, by my money.”

“I dislike flying and I don’t currently own a starship,” Obi-Wan replied. “I believe you were introducing me to someone who might be able to arrange one?”

He looked around at the bar. “I may need to ask him how many passengers he can handle.”

“Well?” Stormtrooper Sergeant RF-345 asked.

“No sign of anything in the south sector,” one of his troopers replied. “I’m tagging the doors that don’t open for a later check.”

“Good,” RF-345 assessed. “Second company is moving to secure the docking bays. Watch out for anyone trying to move ahead of the cordon – stay alert for any surprises.”

Then a tidal wave of Jedi came pouring out of Chalmun’s Cantina, waving lightsabers and stampeding in the direction of Docking Bay Ninety-Four, accompanied by a wookie, a kid and a very surprised scoundrel and pausing long enough to pick up a pair of droids from one of the nearby houses.

RF-345 and his squad kept looking in that direction for at least ten full seconds after the stampede had vanished.

“...like that, sir?” trooper AK-707 asked, in a fragile voice.

“Like that, yes,” RF-345 agreed, then blinked a few times. “At least, assuming it was real, and not a hallucination.”

“It might have been a hallucination,” trooper ED-321 conceded. “We have been out in the sun all day.”